The following story is based off the childhood fantasies of two brothers who watched way too much television in their day. It is a continuation of the Toon Master series of stories featuring our original characters and favorite cartoons. Enjoy and tell us what you think.

The author does not own any existing cartoon characters, products or locations used in this story. The author is not receiving any monetary gain from this story. No copyright infringement in intended. Any resemblance of original characters, products or locations to real life is purely coincidental.

Episode 4 – The Rainbow Connection

"Even a thousand mile journey must begin with the first step."

--- Hadji. The Real Adventures of Johnny Quest

It was an early Saturday morning in the small rural town of Mawaga. The sun hadn't even thought about rising yet. Songbirds were still sleeping on tree branches with their heads tucked under their wings, looking like dozens of multi-colored cotton balls. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the pavement and lawns which was reflected in the morning dew and sparkled like earthbound stars. There was hardly any sound; no breeze strong enough to disturb the red, brown, and gold leaves on the trees or the smooth-as-glass surfaces of the swimming pools that had not yet been covered for the season.

Within all this serenity, something very strange was happening behind one particular house. A vertical beam of white light suddenly appeared, as if the very air had been torn. The beam of light widened until it was a square of white light with thin black lines racing horizontally across it, like a TV with static, and from the square stepped a very haggard teenager with half open eyes, disheveled hair, and wearing the same clothes he had worn yesterday. On his back was a red backpack and in his right hand was a golden sword with a highly polished blade that seemed almost to glow with a light from within. This was the Toon Sword and the teenager, of course, was Tony, the Toon Master-chosen by the Toon Sword and the only person in the world capable of wielding the sword's awesome power.

Tony was dead tired. He had been up all night in the Toon World training with his new friends and teammates, the Super Stars-Penny, Mary, Jim, and Tom. Actually, he had been training all night, every night for the past week. There was a lot of ground to cover if Tony was going to learn how to control the awesome Toon powers he now had. Right now, however, Tony didn't care about powers or training or even the evil Dr. Claw he was training to fight. All he cared about was sleep and since it was the weekend, he was looking forward to a good long rest.

Tony's vision was so blurry it took him three tries to put the Toon Sword into his Max-Pack, which could store an unlimited number of items. He closed the portal and stumbled across the lawn, almost tripping over the garden hose. What kind of idiot leaves a hose just lying across the ground? Oh, that's right. He was supposed to have put it away earlier. Oh well.

Tony carefully unlocked the backdoor and snuck as quietly as possible up the stairs to his bedroom. His room was always a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, candy wrappers littered his desk and a ton and a half of action figures were crammed into every available space. The action figures were all of cartoon characters-Sonic the Hedgehog, Justice League, but most of the figures by far were Gundum models from every series.

Usually Tony would stop to admire his collection, but this morning he hardly noticed them. He threw the Max-Pack into a corner, slipped out of his shoes and plopped onto his bed, not even rolling back the covers. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand which read 5:10 in glowing green numbers. Tony closed his eyes and smiled as his head sunk deep into his soft pillows, welcoming him to dreamland.

"RISE AND SHINE, HONEY!"

"Who…wha…wah?" Startled, Tony jerked up and automatically reached over his shoulder for his sword, but got a handful of blanket instead. He pulled the blanked over his head, got tangled up and fell heavily onto the floor. Thrashing around, Tony finally got his head out of the blanket and saw his mother's smiling face looking down at him from the doorway.

"I said rise and shine. We don't want to be late," said Tony's mom in a singsong voice and then left. Tony could hear her going downstairs, probably to the kitchen.

Tony glanced at his clock which now read 5:15. "It's always nice to sleep in on the weekend." He slowly dragged himself up and over to the closet, wrapping the blanket around himself like a cloak. Tony's mom had always been an early riser, but this was ridiculous. She usually let Tony sleep until at least eight on a Saturday before…

Tony suddenly stopped. "Late? Late for what?"

He rushed downstairs, almost tripping over the blanket and went into the kitchen to find his mom fully dressed, scooping coffee grinds into the coffee maker and humming to herself.

"Mom, what did you mean we don't want to be late? Are we going somewhere?"

Tony's mom looked over her shoulder and went "Tisk, tisk" at her son. "Tony, Sweetie, don't you remember? I've been telling you all week that our family reunion party is today."

Tony smacked his forehead. Slag it! He had completely forgotten. It's amazing what traveling back and forth through dimensions will do to your memory. He vaguely remembered Mom talking about it (talking endlessly about it), but more than that, he remembered that he really, really did not want to go. It's not that Tony didn't like his family-they were some of the kindest, most loving people you could find-it was just that they were so weird. There were more nuts in his family than in Mr. Planter's, Tony was sure of it. Ranked among the top ten was Aunt Wilma, the cheek pinching queen, who could pinch a kid's cheeks raw in three seconds flat. Then there was Cousin Boris-nobody knew who's cousin he was. Aunt Lydia always traveled with her pet rock, Hermy, in a cage so it wouldn't escape again – don't ask. And of course there was Uncle Philip, Aunt Phyllis and their triplet sons, Philip, Philip, and Philip.

"Do I really have to go?" asked Tony, who was already rubbing his cheeks. "I've been up all night…uh, studying. Yeah that's right, studying."

"Now Tony," said his mom, "we cannot have a family reunion without the entire family. Besides, do you really expect me to believe you were studying on a Friday night?"

"Well, where is the party this year anyway?" asked Tony as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"At Uncle Carl's house, of course."

Tony almost spilt juice all over the table at this news. The rest of his family might be nice people, but Uncle Carl was the exception that proved the rule. Uncle Carl was a car salesman who moved out of Mawaga years ago and traveled to "the big city" to seek his fortune and boy, did he find it. Uncle Carl was rich; not Bill Gates rich, but richer by far than Tony's parents. Uncle Carl's wife, Aunt Lucy, didn't work – perish the thought. Instead she and the other rich ladies in their neighborhood took turns hosting lunches, picnics, tea parties, and various other excuses to talk badly about people behind their backs. Then there was Tony's cousin, Damien: Carl and Lucy's son. A bigger jerk, Tony had never met. Cruel, arrogant, and only about one-tenth as cool as he thought he was, Damien did nothing but insult and bully Tony and when Tony would try to stand up for himself, his Uncle and Aunt would accuse him of bullying their perfect little angel.

"Ah, man, this is gonna be a nightmare. Uncle Carl and Aunt Lucy hate me."

His mom rounded on him and scowled. "Tony, we do not use the "H" word in this house." She smiled again. "Besides, your Aunt and Uncle really do care about you. They always ask about you."

I'm sure, thought Tony, but he was just too tired to argue anymore and he knew it wouldn't do any good anyway. I wonder if Penny would believe that I was practicing magic by turning Damien into a donkey. Probably not. Resigned to the fact that his weekend was now ruined, Tony dragged himself to the table and gulped down some orange juice just as his father, Howard, walked into the kitchen. Howard was tall and thin, like Tony, with black hair (darker than Tony's brown hair) that was just beginning to turn grey at the edges. A neatly trimmed mustache framed his upper lip and a pair of small rectangular glasses sat on his nose. He was already dressed in a pair of tan pants and a sweater with so many colors on it that it was painful to look at.

"Good morning, everyone," Tony's dad said.

"Morning'" mumbled Tony.

"Good morning, dear," said Donna, cheerfully. She started to move towards the table with two coffee-filled mugs, but stopped short. "Oh Howard, dear, I thought you were wearing that brown suit I laid out for you."

Howard held up his hands and said in a patient voice, "Donna, I told you; clothes are a reflection of your current state of mind and influence the attitudes of everyone around you. If I arrive at a party in a suit, which can symbolize discomfort, I could unwittingly lay a blanket of unease across the entire gathering. "

Tony's dad was a physiatrist with his office right in the house. He was constantly explaining the subconscious reasoning behind every little thing and was usually totally oblivious to the fact that no one really cared.

Tony laid his head down on the table. "Speaking of blankets, can I at least get some more sleep? Why do we have to go so early?"

"Yes, dear, why must we go early?" asked Howard, sitting down across from Tony. "The party doesn't start until noon."

"It's a two hour drive to your brother's house and you know I always like to go early to help out with the preparation."

"But I've told you before dear, arriving too early at a party can give the impression that a person is consciously overstepping their boundaries. It will make people believe that you think you are better then them."

"Don't be ridiculous, Howard," said Donna as she placed plates of eggs, bacon, and toast on the table. "I am merely offering my services wherever they may be needed; not intentionally insulting anyone."

"I wasn't saying that you were. It all stems from primitive instincts to mark our own territories, you see."

"Primitive," said Donna, sounding highly insulting. "There is no call for such language, Howard, especially in front of Tony."

"It's only a term, Donna, that…

As Tony's mom and dad continued to argue, Tony looked sullenly down at his breakfast and closed his eyes. At least I can get some sleep on the ride up.