AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an idea I've been noodling with. Not much I can say about this. Anyhow, Yogi Bear, Ranger Smith and Slippery Smith belong to Hanna-Barbera. Everyone else you encounter belongs to me. Two of my other stories are referenced here: "Mall Madness" and "Nothing's Impossible."

It had been an extremely long, and trying day at Jellystone Park. Ranger Smith had stopped Yogi from pilfering pic-a-nic baskets at least twenty times that day. That had to be a new world's record. He was just glad the day was about over. He figured he could relax a little. The minute he sat down, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Ranger Smith said.

The door opened, and in walked a teenage girl, about sixteen, with red hair in a ponytail and green eyes. She wore a coral colored tank top, a black skirt, and calf-high black go-go boots.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The girl didn't say anything. She suddenly smiled, and threw herself into Ranger Smith's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, and hugged him.

"It's you!" she shouted. "I didn't think you'd be here, but you are!"

"Uhh, young lady, please, control yourself!" Ranger Smith shouted, trying to pull this strange girl off him.

"I'm sorry," the girl said, letting go. "I'm just so excited to finally meet you! After sixteen years, I'm finally getting to meet my father!"

"Your what?" Ranger Smith shouted, completely shocked. "You think I'm your . . . . hold on a minute here! Who are you, anyway?"

"My name's Shawn Smith, and you're my father," the girl said. "My mother called me and sent me an old photo of you, when she found out my boyfriend and his friends and I helped save Jellystone Park from being torn down and turned into a mall. There was a photo of all of us in the papers afterward. That's where she saw it. I had no idea you were my father then."

"I see," Ranger Smith said, and then he cleared his throat. "I think there must be some mistake here. I mean, Smith is a very common last name, after all . . . ."

"No, Mom was sure it was you," Shawn went on. "She recognized you from your picture in the paper immediately."

"Look, miss . . . ." Ranger Smith said, calmly. "I don't know what in the world you're talking about, I . . . ."

"Mom sent me a photo of her to show you," Shawn said, handing Ranger Smith a picture. "It's an old photo . . . . one taken of her around the time you two met."

Ranger Smith took the photo. It was a woman, with one heck of a figure and a large chest. She had mounds of flaming red curls, and wore so much make up, it probably would have taken a hammer and a chisel to get it all off. She wore a small dress under a large fur coat, and tons of jewelry.

"She looks like . . . . ." Ranger Smith said, trying to come up with a good way to describe the woman in the photo.

"A streetwalker?" Shawn suggested. "Yeah, that's what she is, all right. She told me all about it. You two met at the Hatbox Club on the Glitter City strip near Megatropolis. Mom was a featured performer, and she said the two of you really hit it off when she came to the table you were at, and you two got to talking, and then went up to the hotel room you were staying at, had a few drinks, found a chapel, got married, and by daybreak, you were gone."

Ranger Smith gave Shawn a weird look. He knew Glitter City was a sister city of Las Vegas, Nevada. But he had absolutely no idea what the Hatbox Club was.

"I really think you've got the wrong man, Miss Smith," he said. "I've never been to Glitter City in my entire life. And I don't even know what the Hatbox Club is. I don't even think I want to know."

"How can you not remember? Does the name Trixie Van Cartier mean anything to you? Anything at all?"

"Who?"

"Trixie Van Cartier. My mother."

"Young lady, I assure you, I don't know anybody named Trixie Van Cartier. I'm not your father."

"But you just have to be! I know you are!"

"I'm telling you, you've got the wrong John Smith!"

"But . . . . . wait a minute. John Smith? Did you just say John Smith?"

"Yes. John Francis Smith."

"Oh . . . . I . . . . . I guess I really do have the wrong person. I'm sorry to bother you . . . . . I thought for sure you . . . . . oh, never mind. I'm sorry!"

Shawn then suddenly ran from the ranger station, practically in tears. As she left, she accidentally dropped something on the floor. Ranger Smith walked over and picked it up. It was an envelope. Written on the back of it was "Slippery Smith." Ranger Smith immediately recognized the name immediately. That was the name of his outlaw twin brother. Quickly, he opened the letter. It was written on the Hatbox Club letterhead, and the date on it was from sixteen years ago.

Dear Slippery, just wanted to let you know that there are no hard feelings about what happened nine months ago. People have spur of the moment weddings that end up only as one night stands all the time. By now, you've probably realized the jewelry you stole from me is nothing but a bunch of fakes. But they ARE convincing, aren't they? Anyhow, I thought I should write to you over our meeting because something came from our little one night stand. Your daughter. I named her Shawn Louise Smith. Oh, she's just a little princess! The other girls and I at the club rotate taking care of her. And she's the sweetest little thing in the world. She hardly ever cries. I hope one day you'll get to meet her. Best wishes, Trixie Van Cartier

Ranger Smith put down the letter. Now he knew why Shawn had thought he was her father. It was actually his twin brother who was her father. And that made him her uncle. Obviously, this Trixie Van Cartier had no clue Slippery Smith had a twin brother. Ranger Smith headed for the door to see if he could catch the redheaded girl, but she was already gone.

"Maybe it's for the best," he said. "She's better off not knowing who her father really is."

Meanwhile, Shawn was sitting by the riverbank with her face buried in her hands. As she was crying, Yogi and Boo-Boo came walking down the path, and they saw her.

"Look, Yogi, I think we know that girl!" Boo-Boo shouted. "Remember when someone was going to turn Jellystone into a mall?"

"Yeah, Boob," Yogi said. "And these three singing superheroes helped us save it. If I recall, that female type teenage teeny bopper was with them. And, if I also recall, her teenage teeny bopper boyfriend bopped me on the noggin with his guitar!"

"Well, you were trying to steal their picnic basket, Yogi. Come on. Let's go find out what's wrong."

Yogi and Boo-Boo then walked up to Shawn, and Yogi tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hi there, female type teenage teeny bopper," Yogi said. "Remember me? Ol' Yogi Bear? Your boyfriend bopped me El Kabong style once."

"I remember," Shawn said, sniffling.

"What are you doing back here in Jellystone?" Boo-Boo asked.

"Oh . . . . . I'd rather not talk about it," Shawn said.

"Hey, come on," Yogi said. "I can't stand to see female types cry. What happened? Have a fight with your singing superhero type teeny bopper boyfriend?"

"No, it isn't that," Shawn sniffled. "I thought I . . . . . well . . . . . my mom heard about what happened when we saved the park, and she saw the picture of all of us in the paper. So she called me, and said that Mr. Ranger was my father, so I went to see him, and I found out . . . . he wasn't, and I just made a complete fool of myself in there with him!"

Shawn began sobbing all over again. Yogi and Boo-Boo looked at each other, not knowing what in the world to say. Yogi then pulled handkerchief out of hammer space (that's the cartoon world term for out of nowhere), and handed it to Shawn.

"I never knew Mr. Ranger had a life outside the park," Yogi said. "You sure your mom got the right guy?"

"No," Shawn sniffled, shaking her head. "Unless the name he goes by now is an alias or something. See, my mom knew him as . . . . ."

"Slippery Smith," a familiar voice nearby said. The threesome looked up and saw Ranger Smith coming toward them.

"Mr. Ranger, sir," Yogi said. "Why didn't you tell us you had a teenage type daughter?"

"I don't have a teenage type daughter, Yogi," Ranger Smith said. "I have a teenage type niece."

"What?" Boo-Boo asked. "Niece?"

"Yes, niece," Ranger Smith said. "She's the daughter of my twin brother."

"Twin brother?" Shawn repeated. "Mom didn't tell me Daddy had a twin brother!"

"She probably didn't know," Ranger Smith said. "My guess is she saw my photo in the paper and assumed I was my brother. I didn't want to tell you this, Shawn, but about your father . . . . ."

"Do you know where he is?" Shawn asked.

"My guess is Alkatraz or something like that," Ranger Smith said. "Your father's a criminal."

"Small world," Shawn said. "Larceny must run in my family."

"What do you mean, Shawn?" Boo-Boo asked.

"I used to be a criminal's hench girl," Shawn said. "I was a flunky to this criminal called the Siren. Then, I met the Impossibles, and fell for Multi Man, and . . . . . well, I decided to go straight after that."

"Which can't be said for my brother," Ranger Smith said. "I didn't realize you were my niece until I read the letter your mother wrote to your father. And trust me, Shawn, I think you'd be better off not meeting him. He's bad news."

"I see," Shawn said, and then sighed. "I guess one good thing came from this trip, though."

"What's that?" Yogi asked.

"Now I've got an uncle who can tell me all about my dad," Shawn said. "And maybe, if we get to know each other, I'll love my Uncle John just as much as I would love my daddy."

Ranger Smith just laughed, pulled Shawn to her feet, and began leading her back to the ranger station, talking about his evil twin brother, as well as telling Shawn about the rest of the Smith clan. Yogi and Boo-Boo watched them go, and smiled. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The End

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just so you know, Ranger Smith *does* have a twin brother who's a criminal. It was covered in an episode of the 1988 Yogi series, "The New Yogi Bear Show."