It was the first sunny day in a week of rain for TV Land. The overcast dark clouds seemed to put a damper on everyone, which wasn't helped by a report of weakened ratings. Those damn reality shows, thought Snap, why would you ever want reality television?
"Oh Snap! We're almost there!" exclaimed Crackle from behind the wheel.
Snap squinted through the sunlight and saw it, the giant sign: WALTER REED MEMORIAL HOSPITAL. He smiled wide at the thought of a reunion with Pop, the essential third member of the Rice Crispies trio. Despite all the happy memories, Snap's smile faultered at his worries of the future. The war had come down hard on Pop especially, it seemed, and when Snap and Crackle had met him at the airstrip homecoming they had hardly recognized him. Snap prayed that six weeks of intensive treatment at Walter Reed had miraculously cured him, but he knew the road to normality would be a long and hard one for all three of them.
It appeared that Snap's prayers were in vain; as soon as the two pals entered into the room containing him, Pop had been too busy chasing a nurse while screaming incoherently.
"Oh, dear!" Crackle blushed, a hand rising to his mouth.
Apparently Snap had stronger beliefs of hope. "Come on, Pop, let's get you home."
"HOOOME?" Pop screeched out, finally turning around to face his friends while raising a twisted fist into the air. "Why! This is my home now!"
"Pop," Crackle exclaimed, "You remember us! Your best friends? It's time to come home with us now..." His head swerved around nervously as a distant alarm bell sounded.
"FIRE IN THE HOLE!", Pop yelled out as he jumped on Snap and they both fell to the ground.
"Fuck this, I'm not getting arrested again!" declared Crackle as he grabbed a nearby wheelchair and threw both Snap and Pop into the seat and wheeled them out to the car. "Get in, bitches! We gotta go!" In a flash, Crackle was speeding off as a team of black male nurses exploded from the doors, shaking their heads as the brakes squealed. "Damn cartoons... Think they can get away with anything..." mumbled the nurse who rolled the discarted wheelchair back into the hospital.
"I'm scared!" Snap screamed in the passenger seat, running his hands to his cheeks in fear.
"SHUT UP!" Crackle shouted, raising his fist. He would have punched him if he didn't have to swerve past a school bus full of children.
Pop had been unusually quiet in the back, his eyes shifting as he muttered quietly about "yellow fever" and the evil "wog." Snap only looked to him with a concerned look on his face.
A snippit of "Gin and Juice" played from Crackle's pocket, and he swerved the car into the other lane to reach his cell phone. At the sudden noise, Pop began screaming and rocking back and forth.
"QUIET BACK THERE! This is a business call! Hey Snap, will you shut him up? Yeah, sorry about that Fred- uh huh? Oh yeah, I got it alright..."
Snap rolled his eyes at Crackle's "business" and concerned himself with shushing Pop. It sounded as if Pop had been doing a lot of screaming lately, so it didn't take long for the outburst to turn into a hoarse whimpering. Crackle ended his conversation as he turned on the exit for TV Land. "Listen, Snap," he started, "I've got a quick business call tonight, just- Oh, don't give me that look yet, I'll be back before nine! I've just got to run down the road and deliver a package but I promise I won't be gone long. I'll help you put him to bed... Looks like we'll have to keep tying him to the bed afterall."