It was Thursday night, the 14th of August, 1947. A clear night, hardly a cloud in the sky. No sound whatsoever except the occasional car passing by, and the sound of a sobbing rabbit by the loading dock of the Acme Factory. A scampering of feet, and the rabbit leaves, off to the Ink and Paint Club, to confront his wife.

Just an average night, a perfect night for murder most foul.

Marvin Acme knew immediately something was wrong for weeks now. First, Cloverleaf Industries offers an obscene amount of money to buy the land his gag factory sits on, but then they want Toontown as well? What could anybody, least of all an automotive company like Cloverleaf, possibly want with Toontown? When representatives from Cloverleaf (Toon Weasels, which was strange enough!) came calling on him at regular intervals, offering more and more money until it reached an ungodly three-billion dollars, Mr. Acme knew he had to investigate a little. Why did they want his property so desperately?

Obviously, the representatives weren't to be trusted. One day, one of them- a fat one with a goofy voice- let it slip that they were sent by the sole stockholder, who also happened to be the Chief Justice of the Toontown District Courts, Judge Doom. Then, Marvin Acme knew what was wrong.

Mr. Acme knew every Toon in Toontown by heart, large and small. He knew all about Judge Doom, too, and what he was doing to the Toons. Darn it! He owned the land that Toontown sat on, so essentially, he owned Toontown (how he hated that word; "owned". He didn't own the Toons! That sounded like slavery!) but he had no say on how Toontown was run. No say in the laws. Toontown was an official neighborhood, or "district" of Los Angeles County, so he had no say on who was appointed judge, nor what they did to the denizens of Toontown. He had no say on who was appointed to be in the Toon Patrol, the "helpers" of the Chief Jurist of Toontown... but still... when he died, his will stated that Toontown would go to the Toons- or at least the property known as Toontown would, because he couldn't will the actual town to the residents!

If his hunch was correct, and Judge Doom wanted Toontown for his own, he wouldn't be able to get his hands on it. With that in mind, and his will in safe hands with Jessica, he headed back to his office on the ground floor of his factory.

Still... one thing troubled him about Judge Doom. Marvin knew all Toons by heart, and yet there was one Toon missing from the annual Toontown census these past few years with no explanation: one Baron VonRotten, a humanoid Toon who was a master of disguise, AKA "The Toon of a Thousand Faces". VonRotten was a diabolical genius both in and out of character due to an on-set accident a few years earlier, but no Toon simply disappears from Toontown! It made no sense!

Unless you knew what Marvin knew, the signs of a Toon who had taken on a human disguise.. Judge Doom surfaced, seemingly from nowhere, a few months after VonRotten's sudden disappearance. His Inverness cape blew, as if in an unseen breeze, no matter where he was. His teeth were perfect, too perfect and even for modern dentures to replicate. He never blinked.. those cold eyes of his never blinked. And his artificial smile, the one he plastered on his chalky-grey face when he was about to Dip another Toon looked...rubbery. Marvin was almost certain that Judge Doom was, in actual fact, Baron VonRotten, but he had no proof!

Marvin entered the factory via the worker's entrance to prepare his office for the next day's payroll. He got about halfway to his office when he heard a cacophony of malicious Toon laughter.

A figure cloaked in an all-too familiar Inverness cape holding a rope stepped forward from the shadows. His Toon-y hands were a shade of bright yellow, and his s eyes were a swirling red, but it was unmistakably Judge Doom, AKA Baron VonRotten.

He spoke calmly, "This is your last chance, Mr. Acme. You had better hand over that will, or...drastic measures..must be taken."

VonRotten's hench-weasels, whom he recognized as the Cloverleaf representatives, joined their maniacal boss.

Smartass said, "Yeah, chump! One false move, and that sweet kisser of yours'll be flatter than a pancake!"

Stupid guffawed, hitting himself over the head with his baseball bat, "I like pancakes, boss! Can we go get some pancakes after this?"

All eyes went on him as he continued laughing. VonRotten said, exasperated, "Remind me again, why do we have him on the force?"

Marvin felt something jab into his back lightly. Greasy was behind him, aiming a switchblade at the small of his back. He barked, "Move it, gordo!" and led him over to a bright red X on the floor.

"What do you want? My will?" Marvin demanded.

Smartass sneered his voice literally dripping with sarcasm, "No! We want your Great-Aunt Mamie's underthings! Of course we want your will, you fathead!"

VonRotten chastised him, "Now, Sergeant, leave the talking to me! So, to reiterate; what he said. We want your will! You either give it to us, or pretty soon, that X you're standing on will mark your chalk outline!"

"You're never going to get your mitts on my will, VonRotten! My will is where nobody will ever think to look for it!" said Marvin, looking at VonRotten directly.

"Quite a shame," said VonRotten, spreading his rubbery smile on his face, "Then i suppose I have no choice." There was a half-second pause. "Who am I fooling? I was planning on killing you anyway. And I know the perfect scapegoat to pin your murder on, too!"

Marvin opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a flash of red eyes, and a sickening whistle of something heavy falling from a distance.

The last thing he heard was high pitched laughter in his ear, then everything went black as the 1600 pound office safe crunched on his head.

*A Change in the scene*

(The Ink and Paint Club, a few minutes earlier)

Roger squeezed himself through the keyhole of Jessica's locked dressing room. It was dark, and he couldn't see a thing.

"Jessica, dearest!" Roger called out, half in hope, half in despair, "Are you there, present and in attendance? It's me! Y-your honey-bunny!"

One arm stretched to reach the light switch. He flicked it on, and was momentarily blinded by the light. He stumbled around, knocking into the bed, tumbling around at rapid speed until he ended up getting himself wrapped around the floor lamp. The lightbulb was jammed solidly in his mouth, and he yanked his left ear, turning the light bulb on.

Spitting the lightbulb out, he noticed that Jessica wasn't in there at all! Not a single solitary soul was in the room! What to do...? Ooh! He could do what every great hero in a love story does; write an epic love poem to his lovely leading lady and woo her back!

Now if only there was something to write on...

Unbeknownst to Roger, as he was bouncing his way over to the bed, the ink on Marvin Acme's will was slowly disappearing, leaving just a clean piece of paper. It would re-appear in three day's time, as promised by the directions on the bottle of Acme Disappearing/Reappearing Ink.

Roger spied the apparently nice, clean piece of paper, and the light bulb he spat out re-lit over his head as a moment of divine inspiration came to him. Rummaging around on Jessy's dressing table, he grabbed a tube of crimson lipstick and began to clumsily write on the paper; "Dear Jessy...How do I love thee, let me count the ways! 1-1000, 2-100..."

Yes.. the will was certainly in the one place nobody would every think to look for it.

Read more: thread/5675/marvin-acmes-murder#ixzz41zaMwiP9