Chapter 20: Setting the Stage
Dawn was breaking. Yakko could tell by the wash of warmth on his face. But he screwed his eyes tighter together and continued to float between sleep and awake.
The three of them had made it a few miles last night before conceding to exhaustion. Oswald had found a small valley nestled between two knolls and they were all nearly asleep before they hit the ground. The earth beneath him was cold, but sometime during the night Babs had cozied up against Yakko's side, sharing her comforting warmth. He curled his arm around her and pulled her tighter to his chest. This made her sigh.
His nose was cold too, so he found a soft spot where Babs' neck met her shoulder and nuzzled his face there. Her smell was like a drug that pulled him down, deeper back into sleep. What was he doing, sleeping next to this girl and holding her like she was his? This was wrong. This was betrayal. But after everything, he was just too tired right now to care. She was warm (in so many ways, he realized), she was wonderful, and body curved so perfectly against his. What he wouldn't give to just be able to stay like this, to not have to be on the run, to have a normal life again for just five minutes –
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind when Yakko's ears twitched at a small sound not too far away. His body stiffened and he willed himself to keep still, though he could not keep the fur from bristling on his neck. They were being watched.
Clutching Babs so tightly he was surprised she hadn't stirred, Yakko cracked open one eye. A large figure was approaching them. His heart pounded, and he was suddenly very wide awake. Babs and Oswald were still asleep, he'd have to wake them without raising alarm – but the figure was now picking up speed, he was already too late, he'd given into sleep when he knew they were being chased –
In one movement Yakko jumped to his feet and pulled his mallet from his hammerspace. He was barely aware of Babs jumping awake at his feet because the horse in front of him – wait, a horse? – had now reared back in shock. It let out a piercing whinny, one that woke up Oswald in a flurry of "What the heck? Who let in the horse?" But above it all, Yakko heard an unmistakable voice shout, "No Yakko, don't hurt Figgy! It's me, we've come to rescue you!"
Yakko lowered his mallet. Babs was on her feet now, and together they said, "Pinky?"
The horse, which Yakko now recognized to be Farfignewton, dropped back to all fours with a typical dopey grin. Pinky and, to Yakko's surprise, Speedy Gonzales scurried to the top of her head. "Hola amigos! Long time no see, eh?" Speedy greeted cheerfully.
Yakko grinned and was about to respond when Pinky threw himself from Farfignewton's head and latched onto his chest. "Yakko! Babs! I'm so happy you're alive! Narf!"
Patting him with an index finger, Yakko muttered, "Could say the same thing about you guys, Pink. No offense, but how in the world did you find us? Have you seen Wakko and Dot?"
"No Wakko or Dot, no Brain either," Pinky said with a sigh.
"We found Daffy," Speedy chimed in, "he told us to search ToonGO. Thought it was no good. We were on our way when we spotted you two lovebirds." Speedy waggled his eyebrows at them. "But eh, who is this third amigo?"
He jerked his thumb at Oswald, who had been watching the conversation with a small amount of interest. He jolted slightly when addressed but recovered quickly and muttered, "Hey there, I'm uh, I'm Oswald. Former Disney toon."
Speedy stroked his chin. "You knew Mickey, eh? He talks about you at Christmas parties – "
"How cute," Babs butt in impatiently, "but you said you saw Daffy? What about Bugs, or Buster?"
"Daffy can't find Bugs, it's so terribly sad!" Pinky cried, "Daffy said he got caught be someone named…oh what was his name…Stoney? Boulder?"
Speedy rolled his eyes. "Rocky."
Babs gasped and they shared a shocked glance. Bugs was caught…somehow this made everything seem much more difficult. And given the circumstances, that was really saying something.
"Rocky, right! No Buster either. But now we have you!" Pinky continued, "You have to come back to Toontown, please! We promised Daffy we would bring help!"
Yakko scooped him up in his hand. "Of course we will, that what we've been trying to do for…geez, what day is it?"
"24th a' January, amigo."
Babs blinked. "Hey Yakko, happy belated birthday."
He stared at her, realizing she was right. He'd been twenty-years-old for the last four days.
And he'd been gone for nearly two months.
"Well what are we waiting for?" Oswald said, climbing onto Farfignewton's back. We have to go back and save the town so we can have birthday cake!"
Wakko shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid more pine needles sticking into his side. But the van hit another bump and his head struck the metal wall with a thunk. He groaned and cursed under his breath. A muttering from across the van meant that Dot had done the same thing. He couldn't tell for sure, considering he was currently stuck inside a burlap sack.
Pete didn't want them to be seen when they got to – well, wherever they were going – so he'd been resourceful and stuffed them each in used pine tree sacks. It was probably the smartest thing he'd ever done, though there wasn't a lot of competition for that achievement. But now Wakko, Dot, and Skippy were in the back of a van with three other weasels, with Minerva at the wheel. Pete, deciding that Buster wasn't to be trusted, was escorting him in his squad car. He'd given Minerva a walkie talkie and would occasionally bark orders at her; Minerva's voice was drowned out by the engine, but Pete's voice was so loud that Wakko could hear him even over the walkie talkie.
Another bump sent his head against the metal. Wakko cringed and screwed his eyes tight against tears, though he knew they weren't from pain. He'd tried, he really had – he'd tried to save the day. Tried to step in when Yakko could not. And where had it gotten him and his sister and their friends? Tied up in Christmas tree sacks and in the back of a van, heading toward what he could only imagine was certain doom. He was useless.
"Wakko?"
He could barely hear her over the engine and Pete's gruff voice.
"Wakko, you there?" Dot couldn't speak above a whisper or the weasels would claw out at them. He knew from experience.
"Don't talk to me," he grumbled.
"But Wakko – "
"Stop, Dot! I know I screwed up, you don't have to try to make me feel better, it's not gonna work!"
"Would you just shut up and listen?"
"What?"
"Listen to Pete!"
Frowning, Wakko pressed against the rough burlap. If he concentrated, he could hear Pete through the noise.
"Listen to me mink, how many times do I gotta say it? You take the squirrel, I'll take the kids. No, I ain't takin' 'em to Rocky, they're goin' straight to the Boss. What? Hell no! Look, first stop, you take the squirrel. Second stop, I take the kids. Or is that too much for your tiny blonde brain?"
Wakko twisted in the tight material. For a moment he was glad he couldn't see Dot or Skippy. He didn't want to see the terrified looks on their faces.
"D-don't worry Skippy," he heard Dot stutter, "It'll be okay, we'll figure something out – "
"It's okay," Skippy whispered, "maybe I can get away from Minerva and go look for help."
A light blinked on in Wakko's head.
"Skippy. Switch with me. Quick."
"What?"
"Switch sides with me, hurry, before they notice."
Whether he was scared or just confused, Skippy obeyed – at the next big bump he hurled himself next the Wakko, landing with a thump. Wakko thrust himself against the sack and tumbled to the other side of the van. Given the amount of hissing and scratching he'd landed in what must be the lap of a weasel.
"Wakko, what are you – " Dot began, but Wakko blindly struck out his foot a few times until he landed one on her.
"Ow! What gives?"
"Shhhh!"
The van screeched to an awkward halt, sending them all careening. Minerva's heels clicked along the ground as she rounded the van and wrenched open the doors.
"Alright ugly, gimme the – "
"Give her the squirrel," Pete cut over her. "They can paint each other's nails an' such, ha!"
Wakko felt the ground disappear beneath him as he was hoisted into the air, only to be dropped unceremoniously on the asphalt.
"Why bother with him? He's dead weight. Let's make him real dead weight, just like his aunt," Minerva shot back.
Wakko gulped. Not good.
"Can it ya dumb blonde, ya said yerself he and the girl were an item, so the squirrel's leverage! Stick with the damn plan!"
"You just want to be the one to take them to the Boss!"
"'Course I do! And you want to see loverboy, so get!"
Minerva must be the one dragging him across the ground now, because she was close enough for Wakko to hear her muttering curses under her breath. He strained his ears to listen to the van drive away, and all was quiet again. Wakko knew he must act, and act soon, so he did everything he could to push the fear down and away. The element of surprise was the only chance he had.
"So, squirrel, you and I have a bit of a history, huh?" Minerva said, her voice taking back some of its usual purr.
Wakko kept his mouth shut. He couldn't fake Skippy's voice…why couldn't he be a mimic like Yakko…
"I'm sure even you've managed to figure out that I took out your aunt."
Ever so slowly, Wakko drew out a large pair of scissors from behind his back.
"I…you should know…look, I didn't want to get my hands dirty, but I didn't have a choice, okay? She stuck her old nose in where it didn't belong, she was gonna blow our whole cover. She was too stupid to just mind her own business. I didn't know that DIP stuff was as…powerful as it was. But she should've just left well enough alone – "
The blades of the scissors tore through the sack like paper and Wakko burst onto his feet. Minerva barely had time to let out a shriek before he'd landed a spectacular mallet shot on her head. Letting out a dazed chuckle, Minerva dropped to the ground. But Wakko didn't even see her faceplant on the asphalt; he was sprinting wildly away from her, determined to put as much distance between him and her as possible before she came to. He'd covered nearly half a mile before he even began to take in his surroundings. And when he realized where he was, he felt like he'd been hit by a mallet too.
He was back on the lot.
When they'd crested the hill and caught their first glimpse of Los Angeles, Babs whooped so loudly that Yakko had to cover her mouth. She spit out a quick apology but could not hide the giddy laugh that was bubbling out of her. He could hardly blame her – he'd never thought LA could look so drop dead gorgeous. They were finally home again.
Farfignewton had descended into the valley; the more human-populated cities were far more subdued than he'd remembered them. Were they suffering from the toons' problems as well? Yakko got his answer when they'd reached Toontown: it was a ghost town. With the exception of a weasel darting through the streets, the once lively toon hub was unnervingly still. Even Pinky, who'd been chattering at them like a broken pullstring doll the entire trip, had fallen silent as they drifted through the empty streets.
Babs leaned over Farfignewton's flank to get a better look. "This is so spooky…where is everyone…"
"And to think, I used to say I'd give anything for less traffic," Yakko muttered. Sensing Babs was about to fall right off of the horse's back he tightened his grip on her waist.
Farfignewton neighed and jerked her head to the left. They followed her gaze to see toons in the distance, seemingly marching in a single file line. Yakko urged her closer. He realized that they were being herded by weasels with what had to be DIP guns. And the direction they were marching in to…Yakko had a bad feeling about it.
"C'mon, let's follow them," he whispered.
Trotting at a careful distance, they trailed the agonizingly slow pace of the toons. Yakko scanned their faces, trying to find the two that resembled his own, but he recognized no one. But soon it became clear where they were headed. They rounded they corner.
"The lot," he and Babs said together.
"The Warner Brother's lot?" Oswald repeated curiously, "I've never been allowed on it before."
Yakko's eyes narrowed as he watched the toons filing into the gate. "Something tells me you won't be needing to show any ID."
"But where are the humans?" Oswald asked.
Babs sighed and pointed to the security booth. Three weasels had two of the terrified security guards bound together by a thick rope. "What is this, Dudley Do-Right?" Yakko muttered.
"No offense Pinky, but I don't think we can sneak in very well with Figgy here. She's a bit eye-catching," Babs pointed out.
"Isn't she though?" Pinky cooed, batting his eyes at her.
Speedy rolled his eyes. "Listen, we split up, right? You three follow, we'll check the perimeter. Deal?"
"Deal," Yakko agreed, using his pinky finger to shake hands with Speedy. "You guys watch yourselves, okay? That DIP will leave a stain that won't come out."
"Aye aye, captain!" Pinky cried with a salute. Everyone else shushed him, and he blushed and whispered, "Sorry!"
Yakko and the others slid off of Farfignewton's back. Babs patted her flank and said, "Thanks Figgy, we really owe ya one." Yakko couldn't agree more.
"See ya on the flip side, amigos!" Speedy called, waving as they disappeared around the wall. Yakko decided that if he lived through all of this, he was going to take optimism classes with Speedy.
"So what's the plan on getting in without being seen?" Oswald asked.
"I'm not wearing a sack over my head, just saying," Babs added.
"That's not going to be necessary," Yakko said, "follow me, and I'll give you a little tour."
He led them to his spot in the wall where the bricks were missing. He tried not to think about that face that the last time he'd done this he'd met Bugs. He, Oswald, and Babs crept through the lot, taking advantage of the long shadows cast by the sinking sun. The captive toons were being herded in a serpentine path throughout the studio, past the executive buildings and to the soundstages. The aching familiarity of the place was colliding with the anxiety inside his chest. Memories bubbled up with nearly every building, and yet he couldn't help but wonder what sinister purpose they were being used for now. Were there more Machines? Were these toons doomed to be turned into weasels, or worse – were they headed for DIP?
Beside him, Babs was squeezing his hand rather tightly, her eyes wide and sharp as they followed the toons' and weasels' every move. Oswald, on the other hand, was taking a much more meandering path. The weasels seemed little more than an afterthought to him; he was much more interested in taking in the sights of the WB lot. Several times he's wandered off so far from their little group that Yakko had to grab him by the shoulder and yank him back into the shadows.
"Why don't you go pose with one of the weasels and I'll take your picture?" Yakko snapped irritably.
"Easy for you to say, you've been here before, this is old hat to you!"
"Quiet you two!" Babs hissed, "Look!"
She was pointing to a building that Yakko remembered to be one of the theaters. All of the toons were being shepherded in through the double doors. Up close, they looked as nervous and scared as Yakko felt.
"Think anyone's at the back door?" Yakko asked.
Babs kept her eyes locked on the toons. "Let's find out."
They made a large loop through two soundstages to avoid being seen before circling around to the back of the theater. Yakko was familiar with this place. Warner Brother's premiered a lot of their movies internally here – they'd even played I'm Mad on the big screen once it was finished. He remembered thinking it was odd to see his face so large and in front of so many people. It was the first time he'd ever felt self-conscious about being on camera. From then on he'd skipped every Animaniacs! premiere until Plotz grew wise to him and chewed him out for it. Yakko had responded by sticking a ferret down his pants. He didn't know why he was thinking about all of this right now.
Behind the theater was a crew door that led to the backstage. Unsurprisingly, a weasel was standing guard.
"What do we do about him?" Babs asked.
Oswald pushed past them with a flourish. "Leave him to me. You two can scamper on in there and see what all the fuss is about."
Yakko grabbed his shoulder. "Wait."
Oswald turned to face him, one of his ears cocked in interest. As strange and abrupt in Yakko's life as he was, there was something about the little guy that Yakko wanted to keep close and protect. But the words would not come.
Oswald smirked. "Don't worry about it, Warner. I've been around the block a few times. I can keep my ears on my head."
Yakko's grip on him loosened and Oswald strolled casually toward the weasel. This bravado seemed to throw the weasel for a moment and he stared at Oswald, his jaw slack.
"Hey pal, yeah you, the one in the snappy jumpsuit," Oswald called out to him, "can you point me to the Batmobile? My grandson told me a can't leave 'til I get a few polaroids of that one!"
The weasel broke out of his spell and leapt for Oswald, who danced easily out of the way. "Missed me missed, now ya gotta kiss me!" he teased, and sprinted away from them. The weasel gave chase, and they disappeared in the maze of soundstages.
"I can see the family resemblance," Babs said with a smirk. Yakko gave her a playful nudge before they tiptoed to the door. He inched it open, peeked inside, and saw nothing but cleaning supplies and abandoned props. There was a partition about fifteen feet away that blocked off where the actors would typically prepare. He and Babs slipped quietly inside.
Their corner of backstage was dark, but he could tell by the cracks of light throught he partition and the noise that there was a great deal of activity right around the corner. Biting her lip, Babs crept to the large velvet curtain and drew it back. "Yakko, come here, quick!"
He joined her and stared over her shoulder. It was a full house: all of the toons they'd followed were being ushered into the rows of seats. Even the balconies were taken up by skittish-looking toons. Once a row was full, two armed weasels stood on either end to make sure there were no premature departures.
"If there's an audience, that must mean there's a show," Yakko muttered.
The sound of footsteps sent them diving behind a prop barrel. A weasel came hurrying in to grab a broom and darted back out just as quickly. Yakko locked eyes with Babs and, through some implicit understanding, crawled to the petition and pulled it back by the corner.
It looked for all the world like the backstage of Les Misertoons, five minutes before show time. Weasels and toons alike were bustling about, applying makeup, putting on costumes, and checking over scripts. Yakko bit back a gasp as Mickey Mouse hurried past. What was he doing here? In fact, what was Foghorn doing here, towering over the weasels? And Daisy, pulling on a frilly skirt and heels? Upon second glance he noticed a strange jerkiness to their movements, as though all their joints were stiff. Daisy seemed to be struggling to get her foot into one of her heels. Foghorn kept dropping his comb, only to have one the weasels scoop it up and hand it back to him. Yakko glanced at Babs, who shrugged and looked as completely bewildered as he was. What was going on?
But then a weasel scrambled out of his view and all thought came to a screeching halt. It was as though someone had kicked him in the chest. There was Bugs, barely ten feet away from him, pouring over a script.
"Bugs – " he choked out in a rasp, but Babs clapped her hand over his mouth. He pulled it away, already pushing himself to his feet without any kind of conscious will, but she dragged him back down again. He fell painfully on his tail, and he turned to shout at her but she shushed him again.
"Yakko, calm down – "
"It's Bugs!"
"I know, but – "
"Then let me go!"
"Will you just listen for a second? Something's not right here."
"Yeah, Bugs is here and we're not grabbing him and running for the hills."
"But look at him. After all of this, you think he'd just be standing there, reading a script? While other toons are being forced here at gunpoint? I don't like this."
Yakko's fists clenched and unclenched. The small voice in the back of his head was agreeing with what she said, which he hated. His heart was beating too fast for what she said to be true, and he was too close. He couldn't wait, not after everything.
"Just give me a minute, okay?" he said, getting back to his feet.
"Yakko!" she hissed, but he darted away from her, skirting between the harried toons.
"Bugs!" he cried. His heart was threatening to leap straight out of his mouth. "Over here, it's me, Yakko! Bugs!"
Despite being barely an arm's length from him, Bugs still hadn't lifted his eyes from his script. Frowning, Yakko reached out and pulled the script out of his hands. "Bugs, I…um…"
This got his attention. Bugs' eyes snapped to meet his own, but Yakko might as well have been looking at a stranger. The rabbit's eyes were hard and without a single flicker of warmth or recognition in them. His brow was knit together in an unfamiliar scowl. "What the hell, mac? Don't you realize I'm a star? Give me back my script!"
Yakko blinked back at him in shock, his stomach sinking. "But…but Bugs – "
"But Bugs!" Bugs mimicked cruelly, "That's Mr. Bunny to you!"
He knew that he and Bugs hadn't left on the best terms. He knew he didn't deserve to be welcomed back with open arms. They weren't exactly family, after all. But that hadn't stopped Yakko from hoping that Bugs would forget all about that and treat him like they were. Even yelling and sticks of dynamite would be better than this.
He made a grab for the script but Yakko snatched it away. As he did so, Yakko noticed something catch in the light near the top of Bugs' head. Squinting, he realized that it was a fine stream of ink trickling from his ear. The fur on the back of Yakko's neck stood on end.
"Bugs," he said sharply, "What's wrong? What did they do to you?"
"Nothing compared to what we're gonna do to you," answered a snide voice.
Yakko whirled around to see Bosko and Mortimer, DIP guns raised. Mortimer's formerly beige fur was stained gray, and Bosko now had a lump on his head that was somewhat difficult to distinguish from his mangled skin. "Whatsa matter, Daddy don't love you no more?" Mortimer jeered.
"Depends who you're talking about," Yakko shot back, glaring pointedly at Bosko. Mortimer frowned, his eyes flicking between Yakko and Bosko, whose color had drained from his face.
"Am I missin' somethin' here?" Mortimer asked.
Out of the corner of his eye Yakko noticed Babs slowly making her way towards them, a lit stick of dynamite in each hand.
"He's full of hot air, just like the rabbit," Bosko jeered, his eyes fixated on Yakko, "bet he wouldn't be all talk if he knew his darling brother and sister was here."
Yakko felt as if he'd suddenly fallen straight through the floor. Everything around him may as well have vanished. "Wait, my sibs? Where are they?"
He lunged forward, but Bosko jerked his DIP gun at him. "Don't think so Warner. It's the end of the line for you. Why don't you come with us, and maybe I'll let you live long enough to wipe their diapers one more time."
Babs was close now. The wicks were nearly burnt out.
"I would, but believe it or not, I wasn't born yesterday. Hell Bosko, you should know that better than anyone," Yakko said.
Mortimer frowned again. "What's this dink on about?"
Instead of growing pale, Bosko's face was bubbling over with red. He pointed his DIP gun directly at Bugs. "If you don't shut up and get over here I'm turning the rabbit into a cotton-tailed puddle!"
Bugs crossed his arms, completely oblivious to any and all danger. "Can't a rabbit memorize his lines in peace?"
Babs leapt forward. She sunk one stick in the belt of Mortimer's pants quite successfully, but Bosko, with shocking dexterity, twisted out of her way. DIP exploded from his gun with a boom and coursed straight for Bugs. Yakko dove, instinctively, like a bird taking flight, and tackled Bugs out of the way. They landed in a heap, and Yakko's face was buried somewhere in Bugs' shoulder blades when he heard it: the hissing sound of melting skin accompanied by an otherworldly shriek of pain. He whipped around. The DIP had connected with a passing weasel, who'd all but dissolved into nothingness.
For a moment there was silence. Every toon behind stage had frozen, staring at the grisly sight before them. Then the stick of dynamite in Mortimer's pants exploded. The bang was like a trigger, as every toon flew into a panic.
It was chaos. All the toons were sprinting different directions, away from the stench of death, away from the fallen, nameless toon. Their shouts and screams drowned out Yakko's voice as he called for Babs, who'd disappeared into the churning masses. He dug his fingers into Bugs' arm, but he was ripped away from him in seconds. Yakko lurched forward to grab him again, only to be thrown back by a frantic gorilla toon.
"Bugs! Babs!"
Dot's ears perked up against the burlap as the van came to a stop. The whole vehicle rocked when Pete got out of the cabin, and again when he slammed the door shut. She could hear him stomping around to the back doors.
"That little blue bastard – jumped right outta a movin' ve-hicle! I'll kill 'im!"
Her heart soared. That could only mean Buster. Was he free now too?
The doors wrenched open – clear off their hinges, judging by the sound of it.
"Gimme those!"
Dot and her sack were yanked violently upwards, and she squeaked as she felt herself being tossed over his back.
"If you two ink splots so much as even think about running off, I'll DIP both your hides without even blinkin'!"
Well, Wakko had already thought about it. Did that count?
"You there!" Pete shouted to someone unseen, "Yeah you, fatso, give me the guns and help me!"
The smell of DIP seeped through the sack, and Dot took courage in the fact that Skippy was still next to her. She tried to feel for his hand through the burlap, but she was suddenly flipped up and over before tumbling straight out of the sack and to the ground.
"The squirrel? What the – those idiot weasels! They gave me the wrong runt! I'm gonna wring their scrawny little necks!" Pete bellowed.
Scrambling next to Skippy, Dot took in her surroundings. If she didn't know any better, she'd say she was in a soundstage. Heck, it looked like one from the Warner lot. Pete was looming over them, looking furious, and behind him was a very large, very dim-looking toon. His eyes were pointing in different directions, and a bit of drool was clinging to his chin. But when his attention drifted to her, his eyes gradually came into focus. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze until the toon raised his thick hand and gave her a small but unmistakable wave. Puzzled, she snuck a tiny wave back.
Pete's fist connected with the toon's cheek. Crack! The toon staggered. Dot gasped.
"Quit standin' there and lookin' like a knuckle-dragger, Mugsy!" Pete snapped, "Find that dippy mink, she grabbed the wrong splot. You heard me!"
When Mugsy continued to stare at Dot, Pete landed a punch on his nose that actually crunched when it hit.
"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Dot cried out. Skippy mumbled something, but the ink was pounding too loudly in her ears.
An ugly grin split Pete's face. "Aw, you afraid I'm gonna turn the handsome down a notch on your boyfriend's face? Why, between him and the squirrel over here, you've got yourself a good ol' fashioned love triangle, little lady!"
"Be quiet!" Skippy shot back. Dot blinked at him. By Skippy standards, that outburst was downright explosive.
This only encouraged Pete to laugh harder. But then she noticed that Mugsy was staring at her, again, and his face had arranged itself into what had the potential to be a smile.
"That fat oaf always likes the short ones," Pete chuckled, nodding in Mugsy's direction, "probably 'cause his old boss was a real shortstack – "
The door behind them flew open, revealing a harassed-looking Minerva. Her hair was mussed, and one of the sleeves on her dress was torn and drooping limply from her shoulder.
"There you are," Pete grumbled, "I hope you know you took the wrong kid – wait a second, where is your kid?"
Realizing that Wakko was nowhere to be seen, Dot heart practically floated.
"Missing," Minerva spat.
Pete slammed his fist into the wall, breaking off bits of plaster. "You lost him? See, this is why women should just stay the hell home, instead of insisting on taggin' along. You mean to tell me you not only grabbed the wrong one, but you lost him on top of that? You're explaining this to the boss, mink, he's a kid, how hard could – "
If looks could kill, Pete would have dropped straight to the floor. Minerva's voice was painfully shrill as she shrieked, "Don't you dare blame this on me, you're the one who made us stick 'em in bags! That idiot kid malleted me from behind, the coward – "
Dot snickered at this, and Minerva turned the hateful look on her. "Laugh all you want you little brat. This place is dripping with DIP, he'll be dead in minutes."
Dot's face melted into a glare.
Pete dragged a heavy hand over his face. "You'd better hope to hell he's still alive. Looks like I'm going to have to go out and save the day again. I'll go find the kid before the boss figures he's gone missing. Mink, you stay here and watch the kids with Mugsy…now, remember, the point is for them not to escape, think you can handle that?"
"Here, let me show you what I can handle – "
Minerva pulled out a DIP gun just Pete retrieved his own. They pointed their guns directly at each other, until Dot said, "I'd be careful if I were you, I heard that stuff is bad for your health."
Minerva was the first to end the standoff, choosing instead to sniff haughtily at Dot. But the door opened suddenly, and Minerva's face went from haughty to dumbstruck so quickly that Dot wondered if she'd shapeshifted. Turning to the door, Dot's stomach dropped.
Rocky slammed the door shut behind him and walked toward them with quick, short strides that clicked as he walked.
"Rocky!" Minerva gasped, batting her eyes and dashing toward him. Dot was reminded of the teen girls at JTAP. "Baby, it's been so long, I missed you so mu – "
She stooped to fling her arms around him, but Rocky elbowed her out of the way, sending her staggering. "Give me the girl," he snapped at Pete. "Dispose of the squirrel. Excess baggage."
Dot gasped as Pete grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, lifting her clean off the floor. "Finders keepers!"
Without hesitating Rocky pulled his DIP gun cleanly from his pocket and directed it between Pete's eyes. "I don't care who I use this on, Pete. Give me the girl."
Pete's breath was heavy behind her. He seemed to stew on this for several seconds. "She's all yours," he muttered, and Dot knew he was thinking of Wakko. He dropped her to the floor at Rocky's feet.
Mugsy, who'd been silent since the fist to his face, made a gurgling noise in his throat. His mouth was warped into what might have been a smile, and he extended his bent arms to Rocky, yearning for a hug. But Rocky's lip curled as he looked up at him, radiating disgust. He pushed him away with the tip of his DIP gun. "Grab the girl, Mugsy," he ordered.
Still smiling, he scooped Dot up in his arms. She kicked and struggled but he would not release her. He was gentle, but firm. Skippy disappeared behind his bulk and Dot could not see him as Rocky led them down the corridor. The effort to shout hateful things at him was lost, because Dot finally realized that her throat was completely dry. Her heart was beating frantically, like a small bird, as the reality of the situation began to settle around her. She was alone this time. With Rocky.
He parted the double doors, but for once he faltered. In the dim light Dot could recognize the backstage of the main theater, and it was teeming with frantic toons.
"What the…" Rocky murmured, but then shook his head. He picked up his pace slightly and wound his way around the chaos and to the main stage. It was quiet there. The curtains were drawn, blocking where the audience would sit, but with the flip of a switch Rocky illuminated the stage. Blinking, Dot gasped at what she saw. After all those years of Yakko watching Bugs Bunny cartoons, she would have recognized it anywhere. The stage was set up as an exact replica of the stage from the High-Diving Hare episode. In the dead center of the stage was a towering ladder leading up to the diving board. Below it was the laughably tiny diving pool filled with water.
"Let's go," Rocky said. Still grinning, Mugsy nodded and slung Dot over his shoulder to ascend the ladder. Dot was forced to look down as they climbed, bringing her face to face with Rocky as he followed them.
"What is this?" she snarled, glad to have found her voice. "You a thespian now or something?"
"Just shut yer mouth."
"You can't tell me what to do, murderer!"
She blinked, surprised and a little frightened that the words had spilled from her mouth.
"Wanna bet?" His voice was cold and hard.
Mugsy had reached the top of the ladder. They were so dizzingly high that Dot could only think of the tower. Hoisting himself over the final rung, Rocky dusted off his pants and straightened his hat. "Put her down."
Mugsy nodded and placed Dot primly on the edge of the board. She made a quick move to curl her legs beneath her, to jump, but Rocky had his DIP gun out before she could even think of squashing. "Jump and you get DIPped, capice? If you remember yer friend Yosemite, then you'll remember I got good aim."
He gestured to their surroundings with the gun. "Now, in a few minutes, you're going to be the main attraction in a little show we're about to put on. The Big Boss has been looking forward to this for a long time, so you'd better not screw up. You are going to wait here, so he'll see you, and so he'll he see that I was the one who brought you here. I'm not losing again. Not this time. You're a hot commodity you little Warner brat – you were a hard one to come by, and I want my reward, see? I've earned it. So just do as you're told and no one gets hurt – "
"Rocky!"
The three of them whipped around to see Minerva sprinting onto the stage. Her hair flew about her face, sticking to the sweaty parts on her forehead, until she came to a stop by the diving pool. Her eyes gleamed as she stared up at them. "Rocky, baby, why'd you go so fast? I've missed you…don't you want to give me a proper hello?"
"Hello," Rocky said shortly.
Dot's eyes flicked between the two of them as an awkward silence stretched out for several uncomfortable moments. Finally, Minerva jerked out one of her hands. "That's it? 'Hello?'"
"That's what you asked for, wasn't it?"
"Baby, I – I," she stuttered, "I wrote you all those letters while you were in prison, I offed Slappy, just like you asked…I broke you out of prison, I gave you the Warner dit it idea, the one that made everything work…and damn it, all I get is hello?"
"Flowers would've been nice," Dot added dryly.
Rocky twitched irritably in her direction before turning back to Minerva. "And do we have all three Warners? No. So you didn't do the job like I asked. You left me all the dirty work, see. You want a pat on the back for that?"
A moment's worth of hurt flickered across her face before it was replaced by stunned outrage. "You…you…you pathetic little slimeball! All that talk of us moving to a house in Malibu – you said you loved me, you short little pipsqueak! Was that just another one of your lies?"
"About time you figured that out," Rocky spat.
Dot braced herself, preparing for an explosion. Probably one with lots of yelling and dynamite involved. Instead, Minerva simply smirked. Then she withdrew her DIP gun. Snarling, Rocky pulled out his own, aiming straight for her chest. But Minerva pointed hers at the diving pool and pulled the trigger. DIP splashed into the water, swirling and bubbling.
"What are you doing?" Rocky roared, making both Dot and Mugsy jump.
"You ruined my plans," Minerva spat, "so I'm ruining yours."
Growling, Rocky fired. Minerva screamed as she scrambled away from the stream of DIP. The gun recoiled, sending droplets of DIP into the air. And then Dot felt it – a horrible, burning sensation on her forearm. It was as through had placed a hot poker against her skin. She cried out in pain, straining in Mugsy's grasp, pulling back the sleeve of her jacket. A quarter-sized patch of fur was missing, burnt away, revealing hot, pink skin.
Rocky looked from her to Minerva. "Now look what ya made me do, ya dumb broad! Wait 'til the Big Boss heres about this. Mugsy, put her down and grab me that stupid mink. Mugsy?"
Mugsy had not moved. Pulling her eyes from her arm to his face, Dot saw that he was staring at Rocky with a solid, intense expression, one that was more cogent and aware than she'd seen yet. The blind adoration for Rocky was gone. Dot blinked. Was it because Rocky had just hurt her? It couldn't be…
With unexpected gentleness, Mugsy placed her down on the board.
"Good, now go down there and get…" Rocky paused, "Mugsy, what are you…Mugsy…Mugsy!"
Dot gasped. Mugsy had lunged forward, grasping Rocky by the shoulders and lifting him in the air. Rocky's feet kicked pointlessly beneath him. With slow, methodical steps, Mugsy walked to the edge of the high-dive.
"Mugsy, what the hell are you doing?" Rocky screeched, his voice strangely shrill. "Mugsy! MUGSY!"
"Mugsy, don't!" Dot cried.
Mugsy stepped purposely off the high-dive. Minerva screamed as he and Rocky plummeted through the air, but Rocky's own scream was cut short as they landed in the pool with a tremendous splash. Dot threw her hands over her eyes and tried to tune out the hissing and spitting of the DIP. Finally, when all was quiet, she opened them.
A few lingering waves rippled through the DIP water until all was still. Mugsy and Rocky were nowhere to be seen.
Wakko's breath was coming in gasps as he sprinted through the maze of soundstages. Find help, find help, find help, repeated his useless brain. But where? From who? The only toons he'd seen were weasels, and it was all he could do to scurry away from them before he was caught. Dot and Skippy – and who knows who else – were relying on him, and here he was: failing. Again.
He'd rounded the corner by Stage 23 when a car darted out of the alley. Wakko threw himself to the side, narrowly missing being clobbered by the passenger side tire, and rolled when he hit the ground.
"Well well well, runnin' around in yer natural habitat again, huh?"
Wakko scrambled to his feet, his stomach dropping at the sound of the voice. "Pete," he gasped, trying to sound tough while barely being able to breathe. He didn't think it worked.
"Well done, numskull, I oughta give ya a gold star," Pete drawled. "Now listen here, I've been wantin' to introduce ya to someone. Hey shrink, come over here and meet the cute little kid?"
Shrink? Wakko frowned as a toon stepped out of the car and shuffled to Pete's side. It was yet another weasel…except…no, it couldn't be…
Wakko squinted at him, his heart beating faster. There was something familiar about the weasel's beady eyes. And it was wearing an impossibly thick pair of glasses that reminded Wakko of home so palpably that he could taste it –
"Scratchy?" he blurted, horrorstruck.
"Why, you're on a roll there, kid! And here I was under the impression that you was the stupid one. Goes to show ya, don't it?" Pete said.
But Wakko barely heard what Pete said over the noise of his own horror mixing with hatred churning up past his ears. The weasel – or Scratchensniff, rather – was hissing at him with bits of saliva dripping from his jaw. All the warmth and exasperation and good humor that the doctor had previously bestowed on him was gone.
Before he had time to process this, Pete leaned on the police car, causing it to groan and sag under his weight. "Sic 'em, doc," he said.
Narrowing his tiny eyes, Scratchensniff hurled himself at Wakko. He yelped and dove out of the way. His feet found the ground beneath him and he was running, darting between the soundstage alleys. Scratchensniff bounded after him with more speed and agility than he had ever displayed in his regular form. Casting a frightened look over his shoulder, Wakko locked eyes with his friend. If he looked hard enough, he could still see Scratchensniff there, deep down.
"Scratchy, stop, it's me, Wakko!"
Scratchensniff hissed and leapt for him again; Wakko ducked out of the way.
"We worked together! You taught me and my brother and sister – "
Another hiss. Another swipe of the claws. Wakko stumbled over a pile of props that were stacked behind one of the stages. His back was against the wall. He was trapped.
"I lived at your house, remember? You made me feel better after I lost Yakko and Dot, you showed me how to not lose my socks in the dryer, you taught me how to drive…remember? In the car?"
Scratchensniff, whose claws were spread and poised to strike, blinked at him. His eyes seemed clearer, as if he was thinking.
Chewing his lip, Wakko continued, "I've known you since I was a kid, we were on Animaniacs together…we drove you nuts, but we always secretly liked you, even Yakko did. You were our favorite…that's why we teased you so much." He thought of how awful he'd been to Yakko and Dot in the past. "You're always mean to the ones you like."
Scratchensniff tilted his head. He lowered his claws and stepped forward. Tensing, Wakko scooted backward, and his shoulder bumped against a rather strange looking prop. His eyes flicked to it for a second, but then he returned his gaze to Scratchensniff, who was now sniffing him.
"Weird…" Wakko muttered, "brings a new meaning to Scratchensniff I guess."
Scratchensniff blinked at him again. There was the undeniable undercurrent of recognition swimming in his eyes, something Wakko had never seen in the weasels before. "Wak?" he barked, his voice warped by his transformed vocal chords.
A grin spread across Wakko's face. "Scratchy!"
An engine revved, and the police car sped around the corner. The headlights threw his and Scratchensniff's shadows arching up the wall behind them. Pete lumbered out of the car, looking annoyed. "What the hell is taking so long, rodent? Grab the twerp and let's go!"
Scratchensniff merely looked at him. Frowning at the rebuff, Pete took an aggressive step forward. "Did you hear me, or are you even dumber than you look? I said: grab. The kid."
But by this point Scratchensniff was actually wagging his tail happily, like a Labrador, and if Wakko wasn't so frightened he'd be temped to laugh. Gulping, he glanced down at the prop again, and his heart jumped: it was a plot hole. A toon plot hole.
Pete let out a snarl of rage, making Wakko jump. The bigger toon was marching toward him now, arms outstretched. Scratchensniff let out a whimper; Wakko looked to him, then to the plot hole. Whether it was from Scratchensniff's own natural intelligence or the weasel in him had made him extra crazy, he seemed to understand what Wakko was thinking. Just as Pete lurched forward to wrap his hands around their throats, Scratchensniff threw himself at Pete's feet. Pete let out a comical wail of surprise as he stumbled; without hesitating, Wakko made a toon leap into the air while pulling out his mallet. He swung down with all the strength he had and landed a hit square on Pete's rear end. The yelp of pain was muffled as Pete flew straight into the plot hole, only to have his own gut stop him halfway through. Only Pete's feet were visible as he kicked and struggled, wedged firmly in the hole.
Letting out a whoop of triumph, Wakko wrapped his arms around Scratchensniff, who wagged his tail ever harder. "That was faboo, Scratchy!"
He pulled back, staring at Scratchensniff's odd, weasel face. Up close he finally noticed the bald spot gleaming at the top of his head.
"Well…" Wakko said slowly, "Dot told me to find help. And you helped me just now…so I guess you count."
He glanced at the police car behind them. With a grin, he reached into Pete's pocket and pulled out his ring of keys. Sticking his tongue out, Wakko patted him on the backside. "Thanks for letting me borrow the car, Pete!"
Pete's voice was too muffled for Wakko to make out what was most likely swear words.
He couldn't hear his own voice above the din. Ricocheting from toon to toon like a pinball, Yakko stumbled into a corner next to another toon. Whoever it was was trying to wrestle away a weasel – no, not just a weasel, a weasel with a DIP gun. Thinking fast, Yakko pointed beyond the weasel's shoulder and shouted, "Better watch it mac, the Big Boss is behind you!"
Its face twitched with fear as it turned around. This one falter was all the other toon needed: he all but malleted him from the theater straight to San Francisco. Yakko barely caught a glimpse of the weasel sailing over the crowd of toons before he turned to the other toon.
"Way to go Babe Ruth, that was a – oh my god!"
"Yakko!"
"Buster!"
There he was, Buster, standing right in front of him after all those weeks. He looked thinner, maybe older too. Ink was running from a pair of scratches on his face and he had his fair share of bumps and bruises but it didn't matter, it was still his friend. Buster was the first to get over his shock. Lurching forward, he squeezed Yakko in a crushing hug. Giddiness bubbled up inside Yakko and for a moment he might as well have been thirteen again.
"Dude, Warner, I can't believe – everyone thought you were…dude, you're alive! You look like shit, but you're alive!"
"Yes, thank you, Ears."
"What happened to you man? Are you okay? What the hell happened? You just disappeared! Wait, have you seen Babs?"
His heart skipped a beat. "I – yes, she's okay, she's here."
Buster's eyes nearly sprang out of his head. He clutched Yakko by the shoulders. "Are you serious? Where is she? What happened?"
"We got caught by Bosko and company, they've got a prison camp down in Tijuana – " Buster muttered an impressive swear under his breath " – where they've been making all these weasels. From other toons. Babs and I, we escaped, but – "
"But what? Is she hurt? Is she alright?"
"No, she's fine, we just got split up in this mess. But I, uh…"
"What? What is it?"
His friend's eyes were practically the size of tennis balls. He was bleeding, pale, beat up and tired, but to Yakko he'd never looked better. The sight of his friend was like having all his own aches and pains lifted…only to have a new set, the one that had been clawing at him ever since he'd touched Babs' hand on the balcony, settle into his chest. There was no getting around it. He couldn't lie, not to his best friend's face. Not again.
"Buster, I…I kissed Babs."
In spite of all the chaos, Buster suddenly emanated a chilling stillness. He simply stared at Yakko, who was holding his back rigidly straight, eyeing Buster cautiously.
Succumbing yet again to the urge to talk when he probably should not, Yakko babbled, "I'm sorry, but you've got to understand we were really under a lot of stress – it's kind of hard to explain actually, but an unusual amount of people want to kill me…you do too now, probably…look, you can hit me if you want – "
Yakko's blathering was cut short by Buster's fist connecting with his nose. It connected with a solid thwack, and Yakko staggered backwards into the wall. He blinked at Buster, preparing to defend himself, but Buster only blinked back, his face twisted with outrage, his fist still raised. It wasn't even that hard of a punch, it was just the shock of it all.
Buster was breathing heavily through his nostrils. "Sorry," he grunted.
Yakko touched his nose gingerly. "Eeehhhh, it's okay, I had it coming."
"You're damn right you did!"
"Well you haven't exactly been the picture of perfection yourself!"
Buster lurched forward and Yakko prepared to fend off another blow. But Buster's fist fell limply to his side, and the anger on his face seemed to crumple off and reveal a thoroughly depleted one instead. The suddenness of the change nearly startled Yakko as much as the wail that accompanied it. "You know what? You should've just let that weasel DIP me, that's what you should've done! You come all the way back here just to stop the one thing that would've fixed everything! I'm a mess, Yak, I'm worthless, and you know it!"
Gaping at him, Yakko stuttered, "W-whoa, Buster, what are you talking about?"
"Look at me! I used to be famous! I was a star! And now what? An alcoholic nobody with a girlfriend who ditches him for his friend? Look at this, look at what's happening! We'll be dead before the sun comes up. And I couldn't keep a bunch of kids away those idiots…if someone just DIPped me, they could redraw me, you know? They could redraw me and I'd stay like this, this age, forever, before I grow up into even more of a loser – "
Now it was Yakko grabbing him by the shoulders as though he could keep him from falling apart. "Buster, listen to me. Pull yourself together, alright? You've had some bad ideas – that one involving the company car and the pineapples springs to mind – but I gotta admit buddy, this one tops them all. No one's DIPping anybody, you understand? I don't know what's been going on with you but you're not worthless – you're my friend. Right?"
Buster lifted his eyes and Yakko recognized the uncertainty in them. He realized that there was no going back from what he'd done.
He cleared his throat, trying to heave away the dry lump that seemed to settle itself there. "Besides," he croaked, "now isn't exactly the best time to have a mental meltdown. We need to find Babs – "
One of Buster's blue ears flicked. Something seemed to click into place. "Wakko and Dot are here."
There was an odd ringing in his ears as Yakko demanded in a steady voice, "Where."
"One of the garages I think. Pete and Minerva have them. I got away before Pete could drag me there. I can go after Babs if you can look for them."
If this was a diversion to keep him away from Babs, Yakko did not care. "Done. Which garage?"
"Looked like the west one."
"Alright – hey, be careful, alright Ears? Don't do…don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"That leaves a lot less gaps than it used to," Buster said dryly.
Yakko quirked an eyebrow at him, to which Buster nodded curtly. They dashed off in opposite directions, and he ducked and dodged between the legs and shoulders of other and to the back door. Free of the herd of toons, he barreled toward the west garage at a dead sprint. Please let them be there, he'd give anything, everything, for them to be there, safe and unharmed –
He rounded a tight corner and bolted through an alleyway. All the shortcuts were as familiar to him as though he'd crossed them yesterday. The garage was barely a block away, he was so close he could nearly see over the sound stages –
A dark mass darted out from the shadows which he instantly recognized as a weasel, and he would have tripped had he not been so practiced at avoiding them. Instead he dove out of its way, rolled, and sprang to his feet. This would have been quite successful had he not found his back against a wall with a half dozen weasels closing in on him.
"War!" one of them shrieked, jabbing a pointy claw at him, "War! War!"
"No no, War-ner," Yakko corrected. If he'd doubted that Bosko had sent his legions after him specifically, those doubts were erased now. "Try it again, from the top."
But the weasels merely foamed at him, creeping closer and closer by the second. Yakko's mind reeled – he was losing space to manipulate around in, and there were so many of them. Yet at the same time he didn't want to hurt them. They could be anybody, after all. Hampton...Sylvester…he couldn't live with himself if he harmed someone he knew. But his siblings, they were so close, and he was so trapped –
Blue and red lights flickered against the wall in the second before the sound of squealing tires split the air. A police car, having just skidded around the corner, was careening straight for him.