DECEMBER 19TH, 2016 - 9:26AM, TOONTOWN TIME
Silver awoke from his sleep as his head lay back on the leather cushion and his legs slightly stretched out. His feet were blistered and squashed from the rigidity of his boots along with the lack of space and his legs feeling squeezed and pulled from horse-like splits. It had been a sunny day in TTC. Snow still fell from the skies, white sprinkles and flakes covering green grasses with winter wonder. Looking up is a female mouse of a tall stature casually examining the young man's appearance. He wasn't toony but he looked the part of a young Cog. The mouse's face contorted into a blend of bewilderment, knowing that this Cog may or may not be a threat to the people. She left Silver alone as the Trolley train came to a stop and dozens of toons waited patiently to rise from their seats.
Silver was lying down all the way back and someone from behind attempted to get out. He noticed this and adjusted his seat as the Toon behind him grumbled. The radio above all passengers had announced to all passengers and the staff members to stand up and collect their belongings and enjoy a ToonTastic Day. The voice was monotone and unfriendly, however. Everybody in the game was already downright gloomy after the announcement of another closure.
The young man completely snapped out of his mental slumber and reached out for his belongings. As Silver grabbed the belongings, he helped a few other players who returned a look with a disdainful frown.
Making it outside of the train station with a couple more animals, there were several congregations standing by the Toon Headquarters, hundreds of Toons carrying picket signs with the following phrases:
"Please save ToonTown! All work and no play equals dull children!"
"Not another Disney…"
"Save our toons!"
"No more greed! No more tainted memories!"
This must have been the 37th protest today, Silver thought. The game isn't having any new promises lately with the disappearance of the best moderators after the latest news of the Tooniverse facing it's doom once again. He looked down at his phone and was told to meet at Punchline Place. Special drive tonight, maybe a tour at the last server standing, the young man thought to himself. Passing through small crowds to the frozen fishing grounds, Silver caught a slightly dark and light blue dog staring at him. Donning shades, a rusted, torn shirt and military pants with boots, Clarke Doggensoda was waiting by the entrance. Arms crossed with a defensive pose, Clarke brought Silver out of the massively narrow roads to an empty building. Nothing was exchanged between the two as more toons protested the closure and one toon that looked like a pudgy, red duck in the distance who tossed a burning glass seltzer bottle and exploded, the windows set ablaze.
Nobody was paying attention to the Cogs and some of the players were already going sad or getting injured by the robots. One Bean Counter typed rapidly as a newcomer was instantly sent back to the playground. Other Cashbots were taunting the toons with mocking victory dances as more toons were kicked out of the server.
Just then, Clark distracted the man's thoughts of disheartening losses and passed him a secretive black handle. "Don't take chances, kid." Was all what Silver heard from the toon. Continuing to walk down the empty lot where the buildings were deconstructed and torn apart, both Silver and Clarke walked to the sides with fences and casually analyzed the streets to their right. Opening a door to the left, the military toon let the young man enter as he looked outside for incoming toons. Then the door closed behind Clarke and the lights brightened. For a moment, Clarke checked the front windows for any intruders who might find out about the secret hideout. When everything was clear, the fellow dog turned to the young man with a whole-hearted smile and tone. "Good to see you back in the game, John!"
Silver nodded and returned a small smile. He had left the virtual world for quite some time and it was days before the New Year. A little nostalgia wouldn't hurt, after all. The Young man examined his bar and the colors were red. The details on the object were artificial and alien-looking to him. Was this a skin for a squirt gun or a hack for the easy Cog kills?
"Keep that pistol a secret, Kid." Clarke advised the young man as he shut the windows. "I do not want any of the moderators or players knowing about a new weapon I installed in the game."
"That's quite an introduction..." Silver replied, attempting to be cheerful. "Mind telling me what's happening right now?"
"Well, Joey is out and everything just went hectic. Christmas came a little too early for everybody – not a good idea to pass a large sack of coal to plenty of generous people who have been playing this game for years. Mind giving me a hand?"
Silver holstered the pistol behind his jeans and pulled down the metal ropes as Clarke peered out one last time. The neutral blue colored hound prepared his alien pistol which glowed blue and screeched. He walked to the pantry and revealed a series of foreign weapons turning with a delightful expression.
"Make your pick. Take two of each and don't go overboard."
The young man couldn't believe it – for the first time in a virtual world of secrecy there were decent weapons superior to gags that can spontaneously destroy cogs and put out other big cogs and goons. He took a heavy machine gun and a pulse assault rifle in addition to the same armor as Clarke was busy packing his bags.
"Where are we going?" Silver inquired as he finished with his packing.
"Far, far away." Clarke tightened his boots and checked his identification. He grabbed his wallets making it for the back door, motioning for the young man to follow. Questions couldn't be answered right now, but Silver knew there was more to come later.
Hopping on-board a Black Hummer, the dog started the engine and opened the door for the young man as Silver heard a high-picthed whistle dash through his ear. Ducking and closing the door, several sacks embezzled in flames burned the side of the vehicle. With enough horsepower, the Hummer sped off away from the groups of outrageous protestors and the acceleration rose.
As the tires kept rolling, Silver looked behind and caught several toons carrying heads of the demolished robots and flammable objects running towards the rear end of the vehicle and shouting indistinct phrases that the humming inside of the vehicle barely drowned out the voices.
Suddenly the vehicle came to a screeching halt with another congregation of toons covering the roads like bees to honey. "Damn." Clarke muttered. The riot was coming to them and there would only be one way out alive – do or die. The other riot up front were toons in business clothes, burnt, ripped and patched with money, propaganda paper and blood.
"Welcome to ToonTown." Clarke sarcastically told Silver.
Some of those players advanced toward the truck and the Toon wearing the Robber Baron mask appeared by Clarke's window.
"Greetings, toon." The Robber Baron-toon unconvincingly greeted the blue dog. "What are you doing with this Cog?"
"He and I are just going for studies. Official Labs Permit. Special Level 10." Clarke replied with a carefree smile as Silver lied his head back calmly, heart beating like a buzzing bee.
"This little fellow looks unsettled," the obese, pudgy duck sneered by Silver's side window. "He feels that you should hand him over to us and we'll put this tomfoolery toon out of his misery." He arms slouched but the left elbow rubbed on the side door.
"Pull over for interrogation." The toon with the Robber Baron mask ordered.
Clarke bit his top lip and firmly replied, "I'm sorry, sir – I can't do that." His eyes met with the Devil underneath the mask and out came the red flames. "He's just an old friend."
"Oh, so now you suddenly pick money mongers as allies?" Pudge sniggered, teeth clicking.
"PULL OVER FOR INTERROGATION!"
Both men's organs synchronized in scattering leaps and Silver was the first to pull out his alien gun, aiming at Baron while Clarke pointed at Pudge. Their guns were beeping with preparation. Both teams were taken aback, Pudge curiously looking at Clarke's Mod-Gun. Baron lifted his hand to stop the strike from all directions. This is Clarke's move.
Silver'e eyes drifted to the lunatic duck's bloodshot eyes, fighting fire with fire. The young man wasn't taking the visit well so far. Toons were already hit with a blue pill that was blood red like the duck's skin and now all communities were divisive as the chess battle between two Users and the anarchist Cogs.
In the front, toons that were carrying the Cogs' heads readied their Power Spirals, to destroy the engines and set the Users ablaze. But some of those toons sat in a trance, losing a focus on the two. In the back, torches were getting brighter and lighter and a diversity of toons coming closer to the vehicle. There were two rabbits covered with black oily marks – they must have sealed their fates with the Cogs a very long time ago. One of them put their hands on the rear tires, loud puffing in the back ground.
"The longer you wait, the quicker your alliance with the Cogs strengthens." Baron warned. "You may be able to escape this riot, but you'll understand why we machines will triumph over you and the Tooniverse."
"I'm willing to make that gamble for the sake of my toonmanity and childhood." Silver responded, eyeing Pudge. The duck's eyes widened and looked stiff and as he was slouching his shoulder with the rubbing elbow, the young man pulled the trigger and a quick, red beam hit the duck. The toon was impacted and flew backwards while he disintegrated into ashes. The black, orange and yellow feathers followed the ashes and Pudge's soul disappeared.
The rabbits in business suits that were deflating the wheels released their grips and jumped in fear. A distorted, shocking charge surged through the chamber, ready to fire another volt. The Baron Toon looked on at the human in astonishment and fear at the weapons, but did not dare lay a finger on the Hummer nor Clarke. Outside, the area was devoid of any hate speeches or hostility, except a very few of those toons were prepared to attack.
Foolishly, the Baron slowly lifted his mask to present his sheepish smile and the whiskers unfolding the smile. "I guess you and your partner are thriving with such weaponry," the Baron began with half-hearted enthusiasm and terror. "I still won't excuse you – "
"Spare us the Prim-and-Proper bullshit, furball." Clarke sharply interrupted. His finger was off the trigger and a blue minute star sparkled at the barrel of the pistol. "See what my partner did to your buddy? Do you know what happened to him?" The Baron-Toon froze with his smile.
"That's all right – because he just vaporized your right-hand man to Kingdom Come and he ain't coming back. His soul is gone and nowhere to be collected. And if you think about flinging one arrow at either of us, we'll get into an all-out war. We'll end your time in the Tooniverse early." Clarke puffed lightly, imitating Pudge's disintegration.
"How willing are you really – to fight to keep your childhood memories alive, no matter who is right or wrong? No matter who tells you to grow up?" Nobody had moved one inch, and the Baron stepped back, dropping his arms. A pin dropped on the humane toon. "I'm ready to go right here, right now." Clarke ended, adding silence to the noisy riots.
"It is best you spend your last days on this little video game of yours, Toons." Baron changed his tone as if he regained his soul. The two Users exchanged nods and continued down the path, with the sullen-looking animals carefully monitoring the Hummer. Fires were still ablaze and buildings were deconstructed with no signals of silliness around. Silver and Clarke deactivated and holstered their pistols, riding on with silence.
