Part One: Time

Warner Brothers Studios, Looney Tunes

Young Folks

Sylvester, Wile E. Coyote, Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, and Marvin the Martian were all wondering why that each of them, of their own accord, had decided, for no particular reason, to sit in their cars, in Marvin's case his flying saucer, in Wile E's case his controlled ACME rocket, and simply take a moment to breathe for the sake of breathing.

Elmer Fudd looked around his car, it was significantly dirty, for he hadn't bothered to clean it in a few weeks. The dashboard was covered in an inch of dust, the passenger seat was worn and falling apart, the leather upholstery was frayed and had a large hole in the headrest, making it impossible to use. The floor of the car was covered in trash, from Styrofoam coffee cups, to old newspapers from 1965, to bits and pieces of food, crumbs mostly.

Elmer himself was scraggy looking. On his face were numerous wrinkles, the years having been kind to him (at least as far as he was concerned), on his forehead, around his eyes and mouth. His four day beard was beginning to get out of hand, partially because he lost his razor four days ago and has so far been unable to find a replacement, and in part due to laziness. Elmer wasn't wearing his usual hunter gear, which was in a small duffle bag, along with his gun, next to him in the passenger seat. Instead, he had on a white button-up shirt and khaki pants, as if he didn't work at Warner Brothers and was instead sitting in front of a paper company.

To the right of Elmer's car was Wile E.'s rocket, on which the coyote sat. Wile E. was wearing a biker's helmet and goggles, to help with the wind and to allow maximum visibility, for driving a rocket, at least his rocket, was very much like driving a motorcycle, requiring balance, speed and safety. Wile E. was also wearing a black leather jacket, much like a Hells Angel would, again, this served two purposes-function, for it was particularly cold that morning and the jacket provided warmth from both wind from the rocket and the cold air otherwise; and fashion, simply because it made Wile E. look like a natural killer, which helped with the image of being adversary to Road Runner.

Speaking of images, Wile E. was physically healthy for his age, only nine years younger than Elmer. A card carrying member of the local gym; a personal friend of all his physicians, in that he had their numbers and checked with them regularly; and a balanced diet of fruit and vegetables, meat, dairy, grain and the occasional indulgence in a fat or oil. In terms of social life Wile E. was average, he had a small group of friends in the Looney Tunes circle, even more at Disney, just down the road. A frequenter of bars and night clubs in an attempt to fit in and keep up with times, the only thing that Wile E. lacked in abundance of was intimacy, the reason for the bars and clubs. All of that being said, Wile E. was not a deviant, for it was one thing he valued above all else, it was self-respect.

On the other side of the parking lot was Marvin the Martian. Despite outward appearances, the craft was small, only consisting of a cockpit and a broom closet sized bathroom that he never used, for he never went anywhere other than Mars that would warrant it. Out of all the vehicles, Marvin's was the cleanest, for the alien was extremely OCD when it came to tidiness, if it wasn't for his work at Warner Brothers than Marvin would constantly be cleaning, or if there was nothing to clean, he would be complaining about something that no person should ever really spend any decent amount of time complaining about, like air quality for example.

Lying at Marvin's feet was Marvin's dog, K-9. Loyal to a fault and overprotective, K-9's main job, at least as far as Warner Brothers was concerned, was being whatever that was required. Editor, lighting, cameraman, sound, and even assistant director. All of this of course would be impossible for a human, definitely so for a dog, but since K-9 was not bound by normal laws, being both a Martian and a cartoon, such things did not apply. Still, to say that the work was not exhausting was an understatement. Constantly working and thus, constantly stressed, it was rare for K-9 to relax, the only time that he had were on Sundays or on mornings like this, when Marvin sat in his saucer contemplating on whether or not he should go in to work.

"Come on Marvin" K-9 said with a yawn, "We're already here, might as well get started."

Marvin nodded but said and did nothing, keeping his hands on the controls in the event that he changed his mind at the last minute.

Parked on the street up against the sidewalk, was Yosemite Sam, in an old blue, rust covered and junky Dodge pickup truck. He got the truck as a replacement for his Mazda, which was tragically blown up on set by a drunk Daffy Duck who had gotten ahold of a large amount of Wile E's dynamite. Yosemite's beard was shaven, his face bare, making him almost unrecognizable, which is exactly what he wanted. The only way you could really tell that it was Yosemite at all was because of the eyes, which remained a fiery green despite age having caught up to the rest of the body. A cane was resting in the passenger seat, ready for use.

Finally, in the last space closest to the road was Sylvester, sitting in Granny's jalopy, for Sylvester, for numerous reasons, did not have a car of his own. Technically speaking, Granny never drove anyway, which left Sylvester with a 6 cylinder engine that constantly died, a front bumper that was held together with duct tape and bungee cords, a roof with cigarette holes so profound that it went through the metal of the car, letting in sunlight, as well as rain when it stormed, into the car.

Sylvester was wearing a red bowtie, for today was his birthday and he wanted to look presentable, or at least as presentable as possible. With fur that was either falling out or matted, bags under his eyes from a significant lack of sleep and untrimmed claws saying that a bowtie made a difference in the appearance department is simply wishful thinking at best. Sylvester, like Elmer, was old, only five years difference between them.

After twenty minutes of doing nothing but sitting in their respective vehicles thinking about what it is they should do, they made their way inside the building. First it was Wile E. Coyote, his walk confident and proud, then Sylvester, who practically ran to the door, in an effort to beat the cold, for he did not have a jacket of any sort that morning. Yosemite Sam came was fast behind him, for he also neglected to bring a coat, mostly because he did not plan on staying long.

K-9 hopped out of the saucer, on his back was Marvin.

"One of these days you're gonna have to learn to walk on your own feet Marvin" K-9 said, partially annoyed, "It's just concrete. That's all it is. Nothing more."

Marvin nodded nervously and immediately began counting, trying to calculate the amount of time spent outside and the amount of germs that were in the air that he was currently coming in contact with.

Passing by Elmer's car, K-9 moved around to the driver's side and, in an attempt to be helpful, opened the door with his teeth.

"Mornin' Mr. Fudd" K-9 exclaimed, as Elmer got out of the car even though he didn't really want to, "How are we feeling today?"

Elmer smiled and shook his head, for he wasn't feeling any different than yesterday or the day before.

"You know how things are" Elmer replied, rubbing his head at the same time as he closed the door to his car, making his way towards the building, "Same old, same old."

K-9 hung his head, he wished that Elmer would have given him an actual answer, one that would carry a potentially happy, or at least up-beat, conversation.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing" K-9 continued, not bothering to finish the rest of what he was thinking, in case, in saying the wrong thing, Elmer took offense.

Elmer said nothing and merely walked inside. K-9 following close behind just as Marvin reached 57.