The caretaker led the way through the halls without saying a word. That didn't really bother the Warners, since the didn't come for the paid tour. In Yakko's mind the portraits decorating the walls told their own stories without Buster's narration. Hand drawn caricatures of humans next to portraits of their real selves repeated throughout the corridors. Everything about the old house had an innocent and playful tone. It was a nice house, but it had a completely opposite atmosphere of the place Yakko called home. The old house simply had only sky blue walls and green carpet, evoking feelings of security, trust, and calmness. However in the castle, every room varied in shades of red, gold, and even purple; making the atmosphere evoke a sense of power, wealth, and beauty. Maybe it was only apparent to Yakko, but the life Bugs built up in this house seemed a lot more... content.
"Here we are." Buster announced from the head of the group. The left wall disappeared into a white railing with thin pillars. Yakko leaned over the railing while his siblings peaked through the gaps between the pillars, at the drop off into the massive library below. Rather than the bookshelves being rectangular, the top shelves curved up and down in mounds. Each ivory bookshelf towered taller than the previous one, giving the library the illusion of snowy hills from the Warners' high perspective. Not an inch of space on the twelve rows of bookshelves, was unoccupied. Though there was much vacancy on the dozens of shelves that concaved into the walls. Pyramids of cardboard boxes, presumably packed with books, stacked up in the corners.
"Whoa." Yakko breathed. "Didn't know he was this into books."
"There's also records, cassettes, CDs, VHSs, and other past home entertainment relics in here." Buster said. He trotted to the stairwell that started where the hallway dead ended. Hopping up on the rail, he rode sidesaddle all the way to the bottom step. Accepting the invitation to break etiquette rule number whatever, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot followed the rabbit's example, and slid down the railing while adding an enthused 'wheeeee!'. The Warners followed Buster over to a triangular bookshelf underneath the stairs. It consisted of most of the miscellaneous items Buster listed. "So what movie are ya looking for?" The blue rabbit asked, kneeling to the floor.
"Who Framed Roger Rabbit." Wakko answered. Buster ran a finger along the spines of the plastic and paper VHS cases, in search of the right title. Meanwhile Dot began an aimless stroll around the library. She did admire Bugs' artistic style, especially when it focused on something other than carrots. Dot looked to the ceiling, realizing the light fixtures were silver spiked orbs resembling snowflakes. It didn't take long for her to spot another feature about the room she had been blind to while peaking from the balcony. To the far left, the library caved into a smaller two walled room. One missing wall served as the open spaced, doorless entryway, and the opposite wall was completely glass. Curiously Dot ventured inside the half room. Two light blue sofas were pressed against the real walls. Centered above the left sofa, hung the only decoration in the room. A golden framed landscaped painting depicted Bugs and a smaller grey rabbit laying in a meadow with an open book in front of them. The small rabbit crossed his heels in the air behind him, pointed to the page, and smiled up at Bugs. Bugs appeared proud of his young protégé. At the bottom right corner, Chuck Jones' name was signed in black ink as was the number '79'. Dot gave herself a tight hug.
"It's this sort of thing that makes me feel all warm and squishy inside." Dot giggled to herself. "Or maybe it's just something I ate." The painting was indeed precious, however after looking at it long enough, some questionable details came to light. At the start, Dot assumed the painting showed Clyde alongside Bugs, since she didn't know any other toon besides Clyde who had such a likeness to Bugs. However, the true Clyde had blue eyes, grey toes, and distinctly one metatarsal pad, contrary to the other little rabbit who had black eyes, white toes, and three pads on the bottom of his feet. In fact the nameless rabbit resembled Bugs much more than Clyde did. The once cute and charming art piece that brought a smile to her face, now mocked Dot with it's insolvable mystery. 'It should be Clyde. But it just isn't.' The youngest Warner pondered. Back in the main library, the Warner Brothers informed Buster of their day's events while they searched for Dot. Now that the desired VHS was safely caressed in Yakko's hand, it was time to go.
"And that's why we're snooping for Bugs' secrets." Yakko concluded.
"That is really shifty of Bugs. Usually he's so upfront around you three." Buster stated. "But if you wanna know Bugs' history with Mickey Mouse, he did happen to tell me how they became friends." He offered.
"Yeah? What happened?" Yakko asked. Spotting Dot in the half room, the boys headed her way.
"Well, it's funny that you're looking for Who Framed Roger Rabbit, because..." Buster began.
"Hey, Buster? Is this Clyde?" Dot interrupted. Yakko and Wakko gave the painting a good look before Buster answered.
"Huh? Oh, no. That's Art." He replied.
"I can see it's art. But who's in the picture?" Dot stressed. Buster rolled his eyes.
"Good one, Dot. How long have you been saving that line?" The blue rabbit complimented sarcastically.
"I don't get it." Wakko pouted, searching for the pun in the painting. Finally it dawned on Buster by the Warners' lost expressions. His ears laid back worriedly as he took a step away from them.
"You don't know, do you?" Buster spoke softly. Yakko awkwardly shrugged. Collecting himself, Buster motioned for the Warners to sit down on the sofas. "Then I think I just found your secret." He sighed.
Back at Bugs' castle, the bedridden Clyde battled monsters on a tiny screen between his hands. Since his frequent sneezing kept him awake, and the flu medicine failed to make him any drowsier, Bugs brought him his Nintendo DS to keep him entertained. The dutiful guardian ran back and forth all afternoon, bringing his nephew glasses of water, hot soup, new tissue boxes, and anything else he required. Hours later Bugs dragged his feet to the empty side of Clyde's full sized bed, and fell face first on the covers. He lifted his head to locate and steal a pillow from Clyde's side of the bed, then he planted his face into it. Clyde set his game down on his chest.
"Uncle Bugs?" He smiled.
"Tell me you didn't sneeze on dis pillow." Bugs chided in a warning tone.
"No, just thanks." The ill rabbit sniffed. With that, no more distractions filled Bugs' ears. The rabbit closed his eyes, and gently drifted off to sleep. Unfortunately he had no clue a short nap would become more than he bargained for. Bugs' lips lifted into a grin, vaguely aware of where his mind was going.
"Someone's rocking my dreamboat. Someone's invading my dreams." Bugs gleefully belted, prancing through a fog of pink clouds. Ahead of him, the clouds faded, and Bugs beheld one of his most cherished memories. It was the day after his only son Art Melvin Bunny was animated to life. In his trailer, Bugs reclined on the couch, cradling his grey furred bundle of joy in his lap. Delicately Bugs tipped a wide glass bottle of carrot juice into the young bunny's mouth. Bugs' ears twitched to the sound of a signature 'shave-and-a-haircut' knock on the door.
"En-ter." Dream-Bugs replied, not looking up from his son. The door creaked, and in stepped his guest. Bugs lifted his eyes to see his best friend. "What's up, Mel?" The rabbit greeted. Whatever Mel had to say seconds ago, was completely overlooked by the scene in front of him. Half asleep in Bugs' arms, little Art suckled a rubber nipple attached to the glass carrot juice bottle. The man shook his head bemusedly.
"Bugs, he may be a day old. But you know he's still too old for that, you maroon." Mel reminded.
"Shhh! Lemme enjoy dis before he loins dat out." Bugs hushed. The memory became shrouded in pink clouds, then evaporated into a new one. Bugs took a seat on one of the clouds, settling in for the rest of the show.
"We were sailing along, peaceful and calm." The rabbit continued his song. As if on cue, Bugs' view was filled with a memory taking place two weeks later. On the set of Art's debut cartoon, the little grey rabbit drilled his way out from under the artificial grass, spinning his ears like helicopter blades. Art hovered in mid air for a few seconds before landing his feet on the ground. Meanwhile behind the camera, Bugs bit his tongue and resisted every urge to insert himself into the director's chair. And he would have too, if he wanted Art to die of embarrassment from his dad becoming a backseat director. Turning to the camera, Art pointed to his ears.
"A little trick I picked up at noisery school." He recited. "Uh-oh." The camera view swiftly panned stage right to catch Elmer Fudd, drawn to match Art's age and height, holding the pull string of a toy cannon loaded with a giant cork.
"Okay, you wascally wabbit! I'm gonna bwow you to smitheweens!" Elmer threatened.
"Suddenly something went wrong." Bugs hummed, anticipating the memory. The cork fired from the cannon, leaving the red inked expression 'POP!' in its trail. Next, Art mentally prepared to dodge the cork, and ride it like a horse. But he missed his chance to jump, and the projectile rammed him right in the chest. The cork sent Art flying backwards, causing the kit's backside and head to slam against the floor. Complaints over repeating the take arose to Bugs' ears. Believing the little rabbit was okay like everyone else did, Bugs voiced his advice.
"Walk it off, kid!" Bugs hollered in support. But Art didn't bounce back or even see stars. He laid on his back, eyes shut, loudly gasping for air. Abruptly Bugs felt the air get knocked out of his own lungs when he realized something was wrong. How could he forget? Yearling toons needed time to grow into their reality bending abilities, before they knew how to use them. Art was still fragile. He had much to learn before he could for example, take a grenade's blast to the face and feel no pain. The humans murmured some concerns, while Art still panted uncontrollably. Bugs sprang urgently towards the stage, only to be stopped in his tracks. Someone already came to Art's aid. The scrawny coyote proudly walked with purpose, holding a stoic look on his face. Calmly he knelt beside the panicked bunny, and picked him up without any hesitance. Nudging down on Art's shoulders, the coyote helped him crouch and lean forward. From there it only took time. Time for Art to steady his breathing and recover on his own. Though it didn't improve Art's condition physically, the coyote supplied the kit with emotional support; rubbing his back until his breathing slowed. Cautiously, Bugs approached the director in his chair. Peeking around elderly man's arm, the rabbit beheld Chuck's thoughtful eyes that could not break away from the coyote's act of kindness. On stage, Art stood up feeling almost back to normal. When he turned to face the good Samaritan, the coyote whispered in the kit's ear words of wisdom that Art would never repeat. Then the coyote stood up, accepted no credit or grateful thanks, and walked away.
"Everything alright, Wile E.?" Chuck inquired pleasantly. Wile E. gave a sharp nod to the director, before disappearing behind a stage wing.
"Someone's rocking my dreamboat. Disturbing a beautiful dream." Bugs began the second verse. The pink haze unveiled a crisp summer day about five years later. Beside his carrot shaped outdoor pool, Bugs sunbathed on a yellow lawn chair. He tipped his sunglasses up and glanced at the giggling toon children swimming around in the pool.
"It's a mystery to me, this mutiny at sea. Who can it be?" Bugs chimed amusedly. The flashback showed Art splashing a little black duck in the face. The duckling retaliated by dunking Art's head in the water. It really was a mystery to Bugs and Daffy how the offspring of long time rivals could play together without any prejudice. From the moment they met, this equal understanding of tolerance just seemed to come out of nowhere. The duckling and kit were like brothers ever since. Detecting the sound of wet feet flip-flopping on the pavement, Bugs drew his attention to the pool again. The young toons bolted out of the water and wrapped themselves in beach towels.
"Dad, we're going inside to get some juice." Art beamed.
"Use up da free moichendise foist." Bugs reminded. Of course he referred to the eleven free 'Bugs Bunny and Pals' drink mix boxes he was gifted for doing a thirty second commercial. As the kids passed by Bugs, the rabbit tapped Art's shoulder to distract him while their feathered guest kept walking. The kit looked at Bugs curiously. "I know ya liked Th' Fox an' th' Hound, but ya don't have ta string the duck along." Bugs taunted. Art clenched his teeth, wanting to retaliate in his friend's defense. But to Bugs' surprise the kit whipped the damp towel off of him and threw it in Bugs' face. The rabbit filled his fist with a wad of towel, and yanked it off. He narrowed his eyes vengefully at Art."C'mere, you scamp!" Bugs demanded. Art revved his feet up to speed away famously like the Road Runner. But Bugs latched his fingers around Art's ears before he could escape. In one swift scoop, Bugs lifted the kit up and dropped him in his lap. Holding Art in a bear hug, Bugs relentlessly tickled his young until neither rabbit could recall what began their squabble.
"A friendly breeze gave us a start, to a paradise of our own." Bugs sang a little off key. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something gave him a chill as the clouds brushed over another flashback. Bugs crouched behind a brown upright piano, in the back corner of a brightly lit, hard floored room. In the middle of the room, five very important humans sat at a rectangular table. They all faced the door, waiting for one toon to take a seat in front of them. The doorknob clicked, and Art skipped in alone. He grabbed the lonely black chair distanced from the table, twirled it around, and sat on it backwards, supporting his elbows on the backrest. Bugs smirked from his hiding place. If the kid was nervous he definitely didn't show it.
"What's up, toonsters?" Art addressed confidently. The man at the center of the group tipped his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, and then linked his fingers together under his chin.
"Well Art, we've been going back and forth for months over one significant casting decision. Whether we want the Looney Tunes to mentor their preexisting kids, or teach a whole new cast of nonrelative characters." He explained. Art stared at the humans, speechless. Meanwhile Bugs gently pushed the piano away from the wall with his foot. The piano rolled on its wheels to Bugs' whim. Silently the rabbit crept out with a big bundle behind his back. Knowing Art was hanging off of Mr. Spielberg's every word, Bugs deemed it safe to sneak up close to Art. "We'd like to tell you that..." The man paused dramatically. "We've decided to use both ideas to cast a wider variety of characters... and you're one of them." Strangely the kit didn't explode with ecstasy like Bugs had imagined. Leaning over Art's shoulder, Bugs decided to give him a clue.
"Eh... You got the part, Doc." The rabbit simplified. Art stumbled off the chair at the sound of his dad's voice. His eyes were overwhelmed by the radiant hues of an enormous balloon bouquet. The only white one read 'Congrats!' in big dark blue letters. Art's heart must have flipped to see his dad and number one hero holding all the colors of the rainbow by their strings to congratulate him. After all that was the effect Bugs was going for. Finally words returned to Art's mouth.
"Really?!" He cried. The humans chuckled at the little rabbit, and expressed their best wishes for him with a standing ovation. Bugs looped half of his balloons' strings around Art's wrist and lifted him up in a strong embrace. Art joyfully returned the hug.
"It's your show now, son. You're gonna be a big star!" Bugs complimented. He'd never felt so proud.
"And you too?" Art wondered. Bugs amusedly ruffled Art's hair.
"You know I couldn't do it wit'out ya!" He promised.
Suddenly a jolt of anguish ripped Bugs away from the memory. A lump swelled in Bugs' throat, his face heated, and his eyes clamped shut to hold back the tears. Blindly, Bugs tried to navigate himself away from whatever caused him such heartbreak and guilt. But a white flash against his eyelids forced his eyes wide open in fear. The once pink and peaceful clouds became foreboding dark violet. Overhead the dark fog parted into a black hole, and the clouds literally dropped gallons of water on Bugs. He attempted to shelter his head with his arms and ears, but to no avail. As the rain streamed along the tips of his ears and over his face, Bugs couldn't tell the raindrops from his tears. He couldn't say how long he stood there in the downpour, until he sensed his soaked feet were standing in a puddle. Slowly and surely Bugs was losing the fight to suppress the incoming memories. Whispers nagged at him to finish the song. More voices joined in, making the murmuring inside his head louder than the rain. Finally the distraught rabbit fell to his knees in the cold water.
"All at once a storm blew us apart." Bugs quivered. Ahead of him in the deep violet haze, a string of glittering lights hung in the air. Upon further analysis, Bugs detected a sea of toons dancing under them. Breathing in the smoky air, Bugs' mind transported him back to that night. The night he wished was nothing but a nightmare.
The date was Saturday, July 8th 1989. At the end of a tranquil country lane in Toontown, the Hamhocks' farm wasn't so tranquil. The upmarket farmhouse and surrounding property was co-owned by the Hamhock brothers; Piggy, Patrick, Peter, Percy, Portis, and Porky. Normally the farm was only used by the family. But after a sly persuasion from Daffy, Porky caved to invite coworkers and friends out to the farm for just one night, granted that nothing would go wrong. So on the big night, far more guests than Porky anticipated flooded in. Nearly every toon from Warner Brothers and several toons from Hanna-Barbera were present. Most of the guests were in the backyard, drinking, fist fighting, dancing, or trying too hard to do two of the three at once. Meanwhile across the pasture, in the traditional red painted barn, the highest window shutters swung open, and Bugs poked his head out. He spied on the adult party getting more out of control by the minute. He munched on a carrot and shook his head in dismay as Taz spun through a pole suspending lanterns on a wire. That corner of the backyard flickered out into darkness. Lucky for the rabbit he was safe from the chaos, in the barn at the kid friendly party. In his company were two kits, two ducklings, two piglets, and one kitten, who entertained themselves all night by chasing each other around in the haystacks. It brought a smile to Bugs' face to hear the young ones laugh so hard. On the far side of the barn, a door creaked. Bugs leapt from his perch in the rafters over to the peak of the haystack mountain. There he could see Porky marching down the aisle between the empty horse stalls.
"Thi-thi-this has gone far enough!" Porky grumbled to himself.
"You said it, Doc. Why'd ya t'ink I'm hidin' out wit' th' kids?" Bugs spoke up. Porky's eyes shot up to Bugs, not expecting to see him in the barn. He soon sighed, and looked to the rustling haystacks for his son and daughter.
"Pi-piah-Parker? Porcha? Are you te-te-te-two alright?" The pig stuttered. Upon hearing their names the Pig twins, one bald and one adorned with black braids, stuck their heads out of the hay.
"We're okay, Dad." Parker replied in a voice hardly differing from Porky's own.
"I can't complain." Sylvester Jr. said elsewhere in the pile.
"I'm fine." Clyde responded, popping up next to Bugs. Art followed suit and pinched Clyde's ear.
"Correction, cousin. You're it!" Art sneered. Quickly, he bolted down the hay mountain on all fours to avoid being tagged back. Suddenly the game was back on before the young toons could finish their roll call. Bugs sidestepped down to the barn's wood floor. Walking with Porky, he muttered
"Listen Doc. If it were me, I'd've kicked dat screwball duck an' ev'ryone else I didn't like at de moment off me property by now."
"Yuh-You're right. I geh-geh-gotta put meh-meh-ah-my foot de-de-de, put a stop to this." Porky asserted. "De-de-da-Daffy's turning this pep-place into a meh-meh-madhouse. I don't even know why we had to do this here." He ranted.
"Because anyplace else we could afford ta rent don't have a soft host ta walk all ovah." Bugs answered bluntly. Porky gave the rabbit a sour look. Not taking his comment back, Bugs ushered Porky out the door. "Right. You get rid of all th' barflies, and when dey leave we'll break out de firewoiks." Bugs bargained. The pig shook his head, a little perturbed at Bugs now.
"Don't be sih-sih-sill-eh empty-headed, Bugs. Thi-thi-the-there's a fire ban out." Porky explained tiredly. With that the pig walked away from the barn; not looking back. Bugs leaned against the barn's red door, chomping away at another carrot as he mulled over his friend's words. First, fire bans never applied to Toontown. Second, the party's entire purpose was to celebrate the fourth, fireworks and all, on the weekend. Well maybe Porky was just ready to throw in the towel. After all this didn't turn out to be the party anyone expected. Bugs paused his snacking, noticing the kids were strangely quiet. He turned his head and immediately found Art at his feet.
"What's up, champ?" Bugs asked. The kit folded his arms and bent one ear half over his eye, trying to look cool.
"So the firewoiks're off, right?" Art guessed. Bugs stooped to the young rabbit's level.
"Well I wouldn't say dat, now." Bugs implied, summoning a thin box labeled 'ACME Long Lasting Sparklers!' from a hammerspace pocket on his hip. The little rabbit's eyes lit up in surprise. He swiftly snatched the box from Bugs' hand. "Share those wit' ev'ryone. And don't play wit' matches." Bugs cautioned. Additionally Bugs pulled out a metal box with rounded corners. "Here. Use this." The rabbit offered, passing the antique to Art. The device was the size of Art's hand. A jagged inscription of the word 'Superman' marked the silver face. Having a good hunch of what the item was, Art pressed his thumb to the tiny button on the side. The top instantly flicked off, generating a blue flame.
"Whoa! Thanks Dad." Art beamed, gazing hypnotically at the fire. Bugs rolled his eyes. 'Dis bettah not toin 'im into a firebug.' He thought in hindsight.
"You can t'ank me by not losin' dat. It's very valuable... sentimentally." Bugs entrusted.
"I won't." Art vowed, snapping the lighter closed. Bugs nodded.
"Good. Now go play wit' yer friends in da driveway." The rabbit instructed. Art excitedly blew a whistle to the barn.
"C'mon, gang!" He shouted. In a flash the second generation Looney Tunes rushed out, following Art's lead across the pasture. "And stay on da gravel. Watch for traffic." Bugs reminded as the young toons ran off. Art in particular gave no indication that he heard Bugs' last words, which being the long eared rabbit that he was, seemed unlikely. But the elder rabbit let it slide. As long as nobody committed arson, he wouldn't get on anyone's case with the 'I told you so's. Making his way up to the populated party in the backyard, Bugs decided he would sample one more plate from the dessert table before he took the kits home. Speaking of leaving for home, as he bustled through the wild crowd, Bugs' highly sensitive ears couldn't help picking up all sorts of voices claiming they were surely sober enough to drive. The rabbit tried to block out the gossip, when it suddenly hit him like a ton of cement. What was he thinking, sending the kids to the driveway?! Panic-stricken, Bugs snatched a paper lantern off the nearest collapsed pole, and ran with it to the front of the house. Through the maze of oddly parked cars, the rabbit dashed. Then Bugs spotted the flashy light of the sparklers as specks in the distance. The private drive where the young toons played was a narrow gravel road, sharing picket fence boarders with a pasture on either side, and the gate to the main road was unlatched for cars to come and go.
"If any o' dere folks knew I sent 'em into a roadkill trap at dis hour..." Bugs grumbled. The rabbit raced down the drive, kicking up a rooster tail of pint sized rocks behind him. Zooming up to the toons, Bugs came to a screeching halt, and raised his lantern over his head to get a look at the kids. Shadowy lines fell over his glaring face, and the young toons lowered their sparklers cautiously.
"What's up, Docs? Wanderin' dis far from da house!" Bugs scolded. "You shouldn't play way out here in th' dark! You're liable ta get run ovah!" The rabbit lectured. "Go back ta da house where someone can see ya. No one needs ta kiss a bumper tonight." In single file, the young toons dragged their feet back up the drive. Watching their faces illuminate as they passed by his lantern, Bugs did a double take. Only one rabbit walked amongst the little ones.
"Say, Docs? Where's Art?" Bugs questioned wearily.
"We thought they were with you." Sylvester Jr. answered, looking back at him. 'They?' Bugs fretted. After a quick mental headcount, Bugs realized one kit and one duckling were missing. Keeping calm in front of the youths, he ordered them back to their parents, and Clyde to stay with the Pigs. Clyde hesitated to move, feeling something was wrong, but sprinted after the others before he could be left behind. Meanwhile Bugs waved his lantern over the fence posts, searching the pastures for any sign of Art. The longer the seconds crawled by, the more Bugs began to unravel. Desperately he called Art's name, again and again, with no reply. Suddenly a sliver of white happened to catch his eye. Bugs hopped the fence to pluck the white strip of fabric from the green grass blades. While examining it, Bugs noticed how the two ends had matching tears, and when brought together it was clear the fabric was once ring shaped. For example, it could have been a bracelet, or a wristband, or...
That thing, Bugs recognized. That white... thing Daffy always wore around his neck! Only this one was small enough to fit...
"Boys, this isn't funny!" Bugs bellowed into the night. "Where are you?!"
"And left me drifting alone." The rabbit whimpered, finding himself hunched over and kneeling in the puddle under the violet rainstorm. It all came back to him; not that he'd ever forgotten. But now he remembered where he was, and where he stayed all these years. Despite Bugs' best efforts to move on and save his career, the grief never left the back of his mind. And when it resurfaced, it broke his heart in two every time. No matter how the years passed, there were always new tears to hide, everyday Art was gone.
"Someone's rocking my dreamboat. I'm captain without any crew.
But with love as my guide, I'll follow the tide.
"I'll keep sailing till I... find... you." Bugs sobbed. Suddenly the clouds broke, and all of Bugs' senses numbed. When he came to, he was back in Clyde's room. A small grey rabbit with a tint of green in his cheeks, clenched Bugs' shoulders. Bugs blinked at him confusedly, until he detected the dried tears streaking down his face.
"Uncle Bugs? You were dreaming." Clyde sighed.
Author's Note: JUST TO PROVE I'm trying really hard not to use OCs...
1.) Piggy Hamhock - 'You Don't Know What You're Doin'!' (1931)
2.) Piggy Hamhock and siblings - 'At Your Service Madame' (1936)
3.) Porky's siblings named in - 'The Case of the Stuttering Pig' (1937)
4.) Sylvester Jr. - 'Pop 'Im Pop' (1950)
5.) Clyde Bunny - 'His Hare Raising Tale' (1951)
6.) Mystery Duckling #1 - 'Quackodile Tears' (1962)
7.) Mystery Duckling #2 - 'A-Haunting We Will Go' (1966)
8.) Porky and Petunia's piglets (with OC names) - 'Bugs Bunny's Christmas Carol' (1979)