DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything from Tiny Toon Adventures, including characters, locations, references, or the Acme Warner Bros. logo. All rights go to Warner Bros. and Steven Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment.
It's been a long, amazing journey to write this story. But I'm finally finished.
The final chapter will be posted on January 1st.
Chapter 46
Comfort and Joy
~Dec. 24th~
Small and gentle, the snow drifted down to earth. Above the Acme Loo clock tower, a singular patch of clouds cleared away from the surrounding dark mass, revealing the otherwise cloaked stars. They resembled the snow yet never moved nor melted, eternally bound by the black veil which contained them forever.
It truly was a glorious thing to see, and on Christmas Eve no less. There was no wind to mar the sight or to addle the snow's decent. All was peaceful, there was no scurry of footsteps through the school grounds, nor any voices passing through the school walls.
It was a glowing, silent scene of white, and Hamton, sitting on a bench, was one of the two lone witnesses.
He didn't mind the cold at all, not now. The beautiful blue and white gloves that hugged against his otherwise bare hands made a remarkable difference in the view of winter. He stared down at them, brand new and soft. They were a simple gift, a mere three-dollars of wool, thread, and tag. But within these threads and the warmth they gave, there was something more, unseen but felt.
Furrball, who was poor with hardly anything to call his own, gave Hamton this small gift out of the goodness of himself. It was the act and the thought which made this gift more than just a pair of gloves.
But . . . despite how much Hamton loved these gloves and how good his hands felt wearing them, he couldn't bring himself to feel happy.
He bowed his head, feeling ashamed. To think, beyond the wall at his back, people were celebrating the holiday, the joy and the spirit that comes once every year. His friends were in there, happy and together, and he wasn't with them.
But . . . that was his own fault, he told himself. He chose to walk out.
He knew what the solution was. Just stand up and go in — join the group and be part of the joy. But could he? His heart seemed to weigh himself to the bench.
Again, his own fault.
He had failed; He couldn't stop thinking it. A whole month of work, days and nights spent raising money, hoping it would, in return, lead to the one gift he wanted more than any other in this world. But all he could give were his words: an apology, an explanation, a confession.
What will Fifi think when she reads the words Hamton wrote above his signature? He found, to his surprise, that he wasn't worried in the slightest. Those words had been held inside for so long that to keep them in for another day after his failure was more than Hamton's heart could accept. It was with a pounding pain that he had to admit it on the day he dreamed of since the beginning of this December. He felt both scared and relieved, wondering and dreading what would happen next.
But Fifi will, at least, finally know the truth.
But would she understand?
Hamton folded his gloved hands together, interlocking his fingers as he glanced up to the sky. The stars were spread out overhead in the one open clearing, mixed with the falling white flakes.
"Please. . ." he whispered. "Please, let her understand. . . ."
Fifi moved one step at a time around the school, the soft, white snow giving no crackle beneath. Holding the letter gently in her hand, she glanced upward to the sky. Beyond the clumped gray mass, the clouds separated in a single spot to show the stars, white as the snowflakes drifting down to earth.
Fifi stopped just as she reached the school's corner, still gazing to the stars on this snowy night. She felt her heart beating against the letter in her hand, pressed to her chest.
She opened it, taking it all in again. Even as the snow fell gently upon it, Fifi found its effect as profound out here as she did in the school.
She felt neither the cold of winter nor the little crystals melting atop her periwinkle hair.
Again, she read the message above the signature, and took a whole moment just to adore it.
"With all the love in my heart"
She closed the letter and read the four words on the outside.
TO: Fifi
FROM: Hamton
Fifi's violet eyes glimmered as a smile formed. Something other than snow clung to her white cheeks.
The thing she held in her hands was so ordinary, just paper and ink, and yet it was, by far, more precious than anything anyone could buy . . . because only one kind of person could give it.
Though Fifi had been stunned by all the money she was offered when she opened the gift, she would gladly leave it all behind in place of this letter. All the money together seemed so much less than what this message made her feel, more than any heart-shaped bottle of perfume could hope to express.
It had been written for her — just for her.
That fact wrapped around Fifi, bringing a different sort of warmth, all the way from her front to her fluffy tail. A familiar sensation she dreamed of many times before coursed through her like drink, and she wanted to savor every trace.
She didn't know what she would say to Hamton, didn't know how she would explain herself as he had so beautifully in his letter. Nevertheless, Fifi knew she had to go forward. She was already here. She was determined. And most of all, she wanted to.
She inhaled and let out a slow, deep breath, watching a few snowflakes melt against her hands, still holding the letter which remained remarkably dry and clean.
She then took a step forward and glanced around the corner.
There, sitting alone on a bench near a snow-covered tree, was Hamton, glancing up at the few stars overhead.
Fifi, her heart more certain than it had been all month, made her way towards him. And, in that precise instant, the clock tower chimed 6:00. The party inside had begun.
The bell rang loud and clear, all across the snowy school grounds and into the city. Each ring muffled all other sound, including Fifi's footsteps as she approached the bench. Her heartbeat, like the ringing bell, became more noticeable the closer she got, as though it were trying to break free and rush forward.
On the sixth and final ring, Fifi was close enough to the bench that she could reach out and touch it. Hamton still hadn't noticed her; he was now staring at the school wall, his eyes roaming up and down the Christmas lights.
The snow fell quietly on the two.
The top of Hamton's smooth head started to feel wet. He raised his coat sleeve to wipe away the moisture. When he brought it down, he detected the rare color of purple and turned.
Fifi was standing at the bench's arm.
"Hello, Hamton," she said, her voice soft.
"Hi, Fifi. . ." he said just as delicately. His sight dropped to the letter in Fifi's hand. Feeling that familiar warmth flood his face, Hamton turned to look down at his intertwined gloves.
Fifi watched him for a moment, then sat down next to him on the bench.
Neither of them spoke. They just sat, their hearts beating as the snow fell around them.
Both were staring at different places. Hamton looked at his folded, gloved hands and, every so often when he thought the time was right, would shoot a brief glance at Fifi.
"I love ze lights," she said, pointing at the wall. "Are zey ze ones you helped set up?"
"Yeah. . ." said Hamton, and he pulled his joined hands apart and rested them on his lap. He felt surprisingly awkward talking about something so simple. "But," he added, "a lot of the work goes to Concord, Sweetie, and Calamity. I just sort of helped move them around to the right spot."
"Still," said Fifi, smiling. "You helped make ze school beautiful."
A few moments passed with them just watching the lights around the walls, stretching and disappearing on the corner.
"You have done a lot zis December," Fifi stated, staring at the lights with great fondness.
"Yeah. . ."
There was no sound anywhere: not the faintest tread of car tires nor the smallest breath of wind against the brick walls. It gave the snow-covered grounds a very still feeling, as though the whole world was frozen in place.
"You . . . you look very nice, Fifi," said Hamton, feeling stupid for saying it so timidly.
"Merci," said Fifi quietly. "As do you. I really like your gloves."
"Thanks," said Hamton, tracing his fingers atop the palm. "Furrball gave them to me."
"Zat was sweet of him." She moved a little closer. When she spoke next, her voice was full of compassion, "You have done so much for him. And he is so thankful. You are a true friend to him."
Hamton smiled sadly. "He's a true friend too. He's great company and I never could've raised —"
He broke off. Quickly, he looked up at Fifi, who was eyeing at him tenderly, almost pityingly.
He looked away. His hands pressed against the cold wood of the bench.
A moment later, Fifi placed her warm, purple furred hand onto his.
A bright flowery field seemed to bloom inside Hamton's center. But then it stopped abruptly, withering by the reminder in his mind.
"I'm sorry, Fifi," he said wearily.
"Pardon?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," he said more clearly, shutting his eyes. "I got so close. I almost had it. But I . . . I missed it."
Fifi still didn't take her hand off of his. Even through his gloves, Hamton could feel the wonderful velvety texture of her fur.
"Hamton," she whispered. "Please, look at me."
Swallowing, he obeyed.
Fifi didn't look angry or disappointed. Quite the contrary; she looked her usual happy self — though perhaps a little subdued.
"Thank you for your gift," she said gently.
Hamton stared at her, confused, but even more so by the fact that the violet eyes held tears.
"Fifi?"
"Thank you for your gift," she repeated, and a tear flowed down her cheek.
Hamton looked from her letter to the white paper bag he only just realized she had at her side. He couldn't see the money anywhere.
"Uh . . . did you leave it all inside?" he asked.
"No," she said. "I have it right here."
She held up the letter.
"It is ze most wonderful thing I have ever gotten," said Fifi, wiping her eyes with her scarf. "It is exactly what I wanted. Thank you. . . ."
Hamton's mouth was agape. Fifi giggled.
"But . . . but Fifi," he said. "You said . . . didn't you say you wanted Du Coeur?"
Fifi's smile fell.
"Oui . . . I did," she said remorsefully. "I just never imagined anyone would go to ze trouble of trying to buy it for me. It was mostly a joke, really." Mournfully, she patted Hamton's hand. "I am sorry, Hamton, for you going so far to get it. I never meant for you to do all zat."
"You didn't make me do anything," said Hamton, angry with himself. "I chose to do all that work, and look what happened. I got myself blown up by Monty, both literally and figuratively."
He attempted a small laugh. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "About that day at Monty's, I mean. I only did it because —"
"I know," said Fifi, taking her hand away and clasping it between her other. "Zat only makes me feel more sorry."
"Why, though?"
"Because of how I yelled at you," she answered weakly. "You went through all of zat for me, and I scolded you."
"Well. . ." Hamton said, smiling lightly, "I didn't do a very good job explaining myself." Sighing, he went on, "I really should've just told you. It would've made things a lot less awkward."
"Oui," sighed Fifi, "but since when has affection ever not been awkward?"
Hamton blushed. Fifi did too, though she was still frowning. Even in her sadness, Hamton thought her beautiful.
"Still. . ." he said. "If I had just pushed myself and told you, things could've been much easier." He cringed with guilt. "I was too much of a wimp. I was afraid you wouldn't accept me, because I knew you really wanted a skunk as your boyfriend."
Fifi frowned, her own guilt writhing at her center.
"I thought," Hamton continued, "by getting you the Du Coeur, you'd see me as good as any skunk. Stupid me . . ." he added, shaking his head. "I'm sorry for being so stupid, Fifi. When it comes down to it, the only thing that was in my way . . . was me."
He let out a dry scoff. The truth, though harsh, did have some humor to it.
"Hamton. . ." she said. "You have nothing to be sorry about. If anything, it is I who should apologize."
"For what?" he asked, bewildered.
Fifi shook her head, as though Hamton's modesty were amusing.
"You are very selfless, Hamton," she said. "Zat is one of ze many things to admire about you."
Hamton could not help blushing, in spite how confused he felt. "But you're selfless, too. You're not greedy like Monty is."
"Maybe not, but I had expectations. Foolish expectations," she said, scolding herself. "For so many years, I wasted my time, looking for a boyfriend, zat perfect 'skunk-hunk'." She said the last two words with disgust.
"You were looking for love," Hamton said reasonably. "That's not time wasted."
"It is when you limit yourself!" she retorted. "And I did just zat, Hamton."
She looked up from her hands and stared mournfully at the school wall, the Christmas lights reflecting off her damp eyes.
"I would like to theenk I have a lot of love to share. I wanted nothing more zan to find my someone, zat special boy who I could be with and know he loves me back. But . . . as our date proved, my . . . leettle problem often got in ze way."
"You mean your smell?" he asked. She nodded. "That's not your fault. All skunks have that, Fifi. That's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Oui," she said. "I am not ashamed to be a skunk. I have always been happy with ze way I am. But . . . it made my quest for love quite ze fool's errand. I drove more boys away from my arms zan towards zem, and not merely because I stink. When we performed for Tiny Toon Adventures, it was, how you say, ze usual running gag? No boys would come my way."
Fifi gave a pained smile.
"All except you," she said quietly. "You . . . ze boy who asked me out to ze Prom when no other would even look at me."
"I was happy to do it," said Hamton, remembering the wonderful memory. "You were the only girl I wanted to ask, Fifi. It took a while, though, because —"
"You were shy," Fifi finished with a giggle. "Oui. I remember your blushing. You are quite adorable when you blush. But you came through in ze end." She paused, beaming warmly at him. "Zat is another wonderful thing about you. You are brave when you need to be. But," she frowned, "whereas you were shy, I was reluctant. I did not bozher to look for a date, because zhere was no skunk but me among ze school."
Fifi closed her eyes and shook her head, as though she were being accused of something very childish.
"I was stupid. I was stupid because I refused to believe zat any boy, ozher zan a skunk, would bozher to talk to me when I stink. If not for you, Hamton, I would not have had a date for ze Prom, because I did not bozher to take a risk with other boys, to give love a chance outside of my expectations."
A tear slid down her cheek and landed on the ground, completely vanishing in the snow.
Feeling no fear at all, Hamton interlocked his fingers with hers. To his relief, her face calmed considerably.
"And so, zhere you are, Hamton," Fifi sighed. Then, quite unexpectedly, she chuckled, "I guess me playing ze role of Carmen at ze Talent Show was very fitting after all. Me, playing ze gypsy who sings about ze fickleness of love, when, in truth, she is ze one who is fickle: treating love like a trinket, only to move on to anozher when she becomes bored of it. So fickle. . . ."
"You sing beautifully, though," said Hamton determinedly. "And you are not fickle!"
Fifi shook her head, smiling. "Selfless, cute, brave, and undyingly kind. It is no mystery why you are so well liked, Hamton. You truly are one of a kind."
Hamton blushed.
They stayed like that for a while, hand in hand, Hamton with his gaze on the snow, and Fifi smiling fondly.
To try and break the silence, Hamton asked, "Uh, question, Fifi."
"Hmm?"
Feeling slightly foolish, but curious, he asked, "Do you even know what Du Coeur smells like?"
Fifi smirked. "Oh, mon cher garçon (my dearest boy), I have no clue at all."
A pause, and then both started to laugh.
"Makes you wonder why anyone would want it," Hamton chuckled.
"True," said Fifi, shaking her head in amusement. "Odds are, it may smell as bad as I do. It was mostly ze story of ze lovers zat drew me to it. A fascinating object, but nothing else."
The blunt swelling from inside their stomachs had lessened. Hamton no longer felt ashamed at his failure. How could he, as he sat there on the bench, next to the most wonderful girl he knew? No perfume could do that.
And Fifi no longer felt hesitant, not with Hamton so close to her. After all her searching and dreaming, the dream had become real; perhaps had been real all along.
There was only one thing left to do.
She stood up from the bench, her beautiful red and green dress vibrant against the surrounding snow.
"Hamton," she said. "Please, stand up. I want to give you your Christmas gift."
She picked up the white bag.
Taking a deep breath, Hamton stood. His red and green sweater also stood out against the white fluff.
Holding the letter and the bag in her right hand, Fifi held out her left. "Give me your hand."
Hamton raised it and brought it forth, his blue and white gloved fingers in her soft, purple ones.
"Now. . ." said Fifi, her hand tightening on the paper bag, "close your eyes."
And Hamton did, slowly, watching Fifi's beautiful face disappear until he saw black, where its outline remained.
The whole world stood still — the snow gently falling atop his head.
He heard a paper bag fall to the ground.
Hamton's eyes shot open. Fifi's pink nose was right next to his . . . her eyelashes right against his cheek . . . and her lips atop his.
She pulled away and opened her violet eyes.
Hamton stood there, unblinking. Everything around him now looked fifty times more beautiful, while, inside, a series of bright explosions and warm waves washed over him as an angelic choir sang out in triumphant exaltation.
"Merry Christmas . . . mon amor," said Fifi gently.
"You too," said Hamton breathlessly.
And without further hesitation, they kissed, wrapped in each other's arms.
The world was gone. In its place were Hamton Pig and Fifi La Fume, lost in each other, beyond the euphoria of a dazzling dream. The stars fell softly, faded, and fell softly some more, gracing the two in their light as they shared the gift they had wished for.
Their faces pulled apart, but they held onto each other. For Hamton, it was looking into a beautiful dream. For Fifi, it was a dream made real.
Both turned towards the school. The snow was still falling around it, as though caught in a snow globe.
"Shall we go?" asked Fifi. She honestly wouldn't have minded standing here, kissing Hamton all night.
"Sure," said Hamton. "Let's go see our friends."
Hand in hand, they walked back the way they had come.
When they entered the empty school hall, Fifi handed over the paper bag she had taken with her.
"Chocolate heart?" she asked. "I have all I need right here," she held up the letter, "and here," she held up his hand.
Smiling shyly, Hamton said, "I'm perfectly happy with what I have already." He gave her hand a little squeeze. "But . . . chocolate is always welcome."
Fifi giggled. "I agree."
The gym was full now. Over in the corner by the snack tables, Sylvester was dishing out eggnog to Speedy Gonzolas. Yosemite Sam was dressed in a white cowboy suit with a wreath around his outrageously large hat. Granny was knitting Christmas sweaters in mere seconds using her new Acme Knitting Needles, given to her by Tweety Bird. Pete Puma and Porky Pig sat beside her, wearing newly knitted sweaters while delightfully munching on cookies. Foghorn Leghorn, Road Runner, and Daffy Duck were both laughing at outrageous memories during the Looney Toons saga, all while enjoying sundaes from Frosty's Ice Cream Parlor. Foghorn spoke in his usual loud voice, Road Runner with his usual 'meep-meeps' and Daffy was hardly listening while waiting for the chance to start his turn to blather.
The students, meanwhile, mingled about. Calamity was chasing Little Beeper, though not in the usual aggressive way, but more as a spirited game. Dizzy Devil was trying persistently to spin out of his Christmas sweater, but it proved impossible to shred. Mary Melody stood with Sneezer and Gogo on the platform with their instruments, waiting for the signal from Bugs to start playing. Arnold the Pitbull was trying to saw a slice of a fruitcake with little success. Montana Max was simply standing around one spot, looking important and ignoring Grovely who continued to try and tell him something. Monty, slightly reluctant, allowed Elmyra to stand beside him who stared soppily, stroking her pet rock which was wearing its tiny Santa Hat.
Buster, Babs, Shirley, Plucky, and Furrball, meanwhile, stood beside the punch bowl, looking around for the two missing members of their group.
"Where have they gone?" asked Babs, frowning. "They're going to miss the start."
"Hey, uh, kids?" Bugs Bunny walked up to the group. He was dressed in a sweater with the Warner Bros. logo. "Have Hamton and Fifi shown up yet? I can't delay the introduction any longer."
"They still haven't come back," Buster answered, checking over by the gym doors.
Bugs sighed. "Well, I got to start. It would've been nice to have them here as Mary plays the new song. But . . . oh well. Even in animation, things don't always go as planned."
He walked away towards the stage.
"Bonjour, children," came a familiar French accent, stepping toward them, sipping eggnog from a champagne glass.
"Hi, Professor Le Pew," they said together, Furrball meowing his name.
"Strange," he said. "Normally, your leettle group is ze life of ze party. But. . ." he looked around amongst the teenagers, "where is Hamton and Fifi?"
"You got us," said Plucky, shrugging. "No clue."
"Like, I don't think we should worry," said Shirley. "Something tells me all is totally fine."
"What? Divine intuition?" asked Plucky with a raised eyebrow.
"No, just faith."
There came a familiar hum through the gym speakers as Bugs tapped the microphone. The chatter died down and everyone turned to look towards the front. Calamity and Little Beeper froze and stood together. Granny put aside her needles and stood up to join the rest of the teachers. Mary Melody walked over to the piano bench.
Bugs took a few moments to stare around the crowd, searching, it seemed, for someone in particular. Finally, with a light sigh, he began to speak.
"Welcome, everyone," he said, his voice amplified. "Students, teachers, faculty, and friends. I am very pleased so many have come to celebrate together on this most merry of nights —"
"OH, SKIP THE MUSH!" shouted Monty in a corner. "GET ON WITH IT!"
More than half the people shot the rich boy irritant, reproachful glares. Grovely actually pinched the bridge between his nose and shook his head. But Bugs' calm demeanor remained as steady as ever.
"Yeah. . . . Anyway, before we begin the first song and dance, I would like to offer a few commemorations."
The whole room fell silent with rapt attention. Monty, impatient as always, crossed his arms and focused on the ceiling-high Christmas tree while Grovely made another attempt to whisper something. Monty shrugged him off, his foot tapping.
"Now, I'm not normally one to give speeches," said Bugs, "seeing as they usually come off as cheesy, but this time, I think an exception —"
At that moment, the gym doors opened and Bugs stopped talking. Every eye in the room turned to see who had entered.
It was Hamton and Fifi, smiling and holding hands.
Babs let out a delighted gasp, shooting her hands to her mouth. Her friends, meanwhile, beamed in Hamton's direction.
"Sorry if we are interrupting, Principal Bugs," Fifi called as she and Hamton headed over to join their friends.
But Bugs didn't look the slightest bit offended. Quite the contrary, he looked positively overjoyed that they walked in.
"As I was saying," Bugs said more cheerfully. "I'm not normally one who give speeches, so I think, instead, I will simply give a few words of thanks."
Clearing his throat, he said, "First, I would like to thank Acme Groceries and Frosty's Ice Cream Parlor for catering the food for the party."
The crowd gave a light applause to Remi, who gave a light wave.
"Next, thanks must go to you, our students, for your hard work at the Cartoon Exams. From our results, not a single student received a failing grade."
The teachers gave their happy applause at this.
"Third, I would like to thank Pepe Le Pew and Granny for helping to set up the party, along with the assistance from seven good students."
Hamton and his friends all shared a proud look.
"And lastly," Bugs said, smiling, "I want to give the biggest thanks of all . . . to Hamton Pig."
Hamton froze, taken aback as everyone turned in his direction. Fifi and his friends grinned kindly, the teachers (including Pepe and Pete) stared proudly, and his classmates (minus Monty, of course) all smiled too. It was like being in the center of a very warm spotlight.
"Hamton has been working all month, from helping to decorate the school . . . to giving shelter to a friend . . . to assisting the good people of Acme Acres . . . to even finding Elmyra Duff a pet, if you can all believe it."
"It's true!" shouted Elmyra, holding up her pet rock. "He and Mr. Kitty-Cat found me Rocky! And he hasn't tried running away once!"
"Yes, indeed," said Bugs, chuckling with a roll of his eyes. "In all his endeavors, Hamton has demonstrated the spirit that best suits this time of year: generosity toward the less fortunate, kindness to his fellow citizens, friendship to those closest to him, and undying love in everything he did. And for all this, I applaud him."
And Bugs did. Fifi clapped too, then Furrball, then his friends, then all the teachers and students. The gym was full of the sound of appreciation, and Hamton, feeling overwhelmed, could only smile. And when it was quiet, he found Fifi's hand in his once more.
"Thank you, everyone," said Bugs appreciatively. "And now, let's start this celebration with a song. Mary?"
Everyone clapped as Mary stood up and approached the microphone.
"Before we begin," she said, "I would like to say two things. One, I dedicate this song to two very special hearts."
Distinctly, Hamton saw Mary look in his and Fifi's direction.
"Second, I wish anyone who has someone special to join in the dance, as, for the first time, I play a new song by Miss Mariah Carey. Don't bother looking it up, though, because it won't be out until the year 2010. In fact, the lyrics won't even be visible for anyone to see or read. Got to keep those copyright laws in mind, you know."
Some people nodded and chuckled, others groaned in agreement.
Mary returned to the piano's bench and curved her fingers over the polished black and white keyboard. Little Sneezer raised his saxophone to his lips and Gogo spun his drumsticks in his hands (actual music drumsticks this time, thank goodness).
The song began steadily with Mary singing solo. From the vibrant tone and lyrics, it was meant as a romantic piece. And as the music played, Hamton found himself with Fifi's hand on his shoulder and his hand on her waist. Staring into her eyes, Hamton's world seemed to shrink, in which only he and Fifi existed. He was hardly aware of what he was doing, and yet he seemed to know where to go and what to do as he and Fifi stepped with the music, going with the tune which grew more lively with the addition of Sneezer's sax and Gogo's beat.
The people around cleared a space as more people stepped in to this lively song. Babs exploded with energy while Buster, though active, danced a bit more calmly. Plucky and Shirley were close by, with the latter using her powers to lift herself and Plucky an inch off the ground so that they were literally dancing on air. Even Furrball, to whom a few friendly laughs were given, found a partner in Granny, who, despite her age, was able to dance quite stylishly (no doubt due to the Toon in her).
Arnold danced with Arnolda, Daffy danced with a mirror (yeah, he really is that egotistical), and Elmyra blissfully forced Monty into a dance, though the latter continued to stare heatedly in Hamton's direction.
As the song slowed to an end, Hamton was lost in Fifi's embrace; they had moved closer in a few short seconds. Fifi looked totally at peace, as though she would soon fall asleep against Hamton. Hamton embraced her softly, savoring the touch of her silky periwinkle hair against the side of his smooth head.
When the music ended, they pulled back and found themselves the center of those who joined the danced.
"And now," said Mary through the microphone, "time for an old time favorite. A song nobody can copyright because it's been done over so many times already: 'Jingle Bells.'"
Sneezer gave a jazzy start, and Mary began to sing softly.
The crowd went off to separate places, some to get cookies, others to do things like chat or stand in line for some Frosty's ice cream.
Hamton and Fifi walked to the end of a long table and were joined shortly by Buster, Babs, Plucky, Shirley, and Furrball.
"You two really know how to dance," Fifi said, complimenting Plucky and Shirley.
"Shirley does all the work," said Plucky. "I just have my good looks."
"And your ego," said Babs, shaking her head with amusement, "as always."
"Yeah, well, some habits die hard. Or not all. Anyway," Plucky grinned smugly in Hamton's directly, giving a thumbs up, "good job, pal."
"Same here," said Buster, giving Hamton's elbow a light tap. "And congrats to you, Fifi. I hope you're both finally happy."
"Oh, we are," said Fifi, wrapping Hamton in a hug, causing him to blush.
"See, Hamton?" said Babs. "You didn't need that perfume."
"Yeah . . . you were right," said Hamton, now blushing from all the trouble he had gone through. "I guess I went a bit far."
"Like, mondo far," Shirley replied. "But when it's for love, like, nothing is too much."
And from the side, Furrball meowed his agreement, giving Hamton an affectionate pat on the shoulder.
The seven friends spent the whole party together. When they weren't listening to music provided by Mary, Sneezer, and Gogo, they mostly chatted about their plans for Christmas the following day.
"Me and Buster's families are getting together," said Babs, licking a scoop of carrot cake ice cream. "It'll be done at my dad's extra house. Good thing, too. Buster's hole is small and mine's hardly larger, given all my siblings."
"I just hope your dad's in a better mood than the last time I saw him," said Buster, tugging uncomfortably on the collar of his sweater.
"Ah, come on, he'll love you," said Babs, though she sounded slightly anxious. "You did get him that tie I told you about, right?"
"The electric blue one with the small carrots?" Buster double-checked.
"Perfect!" Babs said, beaming. "That, along with the tie clip I got for him, will definitely help him warm up to you."
"Speaking of gifts," said Plucky. "I wonder when we're supposed to have that gift exchange. I wish Bugs would hurry up and announce it."
"Like, chill, Plucky," said Shirley, shaking her head. "The gifts can wait. How 'bout some fruit cake in the meantime?"
"BLEH!" Plucky groaned. "Again with the fruit cake! Honestly, Shirls! Name one person here who likes fruit cake besides you, Hamton and Furrball."
Shirley pointed. "Arnold and Arnolda."
Hamton, sipping some hot cocoa with Furrball and Fifi, turned, and sure enough, Arnold and his look-alike girlfriend, Arnolda, we both feeding each other forkfuls of fruit cake.
Plucky's eyebrows fell. "Okay, I stand corrected. But still, how can anyone eat something so —"
Before Plucky's bill could move again, Shirley stuffed a large piece of her own fruit cake into Plucky's mouth. Surprised, and coughing a bit, he chewed and swallowed hard.
Blinking, he tapped his finger to his bill. "Hmm . . .not quite so terrible."
Smirking, Shirley asked, "Like, like another piece?"
"Sure. . ." Plucky mumbled.
Around the time Plucky had a full slice, Bugs tapped on the microphone and the talking around the gym fell away.
"Okay, everyone," he said. "For those interested, it's time for the Gift Exchange. Anyone who brought gifts, help yourselves in handing them out, and don't be afraid to liter the floor."
Over the next few minutes, the sound of tearing paper and complimentary discussion filled the gym. Plucky wasted no time in shredding right through his gifts, most of which was some kind of marshmallow treat.
"What a sweet set!" he beamed, adoring the s'more pie and the chocolate covered marshmallows Hamton and Shirley had given him. "How'd you all know?"
"You're a marshmallow fanatic, Plucky," Buster said. "Plus, they were written on those fifty-pound lists you gave us."
"Yeah," Babs added, "in bold writing with asterisks at both ends, on almost every single page. And speaking of those lists —" Babs reached into a pocket and extracted an enormous book, the size of dictionary. She threw it and it landed at Plucky's feet.
"You kept that in your pocket all month?" asked Plucky, wide eyed.
"Yeah, we all did," said Buster, and on that cue, everyone except Furrball pulled out the same six-inch thick list, throwing them to Plucky and each hitting the floor with a loud THUMP. "Honestly, we forgot they were there, but next time, Plucky, just stick to a single page, please?"
Plucky sighed lightly. "Fair enough."
Shirley's gifts, among Hamton's lemon macaroons, a collection of incense sticks, and a new deck of tarot cards — all featuring the Classic Looney Toons characters — included a bright new crystal ball, courtesy of Plucky. Shirley's first prediction with it came true within seconds: she giving Plucky a hug and a kiss.
Buster and Babs received nothing but carrot related gifts, including a recipe book from Fifi on over 100,000 ways to prepare carrots.
"This will give us a lot more variety, Babsy," said Buster, flipping through the pages.
"Yeah, like Carrot Ala-King," Babs remarked, looking both fascinated and weirded-out.
Furrball was not left out. After becoming so close to Hamton and his friends over the past month, they all treated him to a wide selection of gifts, including an umbrella and raingear from Buster and Babs, a wallet with twenty dollars in it from Plucky, a hand-knitted sweatshirt from Shirley, and a large, colorful blanket from Fifi. Holding his gifts, he was the happiest cat in Acme Acres.
"You're very welcome, Furrball," said Buster, as Furrball held both him and Babs in a grateful hug.
"Thanks for your gift, too," said Babs, looking at her new pink and white gloves.
Furrball had given each of his friends a pair of gloves like Hamton's, each with respective colors for their owners.
"Oui," said Fifi, admiring and wearing her purple and white striped pair. "Zis style is quite fitting!"
"Hope you like everything you got, Fifi," said Babs, sharing some of Hamton's treats with Buster.
"Oh, oui!" Fifi exclaimed, admiring a pink poinsettia, a new red scarf with white hearts, and a large jar of her favorite scented candle: Romantic Paris.
"What about my gift?" asked Plucky. "Doesn't it just dazzle you?"
"Oh, oui" said Fifi, smirking with a shake of her head. She reached into a box and pulled out a diamond the size of a baseball. When Fifi had first opened Plucky's present, Hamton's jaw dropped. Shirley, who had looked startled, actually growled at Plucky, but then she and the others saw the tag attached.
"Very nice glass," smirked Fifi, holding up the huge, fake gemstone.
"Best flawless paperweight money can buy!" Plucky said proudly. "Well, I guess that's everything. Good haul this year!" he told them all, admiring the mess of wrapping paper that littered the gymnasium floor. "Hope everyone got what they wanted."
"I did," said Fifi, and, with all her opened gifts stacked on the gym floor, she threw her arms around Hamton and kissed his cheek.
"Le sigh..." said Hamton dreamily.
"Hey!" said Fifi, smirking. "Zat is my line!"
"Oh, cut with the mush!" came a nasty, angry voice.
Montana Max stomped his way over. His teeth and fists were clenched.
"Hi, Monty," said Hamton simply. He no longer felt any anger or irritation towards the rich boy, regardless of what he did, not now with Fifi holding his hand.
"What are you smiling for, Pig?" snapped Monty. "Why aren't you feeling bitter and self-centered?"
"Because he's not a selfish Scrooge!" Babs retorted. "Can't you be good even on Christmas, Monty?"
"Who asked you?" he snapped. "Grovely!" he shouted, and the butler came walking over, carrying the large create of Du Coeur. Smirking, Monty pulled from behind his back the bottle of perfume Hamton had once worked so hard to buy. "Doesn't it hurt, Hamton? To know you came so close? To know you couldn't give Fifi what she wanted?"
"He did give me what I wanted, you horrible stooge of greed!" Fifi shouted. "He gave me love, which is more zan you can say for yourself!"
"Love?" sneered Monty. "What would I want with something as stupid and disposable as love? You don't see me running after anyone!"
"Oh, Monty-Wonty!" cried Elmyra, who appeared at his side, smiling and holding mistletoe over his brown hair. "You still haven't gotten your Christmas gift!"
"Not now, cheese head!" he said, pushing her off. "As I was saying." He shook the bottle of Du Coeur in Hamton's and Fifi's faces. "I still beat you in the end! I got the perfume! And what do you have?"
"Everything," Hamton replied simply, his hand in Fifi's and surrounded by his friends.
"Pheh! Whatever," growled Monty. "I'm still the proud owner of the best perfume in the world!"
Grovely cleared his throat. "Um, actually, Master Monty, if you will finally let me speak —"
"WHAT?" Monty shouted, silencing the entire gym. Elmyra nearly fell over backwards. Mary and her band actually cut the most recent song short. "What is it?! You've been bugging me since yesterday! Now, WHAT? What, Grovely?!"
Grovely, completely unaffected by Monty's volume, pulled out a clipboard from his black coat jacket. "I have been trying to tell you, Master Monty, that the sales and requests for the Du Coeur branch have all been, sadly, cancelled and declined."
A stunned silence seemed to fill the gym.
"WHAT?" Swiping the clipboard from Grovely, Monty's frantic eyes scanned a chart with a long, red arrow dropping down below the line for zero.
"I am deeply sorry, sir," said Grovely, his tone rather composed. "After going over your accounting and bookkeeping, I have pulled up some very upsetting numbers. Since you doubled the average, accepted price of Du Coeur worldwide, Shamel has received numerous complaints. And, seeing as you also raised the price on those on who pre-ordered copies of the perfume, all potential customers have pulled their orders. There is not a single person in the world who wishes to buy Du Coeur, not at such a high price. As such, the Shamel board of directors have all come forward and pulled compensation from your branch. The stocks for Du Coeur are completely nil."
"Nil?" squealed Monty. Panicking, he flipped through the clipboard, desperate to find some shred of good news. Judging by his open-mouthed shock, there wasn't any.
"Yes, sir, nil," Grovely clarified, his voice still calm. "And I am afraid the bad news continues. It pains me to say this, Sir," though Grovely's face remained totally placid, "but Shamel is quite angry with your reckless decision. Many of their workers are suffering cutbacks, and, given this time of year, I hardly blame their fuming reaction. Shamel and its board of directors have taken the liberty of drawing from your stock in Acme Acres to repay for the compensations."
Monty looked as though he was going to faint. He was growing paler by the moment.
"And," said Grovely with a final word, "the last I checked of your accounts, Master Monty, you are currently thirty-million in debt."
Monty's jaw dropped and broke a hole in the gym floor. After this particularly talented wild-take, Monty, with every eye in the gym on him, fell to the ground and started beating his fists.
"NOOOO!" he cried like a toddler who got coal for Christmas. "No, no, no, no, no! I don't want to be in debt! It's Christmas! Good things are supposed to happen this time of year! Where's Shamel's spirit!"
"Probably back home with the fruit cake," Plucky muttered to his group.
"My suggestion, Master Monty," said Grovely, "is returning all nine-hundred-thousand Christmas presents you have back home. They should more than clear away your debt."
Monty blanched and started to bawl even harder, kicking and beating the ground in total misery.
"Oh, cheer up, Monty," said Elmyra, knelling down and hugging him. His crying subsided, though he still sniveled. "It's Christmas, and you still got me. I'll always love you even if you're flat broke. Now come on," and, with her enormous strength, Elmyra lifted the sobbing Monty onto his feet. "Rocky's found some really nice dark chocolate cookies. You like those, don't you?"
As she carried Monty away, Hamton thought he heard, through the sniffles, Monty say, "Yeah . . . okay. I . . . I guess those would be fine. . ."
"You think he'll be okay?" Hamton asked his friends.
"Who cares?" said Babs. But then, smiling lightly, she said, "Yeah, he'll be fine. Elmyra will look after him for us."
"Maybe it'll teach Monty to appreciate the meaning of non-material value," said Buster. Everyone looked at him skeptically. "Well . . . we can hope, can't we?"
Grovely cleared his throat again. Hamton and the others turned to him.
"I wouldn't worry, my good fellows," said the butler. "Master Monty has been in debt before, and given his abnormal income, he always bounces back. But, anyway. . ." Using the side of his polished black shoe, Grovely slid the crate of Du Coeur over to Hamton and picked up the bottle that Monty had dropped onto the floor. With a handkerchief, Grovely cleaned the perfume of Monty's tears.
"Seeing as Master Monty will not be finding much use for this anymore," said Grovely, now showing a light smile, "I see no reason to bring it back with us. Perhaps you would like it, though, Mister Pig?" Grovely held out the purple bottle. "I understand you wanted to give it to your darling friend here."
Hamton blinked, his lungs unable to let loose any air.
Speechlessly, he watched as Grovely placed the bottle into his hand.
Hamton stared down at it: the gold cap, the reflective crystal body, the sleek silver letters.
Part of him wanted to laugh. The other part wanted to cry. It was like holding a star.
All his friends were smirking. Fifi was smiling gently.
"Uh . . . Fifi?" he said, and he held out the bottle. "Merry Christmas."
Fifi looked from the bottle and back to Hamton. "I told you, mon amor. I already have what I want. Ze sweetest, most wonderful boy I ever met."
Hamton's cheeks went red.
"But," she said with a shrug, "I will certainly take it, if you wish."
Hamton nodded, and, holding it out, Fifi's hand graced his and she took the Du Coeur.
"Thank you, Hamton." And she hugged him, kissing his cheek.
Nearly everyone awwwed in admiration.
Grovely clapped his hands. "Good show, sir. And feel free to keep the rest." Using the side of his polished black shoe, the butler slid the wood box over beside Hamton. "Something tells me Master Monty won't want it in the mansion anymore. Bad memories, you know. Now, if you excuse me, I think I will help myself to some fruit cake."
The butler walked off, a little more happy than he usually was.
"That makes seven, Plucky," Shirley said smugly.
Plucky rolled his eyes. "Well?" he asked Fifi. "What you waiting for? Open it up! Come on! What does it smell like?"
Fifi gripped the small bottle.
"All right," she said. "Let us see. . . ."
Hamton and his friends watched with rapt attention as Fifi broke the wax seal on the perfume's gold cap. It popped off like a champagne cork.
"Okay," Fifi said bracingly. "Here it goes."
Fifi sprayed one sprit of the $6000 perfume onto her wrist, then, gently, she sniffed it.
Her eyes widened. "Sacré bleu!"
"What?" said Hamton, startled. "What is it, Fifi?"
"Hamton. . . ," she said speechlessly. "Smell."
Hamton took the Du Coeur and sniffed the cap.
He gaped. "Are you serious?"
"Well?" asked Plucky impatiently. "What does it smell like?"
Without bothering to ask, Plucky snatched the purple bottle out of Hamton's hands and gave it a whiff.
His mouth fell open. "Ch . . . chocolate?"
"Chocolate?" exclaimed the others.
"Chocolate?" repeated the crowd.
"Oui. . ." said Fifi, nodding speechless. "Chocolate."
"The most popular perfume in the world. . . ." Hamton shook his head.
Off to the side, Furrball started to chuckle. Soon he was laughing so hard, he pressed his hands to his center.
The others joined him, all laughing together in the surprising discovery as Mary began the next song.
The party concluded at 9:00, the clock tower ringing it in. Some had gone home early, but Hamton and his friends stayed until the very end. He walked out of the school with them, one hand in Fifi's and the other holding his Acme Ultra-Storage Duffel Bag.
"That bag must be larger on the inside," Buster commented. "I still can't believe you fit that whole crate of perfume."
"It does a good job on the weight, too," Hamton replied. "Never had a spill with it."
It was still snowing. A fresh layer of soft white was visible on top of everything. The statues of Bugs and Daffy had a stack of snow atop their mortarboards. The surrounding skyscrapers looked like they had fuzz all around their roofs. The streetlights and lampposts all gave off diffused light, as though they were lanterns lighting the vacant sidewalks.
The seven friends walked together away from the school, towards their homes. They were alone, yet felt perfectly comfortable and safe, all because of each other's presence.
As they crossed a city block, Hamton looked up quickly. He thought he saw something fly overhead, something long and silhouetted by the clouds and night sky. . . .
They stopped at the Acme City Dump.
"Oh! It is here!" Fifi chimed.
Hamton looked in. Beside Fifi's pink Cadillac, now more noticeable because of the freshly fallen snow, was what looked like a rocket-powered cylinder. The word ACME was painted on the side.
"Acme Fast-Travel," said Fifi.
"Oh, yeah," said Hamton, remembering Fifi's planned trip to spend the Holidays with her family.
He found that this information hurt a little; the last few hours with Fifi had been the best he ever had. He would've liked nothing better than to spend the whole Holiday with her. But . . . he remembered that her family wanted that too, and Hamton couldn't take that away from them. He had his own schedule to follow, too.
Fifi rushed to her car and stuffed her luggage into the half-car sized cylinder. When she was done, she rushed over and hugged Babs and Shirley.
"Have a good time, girls," she said, beaming.
Hamton blanched. She was leaving now? Right now?
"Enjoy yourself, girlfriend," said Shirley, giving Fifi a hug.
"Yeah," said Babs, "say hi to your folks for us."
Fifi let them go, then hugged Buster and Plucky.
"Bye, boys! Merry Christmas!"
"You too, Fifi," said Buster, giving her a lighter pat than the girls did, but still happily done so.
"Yeah, yeah," said Plucky. He rolled his eyes, but was, at least, smiling. "You have fun in Paris."
"Oh, I shall!"
Fifi then kindly hugged Furrball.
"You have a lovely Christmas, Furrball," said Fifi softly. "It is so good to have you here with us."
Furrball, as always, didn't say anything, but the hug he returned said enough.
And finally, Fifi pulled away and turned towards Hamton.
The stared at each other, hardly aware of their friends or even the snow, still falling to earth. At that moment, their memories shot to all the times this December when they had stood in this very spot.
The first week: they had made a cake together and got a perfect grade. Hamton comforted Fifi and Fifi hugged him in thanks.
The second week: they had their date. Fifi started to understand her feelings, and, again, Hamton warmed Fifi's heart when he complimented her.
The third week: they had their separate things to do, but on that Friday, after their exams, Fifi's heart was finally certain.
And now today on Christmas Eve. . . .
She stepped in and he leaned closed.
Together, they kissed.
And again, the world seemed to leave them at peace, caught in the middle of a peaceful Christmas snow.
"I shall see you soon, mon amor," Fifi said when they pulled away.
Hamton nodded, not taking his eyes off her. He really couldn't get enough. "See you later," he said bracingly.
Fifi turned, entered the Acme City Dump and stepped inside the pod. She gave him and her dearest friends one last look before closing the door.
A second later, the pod gave a little rumble and then, in the blink of any eye, it shot into the air and was flying off into the night, the burning rockets of the pod visible against the dark sky. Hamton watched until its light disappeared over the city's horizon.
"It'll be Christmas morning when Fifi lands," said Babs off-handedly.
"Yeah. . . ." said Hamton, still staring out at the place where the pod vanished.
"You'll see her soon, Hamton," said Buster, kindly. "No need to look so glum."
"I'm not," he said, and he truly meant it. Sadness was one feeling he didn't feel right now. "I just . . . I . . ."
He couldn't find the right words to describe how he felt. Wonderful, surprised, but all together incredible.
"So," said Plucky, grinning slyly, "how does it feel to have a girlfriend?"
Hamton blushed. "Very, very nice."
"Like, the best feeling you've ever had?" Shirley asked. "Your heart is light and flowing around inside you as your brain goes all spacy and junk?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"That's what you felt when you started going out with me?" asked Plucky, intrigued.
"Like, kinda," said Shirley, shaking her hand, indicating a 'so-so' feeling.
"Kinda?" Plucky repeated indignantly.
"Oh, chill, Plucky," said Shirley, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Like, I like you the same way Fifi likes Hamton. I just, you know, have a few more things to put up with. No big deal, usually. . . ."
Everyone laughed, even Plucky smirked a little.
"But seriously," Shirley said genuinely, holding Plucky's hand, "it's no big deal. Not to me."
To that, Plucky smiled the warmest Hamton's seen all season.
"Well, I hate to break up this cozy little chat," said Buster, "but we probably should get home before it gets any later."
They all set off, and when they came to the intersection where the forest and country road crossed, they all stopped for one last time that night.
"Merry Christmas, guys," said Buster, holding Babs hand.
They all exchanged the same greeting. Then, at peace with the world, Buster and Babs headed for the forest, Plucky and Shirley for the pond and hills, and Hamton and Furrball for the suburbs.
Overhead, the snow continued drifting, gentle and white.
And though faint, the six friends thought they could hear sleigh bells ringing . . . somewhere high above.
All comments are welcome.