This story is rated PG.
Disclaimer: I'm not Arthur.
"Good night, my special little guy," said Bitzi Baxter, kissing her six-year-old son Buster on the forehead.
"G'nite, Mom," said the rabbit boy as his mother tucked him in.
Shortly the room was dark, except for the Bionic Bunny night light plugged into a wall socket. Buster gazed through the dimness at a framed photo of himself and his father, who was wearing an airline pilot uniform.
I've got the greatest dad in the world, he thought. Arthur's dad is stuck at home baking cakes all the time, but my dad gets to fly a jet plane. As he grew drowsier he repeated to himself, I've got the greatest dad in the world.
Just as he could hear himself snoring, a rude noise greeted his long ears. It was his mother's indignant voice from the living room.
"I called the airline, and they told me what happened."
The next voice was his father's; his tone was apologetic but hopeful. "I was going to tell you myself, Bitzi. Then I found out about this Puerto Rican rock band that needed a pilot. I talked to them, and they said I was the sort of person they were looking for, and they said they'd call me back tomorrow. I figured I'd wait until they hired me before I told you the truth, so you wouldn't worry."
Bitzi's retort was immediate and harsh. "Where have you been for the past three days? I know you haven't been working. Have you been drinking?"
"No, I told you, honey..."
Mom's shouting at Dad again, thought Buster. The last time this happened, Mom and I stayed at Auntie Bella's house for a week. She's such a weird lady. All she ever eats is vegetables. And she has five cats, and they meow at my door all night.
"I've told you time and time again to get your drinking under control," Bitzi scolded her husband. "You should have listened to me. Now you've lost your job, and it's all your fault."
"It was a one-time thing," said Mr. Baxter. "I've been under a lot of stress since learning about my father's cancer. I went to the bar to get it out of my mind, and the next thing I knew it was morning. I'm sorry, honey. I won't let it happen again."
"You shouldn't have let it happen this time!" Bitzi snapped.
The bedroom door opened a crack, and Buster stuck out his bleary-eyed head. "Mom? Dad?" he mumbled. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," said Mrs. Baxter firmly. "Go back to sleep."
Not fully convinced, yet afraid to disobey, Buster closed the door and crept toward his bed.
"You've scandalized both of us," he heard his mother complain. "Once this story appears in the Elwood Times, they'll never give me my old job back."
"Who said anything about you going back to work?" said Mr. Baxter. "You've got a little boy to take care of. I'll have a new job in no time."
"And you'll ruin that one, too," said Bitzi angrily. "I swear, Bo, if the only way to get through to you is to leave you, then that's what I'll do."
Hidden underneath the bedcovers, Buster cringed at the exchange of bitter words. Why are they acting like that? he wondered. I know they love each other. Maybe aliens have taken over their minds--aliens who want to fill everyone with hate as part of their plan to conquer Earth. Aliens who enter your brain through your ears...
He shuddered anxiously, then reached up and pulled down his ears to cover his face.