Here it is Episode 6...if you haven't guessed it yet my brother and I are TV (mostly cartoons) fanatics. We have gotten some feed back and are in the process of fixing those mistakes. We noticed alot of you are looking at the stories and we hope you have enjoyed them. WE have started a foum for those of you that have any questions we urge you to ask questions and leave feed back, once a gian thank you and ON WITH THE SHOW!

EPISODE 6 – JUICED

"I y'am what I y'am, and that's all that I y'am."

-Popeye the Sailor Man. Popeye the Sailor. 1933

"But Howard, dear, I'm not asking for details; just a general idea. Was it marital problems? I know Francine and her husband has been arguing quite a bit lately."

"Donna, you know that I cannot discuss Mrs. Ruthberger's sessions with anyone."

"But I'm a concerned friend. I should know what's bothering her."

All three members of the Masters family were seated around the breakfast table. Donna Masters, the slim, bushy haired matriarch of the family, was doggedly questioning her husband, Howard, about his latest psychiatry patient. Mawaga was a small town and Howard Masters was its only psychiatrist. Donna was not in the habit asking her husband about his sessions (she was familiar with doctor-patient confidentiality), but Francine Ruthberger was one of her closest friends. More importantly, once Mrs. Masters set her mind to something, it was almost impossible to deter her.

Despite protests, bribes, and mild threats, Howard Masters sat impassively, mustachioed face set in a disinterested look as he kept his eyes on his newspaper. He did spare a glance over the paper to observe his only child and teenage son, Tony Masters.

Tony was sitting in his chair, his head resting against one hand while the other slowly stirred a bowl of soggy Froot Loops. His eyes were half closed, his mouth set in a grimace, and every muscle in his body was limp and lifeless. He looked like a boy trying to enjoy his last meal.

Of course, it was a school day and Tony felt that school was the biggest waste of time ever invented. Even so, today he was even more reluctant to go.

Tony caught his father's eye and his scowl deepened. Howard simply ignored Tony and went back to his paper.

"Tony. Stop playing with your food and sit up," said Donna, temporarily distracted from her quest for information. "You'll get a hunch in your back like that."

Tony shot her a dirty look too, but it had no more effect on his mother than his father. This only caused Tony to be angrier. He promised to himself that he would never speak to his parents ever again.

Howard seemed to sense his son's darkening mood. Without looking up he said, "You realize, Tony, that you brought this on yourself?"

Tony almost chocked on his breakfast in shock. Completely forgetting his recent vow of silence, he shouted, "What? How is this my fault?"

"You have been coming home late every night for over a month," said Donna. "You're always tired, you're grades are dropping, and it seems like every time I see you, you have a new bruise on your body."

Tony unconsciously grabbed his arm and winced as he squeezed a black-and-blue mark bigger than his palm. "Well, that doesn't prove anything," he said defensively.

"It's a cry for attention," said Howard confidently. "I see it all the time."

"We're worried that you might be getting mixed up in the wrong crowd," said Donna hesitantly. She didn't really believe that, but saying it meant a greater possibility of it becoming true. "So, your father and I decided that you need a hobby."

"And High School Band was the best you could come up with?" he asked as he stared at first one parent then the other. "Why not ballet or science club or chess club?"

"They were all full." His mother sound genuinely disappointed.

Great, even the chess club member don't want to be in the band. "All I'm saying is, couldn't you have signed me up for something cool? Like sports or martial arts." said Tony while making a fighting stance.

"And have my baby come home with even more bruises!" squawked his mother as she looked at Tony, horrified. "Out of the question."

Tony had already had this agreement with his parents last night and he knew that nothing he had said then or could say now would change their minds. Resigned to his fate, the teenage boy grabbed his Max-Pack book bag and headed out the door.

His friends John and Crystal were waiting for him on the sidewalk, like they did every morning. John was stocky and usually dressed in black jeans, black shirt, and a black jacket. Crystal was thin, but not disgustingly supermodel thin, and was easily recognizable by her vibrant wardrobe.

Donna met her son at the door and gave him a quick peck on the check. "Now, you have a good day at school, Sweetie."

"Yeah, sure Mom," said Tony. He walked quickly down the driveway to join his friends.

"And have fun in the band!" Donna shouted.

Tony cringed. Every kid walking to school and waiting for the bus had heard her. They all pointed at Tony and laughed.

"A little louder next time, Mom," said Tony. "There must be a couple of people in Uruguay that didn't hear you." Tony hung his head and tried not to look at anyone as he joined his friends.

"HA HA HA! You're in the band!" said John. He was laughing so hard, he was grabbing his sides.

"John, don't laugh at him," said Crystal as she elbowed John in the gut.

"Yeah, really," said Tony. "How can you laugh anyway? You like music. It's your dream to have your own band."

"And you're always telling us how much girls love band members," added Crystal.

"No, they love musicians," said John, being careful to stress the word. "Musicians who look cool and play cool music out of their garage. The high school band plays dorky music and wears those dumb white uniforms that make you look like the army."

"He's right," sighed Tony, looking utterly defeated.

Crystal put a comforting hand on Tony's shoulder and said, "Oh, come on, it's not that bad."

John said, "In High School Band, you have to play what they tell you, wear what they tell you, and act like they tell you. It's nothing but a regular class with a theme song."

Tony said nothing. He just trudged along next to his friends.

Crystal was still determined to support her friend. "Personally, I find it refreshing that you'll be doing something cultural. After school activities always look good on a college resume. Besides" she said as she gave Tony an accusing look, "at least this way we'll know where you are."

Tony couldn't bring himself to meet Crystal's eyes. It was true, Tony wasn't spending as much time with his friends anymore and often had to back out of stuff they had planned to do together. He did have a very good explanation though. Last month, Tony had discovered that his grandfather, Theodore Masters, had been a cartoon character from another dimension known as Toon World. That meant that Tony was half-Toon. Plus, Tony had been chosen to follow in Theodore's footsteps and become the Toon Master, the greatest hero of all Toondom.

That's why he was so tired all the time and why he was always banged up: because of the hero training and fighting with the evil forces of M.A.D. – the organization trying to take over Toon World.

Of course, Tony could never tell any of this to his parents. His Mom was overprotective enough already. His father would have him sent to an asylum. He also couldn't tell his friends, but lying to them was different than lying to his parents.

"I know I've been a flakey lately," Tony said as he looked at the ground. "You may not believe me, but I do feel bad for all the time I've missed with you two."

Crystal jumped right in front of Tony stopping him is tracks, "Then tell us where you've been running off to and hiding for the past six weeks!" she demanded.

Tony looked at John for help but he seemed to want an answer too. "OK, fine, you win", said Tony. He took a deep breath began to explain all that has happened since two Toons, Tom and Penny, came to Earth and told him about his grandfather. He told them about how he was sent to another dimension, how he was chosen to receive super powers and was now responsible for defeating a horrible evil. Tony finished his explanation feeling relieved that he finally got that off his chest. He looked to his friends, certain that they must have questions, but John just burst out laughing again. This time he was practically rolling on the ground.

Crystal, on the other hand, simply punched Tony in the arm, then turned in a huff and started to walk off alone saying "If you're not going to take this seriously then I'm walking to school by myself."

At first, Tony was surprised that his friends didn't believe him. He tried to explain it again, but Crystal was out of earshot and John was still laughing too hard. Well, Tony supposed that it did sound pretty unbelievable. Sometimes, even he thought it might just be a dream. Tony shoved John out of the way and ran to catch up to Crystal.

School proceeded as normal; class was too long, lunch looked inedible, and the trio just barely escaped getting detention when a substitute teacher screamed after seeing a fully dressed skeleton reading Harry Potter in the biology classroom. Even that terrific prank couldn't lift Tony's spirits. This was the first time he could remember actually dreading the end of the school day.

All too soon, the final bell sounded and Tony, John, and Crystal made their way down to the basement of the High School where the art and music rooms were. The rectangular room used for band practice was small and cramped. Empty black cases and old, broken instruments were piled everywhere. One end of the room held an old wooden desk piled high with papers and sheet music. The other end held a stack of beat-up lockers. Two rows of chairs were arranged in a semi-circle in the center of the room in full view of a large blackboard hanging on the wall. The blackboard was decorated with lines of music and notes that made about as much sense to Tony as advanced Calculus.

John understood the music notation well enough. He shook his head, disgusted, and snorted, "Classical music. Boooring." Tony glanced around the empty room and said, "Well, no one's here. Too bad; better try back another time." He tried to leave and almost bumped into a woman standing in the door way. The woman was a little shorter than Tony and a little pudgy, if truth be told. She was wearing a brown dress, white long-sleeved shirt and a tan vest. A pair of thin rimmed glasses sat nestled within a head of raven black hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Can I help you?" The woman's voice was soft and friendly. "I'm Miss Atone, the music teacher."

"Ah, no," said Tony. "We were just leaving."

"This is Tony Masters," said Crystal, completely ignoring the look Tony directed at her. "He's your new band member."

Miss Atone went over to the wooden desk and picked up a clipboard with several frayed papers attached. She lowered her glasses and skimmed down the clipboard until she stopped at the bottom and tapped on Tony's name.

"Ah, yes, I spoke to your parents, Tony," said Miss Atone. "They seemed to think you needed to build some character, that you were having some personal issues." She peered sternly at Tony over the clipboard. "I don't consider the band to be some kind of reform program for troubled teens, but they assured me that you did like music."

"Well…yes," Tony admitted reluctantly.

Miss Anote put down the clipboard and gave a friendly smile. "In that case, I'm sure you'll have fun with us."

John made a cough behind the teacher's back that sound a lot like "not likely".

Tony was in agreement, but made no comment. "So, when does the rest of the band get here?"

"Oh, there is no practice today," said Miss Atone. "Today will be devoted to finding out where you belong in the band. We will drag out the talent within you and place it within the great puzzle of life. You will become a golden cog within the well oiled machine known as music."

Tony and Crystal stared uncomfortably at Miss Atone as she made this speech. After, Crystal turned to Tony and said, "Now, doesn't that sound like fun."

Tony's could only roll his eyes in response.

Miss Atone went to the lockers and pulled out several instruments. Each one was chipped and battered, long abandoned by students years ago. "We'll try some of the practice instruments and see which one speaks to you," she said. She handed Tony a clarinet. "Try this one first. The clarinet is the easiest instrument to learn for beginners."

Tony put his lips on the mouthpiece. The wooden reed was so soaked through with spit, it felt like it would melt in his mouth. Fight back the urge to gag, Tony took a deep breath and blew.

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

A horrible high-pitched sound came out of the clarinet and pierced everyone's ears; even Tony, who immediately stopped playing.

"It's always hardest the first time," said Miss Atone encouragingly. "Try again."

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

"Third times the charm."

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

The third time was definitely not the charm, nor was the tenth time. Miss Atone took back the instrument and said, "The clarinet is apparently not for you, Tony. But do not worry, we will find the instrument that goes with your musical talent."

As the afternoon wore on, Miss Atone found it hard to keep up the optimism. Tony wasn't able to make a single pleasant note on any of the instruments that the music teacher presented to him. The flute was a failure, the bassoon was a bust, the oboe was awful, the sax was lax, the trumpet was terrible, and the violin was vile.

"You're a tricky customer, aren't you?" said Miss Atone, a little bit of strain in her voice. "Melvin Glock is already using our only tuba, so the only other instrument we have is precussion."

Tony picked up a pair of drumsticks lying on the floor and said, "Bring 'em on."

Miss Atone laughed nervously and said, "Why don't we quit for today and pick this up again next week. Enjoy the long weekend."

"Well, at least that's over with," said Tony as he John and Crystal left the school grounds.

"Until next week that is," said John. "Then, your torture continues."

Tony didn't look too worried. "Hey, you never know. I may stink at the drums too. It's pretty obvious I have no musical talent. Miss Atone can't let me into the band if that's the case, can she?"

"I knew it," said Crystal.

Tony looked over at his friend and found an angry scowl glaring back at him. "Pardon?"

"I thought you might be purposely playing those instruments badly," accused Crystal. "You were, weren't you?"

"I most certainly was not!" said Tony defiantly, but Crystal's continued stare made his stomach squirm with guilt and he relented, "Well, not all of them. I did really try to play the clarinet."

"And then you realized that if you were horrible with all the other instruments, you could get out of joining the bad," Crystal said hotly.

"Dude, excellent plan," said John, patting Tony on the back.

"Thank you."

"Don't act so proud," spat Crystal. "Tony, you're doing yourself a disservice by not trying your hardest."

"Look, I never wanted to do this in the first place. My parents are the ones who signed me up for this," Tony shot back. "Besides, I'm too busy for band. I have…other stuff to do after school. And I've barely spent any time with you and John lately. If I joined the band, we'd never get to see each other."

It seemed that Crystal could not find an argument for that one. "Fine. You have a point." She was unwilling to concede total defeat, however. She turned her back on both Tony and John and said, "But I'm still disappointed in you."

Crystal was refusing to talk to Tony for the rest of their walk home and uttered only a quick goodbye upon reaching Tony's house. Tony didn't much care. He was mad at Crystal for siding with his parents and mad at his parents for having Crystal on their side, even if they didn't know it.

Tony said goodbye to John, completely ignoring Crystal, and went into his house, closing the door as silently as possible behind him. He listened carefully; the house was quiet. Tony remembered that his dad had some kind of psychology lecture tonight and had planned on dragging his mom along with him. They wouldn't be back until late.

That was fine with Tony. He had his own plans for kicking off the weekend.

Tony raced up the stairs to his bedroom which was, as usual, a mess. Dirty clothes lounged about on the floor and hung limp on a chair and off the side of his bed. The wastebasket was overflowing with tiny crumpled up paper basketballs, the number one sport for homework procrastinators. A thin layer of dust covered every surface except for the rows of action figures that lined the many shelves on the room walls.

With only a brief stop to gaze at his latest acquisition – a one-one hundredth scale model of the Justice League's orbiting Watch Tower space station – Tony rummaged through the drawers of his bureau until he found his Portal Remote. The Remote was a small grey box, similar to a TV remote, but with just one button. Tony held the Remote out in front of him and pressed the button. A thin horizontal line appear in the air and split into a white square with black lines running across it, just like television static.

Tony grabbed his Max-Pack and stepped through the portal. After a moment of dizziness, the teenage boy found himself standing on a grassy hill overlooking the vast city of Toon Town. Even though it had been late in the afternoon when Tony got home from school, the sun was high in the sky over the city. Time moved differently in Toon World than it did on Earth, but it was impossible to pinpoint a definite pattern to it. Just one of many wacky things the world of cartoon characters had to offer.

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