For Every Action...

Clunk.

That's it. No deafening bang, no scream as my insides explode across the hallway. Just one big, loud clunk.

I stare at The Gun in my hand, still not quite believing that I'm not dead. I keep staring at it until Yakko extricates it from my grip and opens the—what's it called?—that place where you load the bullets. It's completely, utterly, irrevocably empty.

"Whaddaya know," Dot remarks flatly, staring with a deadpan expression at her brother's palm. "It wasn't loaded."

My knees knocking, I'm about to drop to the floor again in relief before the male officer, whose nametag I randomly notice reads "Ryan" something, points his own gun at me again. "You're under arrest for kidnapping, assault, driving without a permit AND exceeding the speed limit on a highway!"

Oh yeah, that. I'd forgotten that I'm now destined to a life in jail.

Tiredly, I put both hands up and step towards the officers. "Take me away," I acquiesce in a dead voice. Might as well go without a struggle. Heck, I'm not brave enough to try and take on a cop, even if I hadn't had a near-death experience two seconds ago.

As the female officer (nametag reading "Carley" this time) snaps a pair of cold handcuffs around my wrists, a ridiculously short man, the guy I'd thrown the ransom note at—was it only an hour ago?—rounds the corner, arms crossed superiorly. Apparently he's been waiting for the officers to secure me before making his entrance. He smirks cockily up at me as he walks forwards. "So this is our little miss Lydeah Hoskins," he drawls condescendingly, placing each step deliberately in corny movie fashion. "Thought you could get away with scamming Warner Brothers, eh? But you got beaten. Just goes to show that crime doesn't pay."

"It wasn't a scam," I shoot back, a twinge of my old anger flaring up in me. "Edward deserves a happy birthday. You just needed a slap in the face to realize it."

He lets out a short, derogatory bark of a laugh, resuming his pacing. "While your ransom demand has admittedly been the most original I've seen, Miss Hoskins, your intents are hardly more rational than the average kidnapper." Here he pauses, giving me the sort of expression of amused bewilderment that you wear around kids who say that babies grow in vegetable patches. "But what, I repeat what gave you the stupid idea of kidnapping the WARNERS?"

My eyes self-consciously flick towards the three toons standing just behind me. "I didn't know," I inform him emotionlessly.

The "Ryan" character steps forwards and faces the old guy, placing a hand on my back. "I think that's a long enough heroic monologue, sir." He then looks down at me—not in a friendly way, but very coldly. "Let's go, Lydeah."

He and "Carley" haven't walked me more than three steps out of the hallway when a mischievous, nasally voice interrupts, "Aaaaaahhh...what're ya doin'?"

I instinctively whip around, and "Ryan" pushes roughly against my shoulder to try and turn me back. The female officer answers instead. "We're arresting your kidnapper, boys. ...And girl," she adds as soon as Dot raises her hand. "She'll be taking a little ride with us to the station."

Wakko plods forwards, an inscrutable grin on his face. "Why's that?"

"Carley" 's eye twitches slightly. "She's a criminal."

"What's she done?"

With a frustrated noise, she turns to "Ryan", who finally stops pushing on me and lets me face whatever direction I want—which right now is the Warners'. Adjusting the brim of his hat slightly, the man recites mechanically the same speech he'd delivered before. "Kidnapping, assault, driving without a permit and exceeding the speed limit on a highway."

Dot twines her hands together, bending forwards enough that her skirt flares up in a strangely cute manner. "But Mister Strange Dreamboat in Blue, Liddy hasn't done any of those things," she chirps innocently.

What the he—What are they...

The short old guy stomps forwards again, looking to form an angry sentence—he catches himself, though, and speaks in a calmer voice. "Look, you little bra—I mean, children," he says, squatting down in front of them, "Miss Hoskins is a bad person, and she did bad things. And we have people, myself included, who SAW her doing those bad things. So I don't see what you're—"

"THAT WAS US!"

Nobody expects this outburst, and so there's a stunned silence from all involved as Dot jumps on Wakko's shoulders and Wakko on Yakko's, then, once all three are balanced, they start to spin around at such a high speed that all I can see is a blur. Then, when they finally grind to a halt and give us a good look—

They're ME.

It's a carbon copy of me standing there, same height, same complexion, same long, scraggly dark hair. But it's me wearing a black oversized Dresden Dolls T-shirt, ratty jeans, gloves, a knit ski cap and a Robin mask, holding the gun. Just how I looked when I kidnapped them.

When the other me opens her mouth to speak, she does so in MY VOICE, the same pitch, the same occasional weird rasp from months of underuse. "We did it, Plotzy. We wanted to play a joke on you. And boy did you fall for it!"

A smile spreads across the other Lydeah's face, a look that I had completely forgotten. And, self-consciously, I start to smile too. Not a dark smile, or a flat one, but a real smile. They're giving me a second chance.

"Plotzy", as I suppose that they've addressed the old guy, is frantically opening and closing his mouth, but no sounds are coming out. At last he manages to speak, flapping his arms about in confusion. "B-but why?" he demands shrilly, then tries to compose himself. "I-I mean, how can you prove that it was you?"

The other Lydeah seems to melt, and she dissolves back into the three Warners, who immediately hop off each other and to the floor. "It's just fun," Yakko replies, assuming a casual pose. He lifts up one hand, which has the gun in it, and starts to twirl the weapon around his index finger. "You can't prove that Lydeah was ever wearing those clothes—she coulda' been in these sweats all day. Besides, would a smart young kidnapper come after us with a gun that wasn't loaded? Or demand a DVD?"

These seem like valid points, and most of the cops seem to agree. "All right, all right, you kidnapped yourselves," "Ryan" sighs, though his tone is still gruff, and he unlocks and removes my handcuffs. Then, without any discernible warning, his hand claps back on my shoulder and he starts steering me out of the hallway just as I begin to rub my aching wrists.

"What're you freaking doing?!" I demand, wrenching myself out of his grip and backing towards the Warners. "I'm innocent! You've got their confession on that!"

"Carley" takes a step towards me, and I shuffle backwards again until I've almost bumped up against Dot. The officer takes another step, seeming a little irritated. "That's not the only thing we need you for," she informs me, suddenly finding it vitally important to grab a stack of papers from someone behind her and shake it at me. "You've been living unsupervised in this house for two years. As you're not a legal adult, this is against the law. Seeing as your parents abandoned you, though, this falls under child abuse, and so we need your testimony against them. Then, most likely, we'll transfer you to the care of a relative or a foster home."

DAMMIT. DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT—

If I'd never kidnapped the Warners, they might never have found out. Shit. It all keeps coming back down to this one mistake, doesn't it? Hell hell hell hell he—

"Whaddaya mean, unsupervised?"

My internal monologue is abruptly cut off as three pairs of arms suddenly wrap around my waist, and three Warner bodies press firmly up against me. I spasm reflexively, still unused to physical contact, but they hang on regardless as the adults stare on in confusion.

"We've been visitin' Liddy for years!" Yakko proclaims in such a confident, reassuring tone of voice that I almost start feeling like I believe it. "Day in, day out, multiple hours, multiple lunches—all the time!"

Wakko nods vigorously, long tail curling around one of my legs. "Lots an' lots of lunches."

"Wh—" "Carley" and "Ryan" stammer in near-unison, "what?"

Keeping her hold on me with both legs, Dot reaches into an invisible pocket in her skirt and pulls out three sheets of paper, which she waves gleefully at our audience. "We're legal adults! We're even legal for retirement! Says here on our toon birth certificates that when we were created in '93 we were already legally sixty-four years old." She bats her eyelashes at "Ryan". "So, Tall, Dark and Hunky, Liddy hasn't done anything wrong."

When the frick had I become "Liddy"? But I don't even notice, heart still pounding in my chest. Why the hell are they trying to save me? Sure, I've done a lousy job of kidnapping them, and doubtless they've had their twisted fun annoying me—

Yakko pats the top of my head, though his smile is still mischievous. "Liddy's a good kid, fellas. Just a little...y'know." He uses his forefinger to trace circles in the air by his ears.

I reflexively elbow him in the gut. He grins, poking me in the nose. Then Wakko kicks me in the kneecaps, Dot pinches my waist and, without even meaning to, I burst out laughing. Whooping hysterics, tears even leaking out again, and I don't care that I look as crazy as Yakko says I am. I really don't.

Because it's all good. The Warners forgive me. I forgive them—a little, seeing as I'm still sore from head to toe from all their antics.

And, for some insane reason, I'm happier than I've ever been in a long time.

The moment's broken by a pointed cough from "Ryan", who looks at the short old guy. "Plotzy" seems slightly disgusted, probably at the fact that they no longer have adequate evidence to arrest me. Then "Carley" steps forwards. "That's all well and good for now," she states in a hard voice, tipping the brim of her hat backwards a little, "but Miss Hoskins needs better supervision for her age. Meaning at least one registered adult living with her until she turns eighteen."

I stiffen, and feel the Warners' sly grins heating up my face. And I feel my own smile coming back. It's gonna be all right. For the first time in two years, everything is finally gonna be all right.

Two weeks later.

"A squirrel," I repeat, a steely edge in my voice.

"Yup." All three Warners nod in unison.

I'm standing in front of a huge oak tree in the middle of a goddamn forest with a backpack over my shoulder and the Warners are telling me that I'm going to live with a squirrel.

"Let me get this straight," I try again, attempting to break their cheeky smiles with my angry glare. "A squirrel. Meaning those gray and sometimes brown things that live in trees and scamper around collecting nuts."

Wakko shrugs, tongue lolling out once more. "I guess."

"Hey, she's a legal adult," Yakko reassures me, though for my life I can't be sure whether he's joking or not. He drapes an arm around my shoulders, even though he has to stand on his tiptoes to even reach that high. "Aaaah, you'll like it here, Liddy. When we look at you, Slappy's the first one we think of."

"Besides Bela Lugosi," jibes Dot, smiling sweetly. I take a swing at her out of habit, but she twirls lightly out of the way, giggling. Then in a flash all three of them have gotten behind me and are pushing me towards the front of the tree.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're—" I begin, then stop abruptly and dig my heels into the ground. The front of the tree is set up like a regular old house, with a door and flight of stairs set in the base and various shuttered windows going all the way up the trunk, some even with windowbox flower gardens. I whirl around to face Yakko again. "What in the name of—"

I'm cut off by a rustling sound, and I turn back around again to see a toon man striding down some kind of walkway towards the tree. He's dressed immaculately in a suit and tie, briefcase at his side. He waves cheerfully to me and the Warners, whistling as he knocks on the door of the tree. It swings open, but my view of what's behind it is blocked by the man.

"Hello," he says, taking off his hat and lifting his suitcase, "do you have your own life insu—"

KRA-BOOM!!

The salesman flies backwards at warp speed, completely blackened and sizzling. I stare after him for a while, then my head whips around again to look at the front door. Standing there is a toon squirrel just a head lower than me, old and gray-furred and with a green bowler hat on her head and a cannon sitting next to her. She shrugs at me mischievously, not seeming overly concerned by my presence. "Hey, I don't like salesmen."

A quirky, strange, lopsided grin appears on my face. "I like her," I comment.

I begin to move towards the house which the squirrel has disappeared back into, but I'm suddenly barraged with a triple-barreled flying tackle hug that nearly sends me sprawling onto the ground. Giving a slight yelp, I squirm desperately to try to escape the still-alien sensation of physical contact, but Yakko, Wakko and Dot have too tight a grip, and before long they've managed to wriggle up to my shoulder height. And, before I can figure out what's happening, all three of them plant a huge, sloppy kiss on my face.

This effectively paralyzes me, and it's only after they've bounded back to the forest floor that I manage to get enough feeling back in my limbs to wipe the excess saliva off my burning cheeks. Then Yakko extends his hand to Wakko, who pulls out a large sack out of his pocket, rifles around in it and extracts a pair of rectangular packages, which he hands to Dot, who hands them to Yakko, who hands them all the way up to me.

Animaniacs volume 1. And—my heart jackhammers when I recognize the picture on the second package—Edward Scissorhands, Fifteenth Anniversary edition, with special interviews with the production crew, movie trailer, a "making-of" featurette and a bonus cartoon, "Skullhead Boneyhands".

"Happy birthday, Lydeah," says Yakko, smiling widely. "For all three of the botched ones."

My eyes travel over the covers of the DVDs, then towards the door of the squirrel's house, and finally back to the Warners, all of whom are wearing genuine grins.

"Happy birthday", Lydeah. The world is yours.

And you're finally back in it.