Disclaimer: The characters here belong to Warner Bros. Company, with the exception for Monty's family (excluding his parents, I think, although I gave them names and personalities). Also, Rated T just to be safe, as I don't know how dark it will get.

The Pursuit of Money

by Ana Nicoleta

Chapter 1

The Family Gathering

25th Nov

The foyer inside the Max residence looked absolutely spectacular. As did every other part of the house. After weeks of endless cleaning, decorating, running around, bustling and the servants almost fainting with exhaustion, the mansion finally looked festive and ready for the approaching Thanksgiving. Beautiful ornaments, such as porcelain turkeys, gold and silver pumpkins, carefully carved candlesticks and ruby-colored leaf tinsels decorated the inside. An aromatic autumn fragrance, along with the delicious smell of traditional Thanksgiving food, floated around, hand in hand, like two graceful ballerinas in the middle of their performance. However, there was someone that did not seem to appreciate the wonderful sight, nor the finally peaceful atmosphere.

In said foyer of said wonderful-looking manor, on a fancy-looking pillowed chair, sat a brown-haired teenage boy. His arms were crossed, his brows were furrowed and he kept a deadly glare on the red carpet before him. It could not have been clearer that Montana Max was not at all in the mood for enjoying or celebrating anything at the moment. The reason? A converstation he had earlier that morning with his father.

At first, he could not believe the words that exited his dad's mouth. And even when the man said that their talk was over, ushered him outside his office, told him to go sit in the foyer so he could greet their family when they arrived, then slammed the door in his face, the only thing Monty felt capable of, was staring in disbelief. As he walked away, however, his shock slowly turned to anger and, by the time he got to the foyer, he was already fuming. But, since there was nothing he could have done at the moment, he merely sat down and replayed the incident in his head, over and over again.

You have to stop acting like a spoiled child and learn to be more responsible, he remembered his father saying. In a few years you'll be old enough to run our family business and for that you need improve your attitude. That is why I will assign someone from our family to mentor you and help you become the businessman that now you are not. Annoyance bubbled inside him at the memory of those words. Stop acting like a spoiled child? Improve his attitude? Have a family member mentor him? The businessman he was not? What was with all that nonsense?! How DARE his father even suggest something like that?! To begin with, he was not a spoiled brat! Just because he whined whenever somethingdidn't go his way, shouted when he wanted something he couldn't have, threw world-class temper tantrums, it didn't mean- . . . Okay, maybe he was a little spoiled. But, despite all his whims, Monty wasn't clueless when it came to money and how to make more of it. After all, he was in charge of THREE factories that belonged to the family corporation AND he had also started his own business, "Toys R Mine", that he ran all by himself. He was doing just fine and he certainly didn't need or want somebody, relative or not, teach him things he already knew. There was only one person he would accept as a mentor and that was Yosemite Sam, no one else ever. Besides, what if this "attitude improvement" thing meant that some other restrictions will be applied, like no more giant weekly allowance or buying whatever he wanted? That would be a nightmare! He needed to talk to his father as soon as he got the chance and make him change his mind.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of a car braking hard interrupted his pondering. Getting up, he walked over to the window and saw his white limousine parked in the driveway. Grovely, his butler, got out of the driving seat and opened the back-seat door. Out stepped two people, a man and a woman.

Monty sighed. Apparently, two of his family members had already arrived. Without waiting to hear the doorbell ring, he opened the wooden oak doors and stepped aside.

The first to step in was the man. Dressed elegantly, as usual, he was wearing an expensive costume, covered by a fancy overcoat. His slick black hair was carefully combed back, and his clean mustache rested neatly on his face, perfectly complimenting his strong features. He simply emanated style and charm.

Right after him, entered the woman, who was holding a briefcase. Although she was only in her early thirties, she looked much older than that. Her thin face, with prominent cheek-bones, had a serious expression all the time and small wrinkles that should not have been there, only until later. Despite her energetic walking, her eyes were filled with tiredness and stress . Also, in her dark hair, tied up in an impeccable bun, a small white streak could be spotted. Just like her older brother, she was also dressed fashionably, with a thick fur coat. But not even that could conceal how tense her body was.

Behind the two of them, Grovely made his way inside, carrying some pretty heavy luggage, but no one paid him any mind.

"Hello, Uncle Nigel. Hi, Aunt Lydia." Said Monty, sounding a bit bored. He was so used to them showing up at the mansion on a regular basis, that he knew there was no need to be formal, like he was with the rest of the family.

"Hello, Monty." Said Nigel, taking off his overcoat. "Where's your father?"

"In his office, where else?" Answered the boy, not even looking at his uncle, still feeling grouchy.

"Very well, then. We can start the work right away. Hopefully we'll be done by the time the others arrive. You have the documents, right?" Nigel asked, turning to his sister.

"Got them right here." Said Lydia, holding up the briefcase.

Nigel nodded and opened his mouth to say something else, but a trenchant voice didn't let him.

"Nigel! Lydia! What took you so long?!" From the top of the stairs Richard Max hastily made his way down.

If Nigel looked charismatic and Lydia looked grave, then Richard, the eldest out of the Max siblings, looked powerful. From his broad figure and his straight posture, to his cold expression and golden ring with a capital M carved on it, everything about him emitted authority and importance. Monty resembled him in appearance a lot. They had the same bone structure, the same glaring eyes, the same chocolate-brown hair, though Richard's was more well-groomed. The only notable differences between the two, were the man's lack of buck-teeth and the neat brown beard that covered his chin and cheeks.

Only once he was standing before his two siblings he spoke again, this time not so sharply, but nevertheless severely. "I've been waiting for you for ages. Do you have the documents?"

"Of course we do." Nigel said. "That's why we were late in the first place. It took forever to get them, but we managed it." He finished with a sly smirk, then gestured for Lydia to hand the briefcase to their brother, which she did.

"The papers in here state the land on Hilly Hill is ours." She explained. "According to these, we legally own it, which means we can start building another factory there."

"Excellent." Richard said, with a smile. He opened the briefcase and pulled out one of the papers, gazing upon it. "Here it says that there are two villages on that hill. Poor people." He added, though his voice held no empathy. "Such bad luck to find themselves on my land." He put the paper back in and closed the case.

"What are we gonna do about them?" asked Nigel, although his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

"We'll just have to demolish the houses and send everyone to the ACME Homeless Shelter in the city." Richard said calmly.

He started to walk away, back to his office, followed by his two siblings. But, suddenly, as if remembering something, he turned to face them. "Oh, and one more thing. Later, we'll have to discuss something important about Monty."

Hearing his name, Monty turned his head and glared at his father. He hadn't really paid attention to the conversation, but he knew what this was about. He opened his mouth to give his dad a piece of his mind, but Lydia cut him before he could even utter a word.

"Why does it have to wait? Can't you tell us now?"

Richard promptly shook his head. "Absolutely not. The rest of the family is going to arrive any minute now. I'll have to greet them, talk to them and I can't have any of them interrupt us. Plus, I don't want them to hear anything."

Both Nigel and Lydia looked perplexed at that answer. What could possibly be so important that Richard wanted to keep a secret from the rest of the family? But, they chose to not push any further, a smart move.

Richard looked over at his son, acknowledging his presence for the first time since he entered the room. "You stay here, Monty, and greet the rest of the guests. If they ask where I am, tell them I'll be down in a minute. Your mother will probably join you in a short while." And with that, he finally turned around and marched upstairs, with Nigel and Lydia right behind him, leaving the boy, once again, alone.

Monty scoffed. This for sure wasn't over. Once he was alone with his father, he will talk to him and he will convince him that the whole "mentoring" stuff was just a big load of baloney. Not only that he didn't need it, but he doubted that any of his relatives wanted to do it. Seriously, who would want to play the babysitter instead of helping Mr. Max run one of the biggest companies in the world? He certainly wouldn't.

About ten minutes later, which seemed like hours, the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway pulled Monty out of his thoughts, for the second time that day. Sighing, he got up and peeked out the window again. There was another limousine outside, not unlike his, if only smaller. Just like the last time, a butler (that did not work for him) got out and went to open the door for his employers. Monty didn't need to look anymore. He already knew who it was.

"Monty, who is that?" A voice, this time belonging to a woman, called from the top of the stairs.

The boy turned to see the slim figure of his mother. Angelina Max looked dashing, as always, even while hurrying down the stairs. She wore a blue satin dress that reached a bit past her knees, and a set of diamond jewelry Richard had bought her some time ago. It consisted of earrings, a necklace, a bracelet and some clamps she had apparently used to clip her cinnamon-brown hair.

"Hold your horses, Ma. It's just Uncle Gabriel, not the President. And I think he's brought that fiancee of his, whatever her name was."

Looking at his mom, who was now checking her make-up in the golden-framed mirror on the wall, he asked a little bewildered. "Did you seriously prepare yourself that much for these people? They're not even that important."

"Hush, Monty. They might hear you and if they do, I'm cutting your allowance."

Monty rolled his eyes and was about to retort in some way but, just then, the doorbell chimed: MON-EY! Not even a second later, Grovely appeared near them and gracefully opened the door.

In front of them stood Gabriel Max, the youngest of the siblings, arm linked with a beautiful woman, possibly in her mid twenties.

Unlike his brothers and sister, who all inspired respect and importance, Gabriel simply looked. . . ridiculous, to put it bluntly. Despite his desperate attempts to seem richer and more significant than he actually was, he just came off as exaggerated and foolish. The family knew he didn't do much for the corporation, that he bought clothes which looked more expensive than they actually were, and they all suspected that his fiancee was with him just because he was the most available one. And of course, there were also his features: the oval-shaped face, light-brown curls and sky blue eyes gave him a feminine aspect, and his frail body made everyone think that the wind could blow him away any second. All of these combined, turned Gabriel into a buffoon and the family's laughing-stock. Monty had lost count of how many times he heard his father and Nigel joke about their younger brother behind the man's back. And the fact that Gabriel didn't even realize it only added to their amusement.

As for the woman, she indeed looked way out of Gabriel's league. She was absolutely gorgeous, tall and fit, and judging by her sharp jawline, olive complexion and wavy black hair, Monty guessed she must've been from the Mediterranean or Latin America. Another thing he noticed was her outfit. It looked very expensive, but, given his experience and knowledge regarding clothes from famous brands, he could tell immediately it was just a cheaper version of the original. Well, looks like when it comes to clothes, they really are on the same page, Monty thought.

Angelina was the first one that spoke.

"Gabriel! How nice to see you!" She went over to him and they hugged.

"It's nice to see you, too." Gabriel said, in a soft voice that matched his appearance, which on its own had earned him years of bullying from his siblings.

"And I see you brought your fiancee as well." Angelina added, then shook the woman's hand. "How nice to meet you. I'm Angelina Max, Gabriel's sister-in-law."

The woman smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Angelina. I'm Olympia Achreios."

Olympia indeed had a peculiar accent, just like her name, which confirmed Monty's suspicion that she was non-American. However, he could not put his finger or where exactly she was from.

The couple was invited to step in and, after Grovely took their coats, Monty greeted them as well, more out of fear of what Angelina might do if he didn't behave, rather than out of respect.

"What a charming, well-mannered young man." Olympia said, as they shook hands. Despite the compliment, Monty had to stop himself from frowning in suspicion. Something about the woman's tone seemed somewhat fake and strained, as if she was forcing herself to smile and be polite.

Thankfully, his mother put an end to the awkward situation. "Why don't you two make yourselves comfortable in the salon?" She suggested. "Grovely will show you the way. Me and Monty will also join you in a short while and then you can tell us a bit about your relationship."

After smiling at them one more time, the couple went away, arm in arm, with Grovely leading the way to the living room.

Once they were out of sight, Angelina spoke. "What a two-faced bimbo."

"So, I understand you don't like her much?" Monty asked, ironically.

"Of course I don't. Didn't you see the way she smiled? The way she talked? Her compliments? She's so fake."

"Faker than her outfit." Monty commented.

The faint trace of a smile cruised Angelina's face. "So you noticed too?"

"How could I not? It's as obvious as her accent. By the way, where's she from?"

"Greece." Was his mother's answer. "She comes from a wealthy family, from what I've understood. But her father spent all their money on parties and such, so their business went bankrupt."

Monty clicked his tongue. "Tough life. So she came here and Dad hired her for the company, right?"

"Yes. That's how she and Gabriel met. They were working in the same department. At first, she didn't know he was from our family, so she didn't really payed attention to him. Then, one day, Rich came to talk to him while she was there and she realized it somehow. And what do you know? Next day, she was all smiles around Gabriel. And after a week, boom, first date." Angelina finished, a bit dramatically.

Monty looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "Ma, how do you know all this?"

"One of your father's secretaries told me the whole story. I went to his office to drop some papers and she was all alone, so we gossiped for a while." Then, with a smirk, she added. "Those women really know everything that goes on there."

Monty shook his head. Count on his mother to always know everything about everyone. After a while, Angelina announced that she was going in the salon to keep the guests company.

"You stay here until you father's cousin and his family arrive." She ordered.

"No, Ma! I don't wanna stay here anymore. It's boring! Please, let me go with you." Monty whined, but to no avail.

"No, Monty. Stay here and when they come, be sure to greet them politely," She said with emphasis. "And then bring them in the salon."

Rolling his eyes, Monty agreed to it, before watching his mother disappear behind the marble walls and the golden-framed doors.

The boy grabbed the chair he had sat on in the morning and dragged it near to the window, so he wouldn't have to get up every time he wanted to look at what was happening outside. He sat down and glanced out the window.

The two white limos were parked in the driveway. The butler who worked for his uncle and future aunt was taking out the luggage from the smaller one. It was quite a lot for only a few days of staying, but, since Monty was used to such a sight (being rich himself, he knew how tempting it was to pack more than you needed), he did not question it. Taking his eyes off the servant, he looked at the leaf-covered grounds.

Autumn had chosen to redecorate her temporary home and so, she had laid down a brand new red carpet, similar to the velvet ones on his mansion's marble floors. The naked trees, whose dry branches had been cut off, stood tall, like the wooden soldier ornaments one could often find in a nursery room. The pumpkins, unlike the ones inside, were real and therefore, not made out of silver or gold. Instead, they bared their natural color of light orange. It was the same as Elmyra's hair.

Catching himself thinking of the girl, he couldn't help but wonder what was she doing. Last evening, he had talked to her over the phone and she had (over-excitingly) told him her family's plans for Thanksgiving. Getting together, cooking, playing games, watching a movie and the like. It was very simple, Max had noticed, and very different from what he was used too. To him, Thanksgiving (or any other holiday for that matter) was nothing more than an occasion to go to a fancy party or get together with relatives and discuss business. That was always the topic. Well, that and other hot gossip about other family members that weren't present or other rich people and corporations that they were competing with. Monty had never watched a movie or played a game with someone from his family, not even with his parents. Even in his early years, they were just too busy for him. No, this household was very different from Elmyra's. Here, the roles were split very clearly: the servants, such as Grovely, took care of him and his Mom and Dad – although it was his Mom mostly – gave him everything he wanted (materially speaking). It had been like that since he could remember.

But, despite the simplicity of Elmyra's holiday habits, her description of them had made him very curious of what it was like in her home. Although Monty supposed he would detest it, since he was used to grandeur and pomp, he was still intrigued.

The limo's trunk slammed shut and the butler started carrying the luggage inside the house, using the servants' door this time. Just then, Monty spotted in the distance, right at the opened gates which led to the mansion, a car approaching relatively fast. It was not a limo, but it still looked luxurious, nevertheless.

Monty sighed. Whatever Elmyra is doing right now, I wish I was in her place, so I wouldn't have to do this, he thought.

"Grovely!" He shouted. As usual, the butler was beside him immediately. Monty merely pointed to the doors and the man, understanding why he had been called, went near them.

Not even a minute later, the doorbell sang its tune and Grovely, once again, opened the doors.

As he had anticipated, the last relatives expected to arrive stood in front of him. Charles Max, his father's cousin, hadn't changed a bit since the last time Monty had seen him. He was still short and chubby, with the same double chin, the same round belly and the same patch of black hair on top of his small head. From his pocket, a package of buck cigars plainly stuck out – a sign he hadn't quit his unhealthy habits – and on his finger, the same golden ring with a carved M that Richard wore gleamed in the daylight – a sign of the power he held within the company.

Beside him, his wife Celestine had also remained unchanged. She was glamorous as usual, with perfect golden hair, fair skin and angelic features, complimented by a friendly expression. Despite this, Monty had known her for way too long to fall for it.

Lastly, their son, Zachary, who was around the same age as him, stood in-between them. His hair of the same color as his mother's was gelled backwards in such a way that made Monty think a cow had licked it in order for it to look like that. His steel gray eyes were glaring at his second cousin, as if telling him 'I hate being here and I hate you.'

Normally, Max would have 'greeted' Zachary with as much warmth as his metal eyes held at the moment. But, thinking of the received warnings and seeing as the boy's parents were there as well, he swallowed whatever snarky remark he might've had and said, as cheery as he could. "Hello and welcome everyone. Come in! Grovely, take their coats and then go help the driver unpack the car."

After greetings were exchanged and Grovely was out of sight, Monty and the others started heading to the living room.

There, they found his mother in the middle of a discussion with her in-laws. The smile on her face was one Monty knew too well. It was the Pretend-Smile, as he liked to call it. She used it whenever she needed to act like she was enjoying something, usually someone's company, when in fact she despised anything that had to do with that person. She had taught him as well how to Pretend-Smile and it proved to be useful when he found himself in delicate situations (the sort of situations where he couldn't shout at or threaten whoever was annoying him, like he normally would have, but instead had to act nice and polite).

The moment they set foot in the room, Angelina turned her head towards them and Pretend-Smiled in their direction. She got up and shook hands with Charles, who Pretend-Smiled back. Then, her and Celestine hugged and they both Pretend-Smiled at each other. Finally she greeted Zachary, but he didn't Pretend-Smile at all. He simply mumbled what could only pass as a 'Hello', then sat down on a pillowed chair. Following his example, his parents sat down as well, near him. Gabriel and Olympia were already sitting on the couch, and Angelina took her place on the armchair in front of them.

Monty was also about to take a sit, but his mother stopped him. "Monty, why don't you go upstairs and bring your father and the others around?"

He felt like he was going to explode. Just when he wanted to sit down and relax, his mother was sending him away again. What was he, the messenger of the house?! He was about to retort in some way, but he saw the absolutely terrifying (yet subtle) look Angelina sent him, the 'behave-or-I'll-cut-your-allowence' look.

Sighing, Monty simply nodded and started heading towards his Dad's office. Unfortunately, it was quite far from the salon, so, even if he took the elevator, it was going to take him a good five minutes to get there.

As he was walking, he suddenly remembered that dreadful morning. Not even three hours ago, he had been strolling down the hallway, heading to the same place he was right now, without even a clue of the horrible news his father was going to give him. He frowned, those words filling his head again and reminding him of the freedom limitation his Dad wanted to impose. But. . . maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he hadn't yet told Nigel and Lydia about it. Maybe he still could convince his father to give up his silly ideas. Monty's head perked up a bit, realizing something. This was his chance! He could talk to Dad right now and everything would be alright! Feeling more confident, he marched forward, a little more energetically, up until he stood in front of Richard's office.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked. A cold, unmistakable voice told him to come in. Monty opened the door and found, as he had expected, his Dad, sitting in his chair at his desk, looking over some papers, with Nigel standing beside him. Lydia was seated on a small couch, near them, and was also reading something on her own. All three of them raised their gazes and looked at him.

"The whole family is here." He said simply, hoping that Nigel and Lydia would leave first, so he could remain alone with his father.

His prayers were answered, because Richard immediately told his siblings to go without him, while he stayed behind and put some papers back. The two did as they were told and walked past Monty, out of the office and towards the living room.

Richard was sorting out some important documents, his head bowed, looking at the table. Monty inhaled again. Ok, it's now or never, he thought.

"Hey, Dad. I wanna speak to you about something."

Richard lifted his forehead. "Talk to me? About what." His voice was as icy and as indifferent as always.

"About this morning." Monty said, not wanting to be intimidated. "Listen, Dad, I don't need anyone to teach me things I kn-"

"Son, stop right there." Richard cut him off. "This morning I told you what was going to happen. I did not ask what you think and I don't want to know what you think. Things are already settled."

Monty's face dropped. "W-What do you mean? You already talked to Uncle Nigel and Aunt Lydia?!"

"No, not yet." The man answered calmly. "We were rather busy. But I will, later, and one of them will mentor you. Be sure of that."

Richard put all the papers away and went to the door. Now, if Monty would have been rational and not so impulsive, he would have dropped the subject and accepted his fate. But, the problem of course was that Monty was not at all rational and very impulsive.

"Dad, you can't do this! I don't need those lessons! I already know everything about the business world!"

"Oh, believe me, son, you need them. And, no, you don't know everything about the business world. If you did, then you wouldn't let your emotions guide you and lose as much money as you do and in such irresponsible ways. Now, let's go-"

"NO!" Max shouted. "I only lose money because I can't win against those stupid rabbits, not because of me! You can't possibly blame-"

"Oh, but I can blame you and I already have. Now, enough of thi-"

"You can't do this! I am not going to accept it!"

"Frankly, Monty, I don't care-"

"You'll be sorry if you go through with this! I'll protest! I'll go on strike! I'll sue! I'LL-"

"MONTY! THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Monty froze, taken aback by Richard's yell. Quickly realizing his mistake, he recomposed himself and lowered his eyes, not wanting to meet his father's glare.

"Don't speak to me like that, young man! I'm you father, not one of your classmates that you can walk over the way you please, so talk to me like you should! Understand?!"

Monty nodded. Hid Dad's tone was as sharp as a knife and he didn't want to press it any further. After all, he had seen how scary Richard could be whenever he got angry (really angry) at a servant or an employee.

"Good." Richard had toned down his volume, but, his tone was, nevertheless, frightening. "Now, let's go downstairs and sit with the others. After that, you will come with me, Nigel and Lydia back here and we will decide exactly how your lessons will go."

And, without another word, Mr. Max turned around and marched out the office, followed by an unusually quiet Monty.

The walk back to the living room was quiet. Richard kept his eyes forward, his expression as hard as stone, not even looking at his son and Monty was too scared to initiate a conversation. Also, his pride kept him from apologizing. Despite agreeing with his Dad to drop the subject, in his mind he was still the one that was right. He was just too afraid to voice it anymore.

Finally, they got to the salon. Angelina was seated on the armchair, like she had been when Monty had left. Gabriel and Olympia were still on the couch and Nigel and Lydia had taken a sit near them as well. Charles and Celestine sat down on two chairs and Zachary sat between them, on a third one. He was the only one that didn't have the Pretend-Smile on his face.

Everyone exclaimed gleefully when Richard entered, greeting him warmly. The man merely nodded in their direction and sat down on the other armchair, next to his wife. Then, turning to Monty, he gestured for the boy to sit down as well, on a small, backless chair.

Not wanting anymore trouble, he obeyed. As he did so, everyone (except his second cousin, who still looked grouchy) started talking about who-knows-what adult stuff. Meanwhile, Monty's thoughts wandered, far away from whatever they were discussing, thinking only of how his life might change because of the whole mentoring thing. Will these lessons interfere with his day to day life that much? Will they be like school? Will he have less free time? Will he also not be able to do other things, like buying luxuries and enjoying his wealth? Was he going to have his allowance taken away from him completely? And, as he sat there, caught between his relatives' endless rambling and his spiraling thoughts, Monty realized that all he could do at the moment, was just wait and see.