And We Proudly Present Skippy Squirrel!
Chapter 4
Reunited and It Feels Oh So Good
Disclaimer: Don't own this, don't own that. I own the plot though, which is something.
"Remember when you and Slappy did an entire episode set to the music of The Nutcracker Suite?" Dot asked, a smile painted across her face as they make the walk to his car, parked neatly against a curb outside of the studio in a puddle of mud from the previous night's storm. Said storm seemed to do a reasonable amount of damage on the few unprotected sets outdoors. Some people could be heard shouting profanities at some stagehand that apparently had control of the weather if he was getting it so badly.
"One of my favorite episodes," He declared, pushing her aside to avoid one of the many puddles surrounding them. "When the cast was switched . . . and we met, that's near the top of the list too."
Dot shook her head, laughing. "That ten second segment?"
"I actually got to talk to you afterwards, you acknowledge my existence." Reaching the car, Skippy opened the passenger door and gestured for Dot to hop in. Waiting a few seconds to be sure Dot and all her limbs were safely inside, he slammed the car door and walked around the bumper to the other side. "That was a pretty nice day."
"It was ten seconds Skippy, we had no lines between each other whatsoever."
"I met you, which was good enough for me." He laughed, stepping over the mud and jumping into the car. Whatever attracted him to Dot so many years ago was obviously still there, and it served as an excellent way to forget anything - and everything - that wasn't turning out right, say life. A drug he couldn't get enough of seemed to sum up the sensation he got pretty accurately. For the next ten minutes Dot spoke of everything she could think of, skipping no details on the life of her and her brothers, who judging by the stories had changed in absolutely no way other then height and appearance.
"Yakko's starring in a new sitcom next fall and Wakko scored a genius level intellect on some IQ test last year." She began messing with the radio as she spoke. "We took him to an all-you-can-eat buffet to celebrate, but they kicked us out after he swallowed all three turkeys and the five hams."
"Same old same old then?" Skippy asked, examining his rearview mirrors as he pulled into the next lane.
Dot moved from the radio to the air-conditioner, nodding her head in rhythm to the song currently playing on the station, her ears slightly bouncing with her. "Some things never change Skippy." She explained, looking through his measly C.D. collection.
"Maybe for you Dot," He said, feeling dangerously close to reentering that emotional place of his. One look at Dot was enough to keep him calm and relaxed which was another obvious sign of his attraction to the girl. He had to tell her eventually, and this was probably one of the best opportunities he could ask for. Even if life was the model example of living hell, Dot seemed to brighten him up, which wasn't exactly news to him.
Sadly he had more confidence when he thought he could do it rather than say it, what followed was the opening and closing of his dry mouth. It was at this moment that Skippy vowed to reveal his feelings to the Warner sister sometime today, no matter how much it frightened him, he just needed a little more time to work up the courage.
"What's with all the '80s music?" She asked, cycling through each disc at lightning speed.
"Is there anything I can help you find? Cause if you're looking for the Ark of the Covenant, I left that at home." Of course now talking was easy.
"I'll remember that if I ever need to melt a Nazi's face." She said so casually, as if she was completely serious.
"Fair enough," Skippy shrugged, letting her return to her snooping. "Aunt Slappy always said music wasn't like it use to be, those belonged to her before . . . well you know." The statement was more than enough for Dot to cautiously return the objects to their proper places, clenching her hands into fist as they returned to her side. "It's not like they're going to burst into flames, Dot. You can look through them." He clarified, finding it rather ironic considering his treatment of both the house and car of Slappy's. "Anyway, she always played that music and it just kind of grew on me."
"So you're getting back into acting?" She asked, rather suddenly and out of nowhere.
"No," He said instantly, obviously out of habit. "Well sort of . . . it's complicated." Struggling to explain, he took a deep breath. "If I can get Slappy some mention as a great actress then it'll be enough for me."
"We know how great she was, isn't that enough?" Dot asked, confused.
Skippy looked in his rearview mirror before pulling into the superstore parking lot, "I wish it was Dot, I really do, but it's not. She was always shadowed by Bugs and Daffy, there's nothing I can do about that. But if I can even get this show into syndication then maybe I won't feel so . . . so –"
"Useless." She finished. He nodded in agreement, turning to face her as the car turned silent. "You don't really believe that do you?"
"Why shouldn't I? I didn't save Slappy." He did his best to sound cool and calm rather than sad and pathetic, though he was quite sure he was failing horribly. The ten seconds it took Dot to reply were unbelievably long and awkward, at least to him.
"She fell asleep Skippy, unless you have some physic foresight there was nothing you could have done." Dot argued, fighting the urge to slap the squirrel upside his head. "Sometimes bad things just happen, no matter what you do. With the lifestyle Slappy lived you should be thanking god she went so peacefully."
"Thank god? What god do I have to thank at this point? My parents are dead, my aunt is dead, and I'm the last of my entire family." Normally talking about the bleakness of his family line was blocked with some tears here and there, but now it was just filled with anger and hatred. "Why is it Bugs and Daffy get to live forever and we keep getting older?" He asked, calming just a little more with each passing second. Before Dot could even begin to attempt an answer, he gave up. "It doesn't matter at this point, all I know is that by doing this show I can at least try to keep our name alive. Besides I have nothing better to with my life anyway." He explained as he exited the car, before Dot could get another word in . . . or slap him as hinted at by the look on her face.
Needless to say she - and her look - followed him outside. "Skippy how – "
"Dot, I really don't feel like talking about life right now and religion isn't exactly my favorite topic. Can we just spend some time together; I haven't seen you in so many years and the last thing I want to do is argue with you." He begged, black eyes pleading. She couldn't help but smile and nod her head, letting the argument drop for the time being. Skippy held back a smile of his own, knowing full well how persuasive his eyes could be, and how fun it was to use them.
"Good job in there Skippy!" Slappy complimented as they walked through the studio lot back to the car.
"But I messed up aunt Slappy, I kept stuttering and forgot my place on the script." He said, trudging five feet behind her. His ears were burning as he knew the team of men back inside were discussing his faults and laughing at his mistakes.
"I don't care about that." She explained, lifting him into her arms as either a sign of affection or as a method of getting to the car quicker. "You were scared but you still tried, I'm proud of you Skippy." She gripped him tightly as they passed a large yellow water tower. "And I will never ask you to do anything like that ever again." She assured.
"Aunt Slappy?" He was feeling a little odd with the comfort he was getting from being held, but it eventually passed.
"Yeah kiddo?" She replied in the sweetest voice, something he thought impossible from the violent woman, it was reminiscent of his mother in many ways. In fact a lot of what Slappy was doing was reminding him of his dearly departed mom, from the looks she had given to the way she was carrying him.
"When you hit the evil wolf with that mallet, where did it come from?" He asked, slowly easing into resting his head on her shoulder.
"From my purse," She stated oh so simply, fighting the urge to correct her nephew on the nature of the wolf.
"But a mallet couldn't fit in there." The young squirrel replied.
"It's called hammerspace, didn't your mom ever teach you about it?" He took a moment to think about any conversation with the word hammerspace used between him and his parents, speaking in full confidence she had not. "Well that's not surprising, your mom and I were never close, she'd never want you to learn anything even remotely related to me. Hammerspace is a bag we can pull anything out of, no matter the size, it's a reality bending trick few 'toons can even attempt to learn." Now she seemed to be bragging, and from the display earlier she had the right to.
"Could I learn it?" He asked, watching people in strange costumes fighting each other, a camera capturing their every movement.
"I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two if you'd like, don't get your hopes up though. Some people need years of practice before they can even attempt this stuff."
Obviously he'd been to excited to hear the part about patience, but he was seven and excitement tended to do that. "Can we start after we get ice cream?" He bounced out of her arms, landing firmly on the ground.
"Ice cream, who said anything about ice cream?" Slappy watched as her nephew jumped up and down beside her, suddenly full of energy.
"Please aunt Slappy," He ran in front of the gray squirrel and pleaded, his hands in front of his chest with his fingers laced. His mom had always said he could talk anyone into anything if he used his eyes, though he had only ever tried it on his mother and father. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd give in, especially since he just performed (poorly) in front of so many people for her.
Something – she didn't know what – was keeping her from saying no. "Alright, we'll get ice cream." She was starting to see the upside of motherhood, odd to think that just a few weeks ago kids scared her. Then again, if fate had been kinder she would have had a son or daughter of her own a little over forty years ago, during her first few years in acting.
They each produced a list as they entered the comfortably air-conditioned building, greeted by some eighty year old man as he gestured to the carts on his left. Skippy nodded and thanked the man as Dot grabbed the closest one to her. "So what's first on your list?" Skippy asked, glancing at the signs above each lane as he pushed the cart. The linoleum white floor was moderately clean, with a small scuff mark every now and then being the only noticeable imperfection.
"At least eight frozen pizzas," She pointed to aisle seven, clearly labeled the frozen foods section.
"Wakko?" He asked with certainty.
"Of course, you think I could keep my figure if I ate that stuff?" She asked, taking a step back to show off her various curves. Skippy enjoyed drooling over her body without fear of getting caught and labeled a pervert. "Alright, any longer and I'll have to charge you." She joked, walking ahead with a risen self-esteem.
"Vain . . . but true." He shrugged and followed close behind.
An hour of perfect harmony passed while they finished off Dot's list, which consisted mostly of vast quantities of junk food and took up a lot of carts, so much so that it would take up to four paragraphs to list everything. Luckily Skippy was a pro in hammerspace techniques, and Dot had basic knowledge of it to help out. They were able to load it into one paper bag and place it in the trunk of his car with absolute ease. "So why was it important that we used paper and not plastic?" She asked as they walked straight back inside.
"Well plastic reshapes itself when an item is placed into it, while paper – if set perfectly flat on a surface – stays in the exact same form. It's easier to use hammerspace if we have an understanding of the width and length of an object rather than a constantly fluxing one." They passed Vincent, the seventy-nine year old veteran who served as their constant greeter.
"No wonder you graduated early," She stated, placing an arm around his shoulder. "But how does Wakko do it with a bag?"
"Wakko's a genius, I'm sure he can calculate everything about that bag whenever he needs it. I've always wanted to ask him about that. Besides, it's not impossible to use hammerspace with a shifting object, it's just harder." He took a moment of silence to enjoy how close Dot was to him.
"Slappy was a great teacher, wasn't she?" Dot slowly inched closer to him, enjoying the feeling as much as Skippy was.
"Of course, I have a lifetime's worth of information inside my brain and it's all thanks to her and . . ." He stopped, not wanting to go through all the explaining that would come with the truth. "And her great teaching abilities." Not a lie but certainly not where it was originally going, when Dot just nodded he patted himself on the back for the pro avoidance maneuver.
A few minutes passed as they wandered aimlessly through the store, enjoying the closeness of the other to much to notice going down aisle after aisle after aisle then repeating the process. "Aren't we going to get your groceries?" She asked, much to his dismay as it meant the moment couldn't continue. He fumbled around for the list with his free arm, the one not draped over Dot's shoulder. He knew full well were the list was, but enjoyed stalling too much to produce it quickly. Of course this couldn't go on forever, and when he was certain he got the most time out of it he quickly "found" the list.
"Wait, is that in alphabetical order?" She asked, checking over every item repeatedly. "You do your grocery shopping alphabetically?"
He nodded, "Is there any other way to do it?" What followed was either a pity laugh or an actual one, either way it was heavenly to him. "I was going to get it laminated but didn't have the time."
"I love you Skippy," She said through the laughter, causing his heart to skip a beat, or seven. All in all he couldn't ask for a better moment to present itself to make his move, and so - using a great deal of mental prowess - he came up with the most suave and sophisticated plan of action imaginable.
"Dot, I'd like to apologize for what I'm going to do in the next three seconds." Before she could even utter a confused response, he swept her off her feet.
One
He stared into her eyes, sensing fright and exhilaration. She clearly had no idea of what was happening.
Two
Slowly he leaned in . . . closer . . . closer. At some point she must have caught on, starting to lift her head towards him.
Three
Their lips met until fireworks could be heard in the background amongst the cheering from the impressed fans.
Of course it didn't go so well outside of his mind. "Skippy?" Dot began to shake him back and forth in worry, confused as to why he stopped walking. In a nanosecond he grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her closer to him, a surprised squeak was the only thing to come out of her mouth before they met. For a moment all she could recognize was the shock of all that had happened, once she processed it she was able to both enjoy and contribute to the moment. The grocery list in Skippy's hand fell to the ground, trampled by several feet of the fellow shoppers.
They separated when the need for air became too great. "So . . . what do you think?" He asked between breaths, a large smile on his face to show how happy he was.
"Too much tongue." She replied, slightly bruising his ego. He looked out of the corner of his eyes for anything that could keep him from looking at hers. "We'll have to work on that." She said before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back in. It was certainly one of those Hollywood moments, where – for one instant – everything fell into place. After the initial making-out period, they continued to shop for food items, which consisted of mostly guessing with the loss of his list. Skippy was too busy enjoying himself to even make the effort to check what he was getting. In fact if Dot wasn't there to point things out he would have gone home with two live lobsters and a hermit crab named Terry.
Arriving back at the tower a mere two hours later with a single paper bag in hand, things seemed to be running smoothly. A discussion in the car confirmed the relationship, and there was a nice amount of hand holding as well. Upon climbing the ladder and entering the house, the Warner Brothers were either gone or in one of the hundreds of other rooms, giving the two a nice dose of privacy. "So let's pick up where we left off." Dot said reaching into the paper bag and bringing out four large pizzas and a gallon of ice cream, Skippy did the same. The kitchen was surprisingly normal, considering the owners of the house. Nice and clean, with a table in the center and a booth in the left corner.
"Right, I thought we had everything figured out though." He said holding up two loafs of bread for Dot to point out there designated place.
"Yakko's in fridge, the other in Wakko's cupboard." She opened the freezer and started placing everything in its rightful place. "About us, yes, but if you will recall three hours back we were having a nice little debate on your low self-worth. You used that trick with your eyes to make me drop it, remember?" His mouth was gaping as she finished the statement. "What, you think I don't know about the cute eye trick? You're looking at the master of cute." She bragged gleefully.
"Wouldn't it be mistress of cute?" He asked, getting over the fact that his eyes had at least one person they couldn't affect. No, his mind went into overdrive and produced a plan of segueing the conversation, if Dot would only take the bait.
"Nah, sounds like some bondage fetish." She continued digging food out of the bag and placing them into one of three cabinets, each marked with the name of one of the siblings. "I'm not into that."
"Too bad, that's my favorite kind." He said, wrapping his arms around Dot's waist as she tried to move from one half of the kitchen to the other, proud that he'd known her so well and that she couldn't resist a good setup.
"I pegged you more as a foot man." She ruffled the fur on top of his head playfully, breaking free of his grasp.
"A foot near that area is just asking for trouble." He returned to helping her, finding that the bag wasn't even near a quarter of the way empty. "I have to tell you Dot, I missed the banter between us." He couldn't believe he'd manage to turn a lecture about his self-loathing into a series of jokes.
"Me too, now back to that argument," A smug smile appeared on her lips and all he could think about was how much he loved it. "What was it you said? Oh right, 'I have nothing better to do with my life anyway'." She mimicked surprisingly well.
"Wait, if you knew I was using the eye trick then why did you go along with it?" He asked, out of ideas for how to prolong the inevitable, especially considering Dot's inescapable persistence.
"You needed a break, so I decided to drop it." She sat on the table, an inch or two away from the paper bag. "Now that we're . . . well . . . together, I need to be honest and give you a reality check. Call it a girlfriend's obligation."
Skippy slowly pulled out a chair, the one closet to Dot. "Okay, go on."
"Why not go to college, you already graduated from high school."
"And waste everything Slappy taught me? No, no I can't do that." He shook his head back and forth. "She gave me every trick she knew, I can't just waste them like I've been doing for the past years. I can't even remember the last time I used explosives or dropped an anvil on someone's foot."
"So because she taught you some tools of the trade, you have to complete her life's dream?"
"It was the only thing she wanted, and it had to take the backseat when she took me in."
"Are you actually blaming yourself for this? I swear you can be the biggest idiot sometimes, Slappy had a good life and you were one of the reasons why it -"
"A good life? Please, aunt Slappy and I had a curse; it runs through the family blood." He interrupted, "Slappy had one dream throughout her life, and no matter what happened or how bad life was treating her she always had the same goal. Now I'm the only one who can even try to make that happen, I owe her."
"How bad could life have been for Slappy that you need to drop everything for her?" She shouted at him, voice cracking slightly. By this point the bag of food on the table was forgotten, it might as well have been completely invisible.
He took another deep breath, "It was nineteen fifty, and aunt Slappy had just moved to California looking for her big break. She had no talent in cartoon physics, but she was a great actress. Sadly, back then all people wanted to see from 'toons were wild and crazy cartoons that had very little dialogue and more zany antics."
So here is another chapter, if you found a mistake in spelling or grammar please P.M. me so I can fix it.
I'd just like to thank some people that have been beside me on the road so far.
Classicsrule, Nate Collins, VulpineSnow, and acosta perez jose ramiro. Thanks for being here from the start guys, you really help motivate.