Bosko ran his hand through his hair as he looked at his reflection in the aged bathroom mirror. The bags under his eyes had drooped back to the size they were while he was at Clampett, and he frowned when he found what was now the sixth gray hair on his head sitting above his ear. Goddamn it if he knew why they only started to appear a week ago.
He turned on the faucet with a squeak and cupped his hands to catch the milky water gurgling out of the pipe. He leaned forward and splashed the water against his face, letting out a long breath when the cool liquid ran down cheeks and washed away some of the grime that had been irritating him for the past few days. All he wanted to do was take a shower and cleanse himself of the filth that was itching at his skin, but yet another commitment to Smokey had made that impossible to do at the moment.
Bosko turned off the faucet and dried his face with a stained towel. He tossed the towel onto the floor near the door and picked up his gloves. Examining the unraveling stitching between the fingers and several holes in the knuckles, he slowly stretched the fabric over his hands and gave himself one last solemn glance in the mirror before exiting the cramped and dimly lit bathroom.
"You ready yet?" Oswald yawned and stood up.
"Yeah, though I could really use a shower and a nap right about now." Bosko muttered as he sat down on his bed to put on his shoes.
"I took the morning off to catch up in those areas. I don't think I've felt this good in years." Oswald smiled.
"That's nice and all, but some of us have actual shit to take care of and don't have time for a spa day." Bosko muttered.
"Oh c'mon, Bosk. There's always time if you make enough room for it."
"Yeah, well tell Smokey that," he huffed as he pulled on his laces. "How'd you get out of what you were supposed to do, anyway?"
"Tango told me they were bringing in some toons I used to work with at Disney way back when. He gave me the list and I saw a couple of my exes, so I got Shorty to process them instead."
"They let you off that easy?" Bosko raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I convinced them how batty these chicks are and I promised I'd help out with the next raid," said Oswald. "Though who knows when that will be. We've pretty much hit every spot Smokey was after."
"Have you gotten any word on Mickey yet?" Bosko said a moment later as he finished tying the last knot on his shoe. The rabbit's words about Oswald were still ringing in his ears from earlier.
"What do you mean?" Oswald looked over at him.
"I heard Smokey was aiming to catch him, too. Though no one has a clue where he is, from what I've heard."
"Didn't know he was that interested in him now that we've got Warner Brothers' most prized possession." Oswald shrugged.
"Don't you still want to snag him though?" Bosko said. He kept a steady eye on Oswald and watched him stiffen.
"I mean, I wasn't gunning for him particularly." Oswald shrugged after a moment.
"I thought you wanted to, you know, pay him back and all." Bosko raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know Bosk," Oswald sighed. "I've mostly come to peace with him, at this point."
"I thought you said he still got to you."
"Sure, he still annoys me and all, but I decided there was nothing I could do about it anymore. He got the spotlight and I didn't."
"But he stole your career! Just think where you could be if he didn't take your spot." Bosko said.
"I guess after all these years I've gotten tired of being so worked up over it all the time, especially when there's nothing I can do to fix it." Oswald scratched the back of his head.
"So why are you here if you don't care about gettin' that bastard back?" Bosko wondered aloud. "Why go through all this if you've got nothing to gain?"
"I'm here for you, Bosk. Whatever you need to accomplish to move on, I'm here to help," Oswald said. "I know how hard it is to do alone- it took me decades to get to this point without anyone helping me."
Bosko looked down at his hands, which he didn't realize he'd been twisting nervously.
"Like I deserve your help..." Bosko said quietly. Oswald sat down next to him on the bed.
"Whatever you need to do to make your life go right, I'll help you. You're my friend, and you're probably the only one at that," he nudged him. "Besides, you saved my ass in Clampett too many times to count. I wouldn't still have all my fingers if you weren't there to scare off all those assholes who tried to fight me for one reason or another." Oswald smiled.
"Jesus, way to lay the sugar on thick. You're making me nauseous," Bosko snorted through a small smile. "No wonder you're a Disney toon."
"It's basically in my contract that I induce those kinds of feelings and shit every now and then," chuckled Oswald. "Well, what was my contract."
Bosko shook his head and took in the reassuring words of his friend, thankful that at least one bastard in this world wasn't constantly giving him shit or holding him back. He looked up at the rusty analog clock on the wall above Oswald's bed and shot up when he saw that it read 1:35.
"Shit, we were supposed to meet Bosko five minutes ago." he quickly got up and threw open the door with Oswald practically stepping on his heel behind him.
"This is gonna be fun." Oswald shook his head and slammed the door shut before they took off towards Smokey's office.
"Do you think the boss would, like, mind if I asked for the day off? I met a real babe who seems totally into me and, like, I'd love to show how into her I am."
"Yeah, because he's so sympathetic to us average Romeos. I asked Fritz to ask him about vacation days and he totally flipped. Said I was an ungrateful shit and all that stuff."
"Well, it's not like he's wrong- OW! No need to get violent over it, asshole."
Wakko leaned further into the wall as the two toons nearby continued their conversation. He had a hand attentively positioned above his hammerspace, ready to draw his mallet if the toons turned the corner. Yakko sat behind him in a similar stance.
They had tried to avoid the busier, brighter hallways they came across after Yakko had pointed out a security camera with a shaky finger on the last floor they were on. Now, they were stuck crunched up in an intersection of several damp, dark hallways, and had been forced to listen to the two "prospective perverts," as Yakko had put it, for the last five minutes.
"Are they gone yet?" Yakko quietly groaned. After trying to maneuver through the confusing labyrinth of hallways for the past half an hour or so, Wakko could tell his brother was becoming just as aggravated as he was.
Wakko poked his head out and frowned when he saw that the two teenage bear toons were still standing in the middle of the hallway with their backs to them. From what he could see, both seemed to be afflicted with raging cases of acne. Wakko shuddered and hoped that he wouldn't have to look like that when he's a teen.
Well, if he lived that long.
"Nope. I think they've decided to nest there or something." Wakko sighed and rested his head against the wall.
"Why'd they choose this dump of all places? I'm sure there are other parts of this place that are less... slimy." Yakko frowned as a trail of goo trickled down the wall beside him.
"Are you kidding me? This seems like a perfect place for nasty toons like them," said Wakko. "You heard them talking about that Tiffany girl, whoever she is."
"Ugh, they're worse than those guys we ran into on the way to the lot. I didn't know describing a girl could get so... detailed." Yakko shuddered.
"And that's coming from a kid with a 'Playtoon' under his bed." Wakko scoffed.
"How'd you know about-" Yakko blushed before Wakko silenced him with a finger once the two bears continued their conversation.
"I mean, I just need one night with her," continued the taller bear. "Even an hour or two would work- but no, all the higher ups just gotta be sticks in the ass."
"I know, but don't go, like, projecting that. Greg totally flipped on Tango last week and I haven't seen him since." the other said through a string of cracks in his voice.
"What did he say?"
"Somethin' about how he's sick of getting shitty jobs and how no one gives a damn about us around here. He would've been fine if, like, he hadn't called Smokey the spitting image of his right ass-cheek."
"Shit... I didn't hear about that. Though I- hold on." Wakko heard the buzz of static travel down the hall. "Yello?"
"You dumbasses are late for you're shift." a voice faintly traveled above the static.
"Sorry, we, like, lost track of time."
"Get up to the cell before Craig and Finnick miss their lunch and I have to come find your asses myself."
"Right-" Wakko heard a click. "Jesus, my watch says we're only two minutes late. Can't they chill out for, like, a second?"
To his relief, they padded down the hallway. He let out a breath when their annoying banter faded as the door farthest from them slammed shut.
"They gone?" Yakko asked.
"Thankfully. I think they went that way, so our best bet is straight ahead."
"Alright, follow me." Yakko said and moved in front of him.
Yakko scanned the area and started toward another rusted door. Wakko was moving to follow him when someone grabbed his shoulder from behind. He whipped around and punched the figure as hard as he could, sending himself and a white mass sprawling to the floor along with a tray of glass viles the toon was holding. Wakko was about to pull out his mallet and continue his assault, but stopped when his vision cleared and a dazed duck with wild hair and askew glasses came into view.
"Gah! How are you so quiet?" Wakko shrieked with a sweaty palm clutching his shirt.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I forgot how quiet my webbed feet make me." Ludwig Von Drake nervously giggled as he pointed to his foot and wiggled his toes.
"I didn't mean to piss my pants right there either, so I guess we're on the same page." Wakko muttered, trying to slow his breathing and calm the rapid pounding of his heart against his rib cage.
"Wakko!" Yakko nudged him, the look of panic on his face quickly ebbing into an equally relieved and annoyed pout.
"Sorry, I guess I'm just a bit on edge." he said and stood up on shaky legs, offering the duck a hand.
"It is very alright. I agree that I am somewhat 'on edge,' as you say, myself." he grunted as Wakko, with the help of Yakko, pulled him up.
"What are you doing up here? I thought you said you weren't allowed to leave the lab." Yakko asked, peering around him to make sure they were still alone.
"I was called up to Smokey's office to bring him some more samples of a new strain of ink I've been working on. I would have preferred more of a notice, however," he said with a humph. "They treat me like a wet nurse on call."
"That's... unfortunate," Yakko shrugged awkwardly. "And I don't know how much of this stuff is going to make it up to Smokey." he pointed to the shattered viles on the ground that were mixed among the few that had managed to survive.
"Of course this would happen. It is just that kind of a day, I suppose." Von Drake sighed.
Wakko, feeling bad that this was partially his fault, knelled down and scanned the ground for the few viles that were still intact. He reached for one that was surrounded by a pool of brown liquid, careful not to touch it. Von Drake hadn't really gone into the effects of the ink, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. But as he leaned forward to grab the vile, he began to tip over and lurched his leg forward to catch himself. His heart skipped a beat when he planted his foot on the ground and felt liquid seep between his toes.
"What are you doing?" Von Drake yelled and swiftly dragged him away from the mess. He grabbed his leg, which threw Wakko off balance and sent him tumbling onto the floor, and stared at the bottom of his foot in horror.
"What's wrong? Is he alright?" Yakko said with panic clearly evident in his voice.
"No, no, no- there's nothing I can do..." the duck cried.
Wakko's lips began to tremble, and the uncomfortable rapping in his chest that had been sweltering inside him since they had arrived at the hideout reached its peak. Yet despite the coolness of the liquid against his skin, Wakko didn't feel any different than he usually would. His mind began to clear and he looked up at the duck. What the hell was he talking about?
"Uh... Mr. Von Drake, what's this stuff supposed to do exactly?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"First of all young man, it is 'Professor Von Drake'," the duck tisked and dropped his foot. "And this 'stuff,' as you will, essentially transforms a toon into a paralyzed shell of his or her normal self. This new form of it works instantaneously once it makes contact with a toon's skin." he wiped a hand across his sweaty brow. Wakko shot a confused look at his brother, who seemed to have also caught onto the muttering duck's words.
"Ehh, how instantaneous are we talking here?" Yakko asked and crossed his arms.
"Do I need to shove a dictionary under your snouzer? It's supposed to take effect right away!" the duck gestured a hand towards him.
"Then do you see my dilemma?" Yakko pointed to his brother. "I don't know about you, but Wakko looks fully functioning to me." Von Drake stared back and forth between him and Wakko and drew his mouth into a thin line after assessing the younger Warner for a moment.
"Hmmm, you are correct. But why is that?" he leaned down and carefully picked up one of the undamaged test tubes. His eyes shot opened once he examined the liquid inside of it and he quickly shoved the remaining viles into his lab coat pockets.
"What's wrong?" Yakko asked, unfolding his arms and straightening his stance.
"This is the wrong prototype..." Von Drake muttered as he took a rag out of his pocket and placed it on the ground to sop up the remaining liquid.
"What's wrong with that one, Professor?" Wakko stood up.
"No! No more questions- I'm very late and must be going!" the duck glanced around the hallway and took off back toward his lab. Wakko looked down at what was left of the mess in front of him and reached for a unbroken vile Von Drake had missed.
"Wait, professor, you forgot one!" he called after the duck, who was quickly fading off into the distance.
"Not this is any sort of news flash, but I think he's long gone, Wak," Yakko said and peered down at the vile in his hand. "Is there anything written on it?"
"I don't know, it's covered in goo," Wakko said. Without looking at it, he wiped it off against his pants and put the vile in his pocket. "I'll give it back to him next time we see him. I'm sure he'll pop up again." Wakko snorted and turned around.
"Fair, enough," Yakko said. "C'mon, let's get going."
"Nice of you to finally join us." Tango snarled as he opened the door to Smokey's office and stepped aside for Bosko and Oswald, who were both breathing heavily and tempted to slump down in the comfy leather chairs in front of Smokey's desk. The look on Smokey's face, however, kept them firmly rooted in the spots they were currently standing in.
"Do you think I have an endless disposal of time at my fingers? That all I do is sit around here and wait for your precious asses all day? Because thanks to you two fairies, I'm gonna be late for a very important meeting." Smokey glared.
"We can always come back later-" Oswald said before getting cut off by the toon in front of him.
"Do you know who these two are?" Smokey nodded towards two teens standing against the wall on the side of the room.
"No." Bosko responded, nervously twisting his hands behind his back.
"They're the relief for our special guest's guards. But according to them, those guards weren't there when they went to cover their break earlier," he started.
"Yeah, like, no one was there." said the taller one.
"It was totally a desert." added the other.
"And according to the other guards, a short inkblot toon showed up to replace them earlier than usual- instead of these regular goons. Care to explain?" Smokey seethed, loudly rapping his fingers against his desk. "And be very, very considerate in how you answer me."
"Alright, I went to check in on the rabbit." Bosko answered.
"Why the hell would you do that after I gave you clear and specific instructions to stay clear of the bastard?" Smokey yelled.
"I wanted to make sure he was still alive and... stuff." shrugged Bosko, not knowing how to put what he wanted to say into words.
"Do we need to strap a heart monitor to him and blast it through the speakers then? Or how about this- do what I say and I'll keep you up to date." Smokey slammed a hand on his desk and sent a shock wave through Bosko, who put his hands up.
"Look, I'm sorry-"
"Sorry don't cut it around here, and you should know that." Smokey glared at him. "I expect more from you, but obviously you can't do shit!"
"What the hell are you talkin' about! I've put my neck on the line for you countless times since I got here-"
"And not once have you thanked me. Me- the toon who caught the rabbit that stole your career. You should be grateful at the very least!" Smokey responded.
"Oh yeah, like I'm the only reason why you wanted him." Bosko shook his head.
He wanted to shoot a scathing retort at the rat; tell him why he had to defy him and why he shouldn't be treated like he was being at the moment, or even over the past few days. He felt like the entire place looked at him like some insignificant puppet, but by god he wasn't. If he could only tell him how he really felt- yet feeling Oswald put a hand on his sleeve made him seethe in his anger and desperation silently.
"Don't go questioning me now." Smokey practically growled.
"Alright, I was wrong to say that and I was wrong to visit the rabbit," Bosko sighed, not wanting to anger the rat any further. "I am grateful for what you've done for me and Oswald, and I swear I won't go against you." he swallowed.
"I'm holding you to that. I-" Smokey said before being interrupted by several frantic knocks on the door. "Holy fuck, now what?"
"Mr. Smokey it is me, Ludwig Von Drake!" a muffled voice traveled through the door.
"Jesus Christ, you'd think I'm runnin' a goddamn bed and breakfast or something," he sighed and waved towards the door. "Let him in."
Bosko watched as the disheveled duck shuffled into the room while holding a tray of beakers and viles that vibrated from his nervous shaking.
"You two can get out now." Smokey nodded towards the two teens leaning against the wall.
"Right on, boss. Catch you later." the shorter one said before they left and Tango, shaking his head, shut the door behind them.
"Do you have the new strain?" Smokey asked testily.
"Yes, I have it right here, just like you-"
"Does it work?" Tango said from beside the door.
"Why yes, but it has only been tested on several toons, which is hardly a large enough sample to thoroughly assess its accuracy." the duck responded as he placed the viles on Smokey's desk.
"That's good enough for me," Smokey picked up one of the viles and swirled it around, staring as the liquid bubbled inside. "That's all, Drake."
"Yes, of course." the duck nervously backed out of the room and scurried down the hallway.
"Who are you gonna use all that stuff on? I thought you said you were using it more sparingly now that you had more control over Toontown." Oswald raised an eyebrow.
"That's another reason why I asked you up here. Wanted to have a little chat with you about our next victim." Smokey chuckled. Oswald glanced at Bosko with apprehension. Bosko took a deep breath and looked into Smokey's beady eyes, resolved to move past the feelings that churned inside of him from earlier.
"Whatever you need, we're here."
