Chicago, 1933:
Rabbit stepped forward into the spotlight. This was one of his favorite parts of the concert. The chance that he got, every show, to try and get The Spine's hat. He'd been at it since May, but he was sure tonight was the night. He was singing, "Embraceable You." He looked into the audience, saw a pale young girl beaming up at him, locked eyes with her, and began to sing.
It had started out as an idle discussion. They had been talking about the Marx Brothers, who they had met in their vaudeville days. Rabbit and Jon liked them very much, well… Harpo and Zeppo, at least. Chico chased women and kept trying to hustle them for their share of the house. And Groucho didn't know when to shut up. He'd made The Jon cry a couple of times. Zeppo had a smart mouth, but he was alright. And Harpo was about the nicest guy Rabbit had ever met.
It was something they'd heard about Harpo that got things going. The brothers had become fairly successful on Broadway in recent years, and Harpo, it was said, had taken to singling out one girl in the audience every show and leering at her throughout the performance. Rabbit could just picture it, and it made him laugh.
He'd told The Spine before one show that he was going to try something like that.
"Try what? Staring at the audience? Or were you going to try and throw a Gookie? Remember what happened to your face plates last time…"
"Nah, I'll pick out a girl and sing to her."
"I don't think so…"
"Oh, n-n-not really, Spine. You know when I get my one sweet song? I'll pick out a girl and look at her when I sing it. Maybe she'll faint!"
"The day a girl faints over you, Rabbit," chuckled The Spine. "Maybe if your jaw falls off, like it did in Reno."
"I got sand in my jaw joints. Anyway, I'm tryin' it."
"Suit yourself, Rabbit. I doubt the girl will even notice."
"Oh, she'll notice! Tha ladies love it when I croon."
"I suppose. Well, then, I'll make you a bet… every show."
"You sound like Chico."
"Nothing really serious… if you make the girl blush, you get to choose the song next time. If you don't, I choose."
"Is that all? I thought y-y-y-you'd at least promise me ice cream."
"Alright… if you can make one cry, you get ice cream."
"Hot dog! What do I get if I make one faint?"
"Rabbit, if a girl actually faints from being sung to by a Victorian copper robot, I'll give you my danged hat."
"Now we're talkin'!" Rabbit crowed, setting his straw boater atop his copper cranium. "That dandy hat of yours will be mine in no time."
"I'll believe it when I see it," The Spine chuckled, adjusting his short top hat.
"Alright, be a b-b-big boy about it, brother."
"She was anemic, Rabbit. That doesn't count."
"She was a girl, I sang-sang-sang… to her, and she fainted. Gimme."
The Spine sighed, took off his hat, held it tightly for one moment, and passed it over.
"Hot dog!" cried Rabbit, stuffing it onto his head.
"It's too big," spat The Spine.
"I'll wear something under it. Well, I g-guess you'd better get moving."
"Why?"
"The vendors close in an hour. If you want to find a n-n-n-new hat, you'll have to hurry."
"Thanks a lot."
Rabbit decided to follow The Spine around while he looked. Col. Walter had given them a strange look but had asked no questions as they set out, The Spine bare-headed while Rabbit wore his hat.
"Say, this is just what I need!" cried Rabbit, picking up a red sash draped over a table among a variety of other colors. He removed the hat and wrapped the sash around his head. "Do I look like a pirate?"
"That's a ladies' scarf, Rabbit."
Rabbit put the hat on. "Hey, just right!" He slapped down some coins, gave a friendly salute and a wink to the vendor, and moved on with his brother.
They came to a booth full of hats. The Spine started examining top hats, but the styles had changed considerably since he'd gotten his. Rabbit grinned as The Spine stood, looking lost among the racks.
"We're closing up shop soon. Can I help you with any… thing…"
The little woman who had bustled up to them stared up at The Spine in awe. Most everyone at the fair had heard of them by now, but that didn't prepare them for meeting The Spine in person.
"Do you have any hats like that one?" he asked tightly, jamming a thumb at Rabbit.
"I-I should think not! Good lord, are you going to a funeral?"
They stared at her blankly.
"Now, if you need a suitable hat," she went on, rapidly pulling herself together in her eagerness to make a sale, "I believe I know just the one."
She pulled up a step stool and climbed it, looked at The Spine's eyes, and measured his head with trembling hands. Then she scurried into the depths of the booth, returning with a smart black trilby.
She clambered up and settled it onto his head with great care and beamed at the results. Then she held up a mirror.
His green eyes widened. His face-plates formed a little smile.
"How much?" he murmured.
They walked back in silence. Rabbit looked at The Spine repeatedly, but that was all.
"Say, looking sharp, old boy!" cried the Colonel when he saw them. "Got tired of that old top hat, eh?"
The Spine grinned and started gathering instruments. Rabbit stared at Pappy.
"Oh… it suits you, Rabbit. It stays on much better than the old boater, too. Say, that scarf is a nice touch! Rather dashing. Well, let's get moving. Hatchy and Jon have already headed back to the boarding house."
Rabbit nodded, feeling a bit better. He had always liked this old top hat. As he scooped up a bucket that held oil cans and water bottles, he leaned toward The Spine and whispered, "So… same bet next concert?"
The Spine looked at him sidelong and grinned. "Nuh-uh," he replied. "Gambling's a nasty habit."