Our story so far: Koko the monkeyfish tells Sybil the bartender and The Poet, a bar patron, about losing one of his paws and his quest to recover it, since the paw has magical powers that can be used for evil! . . .

Part Three
"OVER TIME I MADE FRIENDS with the carny people. I told them of the paw, of its dangers, of my need to find it, and, if necessary, destroy it. One day Bernice the Gypsy told me she'd had a vision that the paw was nearby, in this City. The next day, with the help of some of my carny friends, I disguised myself as the visiting cousin of the bearded lady, to whom I had a passing resemblance. I have since made my way to every bar and tavern I could find."

"Did the gypsy say it would be in a bar?"

"No. But I am enamored with the smell of stale beer. And I had to narrow down my search somehow. This is a big City."

Sybil the bartender nodded. The monkeyfish made sense. She herself was near tears after hearing his story. She wondered if he had noticed her quarter-sized fingernails yet.

"Now I understand," said The Poet. "Now I see. I can take you to a place that will lead to another place that should have a clue about another place WHERE THE PAW MIGHT BE!"

"Then we must go immediately," said the monkeyfish.

"Come with me then," said The Poet, plopping on his beret.

"Wait!" said Sybil. "I'm going with you!"

* * *

SYBIL TOOK OFF HER APRON AND PUT ON HER OUTSIDE GLOVES. "I've heard too much. And I've spent too much time behind a bar doing nothing with my life. I have to see this through."

"Very well," said The Poet, "but what about the bar?"

"Free drinks for everyone!" Sybil yelled. "Open bar! Come and get it!" At this, the once-listless patrons stirred from their reveries.

"Well, then, if that’s the case, I'm not sure that I should leave just yet," The Poet said. But Sybil and the monkeyfish took his arms and led him out of the bar.

* * *

ALL THREE BLINKED in the harsh morning light. For the first time, Sybil got a good look at the monkeyfish. He had dark fur all over his torso. But a glistening fin made it s way from the back of his had down to his tail, a tail that seemed to curl and undulate sensually for no good reason.

"This way!" said The Poet. He led them several blocks to a small building that looked in disuse and disrepair.

"The library?" said Sybil.

"Yes, this is where I read something that could help our icthyosimian friend find what he is looking for."

"But it's closed."

"Libraries are only open for half hours once a week on a revolving schedule of weekdays now," said The Poet. "Budget cuts."

"So how do we get in?"

"I'll get us in," said the monkeyfish.

* * *

WITH THAT, KOKO THE MONKEYFISH quickly scurried up the side of building and to a small window just under the eaves. Sybil was amazed to see him trying to squeeze his furry body into the tiny opening. It took a little while, since he had a small pot belly. But then with a swish of his tail, he was in!

The library door opened seconds later. At the same time the alarm went off.

"Quick," said The Poet, "we only have hours before the library police arrive!"

The Poet led them to an area in the back of the library. From what Sybil could see of the floor, the area was used mostly for sexual encounters. "Watch where you're stepping, guys," she said.

"Here it is," said The Poet, bending down and retrieving a thin red book. "The end of your quest." he said to the monkeyfish.

The book was titled The End of Your Quest. Koko took the book and opened it. The Poet told him he remembered seeing something on the inside back cover. Koko furiously turned the pages. There on the inside back cover were these words:

Baa Has Feet
Anon

* * *

"WHAT THE HECK?" said Sybil, reading the words in the book, "'Baa Has Feet.' Signed, 'Anon.' Who is 'Baa,' and who cares if he has feet? What the heck does it mean?"

"Nothing on its own," said The Poet. "But it's an anagram for 'Banana of the sea!' When you include the signature, of course."

"Again: What the heck?! Oh wait . . ."

"Yes, what else would a monkeyfish eat?!

"Well, I quite enjoyed crayfish a la—"

"That's not the point. The point is this clue must have been left especially for our little amphibian primate here."

"But it leads us nowhere," protested Sybil.

The trio stood there in the empty library, baffled, defeated, and a bit peckish, the loud alarm klaxon pulsing in their ears.

* * *

"WAIT," SAID THE MONKEYFISH, yelling to be heard above the din of the alarm. "The letters also spell: 'A Nab Sheaf Atone.' For that matter, they also spell, 'A Nab Ethane Sofa,' and 'Abaft Nae Ah Nose.'"

"What was that?" said Sybil. "Say that again?"

"'Abaft Nae—"

"No, the other one. Anabethane Sofa. That's the famous artist!"

"Of course!" said The Poet. "She has a show on right now in DUMBO."

"Inside an elephant?" asked the monkeyfish.

"I'll explain on the way," said Sybil.

To be continued!