[Sam looks very upset watching you stop and think. He jumps off onto the bed and my goodness. The little critter looks absolutely full of sorrow as it realises that after everything it did, there's no solution]
[Sam looks up at you a whine slipping out of his lips and he looks like hes about to cry. You wonder if raccoons can cry but that thought ends when he chirps sadly in agreement to your request]
[Sam grabs the phone first and takes a step forward and when you blink he's gone. Its interesting how he does it one at a time and you cant help but wonder if its because he's trying to be careful or if the bigger the object the more effort required]
[You wonder how it got you those two irons but there's the familiar sound of him returning as Sam comes into view wrapping his small arms around the laptop awkwardly and then he's gone]
[You don't want to think about the implications of these thefts, but you do have the comedians number lingering on the front of your mind. Perhaps you can use this to bargain with Salo if you get dragged into reporting this]
[You are barely back to your daily normal routine when you get the urge to check in on the bedroom again. Its a good thing you do because you watch Sam roll off the edge of the bed flopping onto its back with a pained squeal, the laptop barely held in its arms]
[You stare at the raccoon who whines as he sets it down gently and looks at you but confusion flashes across its face. You aren't given time to say a word as it disappears and returns within a heart beat with two papers]
[There are three papers here, two of which are clearly not from Sam but you recognize the broken wonky writing he used to use before he got his type writer]
[FrEn!!! YoU StoLe TalL MaN pHonE!?! So BraVe!!!! I aM StiLl HerE, SeE lOtS oF ThIngS... HaD lOoK 4 CoDe! FoUnD MoRe MoViNg PiCTUrs, PeOple... CreAtuR? ThEy AcT lIke CrEaTur... NeVr Met A RaBbiT lIkE tHat BeFoR.... AlSO FounD StiCKy NotEs... AlTHo nOT StiCkY... On ScReeN, lOTs Of WrItiN... ToOk PhoTo, On OthR Paper, PleAse Look! CodE hIddEn ThEre???]
[The second paper appears to be a screenshot of what you assume would be a desktop wallpaper if it weren't covered in sticky notes with writing inside them]
[Sam chirps getting your attention as you look at the paper and points at the laptop then at the notes in your hands. That pleading look in its eyes once more]
[You don't get paid nearly enough to deal with this]
[Well. This is clearly Sam's last cry for help. Might as well help him? It will get him out of your hair for a bit if you do find him a friend...]
{x}
(Franklin is grateful that Sam is compliant with his request, even if watching him blink in and out of existence is still strange for him.)
(Then he returns later on to the bedroom on an instinct and a prayer and redacts any gratitude he had before. He brought the laptop back. Good God.)
(He’s presented with the new pages and he sighs in resignation. As he reads he comes to realise that this was not written by Sam. Christ, he was struggling to believe that there was actually another raccoon stuck in a computer but entertained the thought, to figure out the root of the problem if nothing else. But now proof lies in front of him that Sam wasn’t just confused about this, and Franklin is unsure what to think.)
(Then he decides he doesn’t want to think about it, so he instead looks at the next sheet) …Okay. So, what, you think that one of these post-it’s has the password on it? Or is the password hidden in some weird coded system?
