The short featured is 1955's "Up a Tree," possibly my most favorite Disney short after "Mickey's Christmas Carol." I don't own it either.
The sound of giggles was running rampant behind the doors of what as affectionately known as 'Garcia's lair.'
"The devil is…" Emily said as she stepped inside, trying not to impede on the plump woman's sanctity inside her self-proclaimed Batcave.
"Oh, Em, you've gotta see this," Garcia said, pulling a rolling chair closer. "Guaranteed, whatever's making your day suck will instantly disappear."
"Oh-kay…"
"Serious. Now, watch."
Garcia pulled up a video from some video-sharing site (Emily thought it was YouTube) and settled in her chair as she hit the play button. The sound of a lisping, quacking duck singing a cheerful tune instantly made the profiler smile.
"Donald Duck?" she asked. "I thought you were a Looney Tunes fan."
"I am, especially since we've been 'rediscovering' them every so often," Garcia replied, referring to the 'cartoon nights' that had become popular amongst the team and certain 'other' friends. Last time Reid had managed to bring Austin the bartender along, and it had been fun to see them squeal at the antics of the Road Runner. "But there are a couple Disney cartoons that didn't suck. My favorites involve Donald Duck and Chip and Dale."
"Every time I think of those chipmunks' names I think of guys with tails strutting on a catwalk naked," Emily said. "Am I warped or what?"
"You? Warped?" Garcia said. After a short pause she replied, "Nah."
Emily giggled. "So what's this one about?"
"Oh, real simple plot—Disney was good at that. Donald's gonna chop down Chip and Dale's tree."
"That's it? They're just gonna 'let him'?
"Uh, no. That'd be like saying you guys just 'let' creepy nasty psychos get away with murder and other unspeakable things," Garcia replied.
"I see."
"Anyway, so he's trying to chop down the tree…"
The sound of giggles grew louder as Donald fell to the earth not once, but twice due to the chipmunks' shenanigans. "Oh, man," Emily said, trying to keep the tears from falling down her face. "This is so wrong."
"Well, duh—cartoon physics aren't probable, certainly…"
"I mean, having this much fun at work. I really needed the laugh."
"Oh, don't mention…." Garcia's thought was lost as she saw a runaway tree wreaking havoc over a logging mill and destroying a house. The two women were roaring so loud that people were stopping by Garcia's door. One soul was brave enough to poke a head in to see what was the matter.
"Geez, someone dying in here?" a familiar voice asked.
"Of laughter," Emily said. "Oh, Garcia, that was great."
"Anytime. Now go before someone else catches you."
Emily left to go back to her desk, the sounds of the happy and determined little chipmunks racing through her head. It didn't surprise her when Reid picked up a report she had asked to be proofread later on that day and he said, "Emily, the unsub's name was Donald York, not Donald Duck…"
"Hmm? Oh, that. Sorry. My head's just taking a break, I guess."
"Something you want to talk about, maybe?" Morgan called from his own desk.
"Go talk to Garcia," she told both men, now breaking into giggles. "And ask for the chipmunk special."
