Quentin stuck to the wall like a booger, clenching the flashlight to his chest in the darkness, he had placed the globe down in the middle of the barely lit tunnel they had ventured into previously. Looking across the gap to Chip, he waited for a signal. The brown monkey had scrambled to find anything he could use as a weapon, and with Quentin's help had dislodged an unlit torch from a holder above their heads. They had to make sure that nobody would be coming after them. Getting the nod from the black cat, Chip dropped onto his knees and crawled as close to the edge of the wall as possible. Peering around the corner, he took one last glance at Quentin and nodded back. "Welp. Here goes nothing." He mouthed out. Stretching his arm out, he backhanded the blue ball and watched as it rolled perilously down the lit corridor. Picking up momentum on the slight decline, the sound of the plastic embracing the cobblestone almost matched the two Toons heartbeats. After a short journey, the globe had crashed into a wall and cracked out a loud bonk. Quentin and Chip hopped back into the shadows and waited in anticipation of somebody or something. After a long moment of nothingness, Chip used the wall to clamor back to his feet. The brown monkey made a few motions with his hands, trying to explain his pan.

The black cat threw up his hands in confusion. "What?"

"Stay behind and watch my back!" Chip squeaked out, and started to tiptoe down the tunnel. Surprisingly it was more comfortable in the darkness. While there was no way of knowing what was there, he could at least know that anybody else would not know he was there. Now he was exposed and armed with a small, cast-iron torch. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. Part of him wished that he had brought that boom-mic. It didn't do much damage, but it kept anyone who planned on killing him and turning him into a pumpkin at bay. The overwhelming copper stench was becoming almost normal after so long of being down here. Reaching the end of the tunnel, Chip squeezed against the wall and crouched down, slapping his blunt weapon into his palm. Looking back into the shadows, he called Quentin to him with a quick wave. The egotistical monster quickly sprinted in fear, swiftly and silently to join his new comrade. "Okay, I think we should just run in swinging. I think that's probably our best bet. Don't take any prisoners."

"Alright, but if you go down, I'm leaving you here." Quentin replied nervously. "I can't die. I still have too many masterpieces to direct. Surely you understand."

Chip rolled his eyes. "Sure, Quentin. Fine. Okay... on the count of three."

"Wait, do you mean ON three, or after three? I'm not running in by myself. I need to be sure that you're not going to stay behind while I go in and get captured." holding up three fingers, Quentin squinted at Chip who once again rolled his eyes. The brown monkey didn't respond and held up a fist.

Holding up one finger, he whispered. "One..." a second popped up. "Two..." taking one last gasp, he threw up his arm and shouted. "Three!" Chip let out a battle scream as he turned the corner and started to swing his torch wildly. Quentin, right behind him had tried his best, but found it to not be very intimidating, eyes closed he punched and kicked the air. Opening his eyes the contents of the dungeon pierced his vision.

Both Toons hopped back and covered their mouths in order to not scream. "Oh cog. Did you see that?" whispering through rapid breaths, Quentin was unable to blink.

"I did... This is... This is..." Chip covered his mouth to avoid vomiting. "We need to get out of here NOW." struggling to speak, Chip turned and started to flee, before he was caught by Quentin.

The black cat squinted and shook his head. "What happened to saving them, Chip? Gonna back down now? We're already here. Might as well keep pushing forward."

"What's come over you? Just a little while ago you were the one who was trying to run off on me. Why the sudden change of heart, huh?" skeptical of the cat, Chip crossed his arms and glared at Quentin.

"These punks just made it personal. No way I'm letting this go, Chip! Are you with me or not?" Quentin pulled off his glasses and got into the brown monkey's face. "Are you with me, or not?"

Lining the room were the limp bodies of numerous Toons. Many of them wore uniform crews for a film studio. Ignoring Quentin, Chip crossed the room and kneeled next to the corpse of a young monkey. "She can't be much older than ten, Quentin. She looks like she's my sister's age. What kind of Toons are these? What the hell is going on here!" flinging his torch across the room, the metal clanged off the wall and echoed through the empty chamber. His fear had abandoned him, replaced by an overwhelming anger. Reaching his hand over, he stroked the dead monkey's head and looked over to his partner. Even the unshakeable Quentin had been broken by the sight of fourteen dead Toons, eleven of them who he had been working with just days before.

"Why would they... I mean. What did they do... Grr!" Quentin stomped his foot a few times and walked over to Chip. "Why would they kill them and not the others?" Ducking down to join the brown monkey, he looked over at the small Toon and tilted his head. Slowly reaching his hand out he brushed it against against the Toon's fur. Stroking silently for a few seconds, his face scrunched. Squeezing the monkey's arm he looked to Chip in confusion. "This is a dummy."

"A dummy? What do you mean?" ripping out the book he had made that had pictures of all reported missing Toons, he started to flip through until he had found the same monkey the pair were sat by. "Look at this. Anna Banana. Its a perfect match!" Shaking his head, Quentin tightened his grip on the monkey's arm and pulled back, ripping off the yellow limb. "Good lord!" Chip nearly fell back in horror.

Slapping Chip with the arm, Quentin chuckled anxiously. "Look, sand is pouring out. It's just a dummy. We use these when we need to portray dead bodies in movies. Way easier than hoping somebody stays completely still." tossing the arm to the side, Quentin continued to examine the fake Toon. "But why are they here? Why go through the effort to make a carbon copy?"

"I don't know but this is freaking me out. Are we sure these are all dolls or dummies or whatever they are? What if this one is fake but the rest are real? It still has that blood smell in here. I don't think everybody made it out of here unscathed..." Chip had walked around and started kicking the lifeless figures, breathing a small sigh of relief as the sandy insides caved in and slowly morphed around the dimple in his foot.

Quentin had walked over and grabbed Chip's torch and swung it around a few times. "Why did you get this and I only got a flashlight?"

"What? I was the one who was going in first. Lead Toon gets the better weapon! Besides, you could have grabbed one too, there were a million of them!" Chip retorted. "Give it here, we should keep moving."

"You were about to run away! Lead Toon my buttocks. If you want one, why don't you go back and grab one?" As the Toons bickered, small holes began to open from around the walls. Bricks had been pulled and small hoses had taken their place. Pouring from the hoses was a thick red liquid. "Hey, hey! Wait a minute!" Quentin sniffed the air. "Do you smell that? The smell is back."

Chip shrugged. "I'm too used to the smell now. Where is it coming from?" Spinning around, Chip goggled the blood streaming down the walls and slowly filling the room. "Quentin. Quentin please tell me I'm dreaming!" Chip's words went unheard as Quentin had already began to sprint away down the corridor. The splashing sound of footsteps in the pouring life essence, echoed through the damp hall, alerting Chip of his friend's path. "Wait for me!"

Neither Toon had any clue where they were going. Blindly wading as the walls veins drained, spitting out gallons of the disgusting liquid, and soaking the pair. "I hate this place, Chip! I hate it! You should have just left me to become a pumpkin zombie like the rest of them. Do you know how much this shirt cost?"

"Just keep going, it feels like we're getting close to the end! There has to be an end! There has to be!" The pair had to lift their legs like they were walking through quicksand. Slowly plodding along, the smell, as well as the texture, had made both of the Toons sick to their stomachs. Keeping their lunches intact, they soon realized that the blood was beginning to ebb back, and the longer they went, the lower level it was. After a trip through Hell, the duo had beaten the Devil and reached a staircase at the very end of the hallway.

"Should we go up there?" Leaning against the mostly clean wall, Quentin kicked out his legs to dry off to the best of his ability. Holding his shirt up to his nose he gagged and covered his mouth.

Turning around, the brown monkey watched as the wave of red continued to pile up. "Hmm. Drown in blood or to not drown in blood? I think I'm going with option "A."" Jogging up the stairs, the two reached a large wooden door. There was no handle, or anything else that could be used to open their obstruction.

"Hurry up and open the door!" screaming, Quentin panicked as he turned to face the ever growing threat.

"I can't there's no handle! What kind of messed up place is this!" shifting around, Chip began to ram into the door with his shoulder. The useless effort had left the brown monkey bruised and angry. He still hadn't eaten today, and the ever growing hunger was making any physical exertion nearly impossible without a herculean effort. "Wait, give me your torch!"

Refusing, Quentin held it behind his back. "Yeah, let you have the weapon. Then I'll be defenseless!"

"Just give me the damn thing! I'm going to try burning the door down! Unless you have a better idea?" part of him wished that he hadn't saved Quentin before. How was this cat not killed by someone long ago? Swiping the metal club from Quentin, he kneeled and reached into his pocket and wrestled around for something that could be use to light it. Settling on his notepad, he tore out several pieces of blank paper, crumpled them and shoved them into the compact container. "Crap, I don't have anything to light this with!"

"I guess I'll do this." rolling his eyes, Quentin walked over and pulled out a box of matches, with a flick of his wrist he had quickly lit the match and quickly lowered it into the torch. "You're welcome."

Too tired to argue, Chip held the fire to the wooden door and waited for something to happen. "It's not catching on fire. I thought wood was flammable?"

"You're just doing it wrong! You have to hold it against the door so the fire is touching it!" the black cat walked over and slapped the door. "Hurry up!"

"That's what I did, watch!" Chip held the flame to the door, and once again nothing happened. "I think it needs something to start the fire. Is blood flammable?"

Quentin shrugged. "I'm not a doctor! I assume not! Maybe if you were drinking gasoline or something? Err! Screw this!" Quentin stole the torch back from Quentin and began to slam it into the door. "Open you stupid door! I'm Quentin Tarintoono!" the black cat battered and beat the door into submission. After a short period, Chip joined in and started to hammer away at the fragile wood. A splintering sound, and an eventual crack let the two know they were progressing.

"Keep going!" Chip screamed as he reached his hand into the small hole and began to tear away at the wood. "We can do this!" Jogging down the stairs, Quentin overturned the flame into the blood and extinguished their flame. "What are you doing? Now we don't have a fire!" Ignoring the chimp, Quentin screamed and charged up the stairs that had not been submerged in the red liquid. Holding the torch by the rounded end, he held out the blunt edge and rammed it directly into the crack, narrowly avoiding stabbing into Chip who had leapt out of the way. Using the metal weapon to try through, the door began to tear apart quickly. Chip joined in and continued the pair's efforts to break free. Hands stinging as the sharpened wood edges dug into their skin, the two escapees adrenaline took over to subvert the pain. As the blood reached their ankles, staining their shoes once again, a small hole had been created in the door. "I think I can fit through there. I'm going to need you to push me through and I'll open from the other side!"

"Yeah, I'm sure you won't just leave me behind! I'm going through and I'll pull you through!" the two glared at each other, still untrusting after the previous trials and tribulations they had gone through together.

Chip was too exhausted to argue. "Fine, but please don't run off. Please." voice filled with a quiet expectation of betrayal, of pain, and of defeat, Chip stood aside as Quentin wiggled around and took a leap into the hole. Reaching his arms around to the other side, he began to drag himself through before getting stuck about halfway through. Chip stepped back, a stair, now feeling his calves being soaked, he took a momentous start and slammed his shoulder into Quentin's feet, sliding him through to the other side. "Okay I'm coming through!" Following suit Chip took a leaping start and flew through the opening, which had expanded a bit as Quentin had broken pieces of wood that had been holding him in place. As he struggled, the black cat watched him and turned to the open hallway behind him.

To Chip's surprise, the black cat had stayed true to his word and grabbed the monkey's flailing arms and yanked as hard as he could. Struggling to keep a grip, Quentin sat down and planted his feet against the door. Arching his back, the cat began to pull, exerting the maximum effort capable of his dwindling biceps. "You need to stop eating so much!" Quentin yelled, as the veins in his arms and head began to bulge as he strained to free the monkey. On the other side, the blood had pooled up and was now halfway up the door, with small streams slowly dripping through the opening around Chip, or through the tiny cracks in the wood. This provided to be useful, as the liquid had lubricated Chip's lower half. With one last feat of strength, Quentin dragged Chip and felt him come tumbling through, undamming an outpouring of blood. "I don't think this door is going to hold on very long. We have to keep going!" Scrambling to their feet, the pair took off running down the hallway.

"Thanks for not leaving me behind back there." the ape reached out and patted the black cat on the back.

"I just needed someone that I could sacrifice if those zombies come after us again." Quentin stated. Chip was unsure if it was a joke or not but was thankful regardless. The hallway was becoming more extravagant as they continued. The floor had been donned with a floral carpeting, the walls used electric lighting rather than torches, and it wasn't covered in blood. All things that both Toons could appreciate. "I'm starving, the first thing I'm doing once we get out of here is getting myself something to eat."

Visions of food danced in Chip's mind as he salivated about what his next meal would be. "I think I'm going to need a shower first. Make that twenty showers. I've never felt this gross in my entire life."

"Whatever. I'm getting something to eat." the two made small talk, completely ignoring any precautions as they wandered through, hopeful to come out somewhere besides this dungeon. "You know I still can't get those dummies off my mind. What was up with that? They looked so real!" Quentin inquired. The two forgot about their conversation when they reached another door. This one was much nicer than the previous one as it had a handle. "Oh, cog. What do you think is through there?"

"I feel like we've asked that many times, and every time we do it gets worse. So, I'm going to assume there's probably chainsaw wielding, ten-foot monstrosities or something. Well, shall we go?" Chip joked, partly to relieve himself from the intense agony. After all, was it possible for things to get worse?