Chapter 6

The mashed potatoes flew inches over my head. Luckily, I ducked out of the way just in time. It was yet another night at the House of Mouse about a month after being first hired. Since then, the villains seemed to be going out of their way to cause trouble. It started with simple tricks, tripping mostly. Then it began to escalate. First, an enchantment on my notebook that caused the orders to disappear by the time I set foot in the kitchen. Next, it was a trick pen that squirted ink everywhere. After that came a nifty little prank in which my apron spontaneously combusted. Now it was food throwing. A step down from the fire, yes, but much, much more annoying.

Hoots of laughter came from the direction of the flying food. I glared their way and stuck out my tongue. It was a cheap come back, but I had orders to deliver, and that didn't leave much chance for retaliation. I straightened and continued to walk towards the kitchen, large round tray held under my arm. This night was going to the dogs, and fast.

I made my way to fill some drink orders, collecting the cups and shoveling ice into each one. It was tedious work, but at least it gave me a break from the crowd, however short that break may be. Still, something was something.

I sighed. My arms hurt, my feet ached, and I was getting constant grief from more than just the villains. For the passed few weeks my friends have been ragging on me, as well as my family. I was tense, but I at least tried to keep a good face on.

Until someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"For the last time," I snapped, not turning around, "I'm too busy to hang out, I'll get my room clean in a minute, and Mowgli is NOT on the menu! It wasn't funny the first time and it is NOT funny now!"

"Ok..."

I turned and saw Max holding his hands up defensively, "Oh. Hey, Max. Sorry, I thought you were someone else," I said.

"Rough night?" he asked.

The last of the drinks had been filled and placed on the tray. I hoisted it up on one hand and gave him a mirthless smile, "You have no idea."

"Alright! " I said to the table-full of guests while placing four full glasses on the table, "We've got drinks! Your orders should be out shortly. Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, that's all, thank you," said Quasimodo, his voice still a bit hushed. It was apparent he was still struggling with shyness, but even in the weeks that I'd been here, he was breaking out of his shell. Bit by bit.

I smiled at the group. Esmeralda, Quasi, Clopin, and Phoebus all sat together tonight, "Ok, then. I'll be back soon. Just let me know if you need anything."

I turned to walk back towards the kitchen when splat! Something warm and gooey hit the side of my face. I jumped back and shut my eyes as a reflex. Whatever the stuff was, it oozed down the side of my face and chunks caught in my hair. I whipped some of it away and peeled an eye open to examined the gunk. What remained of a banana cream pie was smeared over my hand. Classic. Immediately, I glared in the direction of table 13 the best I could, seeing as the cream was streaming into my eyes. The moment I did, they erupted in laughter. Those that didn't wore satisfied smirks. I huffed, "Oh, yeah. Real mature!"

I muttered, shutting my eyes yet again, "It'll take a miracle to scrub this stuff outta my hair. Stupid villains."

"Here," came a smooth, baritone voice, "use this." Someone placed a silk handkerchief in my hands. Without a second thought, I used the soft cloth to clean off my face. Once free from most of the gooey mess, I turned to the character who'd lent me the handkerchief.

"Thank you, I-" the sight of a reed thin man in a black suit stopped me mid-sentence. He leaned forward in his chair, a walking stick was propped up against the table. On his head sat a top hat with the image of a skull printed on the top. My face paled. Dr. Facilier looked at me as if he expecting something. That's when I realized I hadn't finished my sentence.

"...I haven't seen you around before." I finished, oh-so tactfully. I wondered if I should have just walked away. In hindsight, I should have.

"The name's Dr. Facilier," he said, tipping his hat.

"Um... hi," I choked, trying to gauge the distance between me and the kitchen. From where I stood I could see the double doors, but before I could move the witchdoctor was talking again.

"So, how'd a pretty little thing like you get caught up with such a nasty crowd?" he asked, indicating the villains, " My eyes shifted from him to the direction of table 13.

"Oh, them," I glared, " I pissed them off my first night here and now they won't leave me alone." I handed him back his handkerchief. Most of the gunk had been cleaned off my face.

"Sounds frustrating," he said taking back the cloth. He eyed me as if measuring something. Gears were turning in his head, though at that moment I didn't take notice.

"You don't know the half of it! Every night it's something different. God, I wish I didn't have to deal with them anymore!" I was venting, I realized, to a person that wasn't exactly the best choice. But stress had won and took control of my mouth. Plus, he was clearly listening. At the sound of those words, the witchdoctor seemed to perk up ever so slightly. As if something inside of him were declaring a victory, a silent 'gotcha'. He gave a twisted grin. Again, I didn't notice, "Anyways, guess I better be getting back to work." I turned to leave.

"Well of course," the Shadow man crooned, "But, before you go," he reached into his coat and produced a deck of tarot cards, " may I interest you in a reading?"

I stopped and turned back around to refuse, "Sorry, but I don't-"

"It's free," he chimed, waving the cards back and forth. I bit my lip. Should I?

"Well...I guess... a quick reading wouldn't hurt," I shrugged and took a seat. Dr. Facilier wasted no time. In one smooth motion, he fanned the cards out between his fingers. He extended the deck.

"Just take three," he said. I plucked three random cards from the fan and placed them face down on the table. Dr. Facilier slid the cards back into a deck which disappeared in a puff of smoke. He waved his hand over the table, chanting, "The cards, the cards, the cards will tell, the past the present and the future as well."

The first card he flipped didn't resemble any tarot card I'd ever seen. Instead of some cryptic symbol, it had a miniature picture of me sitting in the park weeks ago.

"Now, you came to this place by happenstance out of a need to help make ends meet," he began then flipped the next card. This one had a picture of me laying exhausted on the floor. The faces of my family, friends, and nagging customers all glowered down at me, "but now that you're here, it's no bed of roses. What you need is a way to out-fox those who bring you down." His hand went to the third and final card. He flipped it over and on the other side was a confident picture of me standing tall and proud. "And it seems that in the future, that's exactly what's coming."

I looked at the third card longingly. If only that last prediction were true! A cool, confident version of myself. No worries, no stress, everything completely under control. I wanted that, more than anything. The witchdoctor leered down at me, wearing the same twisted grin as before.

"Now," he said, "won't you shake a poor sinner's hand?" Dr. Facilier held out his hand from across the table. As if in a trance, I took it and shook, still stealing glances down at the cards. Facilier grabbed my wrist and produced a small mask from his left coat pocket. Not thinking much of it, I looked back at the cards. A sudden pinch on my finger cleared my head. I came to with a jolt. The cards on the table top had disappeared and I found myself standing once again. Had the reading really just happened? Or did I just space out? I shook my head. Whatever just happened, customers still needed to be fed. With my tray tucked under my arm, I muttered something at the witchdoctor and hurried towards the kitchen.

As the night wore on, so did my patience. Orders flew in and out in their usual fashion, but tonight, the act of filling them weighed heavy. Even the characters that normally put a smile on my face started working on my nerves. Whether it was indecisiveness or just the chipper sound of a voice, with each order my nerves became more and more frayed. To add insult to injury, next table was Kuzco's.

From the beginning, the Incan royal was not my favorite patron. It's not that he was a bad person, he was just a major diva. Everything he ordered had to be just so. If it wasn't, there would be hell to pay. And as if that wasn't enough, he was constantly cracking the corniest jokes.

"Uh, waitress," called Kuzco, "over here."

I offered him a sarcastic grin, "What do you want, Kuzco?"

The emperor snapped his head back and blinked twice, "Is that anyway to treat a customer, namely, me?" And so it began...

"Sorry, Kuzco-"

"Ah-ah!" he wagged his index finger in the air and wore a patronizing expression, "that's 'I'm sorry, your super fantasticness."

My hand made contact with my forehead in a act of frustration, "Look, I'm really not in the mood for this tonight. Can you please, just tell me your order?" This wasn't just a request, this was outright begging. Kuzco, apparently, didn't catch that. He only sat back, screwed up his face and crossed his arms.

"Well, someone's, being a complete grumpy grump-grumpy face tonight," he sneered.

And that is when it happened. The frustration that had built up in the pit of my stomach boiled. In the course of that moment, it dissolved the remaining strains of patience that I'd held onto so carefully. Then, it made its way up until it reached my head, soaked through to my mind, and killed my self control. I opened my mouth, to shout, yell, let him have it. However, before anything could slip out of the opening, the look on Kuzco's face made me stop.

"What?" I snapped. The character only pointed at my face. "What?" I said once more, only to see that something made Kuzco jump. Baffled, I turned, thinking maybe something had happened at another table. Once my back was to him, I heard the emperor let out a yelp. Whirling back around, it looked as if Kuzco's eyes had doubled in size.

"What's got you so freaked out?" I demanded.

"You!" he said, his voice was a pitch higher than normal, " it's you! You look all...animally."

I gave him a skeptical look then took the knife off of his table to see what he meant. In the flat of the blade I could see my eyes staring back at me. Nothing seemed to be wrong, until I realized that there was a snout where my mouth should have been! The utensil slipped from my hand and hit the table top. Without thinking, I clapped my hands over my mouth, er, snout and ran straight for the kitchen.

I shot through the double doors and grabbed the nearest pot, desperate to see my reflection. Not only did I grow a snout, but two, orange ears protruded from under my dark hair. In an attempt to calm down, I shut my eyes and counted to three. Surely this was just a dream, a stress induced hallucination. Unfortunately, before I even reached 3, the pot fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Upon opening my eyes, I found two orange, furry paws where my hands had been. That was only the beginning. More hair sprouted up my arms and legs in clumps and patches. Soon, the fur completely engulfed me. I flailed around as, slowly, my body morphed into that of a monster. I didn't know what I was doing, all I knew was that something was seriously wrong.

This couldn't be happening, I thought, why was this happening? That's when the shadowman's words came back, What you need is a way to out-fox those who bring you down...

Oh, crap.

Mickey's head snapped up in the direction of the kitchen. From the commotion he heard, Mickey knew something wasn't right. Not even Goofy managed to make that much noise. He looked over to Minnie who was standing in the wings. She could only shrug in response. Unsure of what else to do, he turned back to the audience. The dining room had become awkwardly quiet. Oh boy. He let out a nervous chuckle and tugged at the already loose collar of his shirt.

" Heh-heh, it sounds like the dishes are getting impatient, so, uh, let's roll the next cartoon!" Mickey bounded off the stage immediately after having said the worst joke of his career. He swiftly made his way from the backstage area and through to the kitchen. Minnie, Donald, and Goofy came in soon afterwards.

The kitchen was in shambles. Pots and pans littered the floor, silverware was strewn about, and poor Gus was found huddled underneath a counter.

"What happened?" shrieked Mickey, looking at the chaos all around him. Minnie went to help Gus from under his hiding spot. Before the goose could answer, however, the group heard a whining noise from inside a cabinet.

"It's all my fault," someone wailed.

"Riley!" said Goofy and he and the rest made their way to the cabinet, "What're ya doin' in there?"

"Didja see what happened?" asked Mickey, turning the knob to open the cabinet.

"No! Don't-"

"-open the door!" Too late. By the time I finished my sentence, the door to the cabinet swung open. All at once, the three cartoons faces became masks of shock. Mickey gasped, Donald yelled and hid behind Goofy, who let out a wild, "Whoa!" There I was, completely exposed with my tail- my tail!- between my legs. I whined, a high-pitched sound, and ducked my head, not daring to face the rest of the staff again.

"You're a- a- a-" stammered Mickey.

"A fox!" Donald said. I nodded and whined even more.

"But, how?" Minnie asked, coming to join the others.

"Well, it started with the food throwing, then I got pie in my hair and I was feeling so stressed, plus he was being nice and actually listened. I know I was stupid, but I didn't think this would happen!" I babbled out a string of nonsense, ashamed.

For a second the others just looked at each other, then looked back at me.

"Huh?" said Donald. I sighed, looked down once more and told my story from the beginning. I explained the food throwing, the stress of feeling overwhelmed. I told them about how Dr. Facilier had tricked me into a tarot reading, and how stupid I was to accept. Finally, I described my encounter with Kuzco and my wild transformation only moments ago. By the end of it, I felt spent, and relieved. As if just explaining everything brought about a catharsis.

"...so I'm really sorry. About everthing. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Mickey, Donald, Goofy, and Minnie gave me varying looks of pity. Mickey rubbed the back of his neck before putting a hand to my shoulder (shoulder?).

"Aw, it's ok, Riley," he said.

I brightened a bit, my ears perking up, "So you forgive me?"

"Of course," said Mickey, then stood straight and crossed his arms, "But tonight, you're responsible for cleanin' up the kitchen AND locking up. Got it?"

"Got it," I answered, genuinely grateful. After screwing up this bad, I considered this punishment getting off easy.

Mickey smiled then nodded, "Now we just gotta find a way to get ya back to normal."

Right. Now that was going to prove a challenge. Spells and enchantments like these were usually broken with the kiss of a prince. Sure, there was an abundance of princes at the House of Mouse, but I don't think any of the princesses would be too happy seeing them kiss another 'woman'. No, breaking this spell wasn't going to be done the traditional way. (AN : Sorry guys. I thought about it, but it wouldn't work. Not in this chapter anyways.) Instead, an alternative presented itself in the memory of the pinch I'd felt on my finger. I curled my lips in a mischievous smile. Dr. Facilier had said I would out-fox those that brought me down, and I was going to make damn sure his prediction came true.

Twenty minutes later, the rest of the staff and I found Facilier not at his previous table, but sitting at table thirteen. We walked up just in time to hear Hades congratulate the witchdoctor on a job well done. The lord of the dead patted Facilier on the back, the newer villain wore a satisfied smirk.

"Welcome to the club, pal," Hades said, just as we came into earshot. The table gave a toast and downed the substance in their glasses.

"Yeah," I said, "Congratulations." At the sound of my voice, Hades, the only villain I could see from my height, turned and almost choked on his drink. Once his airway was clear, though, he wasted no time in laughing in my face. Mickey, however, was not amused. The mouse stood there, arms crossed, with a no-nonsense look on his face.

"As the host of this club, I demand you change her back," he said to Dr. Facilier. That only brought about another round of mocking laughter.

"Really?" said Facilier, "Now how do you suppose you're gonna make me?" He leaned back on his chair.

I said, "When you gave me that Tarot reading, I noticed you had an interesting looking mask."

The witchdoctor only scoffed, not even looking at me, "And?"

"I happen to know it's not in your pocket anymore," again he blew me off with a dismissive wave of the hand, "No really. In fact, Goofy's got it in his hand right now." At this, Facilier looked up and was horrified to find that Goofy did indeed have the mask.

"But how did you...?"

"We called in a favor," Minnie said, glancing over at Tinkerbell. The fairy gave a tiny wave from her perch on Peter's shoulder.

"It would be a shame if something happened to it," said Donald, which only caused Facilier to pale significantly.

"Now about changin' Riley back..." said Mickey.

The transformation, which was preformed by an extremely obliging Dr. Facilier, was a snap. In less than ten minutes I was back to normal, laying on my back on the dining room floor, and with a pounding head ache to boot. But I was normal none the less.

Now, hours later, the club was devoid of all patrons. The tables were wiped down, the dishes were cleaned, and the kitchen was spotless. The rest of the staff had gone home for the night, leaving me with my designated clean up/ lock up duty. As tired as I was, I didn't care. I was just glad to be walking up right again.

As I stood outside the club, I couldn't help but laugh a little. It's funny, but the whole fiasco gave new meaning to the phrase 'focus on the positive.' It's just hard to believe that it took being turned into a fox for me to realize it.

Haha! Done at last! I hope you enjoyed it!

First off, I want to thank Mysterygirl for giving me the idea for this chapter in a review a while back, so if you liked it, you know where the idea came from!

Secondly, I'm sorry for being so long with this update, but life got in the way on more than one occasion.

Thirdly, thanks to everyone who's reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying this story and I'm sorry if I haven't responded to your reviews. Like I said, life's gotten in the way. If you have any suggestions, you know what to do!

And last but not least, I'm considering getting a beta reader. More than once while writing this chapter I realized how much I needed a second opinion on things, so if anyone's interested, just pm me. If not, then it's all good. :)

Anyways, like it, hate it, critique it, review it! Thanks for Reading!

-Daydreamer747