Author's Warning: Like everything else, this takes place in my series, set up by the events in my first story "More Than My Friend" where the big event is that Frankie adopts Mac as her "little brother". If you haven't read that story yet, I strongly suggest you do so now, or else you might get terribly confused.

"Miss France, I won't stand for this at all! I'll be a monkey's uncle if he tries to get away with such appalling incivility under this very roof!"

Frances "Frankie" Foster heard him perfectly all right, but that didn't necessarily mean the slightly startled redhead had so much as a single clue what on earth he was talking about. The caretaker paused her sweeping and craned her neck about until she was staring eye-to-eye with the plainly irate imaginary rabbit standing right behind her, but she was simply so profoundly confused that she was at a total loss for words for several moments.

"…Um...say that again, Mr. H?" she asked bemusedly, gawking at him with a stare of incomprehension so blank she momentarily resembled a corpse.

"You heard me!" Mr. Herriman growled as he folded his arms across his chest and glared at her sternly. "And don't think that you can excuse your charge by telling me he's simply too young to know any better. He needs to learn...no, no, he simply must learn that bigotry or similar vile ignorance of any sort whatsoever has absolutely no place in this household! Do you understand? No exceptions, and that's final! Since you are his guardian, I demand that you go teach the boy the heinous error of his ways the very instant you're finished down here! Are we clear?"

"Uh…" Frankie murmured stupidly as she strove with every ounce of her mind power to try and figure out what exactly he was so infuriated over. "Sure…I-I'll take care of it…"

"The sooner you rid the child of his irrational and hateful prejudices, the better!" Mr. Herriman barked. With this he wheeled around and hopped off, leaving behind one very bewildered young woman. For the longest time, Frankie just stood there dumbly in the middle of the foyer, chewing on her lower lip as she tried to ponder over the rabbit's extremely confusing order.

Her charge? Bigotry? Prejudice? No, no...surely he didn't actually mean Mac of all people, did he?

...Did he?

She still hadn't the faintest idea what Mr. Herriman had meant. What was clear at least was the fact that something was terribly, terribly amiss here. With a heavy sigh, she stowed the broom aside and promptly made a beeline for the staircase to take care of without a doubt must be the most tremendous misunderstanding that she ever had the displeasure of clearing up.

"Crazy rabbit…." She grumbled sourly as she ascended the stairs. The bunny had probably just been doing far too much paperwork lately, she quickly concluded., for she honestly couldn't even comprehend how he could've possibly been serious about-

"Frankie?" a familiar voice suddenly derailed her train of thought, and almost immediately she spotted the little old woman hobbling by down towards the foyer.

"Oh! Oh, hi Grandma, how…" Frankie started to greet warmly before she abruptly trailed off once she noted the deep concern lining her grandmother's undeniably grim expression. As she quickly became a tad unnerved, the young woman started nervously toying with her sweater zipper before asking, "Uh...Grandma? Is...is everything okay?"

"What, me? Oh, of course dearie, I'm fine, just fine!" Madame Foster forced out a laugh as she flashed a weak reassuring grin to try and calm her granddaughter. "It's just...that…well…"

The old woman fidgeted with her cane for a moment, took a deep breath, and then whispered softly, "Dear, have you…well,...have you talked to the boy at all, recently?"

"…Huh? Wait, you mean Mac?" Frankie answered with a grimace as she quickly concluded that she did not like where this was going the slightest bit. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just… with so many different imaginary friends living under the roof, we like to encourage…well, acceptance of one another, and…" She paused, not sure of the best way to break it gently. "Now, I'm not accusing anyone of anything here, he probably just doesn't know better because...er...well, see dear, tolerance is a virtue that-"

Her grandchild needed to hear no further. Before the old woman could utter so much as another syllable, Frankie was gone in the blink of an eye, bounding up the stairs three at a time in her frantic haste.

There was absolutely no denying it alt all now; something was horrifically, horrifically wrong. But what that was exactly so outrageously wrong here, she still didn't know at all. Her grandmother and her uptight imaginary rabbit had tried to provide her with some hints, but to be frank, the young woman didn't want to believe them, or barely could for that matter. No, they had to be wrong, they just had to be. That, or maybe she was simply misunderstanding them, for there was absolutely no way they could be implying that her charge, a mere sweet-hearted child, was actually nothing more at heart than an ignorant-

"MAC'S THE BEST RACIST EVER!" the jubilant whoop suddenly rang in her ears, confirming her worst fears.

Stunned beyond description, the redhead just froze for a moment to gawk incredulously at the oddly overjoyed little azure blob that seemed to have appeared from nowhere to stand before her and deliver his terrible message.

"Huh?" Frankie replied with a grunt, unable to believe what she was hearing. The child she knew was kind, mature,and sweet as could be...or so she thought. It was unthinkably horrendous enough to simply hear that her charge was accused of being a bigot, but the best bigot? The woman even couldn't begin to try and wrap her mind around the horrendous thought.

As she gawked wordlessly at the inexplicably joyous imaginary friend, the little creature just beamed as he began emphasizing happily. "He is! He really is! Mac has to be without a doubt the best racist ever! I never would've guessed it, but he really is! It's just no contest at all, he really is! I saw it with my very own eyes, Frankie!"

"Wait, wait! You...y-you saw Mac...being racist?" she asked incredulously. To her dismay, his enormous grin immediately widened until it encompassed the width of his face as he started nodding far too enthusiastically for the extremely dismayed caretaker's liking. As much as she didn't want to admit it at all, there were no clear signs whatsoever that he was lying to her.

"You bet I did!" he was more than happy to affirm. "Uh-huh! The very best racist I've ever seen in my entire life! We were outside, see, and-"

"No...no..." the young woman started instinctively in denial as she started shaking her head so furiously her ponytail whipped about in a crimson blur. "No, no, no! Bloo, you can't be serious! Not Mac, I've never, ever seen him do anything that could possibly be interpreted as a sign that…I mean, for the love of...this is the kid who helps me around the house, or gives me a hug whenever he sees that I'm feeling down! This is the little guy who falls asleep in a snap if I sing to him at bedtime! How can you possibly say that he of all people is actually-"

"I never would've believed it myself either, but you should've seen him today!" Bloo whooped gleefully. "See, we were outside, and... I oh man, I thought I've seen good racists before, but Mac today, he was such a racist, it actually almost blew my mind! It was seriously soooo awesome, Frankie! You should've been there! You just had to be there! It was just so cool, as soon as we got back inside, I told Mr. Herriman all about it, and then I-"

"You told Mr. Herriman that Mac's racist?" Frankie demanded, going bug-eyed as her head spun in utter disbelief the likes of which she had never experienced before.

"Are you kidding?" Bloo laughed. "I'm telling everybody! I told Wilt, then Ed, then Madame Foster, and when Goo gets here, I'm going to tell her all about how Mac is…"

The little imaginary friend excitedly jabbered on and on and on. Even after the appallingly mortified young woman had hastily set off again to investigate these insane claims, Bloo followed hot on her heels as he continued to ecstatically praise his friend for his prejudices, all the way to the child in question's bedroom.

"...He is, Frankie! He is! He is!" the figment gushed. "Absolutely the awesomest awesome racist that you'll ever see in your whole entire life, without a doubt of-"

While struggling rather unsuccessfully to ignore the over-excited, imaginary friend, Frankie stormed up to his bedroom door, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and wrenched it open with a stern cry. "Mac Foster! What on earth is-"

"Oh Frankie, you just had to be there! You just had to! He totally beat me in our Marathon-Around-the-House! Totally!" Bloo still yammered on and on. "He beat me so badly, it was absolutely insane! Like, he was like, already on the last lap around Foster's before I was halfway finsihed!"

"Wait, what?" the sorely confused caretaker promptly interrupted herself in mid-scold just as she stepped into the bedroom of a certain immensely startled child.

"Huh?" Mac glanced up from his book and murmured from where he sat perched atop his bed and spotted the utter bewilderment in her eyes. "Frankie? Wait...what's wrong? What's going on"

"I…I…I-I..." the hopelessly befuddled redhead stammered uncontrollably as she struggled to try and make sense of everything, to absolutely no avail whatsoever. "I just…I...the rabbit, and grandma, they told me that...but...but you're not a-"

"Oh you bet he is!" Bloo squealed. "Tell her, Mac! Tell her! Tell her that you totally kicked my butt, and that you were the best racist ever today!"

Once the sharp-witted child quickly realized what was going on, immediately he tossed his book aside and buried his face in his hands with a heavy sigh of extreme exasperation. "Bloo, for the last time…you mean racer…"

The End