After meeting with Eddie, Roger decided to do a little detective work of his own. It wasn't the wisest decision on his part, but so long as he was out of Eddie's office he figured he was doing something right. So there he stood, in front of a newspaper stand right outside of Toontown, absolutely dumbfounded.

"You gonna buy something or just stand around scaring customers away?"

A fat, pink man scowled overtop the newspaper he was reading. Once he got a good look at Roger, his demeanor changed.

"Hey, ain't you that goofy little rabbit guy? My wife and boy love you!"

Roger didn't answer. Normally, he'd be more than happy to meet a fan. But right now, his eyes were planted on an entire row of magazines adorned with his face. Planted right next to (and sometimes over) Betty's. The catcher? She was colored. Ivory pink skin, rosy red cheeks, fire truck lips, straddling Roger's own furry, white ones.

"Say, lemme get your autograph, if you don't mind."

The stand owner nearly hurt himself scrambling to get a pen and paper. He settled for a red marker and the first magazine within reach.

"A-and here, I'll let you have whatever rag you wanna take, on the house! How's that?" He looked up to Roger with a hopeful expression, a complete 180 from his initial reaction to a toon customer.

Roger still didn't respond. The stand owner frowned. He followed Roger's line of sight, starting from the gawking rabbit to his own stand. Recognition dawned over his face.

"Hey! That's you!"

He looked down to the magazine he happened to be clutching, intended for Roger's autograph.

"And that broad, that's that one gal...what's her face."

"Betty Boop." Roger finally answered in a short breath.

"Yeah! I love that little doll. Cutest thing I ever seen. I used to watch her shorts when I was just a boy. Thought she was the coolest act this side of the Mississippi. You know her? What am I saying, a'course you do! You two seem to be getting pretty cozy, huh?"

He gave Roger a gentle jab with his elbow. He immediately regretted the action, his bone hitting rib cage without much padding. Roger stumbled back a bit, the gesture catching him off guard as he was still a little too dazed to make a much of a retort. He quickly shook his head, trying to clear the stupor from his mind. A stray fog cloud cleared from his ears, mixing with the cumulonimbus above head.

"Uh, yeah I know her–– wait! But, but not like that!"

Running a hand over his ears, Roger swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed with the motion.

"I mean...jeepers. These stories sure do travel fast."

"You're telling me. Just last week all they had were blurbs about the death of monochrome. I'm pretty sure I still got a few sitting around in the back issues."

The stand owner rummaged through a stack by his register, pulling a magazine from the bottom. Sure enough, Betty's face was on the cover, this time pressed up against Felix the cat's in a chummy hug.

"See? Same broad and everything. She ain't on that cat like she's on you, though!"

Roger's ears perked up. Grabbing a few different issues, he turned to the man.

"Mind if I take that black and white one?" he pointed to the magazine in question.

"Sure thing pal. Just sign this one here and they're your's!"

Ears shooting up straight like two exclamation points, Roger broke into a smile the size and shape of a melon slice.

"Really? Gee, thanks!"

"Like I said, on the house!"

The owner mimicked Roger's grin and handed him the magazine along with the marker.

"And whom should I make these out to?" Roger asked, regaining a bit of his good humor.

"My wife and kid! Leslie and little Stewie. Oh, and uh, my other kid. Big Stewie."

Roger finished his scrawl by slipping his glove off, rubbing the marker over his paw, and stamping it onto the magazine cover.

"Right-o, Big Stewie! Thanks again!"

He handed the marker and magazine back to the stand owner and grabbed his hand, pumping it up and down in a vigorous, full body shake. Big Stewie admired his own paw print as Roger bounced away.


With this development under the way, Roger figured he might as well check in with Eddie...but looking at his watch (well, he didn't wear a watch, but looking to his wrist and then to the sun which promptly blinded him, and only then to a nearby clock tower) it had only been thirty minutes since he left Eddie's office.

Shoving the magazines into his hammerspace, Roger bounded off towards the Toontown Insider. It was right on the outskirts of Toontown, close enough to L.A. that crazier humans might wander over, and saner toons might venture out.

He might not know Tallulah personally, but he had a friend who did.

The thought of beating Eddie to the punch made Roger beam with pride. He loved detective work, and helping Eddie in way, shape, or form got Roger excited as HECK! Looking behind himself, Roger spotted the thought clouds he had inadvertently produced, floating upwards in disjunct unison due to his hopping. The last cloud contained an exclamation point resembling a major league bat and ball in size and shape, both falling from their places and bonking a stray toon bear over the head. Roger gave a windshield wiper wave and smiled, yelling an apology as he made his way down the sidewalk.


Right outside of the Insider HQ was a payphone. Again, a thought cloud formed as Roger pictured calling his wife and reporting his findings to her. Although he knew she wouldn't blame him, the idea still made his stomach churn. He pictured her purple, gloved hand reaching through the phone and ringing his neck with the cord. Again, a completely unfounded worry. Jessica had a temper, but it was rarely directed at Roger, even when, on the rare occasion, he did something to cross her.

But the idea of not telling her made Roger feel even worse. It was almost like lying to her, and Roger couldn't even imagine ever doing that. He'd rather face her than have her find a magazine stand like he had. It's what he would want (and often received) in the reverse position.

With a decisive gulp, he walked up to the payphone and pulled out a nickel along with his blue book*. He dialed their home number (one he still could not memorize), looked to the sky, and then lowered his ear to the phone. The coppertone rung.

It rung again.

It rung one more time.

And then,

"Hello?"

Jessica's caramel smooth voice sounded over the line. Roger's heart skipped a beat.

"H-hey Jessica, how's it going?"

"Roger? Hi, honey bunny! Is something the matter?"

"Nope, just checking in with you! How's your day going, lovecups?"

"Good so far, I've been balancing the checkbook all morning, but I just can't get it to stay on my nose!"

"You've always had the cutest button nose; keep trying dear! Maybe balance it on your forehead?"

Roger smiled at the thought. He was never very good with numbers or equilibrium, so Jessica did all the balancing.

But then, there was a silence.

"Roger, is there another reason you called?"

Roger had to smile again. She knew him so well. His smile dissolved into a small frown, and he found himself fiddling with one of his ears.

"Well, actually Jessie, there is." Jessica waited patiently over the other line. He could almost see her blank, cool expression, just waiting for him to continue.

"So uh...you know those, um, those magazines?"

Quiet.

"T-the ones with—"

"The ones depicting you in a scandalous love affair with our mutual friend Betty? No, I don't seem to recall."

The rabbit wilted. He had to remind himself that the sarcasm wasn't aimed at him, just the situation. He shut his eyes and recalled that dark time where he had to face those pictures of his Jessica sitting with another man, a man he respected no less, in a rather incriminating position. He had trusted her. In the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, he had trusted his wife, and he knew for a fact that she trusted him.

"Heheh," he let out a humorless chuckle, "yep, well, I went to go see Eddie like we had discussed, and he said he'd go talk to some of the editors at the magazine and maybe look for Betty." Roger shifted the phone onto his shoulder (a hard feat for someone with virtually no collar bone). With both hands-free he pulled down on his ears.

"I wanted to help so I thought I'd go talk to Steve down at the Insider and see if he knew anything but on way I stopped by this newspaper stand and found a bunch more of those nasty magazines and stuff and I got really upset and this guy wanted my autograph so I gave it to him in trade for a few of them but he also gave me an old one saying that black and white cartoons are dying out and-Betty-was-on-the-cover-with—"

"Roger, Roger, honey, Roger!" Jessica's voice broke through his frantic mile-a-minute rant. "Sweetheart, slow down. You said you found more magazines about this whole mess? "

Roger nodded, forgetting that his wife couldn't see him. It seemed Jessica assumed this because she continued.

"Well, I'm not happy that this is getting out everywhere. I mean, where is the foundation for this story even coming from?"

Roger didn't answer.

"But, I want you to know that I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Roger squeaked, relief flooding him. He already knew that she wasn't, but it certainly helped to hear it.

"Of course not, honey lamb I'm just as upset as you are, but not at you. Never at you."

The rabbit squirmed, melting into a goofy smile and releasing his ears to clasp his hands together down by his waist. He kicked a large, floppy foot at the ground, and his now free ears formed a slight heart above his head.

"Gee, thanks, Jessie. You've been really supportive."

"Not as supportive as you were during that awful Doom fiasco."

"Pssah, that was nothing, lovecups."

Jessie laughed, a sound like twinkling piano keys. Roger's heart fluttered, this time out of different kind of nervousness.

"Oh Roger, always so modest. Well honey bunny, I'm gonna let you go. I think talking to Mr. Steve will be a good first move in resolving all this. But be careful not to overstep Eddie, okay? And send both of them my regards!"

"Will do, dearest, and thanks again for taking this so well!"

"Of course, darling," she paused to let out a soft breath, "I love you." the headset distorted her hum with an electronic crackle, but it sent warmth over Roger all the same.

"Love you too." he said through an ear to ear grin.

"Bye bye."

"Buh-bye."

A moment's pause.

"Well aren't you going to hang up?"

"Nooo, you hang up!"

"Nuh-uh, not until you hang up."

"Nope. No sir-ee, I won't until you do."

"Well then, we'll be here for a—"

The line went dead. Roger retracted his head from the phone as if it had spit Dip out at him.

"She hung up on me!"

"You musta' run out of time."

"GAH!" Roger dropped the phone and jumped about four feet into the air.

Coming down, he landed right into the arms belonging to the offending voice.

A cheery, canary yellow face beamed before him.

"Hiya, Roger!"

"Steve! Holy guacamole, you scared me! Now I know how Eddie feels." Roger added as an afterthought. He beamed back at the squirrel, their respective smiles pulling enough wattage to replace all the light bulbs in Vegas for a night.

"Sorry about that." Steve, a fellow anthropomorph about the same height and similar build to Roger, set the rabbit onto the ground and outstretched him noodly arm for a customary, over-enthused, Toon handshake. Roger was all the more happy to oblige him.

"It's been too long! How the heck are ya!?"

For s split second, Roger felt the same thread of guilt from his earlier conversation with Eddie run through his heart again. He hated neglecting friendships, because he loved people! And he had never had the problem before...until now. Trying to keep the same smile from falling off his face, Roger pushed forward, deciding to make up for lost time.

"It really has! I've been super busy at the Studio, and with Jessie, and that whole Judge Doom trial!" The entire way through, their water-well pump handshake continued.

Steve's ovular eyes widened with each reason, his pudding brown pupils bouncing along with Roger as the rabbit explained. Anymore jumps and they'd have their very own career in a sing-along musical.

"Keeping busy's better than the alternative! Glad to hear everything's doing better after all that. I've seen your name in the paper's a lot lately."

If Steve was blissfully naive, then Roger was ecstatically oblivious. What could've been a slight, and what should've been a solid entry point into deeper conversation only produced more pally smiles and handshakes.

Of course, Steve wasn't referring to anything other than the multiple crime busts his friend seemed to be involved with. Or so Roger assumed.

They carried on that way for a few more minutes outside of the Insider; Roger recounting his numerous near-death experiences and adventures to his counterpart, until finally, Steve invited Roger in for some coffee.

Roger declined, opting for tea instead.

"So, buddy, what brings you to this side of Toontown today?" Steve asked as he set down a mug of steaming Earl Grey onto the coffee table. He held a white, styrofoam cup of coffee for himself and tentatively took a sip as he listened.

"Well, Steve," Roger began, "I hate to visit on business, but I wanted to talk to you about the magazine." he admitted.

"No problem whatsoever! I'm all for business! What about?" Steve was one of the few toons to ever vocalize that exact phrase.

The rabbit fiddled with the seam of his overalls before plunging his hand into his pocket and pulling out a few magazines. He laid them on the table. Steve leaned over to take a closer look.

"Uh, a few days ago, there were maybe two of these out. One from the Telltale, the other from the Insider. Now, all of these other p-publications p-put out these..." Roger tried not to frown, or get angry, but it was just as hard as trying to alliterate 'p's' without stuttering, "p-p-pretentious peddles of p-p-prime muckraking!" Luckily for Steve, Roger couldn't think of any synonyms for that particular phrase. The squirrel wiped the coffee table clean of saliva before looking back up to Roger.

"Huh. I don't...exactly know about that. Lemme take a quick look." Steve reached down and plucked a magazine up, his big round head, eyes, and mouth forming matching O's as he laid his gaze upon the cover.

"Oooh. That's, that's not good." Without even turning the cover, Steve gently placed the magazine back down and faced his friend with a grave look. "I'm so sorry, Roger. I honestly can say I had nothing to do with this, and I certainly don't know who has. Talulah's just got me running files to Anaheim. I don't deal much with editorial. You're telling me that the Insider published a cover story about you and Betty? A few days ago?"

"Yes. The first one came out on Sunday."

"And the Insider was first?"

"Telltale."

Steve sat back and steepled his nubby paw-fingers, averting his eyes and chewing on his lip with buck teeth as he thought.

Unlike Roger, Steve didn't wear clothes (save the occasional bow tie, tie, hat, or weather permitting, coat). His simple anatomy was like Bug's in that way, but his stylized shape matched Roger's in the coke bottle form of his torso and hips up to his narrow top. He slouched down in his chair to cross his very squirrel-like arched legs, causing his left foot to reach down and bend onto the floor, and the right to loom over the coffee table. His large, bushy tail twitched pensively over the chair's arm. Roger finally decided to take a sip of his tea as he waited.

Steve broke his pose and stood.

"Okay, I'm going to go talk to Tallulah, you wait here." He took a few steps forward, then turned back, looking apologetic, "Normally I'd have you come in but she's been kinda testy lately. Busy is all. Honestly, Roger, I can't even tell you how sorry I am about all of this, but I'll try and get to the bottom of it. I swear it!" He valiantly declared, a paw to his chest and one in the air. "I'm sure Tallulah know's what's up!" And with that, the squirrel hurried behind two grand, oak doors. Two shut doors.

Roger believed Steve. He had always been a good friend, and overall an extremely trusting toon. They had known each other for quite awhile, and Roger was very good friends with Steve's artist.

After a few long minutes, Roger heard a door shut. He turned in his chair to see Steve, scurrying back towards him. He looked even more apologetic.

"Tallulah's with a client. Big case. I gave her the rundown while she was on hold over the phone but it seemed like she had no idea what I was talking about. I know we keep a ton of copies around here somewhere. I'll search for Sunday's issue and show her when she gets off. I know she'll want to help, but as of right now, she's pretty hung up on the phone."

"Any idea how long she'll be."

"Could be ten minutes, could be three hours. Sorry, pal." And he seemed it. If Roger was one for comedy, Steve was a toon all about theatrics. His downtrodden, sloped shoulder frown was almost mirrored by Roger, but he still managed to smile good naturally.

"It's okay, thanks for trying."

"I'm just her secretary, after all."

Both toons stood. Steve lead Roger outside.

"It's been swell catching up with ya! Take care!"

"Same to you, Roger."

"Oh, and Jessie says hi!"

"Will do! Tell your boss lady I say the same!"

With that, Steve scurried back inside, and Roger started back down the street. He stopped at the pay phone and considered giving Eddie a ring. Surely he'd reach a dead end in the BW and head back to his office by then, right? And he'd definitely want to know about the new stories, with Betty in technicolor no less!

Shrugging with his ears, Roger hopped towards the payphone and pulled out another nickel. He didn't write Eddie's office number down in his phone book, and while any normal person would remember it after having to use it so often, Roger wasn't normal. He dialed what he remembered and put his ear to the piece.

"Hella?" a voice wheezed.

"Jeepers, Eddie, you're sounding rougher by the day!"

"For the last time, you idiot, I'm not Eddie! This isn't Valiant and Valiant. This is Lenny's Butcher Shop and Delicatessen."

"Lenny! Long time no speak! What's it been? Two days? How're the kids!?"

"I don't have any kids. Stop calling me, Roger."

The dial tone buzzed in Roger's ear. He shrugged it off and hung up the phone. He'd just speak to Eddie back at the office.