*Chapter 2: Weed Memblo*
At a local tea house, there was a small party of retirees enjoying an evening out on the town and to get out of the rain. Geisha girls had also joined them for entertainment and some music. Finally, after a while, most of the party had left, leaving just two men remaining with the geisha. One of them was aging former cartoon director, Weed Memblo.
He looked pretty good considering his age though his tan brown hair had finally gone white. In spite of his thin appearance, he was quite in good health. Japan had been a great place to retire to after fleeing from Hollywood and leaving behind all the baggage of the studio system behind. Although he had refrained from talking about his previous career with his then new neighbors, Memblo didn't have much of a problem telling stories of the Golden Age to anyone who was curious enough and cared to listen these days. It was the nice quiet life that he'd been wanting since his time at Termite Terrace.
When the clock struck nine, Memblo's last party member began to take his leave, politely bowing as he left.
"Sayōnara to oyasumi, Memblo-san."
"Sayōnara, Takayama-san." Memblo replied heartily. "Same time next week?"
"Of course."
"Alright. Drive safe, I hear the weather's gettin' pretty murky out there."
A few minutes later, the aging cartoonist was alone with the geisha.
"Well ladies, it's just you and me." he suavely flirted to which a couple of the younger geisha giggled. "That is, if you don't mind staying late."
The geisha giggled again in girlish glee until one other who seemed to be the eldest amongst them answered a polite knock at the door to the room. She returned moments later with a concerned look on her face.
"Memblo-san, there's a young lady who wishes to see you." she said.
"...a young lady?" Memblo replied quizzically. "Who?"
"She says that she's your stepdaughter."
Now he was thrown into a loop. Memblo, despite having a few close lady friends that he dated every so often, never married. He also never had 'relations' with said lady friends. So how on earth could this young lady even think that they were in any way related?
"...Erm, I think she's quite mistaken." he said.
"She's pretty insistent." the older geisha pressed sympathetically and respectfully. "She would also like to speak to you alone."
Memblo let out a deep sigh in semi defeat. What harm would it possibly be to hear her out?
"Oh alright, let her in."
Memblo watched the other geisha take their leave (much to his disappointment) and heard the elder speak in Japanese to a person unseen. A few seconds later, Memblo was surprised to see a girl, looking remarkably like three familiar faces he once knew, enter the room, give the elder geisha a polite bow, and sit down in front of him with her legs underneath her and her back straight. Memblo stared back at her, almost shocked as she removed her cone shaped straw hat and neatly set it beside her backpack and hockey stick carrier.
"...Dot?!" the aging cartoonist rasped.
"...No." the girl replied in a slightly deeper voice. "But you were close, sorta."
"Bah. Shoulda known. You're too tall to be Dot. That and she'd never turn into one of those...oh what do you call 'em...goth!"
The girl's brow slightly furrowed.
"...First off, I'm not goth." she ranted. "Second, I'm not really a Warner per se."
"Well, that much is obvious."
"You recall a dude named Doctor Vlad Frankeninni?"
Memblo paused to think.
"Er...yeah." he recalled, scratching his chin. "Always wanted to blend science and animation. Sure, there's a science to cartoon making, but not that of science if you follow me."
"Well as it happens, I'm a product of one of his science projects." the girl replied distastefully.
"Are ya now? Is that why you came all the way out here? To rub in that he was right all along?"
"No. In fact, he's in the slammer right now."
"Figures. Then why are you here, and what can I do you for?"
"I'm pretty sure you're also familiar with a certain toon called, Buddy?"
"What about him? Other than the fact that he's got no market value? Something I tried and failed to get in Plotz' head after Harman and Ising left."
"Well that thing about having no market value? It really went to his head."
"Whaddya mean?"
"In short, he's lost his god damn mind! He's taken over the whole freaking studio, holding Plotz, Ralph, and a good few others hostage, and is threatening three people I care tremendously about with first degree murder!"
"...Hmmm, those 'three people' wouldn't happen to be the Warners, would it?"
"Gee, how'ja guess?"
"So whaddya want me to do about it? If ya hadn't noticed, I'm in the middle of retirement!"
"Because apparently, you're the only bastard remaining from the Golden Era that knows some secret bullshit method to get rid of Buddy for good that's a 'need to know' basis between animators for some reason."
"I'll have you know young lady, it's for a very good reason and a very sensitive matter. Especially after all that nonsense that came about in the mid Forties due to some other toon playin' around with paint thinner and turpentine. Our method is much more humane."
"Already heard that freaking story."
"And watch your mouth! If you were around in my day, we'd wash it out with soap."
The girl suppressed a growl of frustration and pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing.
"Look..." she said, a little more calmly. "I...we really need your help. Buddy's out of control; he's got the hots for destroying your, and a bunch of other guys' legacy."
"Hmph. Not sure if you'd call it a legacy..." Memblo scoffed.
"Whatever. The bottom line is, is that we need somebody needs to nail his butt."
Memblo gave her a scrutinizing glance after arching a brow.
"Do you now?" he said. "And what's your name, young lady?"
"Renezmae M. Roth." the girl replied. "Though I would prefer if you just call me Rem."
"I see. Well I'll have to think about it. I'm rather enjoying my retirement at the moment."
Rem glared angrily at the aging cartoonist as if she couldn't fathom anyone being this pompous or arrogant.
Keep your cool. You need him...
"Alright then." she said aloud. "Until you make up your mind, you're not leaving my sight."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Memblo ranted.
"Because Buddy's got you in his cross-hairs too, and I can't risk having anything happen to you."
"Oh for cryin' out loud, what's he got against me?!"
"Who the hell knows?! He's out of his mind. He probably blames you for not sticking up for him when Plotz gave him the pink slip."
"For heaven sakes, there were so many characters that came and went then. That's how the business works, he should know that."
"Well the message didn't sink in, apparently."
Suddenly, the two were interrupted when a shrill scream erupted in the halls outside.
