DREW

"Howlers," I repeated as I stared out the window. "What do they do exactly?"

"Oh?" said Kate. "Nothing much. Just destroy people's vehicles, kill the driver and steal things."

"That doesn't sound very family friendly," I said. "I thought cartoons aren't supposed to die."

"Not every doodle is immortal," she said. "Doodles come in two breeds: Heavies and Lights. Lights are like Bugs Bunny. Heavies are more serious, and are susceptible to death. Anime characters, for example. And then there's an ore called Erasium, which can kill any doodle.

"Howlers carry weapons made from Erasium."

"Wonderful," I groaned. "What other little surprises have you not warned me about?"

"I told you you needed that gun."

I unholstered the weapon, staring at it.

It was a real gun. It looked like something the Lone Ranger would carry around. White handled six shooter with a long barrel, and it was realistically weighty.

"You are aware that I've never even seen a real shooting range?"

Kate groaned. "Have you at least practiced at 7-11?"

"Maybe?"

She shook her head. "Do what you can. Noid weapons have a fifty fifty chance of killing a doodle. Howlers are part Light, part Heavy. Cross your fingers."

The whole compartment rocked, nearly throwing me to the floor.

"We have crossed a dune," the computer announced. "Sensors detecting seven unidentified vehicles, presumed hostile."

The business end of a harpoon exploded from a wall.

"Hostility confirmed," the machine said. "Switching to evasive driving mode."

Chips swerved fast enough to throw me onto the dash.

I peered out the window. Directly ahead, I could see a Nissan Z convertible with metal plates nailed over its sides. A couple gray howler monkeys in protective hubcap and padlock key chain mail stood up on the rear seat, brandishing guns. Behind them, I could see the driver, an ape with a glass dome for a skull, the transparency displaying its multicolored brains.

At ten o'clock, towards the driver's, I saw an open roofed mustang occupied by gorillas.

At 3:00, a dune buggy, manned by a baboon with giant metal shark teeth.

At nine, I saw a chimp on a dirt bike. More vehicles rumbled around the corner, out of view.

Seeing a gun aimed at me, I ducked just a second before a bullet cracked the window.

I glanced back in the bedroom and saw a pair of rubber clad legs disappearing up the staircase. Kate was, undoubtedly, playing action hero.

I heard a rattling sound. Spent shell casings tumbled down the steps.

When I hurried over to the stairs, I found Kate crouched in the ball turret, blasting something at 4:00. I could hear apes screaming.

"Open a kill hole and start firing!" Kate shouted down.

I swallowed. "And where are those?"

She sighed in frustration. "Ask Chips."

When I turned around, I suddenly noticed a slot opening next to a bookcase, beyond which I could see a pair of gray apes in a jeep piloted by what appeared to be Virgil from the Planet of the Apes, an orangutan in an orange rubber vest.

The gray ones wore armor made of German and Asian coins, the type with a hole in the center, wired together to make chain mail.

Yep, I thought. If this is the land of the lost stuff, money would have to be the biggest import, as the bus stations and washing machines and couches of the world would attest. I didn't know for a fact it was lost, I mean, a good cleaning could uncover some of the lost things in the world, but I did know that the stuff didn't look animated, and it had to come from somewhere. It opened several questions in my mind, but this wasn't a good time to have a philosophical discussion.

One thing I did know: If I wanted to knock off one of those gray apes, I'd need to aim for the head.

The stereo was now playing Asleep at the Wheel by the Bloodhound Gang.

Deciding it was a bad idea to kill a presumably peace loving creature, I aimed for one of Virgil's gun toting pals, pulling the trigger.

Of course I missed. The gun kicked and hit air instead of the ape's head.

Aim low. I should have learned that lesson back in Cub Scouts, when we were shooting BB guns.

The gray ape growled angrily, firing a machine gun at me.

I ducked, but the bullets ripped through the bulkhead like pencils through tissue paper.

Erasium. I figured it might not hurt me, but I didn't want to test my theory.

"Get back," I heard Kate hissing behind me.

No sound of feet on metal. It was almost like she had learned stealth techniques from cartoon characters.

"I didn't hear you come down," I said.

"I know," she replied.

"But how-?"

She didn't let me finish. "No time. Move."

I got back, flinching as I heard the gun turret going off upstairs...by itself.

Kate reached into her top, pulling out a pair of glowing Mickey Mouse gloves. This she pulled over her hands, wiggling all four digits.

Four. Not five.

"Kay?" I said.

She slid a metal plate away from part of a bulkhead, revealing an armadillo in a cage. "Huh?"

"Your gloves have only four fingers. Where are your pinkies?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. They come back when the gloves are off."

She then removed the animal from its cage.

I frowned. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," she said.

"This isn't Mario Kart," I said. "They have guns."

Kate just laughed and flipped open the lid to a torpedo tube that...wasn't there before, shoving the creature inside.

She slid open a small window, rapidly repositioned the tube with a pair of hand cranks, fired the `torpedo.'

A second later, I heard shrieks. Through the bullet holes, I saw the armadillo impacting one of the gray apes, causing instant leprosy. Unrealistic, yes, but I wasn't complaining.

The non-leprous ape tried to shove the leper off the vehicle, but in touching him, the other caught it, then Virgil caught it from him.

The jeep swerved, hit a sand dune, and flipped over, tires spinning in the air.

Kate removed the gloves, stuffing them into her top, below her cleavage.

"Wait," I said. "Won't that make your breasts...?"

"They haven't yet."

It seemed the animators there did not have OCD. "Well thank God for that!"

Something went "Poo poo poo!" and the whole vehicle rocked. Kate pushed a button on one of our monitors, and I saw the chimp on the dirt bike...spitting fireballs at us.

It reminded me of a video game character I saw somewhere. "As if this place couldn't get any weirder."

"I know," she said. "Toki used to be such a nice monkey."

She opened the driver's side window, fired off a few rounds, and the chimp went flying off his motorcycle, into the dirt.

I looked around and saw boots stomping up the stairs again.

"Five vehicles remaining," Chips said.

I heard something clank against the side of our ride, then a hole appeared in the bulkhead along the passenger side.

When I crept over that way, I saw the monkey with the metal teeth ripping more metal away with its mouth.

I pointed my gun in its face, pulling the trigger.

Jaws caught the bullet in its teeth, swallowing it.

I fired two more shots, but they didn't go anywhere either. In fact, the creature bit off the barrel of my gun.

The monkey jumped through the hole, tackling me to the floor as it tried to bite my head off.

I held it away from me, but it wasn't easy with all that biting.

I punched the thing in the face a few times, but it snapped its teeth at me, so I rolled over, beating the creature against the floor.

That's when a pair of baboons popped through the hole to assist their comrade.

Before I could prepare myself, one of them hit me in the head with a shamanic conjuring staff, knocking me away from Jaws.

I staggered, trying to keep my footing, but a pile of books, including The Butterfly and the Diving Bell, Walden by Henry David Thoreau and something from the Barsoom trilogy went sliding underfoot, threatening to knock me to the floor. I had to kick aside a copy of Left Hand of Darkness to remain standing.

The baboon swung again, but I caught the staff when it hit me, using it to hurl the monkey out the hole.

Of course, as I'm doing that, I'm also dodging both Jaws and the other baboon. While I watched the dune buggy rolling over the baboon's head, the fist of the surviving one hit me in the face, and Jaws tried to snap my throat open.

I turns out the birds I had previously dislodged with my beating cartoon heart had somehow gotten back into my suit, for they, startled by the toothy attacker, chose to burst out of my pocket, fluttering and pecking at his eyes.

"Thank you!" I breathed.

A smaller bird whistled warningly, pointing a wing at the baboon swinging a staff at my head.

I ducked, and when I stood back up, I noticed Kate pushing past me with a container of black pepper, which she dumped into her hand and blew upon.

The pepper dispersed into my assailants' faces, and they sneezed so hard that they went flying out into the wasteland. The driverless dune buggy careened off into a mound of sand.

Stick that into your Circle of Life! I thought.

I turned around to speak to Kate, but she was gone again.

Since the driver's side was unoccupied, I peeked around the seat to find a black van manned by gorillas in leather armor firing a Gatling gun out the sliding door. Its bullet ridden panels and obliterated vacant rooftop cannon indicated it had been what Kate had been shooting at all this time.

The gorillas gave me a nasty grin, and the Gatling gun ripped through the windshield and drivers' window.

I briefly wondered if this were just an average day for Kate, or if someone had it out for her.

I supposed both could be true.

The soundtrack changed to Flash of the Blade by Iron Maiden.

My turret gunner picked off one of the gorillas, but then I heard her shouting, "I'm out! Go get the Law's Rifle!"

Seeing a missile launcher on a rack, I took it down, and when I turned to look for Kate, she was already taking the weapon out of my hands.

"How did you get to be so fast?" I asked. "You're like the Road Runner!"

She giggled. "Thank you. I think it's...all these years of eating cartoon food. Do me a favor. Grab a gun off the wall and watch the passenger side."

Nodding, I pulled a rifle and some shells off the wall. When I turned around, she was already in the front seat, pointing the launcher.

Boom! The explosion rocked our armored carrier, but I didn't have the luxury of checking to see what happened. My birds were pointing at a Land Shark rolling up alongside me, a car bearing a sock monkey with a pistol, an Uzi bearing Caesar from Planet of the Apes, and King Louie from The Jungle Book.

I chambered a round, waited for them to get within my sights, then blew a hole in the sock monkey.

I know. Lucky shot.

Well, not really.

Being a sock money has its advantages. The thing was completely unphased.

The sock monkey blasted a hole in my suit, grazing my shoulder.

I ducked behind a bulkhead, popped in a couple shells, and waited.

No shots were fired. I thought it was safe at first, but as soon as I tried to peer around the corner, someone tried to blow my head off.

I laid flat, crawling beneath the ragged chunk of metal that Jaws had left untouched.

Mustering my courage, I readied the rifle, popped up, and fired indiscriminately.

At the very same time, I saw Caesar firing right at my head.

I ducked back down, but it was too late. I had felt something wet exploding from my head, warm liquid trickling down my face.

I touched the wound, stared at my fingers.

The blood was an unnatural neon red, making me think about how they said Officer Harris became a doodle.

Well, Vanessa, I thought. I guess we'll be together after all.

But then I noticed the fat blue object sprawled on the floor next to me.

It was the baritone Car-X bird. The apes had blown several large holes in his little body, bright blood pouring out the wounds.

I touched my forehead again and suddenly realized that my skull was intact. The blood hadn't been mine...and there were feathers stuck in it. The little guy must have swooped down in the path of the machine gun fire to save my life.

To save me!

"You dumb little bird," I whispered. "Why did you do it?"

The creature shrugged its wings and made a little "I dunno" sound.

That made it worse. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I choked down a sob, trying to retain my composure. "You dumb little bird!"

A cartoon character. Just a bunch of blobs of paint that someone slapped on a piece of transparent plastic, and here I was crying over it. Because the damned thing saved me. Because it somehow thought I was worth dying for.

I unthinkingly wiped my eyes and touched the bird, I guess because I wanted to give him a proper burial or something, but of course we were under attack, so I had more pressing matters to attend to...like living.

"Trouble?" I heard Kate saying behind me.

"I nearly got killed!" I said. "These guys are professionals!"

When she saw the bird, she sniffed and knelt next to it, croaking, "That is so sad!"

She wrapped the bird in a towel, laid it on the bed, and reached for a flintlock. A dubious weapon choice, but I suppose we were running low.

The moment her hand closed around the handle, a two pronged serving fork embedded itself in her wrist. She screamed.

"Kate!" I cried.

I glanced back and saw the source of the attack, a freakish looking white ape with metal goggle things for eyes, and an unusually shaped machine gun loaded with cutlery.

"Are you all right?" I said, but when I looked back at her, she was holding the fork, and her wounded arm didn't appear to be so.

"I'm fine," she said. "This outfit...it's not just a costume." She slapped the wound. "Quick. Close your eyes."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Just do it!" she snapped.

I did what I was told. I heard an animal scream.

When I opened my eyes, I saw her kneeling over the beast's corpse.

She shot me an annoyed glare. "Keep them shut!"

I shut them again.

I heard something explode.

I opened my eyes and found that Kate had disappeared.

Thinking she was up on the turret, I climbed the stairs, but I didn't see anything but an erratically swerving PT Cruiser and the Land Shark banging the side of our vehicle.

I decided, if I ever lived through this thing, I would have to talk to someone about getting me my own super suit like Kate's, preferably one with pants.

When I came down the stairs, I was greeted by gun toting Caesar.

I raised my hands in surrender. "Hey, uh, look. I have nothing against apes. I really don't like fighting. I think apes and humans should live freely, in harmony, without putting anyone in a cage. Oh, and sorry about Virgil and the others. It really wasn't my idea."

Caesar paused, as if giving my speech serious thought, then slapped a cartridge into his gun. "Howlers don't enslave. Howlers kill."

I ducked, but his gun followed me.

As he was squeezing off a burst of automatic fire, I suddenly saw a cloud of yellow feathers obscuring his head, and the bullets went spraying into the bulkhead and the computers instead of me.

Seizing my chance, I charged at the monkey headfirst, bashing him into a wall.

I ripped the gun out of his hands, contemplated shooting him, but then decided against it on the basis of how nice Caesar usually was in the films and cartoons.

Instead I hit him in the head with the butt of his gun, dumping him out the hole in the side of the vehicle.

Sure, it did nothing to improve ape-human relations, and might have ended with his head under someone's tires, but one thing movies and cartoons have taught me is that a villain is not something you want hanging around in your base, even in a holding cell.

Suddenly I noticed a yellow object perching on my shoulder.

It looked like the dead bird.

Exactly like the dead bird.

But yellow.

And alive.

The bird smiled and lovingly nuzzled my neck.

"I couldn't tell you before," Kate said with a smile as she stroked the creature's head. "But when you cry over a dead doodle, sometimes you can bring it back."

I stared at a bullet hole in one of her rubber ears. For some reason it had not knocked off her headdress. "Did you get rid of that Nissan?"

"Not yet," she said.

And then I heard the sound of automatic gunfire.

Kate stiffened. It seemed someone had shot her from behind.

Looking past her, I could see the ape with the exposed brain, a machine gun clenched in its paws.

"Close your eyes," Kate gasped, clearly in pain.

"Why?" I said. "So I won't see you die?"

She shook her head. "Just do it."

Since she was real, I somehow doubted my tears could save her, so I began to despair.

"Why do I have to close my eyes-?"

"No time to explain. Shut your damn eyes!"

Thinking I was giving her last request, I obeyed.

I heard gunfire, an animal shriek, and shattering glass.

When I opened my eyes, I saw her throwing our killer `Mojo Jojo' out the hole.

"So," I said, leaning on a wall next to her. "Tell me this. When I close my eyes, do you change into a superhero? Am I shutting my eyes to protect your secret identity? Or are you using some secret ninja technique that you are forbidden to show me?"

"Yes," she said.

I frowned. "That really doesn't answer my question."

She shook her head. "Now is not the right time."

I raised my hands in surrender. "You're right. Let's get these monkeys taken care of first."

We peered out the hole, but saw nothing but desert.

Kate hurried to the computers, but of course they were shot full of holes.

"Chips!" she shouted. "Status report!"

"My sensors are damaged, but readings suggest no enemy vehicles. Left rear tire is flat, but middle left is holding. Gasoline reservoir is leaking, half a tank remains. Switching to post consumer waste to conserve fuel. Oil adequate, coolant needs refilling but is sufficient. Exterior damage is quite excessive."

"I wonder what happened to the Land Shark?" I muttered.

"Vehicle appears to have made a strategic retreat," Chips said.

"Chips, let's make a repair stop," Kate said.

The vehicle obeyed. "It is a pleasure to serve you."

"We're going to stop in the middle of a desert?" I said.

Kate nodded. "Why not? The repairs have to be made sometime!"

We were in the middle of nowhere, but I supposed she was right. If things weren't fixed, we might not make it...unless, of course, Cool World didn't care about the ordinary minutiae of auto mechanics.

To my chagrin, I saw Kate pulling a paintbrush and a bucket out of a cabinet.

"What are you going to do with that?" I said.

"You'll see."

I followed her out of the vehicle, to the gas tank at the rear, watching as she slapped paint over a row of fuel leaking bullet holes.

"That's not going to-"

I couldn't finish the thought. The holes were gone.

"Okay," I said. "The tank really should have exploded from the bullets anyway."

"It isn't noid gas,"she said as she crawled under the machine, painting over damaged areas. "Doodle gas gets more miles to the gallon."

"So you're just going to paint this thing back in shape?"

"Uh-huh."

I rolled my eyes. "As long as it works."

I watched her paint the flat tire back into shape, then puff on the valve stem...making it inflate.

"You are a superhero," I said. "Aren't you?"

Kate filled the tire and screwed the cap back on. "You read my comics. You should know I'm a superhero. Technically a superheroine, if you want to be proper."

She patted the tire. "Of course, this is a cartoon radial. Even you could probably inflate it." She painted over some more bullet holes.

"I know if the love interest of the superhero or superheroine finds out the superhero's secret identity, they end up getting kidnapped or even killed, but I don't care. I like my relationships to mean something."

"You're dating a stripper," she said, covering another hole.

"You can't tell me that a stripper doesn't occasionally want a meaningful relationship."

Kate sighed, leaning on the side of the vehicle as she gazed into my eyes. "One thing Cool World has taught me is that everything depends on timing."

She wrapped her arms around me, warming me with her breath as her paintbrush dripped down my back. The hole in my suit vanished. "When the right time comes, I fully intend to tell you everything you could possibly want to know about me, and then some. But now is not the time."

"When is the right time?" I asked.

"Tonight," she said. "There are a few things I can only show you then. I want this to be perfect."

I swallowed. "What, are you going to show me the Batcave or something?"

She giggled. "Something like that."

I laughed. "That's right. You have The Bunny Burrow. I completely forgot."

Grinning, she said, "Oh yeah. I could show you that, too."

I stared at her. "That's...not what you're talking about, is it?"

"It could be," she said. "I'll tell you later."

And she marched up to the shattered front section, painting the glass back into place.

"I wish I had something like that in the real world," I said. "All I have is auto insurance."

I watched her open and door and climb up on the driver's seat, painting the rest in.

My golden bird hopped on my shoulder, gently pecking my neck.

I smiled and held him in my hands. "I think we've just become best friends," I said to it. "Do you have a name, little guy?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not contracted for any speaking roles," it said, then covered its mouth in horror.

I smiled. "I won't tell anyone."

And then an idea popped in my head. "How about I call you Extra?"

The bird put a wing tip to its beak in thought, then shook its head.

I opened my mouth, but then it nodded, I guess changing its mind.

"Extra it is, then."

The bird replied by singing You Made Me So Very Happy.

Kate finished repairing our ride, and we both climbed back in, watching the desert pass by as the vehicle resumed its course.

"Do we really have to wait ten minutes?" I said.

"It varies," Kate replied. "And sometimes it's faster if you say hints about scene changes, like `I wonder how So And So is doing' or if you are about to give away too much of the plot before the right scene."

"I'm not a psychic," I said. "So that probably won't work."

I cleared my throat. "Gee, I wonder how dad is doing!"

Nothing happened.

"I think they're wrong," said Kate. "You do look like him. You both look very Italian, what, with that long nose and face, and that dark hair."

"Um, yeah." I said. "I suppose I do get that from him."

"Would it be weird if I told you I found that kind of sexy?"

I swallowed. "No, I suppose not..."

"Tell me something about...your dad. What was he like when he wasn't drawing pictures? What do you remember the most about your father?"

"Honestly?" I said. "It's going to sound strange, but what sticks out in my mind the most is all those times, when, left to his own devices, he'd eat cold hot dogs. He'd take them uncooked from the fridge and scarfing them down without a bun or anything, kind of like an animal. Then there were the plain sandwiches he'd make out of butter and bread. Oh, and he'd squeeze Easy Cheese on his fingers instead of putting it on crackers or something. I think it explains a lot about his lack of restraint."

She laughed. "I take it he wasn't that great of a chef."

I shook my head. "He knows one or two things, but it doesn't quite go beyond the mac and cheese category."

"But you can do better."

I shrugged. "I'm not going to open an eatery, but I know some stuff. I know how to make burgers and fried fish. All I'm saying is, if and when I am reduced to the point of eating raw hot dogs, I'd know that something has gone terribly wrong."

Kate grinned. "I think I've found myself a new chef!"

This made me blush.

I didn't know exactly how to reply to that, so I didn't. I just nodded.

There was an awkward silence.

Feeling something tickling my arm, I looked down and saw that it was an insect.

Not Jiminy Cricket or some other cartoon bug. An actual insect.

No. Wait. It wasn't.

I was looking at a scratch mark made by an ink pen. The legs and feelers were nothing more than lines.

It reminded me of those wispy long legged spiders that crawl down your wall, thinner and wispier than even a Daddy Longlegs, or those mosquito-like strider things that creep down the blinds. It made my flesh crawl.

Shuddering in disgust, I squished the hideous thing into the door.

"Sorry about that," Kate said. "I don't know how those get in."

I sighed, staring at the squished...thing. It was now just a black ink blob on the door, but I kept waiting for it to start moving again.

"Can I ask you a weird question?" Kate asked suddenly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh...I guess?"

"Do you get turned on by failure?"

I stared at her in shock. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I noticed that you kinda, um, frowned and squirmed, you know, sort of sexually, when you were unhappy with your drawing, and I started wondering if that's what it was."

"Um," I stammered, but I was too embarrassed to say more than that.

At last I said, "I think you hang around cartoon villains too much. I really can see some of them getting off on that sort of thing."

"I don't hang around that many villains," she said. "Do you really think that's what it is?"

I frowned. "I don't know."

Another awkward moment.

Perhaps to spare me more embarrassment, she blurted, "You know, sometimes, when I'm trying really hard to do something right, achieve success, whatever, and I find myself failing miserably at something, the frustration, I don't know, sometimes it gets me horny. I'm not sure why that is, it just does. Am I crazy, or do you get that too?"

I frowned. "I...sometimes. Especially when I'm driving and I've missed the job interview and the car's knocking because the tank is empty from me driving around lost..."

I paused and thought about it for a moment. "I always thought it had something to do with rebelling against my parents, you know, getting excited about not doing what you're told, and getting a job or whatever."

She sighed. "Yeah..."

"So now I'm curious," I said. "What have you failed?"

"Well," she said, blushing a little. "My...adopted parents wanted me to get a real human education, so they paid top price for Cool World's greatest tutors to come instruct me.

"I sort of underperformed. I got distracted with superhero stuff, so my grades, as arbitrary as they were, were terrible. The funny thing is, the more I failed, the more I got excited. I felt terrible, but, well, my crotch had its own ideas." She shrugged. "I've always wondered about that. It's not anything particularly sexy."

Underperforming, I thought. That's me all over.

"Anything you've failed at more recently?"

Kate frowned. "Um, Spiderman wanted me to deliver something to his mother's house, medicine or something, and a gang of thugs stopped me halfway there.

"Before I beat the crap out of them, they destroyed the medicine. I felt really bad about that too, but I sort of resented Spiderman for making me do stuff he's too lazy to take care of himself, and that's probably why it turned me on, I guess."

I momentarily felt sorry for Spiderman, but then again, he's fictional, so I didn't care that much.

Excited by failure.

It was a depressing idea, but I appreciated how she could verbalize something I'd been struggling with for years.

For a moment, I just silently contemplated this, but then I felt a bump.

When I looked up, I saw...holes ahead of us.

Holes in front of me, above me, around the vehicle on all sides. A world full of holes. The armored carrier rattled and bumped as it rolled over them, jostling us in our seats.

Aside from these black rounded shapes, the sky and ground was a flat titanium white surface.

Oddly familiar.

When I heard Nowhere Man by the Beatles, everything clicked into place.

I'd seen this exact scene in the Yellow Submarine cartoon. John, Paul, George and Ringo popping their heads out of holes and going "hello!"

I always hated that song. Especially in high school, where I was the Nowhere Man.

Making my nowhere plans on Friday nights.

My nowhere plans for the prom.

I didn't actually see the Nowhere Man from the cartoon, but I did see the Beatles.

The armored carrier bounced unpleasantly as it rolled them under its tires.

And then we saw it. The Land of the Lost stuff.

It was like an immense junkyard, but unlike the home of the Cat-Illac-Cats, everything was real.

Sparkling and semi-new mountains of lost treasure, ranging from the Marie Celeste and TBM Avengers to mountains of pennies and other types of coinage that `eroded' to form most of the `ground' in these parts.

"All of this junk is lost?" I said as I stared at a towering mountain of television, DVD and cable remote controls.

"Yes. Anything from an umbrella to a suitcase to the contents of a change purse."

"And...how does it get here?"

"Dark places like the insides of a couch and the Bermuda Triangle are along weak points in the wavelengths of both our realities, so crossover is frequent."

"So I could potentially find a way home through here."

She frowned. "...No. Stuff comes in, all right, but nothing really leaves. It's like the intake valve on a jet engine. Jack said he spent a year wandering around this place, just trying. No luck."

"And you can't make the jet engine go backwards."

"I'm pretty sure that would destroy the fabric of Cool World."

"What about Sneezer?" I said. "If there isn't a way out, how did he get into the Union Plaza?"

"He's animated, and he's small. He can squeeze out of little openings."

But that troubled her. "You're right. It shouldn't have worked. We'll have to ask him about that later."

"I'm assuming he was next to the spike."

It didn't look like Kate accepted that answer either.

"You think it had something to do with me being a Deebes, or..." I hadn't given her Jessica's name, and there wasn't much of a point in doing so now. "The other noid girl having all those things Holli owned?"

"Maybe."

I stared at mountains of unfiled tax paperwork, utility and credit card billing statements, car titles, jury summons, proofs of college loan repayments, scraps of paper containing addresses and phone numbers and car keys, thinking it was the most awesome or most tragic thing that ever beset mankind.

So many hours of conflict and strife, when it was here the whole time.

I grinned. "One time I left a jacket in a movie theater and it disappeared. You think it's in here somewhere?"

"I don't know," she said. "If it got stolen, it's not exactly lost."

"That's true," I sighed.

She parked Chips in front of a mountain of books next to a larger mountain of packages. The books and brown boxes intermingled with each other, and with Mount Magazine, as if defiantly telling the universe, "I dare you to find something in this mess!"

In the distance, I could see an animated Beetlejuice and Lydia surfing down a mountain of coins.

Kate got out, digging through the pile. I tried to follow, but ended up slipping on an old issue of Gamepro and tripping on a box labeled Bebe, causing a `bookslide.'

"Careful!" Kate laughed. "If you get buried, I'm not sure I'll be able to locate you again!"

Groaning, I waded through the books and magazines until I reached her spot.

The girl glanced at a copy of Twilight, tossed it, flipped through a few pages of Odd Thomas, then deposited a dogeared copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles into the carrier.

I frowned at a Game Genie code book. "Is this where you go to shop, then?"

She squinted at a Xanth novel with an expression of suspicion. "Pretty much."

It seemed she didn't like the book, for a couple seconds later, she was hurling it like a baseball, into a mountain of screws, washers and nuts, likely belonging to one of those Japanese appliances you have to assemble yourself.

"Bad book?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Why would I want to read about another world full of puns?"

"Why indeed," I chuckled.

Kate lobbed another Piers Anthony into the nut pile.

"Do monkeys normally harass you while you hang out here?"

Kate looked troubled. "Some...times."

"Well, I guess they're out of your hair now." As I said this, I couldn't help but admire her pigtails.

Thinking in puns. I figured the place was getting to me.

We spent probably an hour wandering around, `shopping.'

It turned out that Kate and I had similar tastes in literature. In fact, many times she would show me a book she was unfamiliar with and ask me for my opinion, since we thought so much alike.

When we at last finished that, we boarded Chips and drove to...a baseball diamond.

A real baseball field, or rather a T-ball field, like the ones you see in little public parks, with well preserved grass in the outfield...and a cornfield at the outskirts.

"Whoa!" I cried. "What is this?"

"A baseball field. What does it look like?"

"But how did it get down here? It looks perfect!"

"It fell, I guess. Earthquake, sinkhole, something like that. Wanna play?"

"Sure," I said. "You got a ball or gloves or anything?"

Kate opened the back of the vehicle, tossing me the requested items.

The gloves were made out of blue-gray rubber, but I figured a glove was a glove. I wasn't in the major league or anything.

I glanced down at my clothing, then at hers.

"Won't you...ruin your outfit...sliding to home or whatever?"

She shook her head. "If you've read as many comics as you think you have, then you'd know that I've worn this costume while running through burning buildings, fighting assassins in a sandstorm, diving in thorn bushes, even rock climbing, without a snag or a single rip. I think it can handle a little a few short runs around a baseball diamond."

I burst out laughing. "You have a point."

I supposed that even if she were wrong, dress really didn't matter for such an informal game.

We started with a little practice.

"I love how ordinary this is," she grinned, throwing me the ball. "Just catching and throwing, focusing on timing, pitches and being in the right place for the catch."

I threw her one. It missed, but she seemed to enjoy running to catch it.

"You know what's really great?" She tossed the ball over my head. "It's great how you can't stretch your arms a million miles. You have to actually dive for the ball and get hurt. It's so normal!"

She made the word sound like it were the new "romantic." I liked that about her.

We practiced like this for awhile, then tried our hand at batting.

"I haven't touched a bat since I was a kid," I said as I made a few practice swings. The bat, although blue-gray, felt like it were made of aluminum, and I was eager to hit something with it.

"Were you on a team?" she said as she wound up.

"Yeah. But I can't for the life of me remember the name of the team. Probably the Runners or the Speedies or something."

She threw the ball, but I missed it.

And so we took turns doing that for awhile.

We both sucked, but we just laughed about it.

"Doodles always make fun of me because I hit the ball over the foul line or up by the pitcher's mound," Kate said. "Of course, they always hit it through the moon, or around the world. You're actually the first ordinary person I've ever played with."

I smiled, but felt sorry for her. "It's too bad we don't have enough players to start a real game..."

In response, Kate whistled, and instantly I see a familiar red and white convertible pulling up at the edge of the park, bearing, of course, the Cat-Illac-Cats.

The whole crew was there. Riffraff, Hector, Wordsworth, Mungo and Cleo.

They were all in baseball outfits.

"Wait," I said. "How did they know?"

Kate shrugged. "How does anyone know anything here?"

I stared at her. "I...guess you have a point."

"Okay, okay. So I texted them."

It was unbelievably weird to see Mungo without his stupid little ski cap, or Wordsworth without his yellow earphones or skates, but that's how they were dressed. White Sox uniforms and baseball caps.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I said with dismay.

"What," said Kate. "Cleo's my best friend."

I swallowed. "What about Riffraff? He threatened me."

She just laughed. "Relax, Drew. He won't hurt you. He's pussywhipped. Just keep your eyes on the ball."

I groaned at the pun. "That's great. But I think there's a conflict of interest. Don't get me wrong, great opposing team, but, you know, I don't want to even stand next to Cleo and get the guy pissed off."

"Who else we got?" Kate called.

Riffraff hit the trunk of the Cadillac and out popped Sneezer. He had a ball glove and an Oakland Athletics outfit on.

"Nice uniform," I said as he approached me. "That team just so happens to be the lowest team on the Major League Baseball totem pole, second only to, maybe, the Kansas City Royals."

"It was on sale," he said.

"Okay," I said. "We got three."

Extra popped out of my pocket, chirping a cavalry bugle call.

"Sorry, Extra," I said. "I don't think that would be fair."

The bird stuck its beak into my ear, speaking in a whisper. "How about if I don't fly?"

I shook my head. "You're just too small. When I said it wouldn't fair, I didn't just mean it would be unfair to them."

Extra sighed and nodded.

Like a strange version of Field of Dreams, I saw other characters marching out of the cornfield, clad in baseball outfits and carrying gloves.

The moose and beaver from Get-Along-Gang, who had chosen, ironically enough, the blue of Kansas City.

Sabrina the skunk in a pantless baseball uniform.

The Sailor Moon cage dancer, wearing kind of a Oakland A's outfit with a skirt.

And then I saw...Shaggy and Scooby, similarly dressed for the occasion, and the gorilla bouncer from the Halftone Club...in an umpire's costume.

This was going to be a weird game.

The weirdness didn't end there. When Riffraff ran out to the cornfield and yelled, more odd characters came out of the woodwork, this time in White Sox uniforms.

The pole dancing Persians.

An Anime catgirl.

Gosalyn Mallard from Darkwing Duck.

And Dogbert.

"I hear you guys want to play Noid Ball," Riffraff said. "And I hear there's going to be a wager."

I frowned at him, crossing my arms. "A wager."

The cat nodded.

"I wasn't aware of any wager."

"That's not what your girlfriend told me over the phone."

I stared at Kate in disbelief. "When were you going to tell me about this?"

She only gave me a shrug.

"How did you even have time to contact them?"

"Oh, I made time," she said vaguely.

I shook my head. "Okay. What's the wager?"

"Four innings, regulation baseball," she said. "If you win, Riffraff will do everything within his power to find you a way back home."

I gulped. "No pressure. So what if I lose?"

"You," the cat said, poking my stomach. "Will be my slave for an entire year."

"Starting tomorrow," Kate agreed.

I scowled at her. "And you negotiated this bargain without even telling me."

She grabbed my shoulders, bringing me close as she looked into my eyes. "You...have no room to talk."

I blushed. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Oh yeah? You sure you never promised anyone a free show if they gave you your wallet back?"

I cringed. She had me dead to rights.

Sighing, I said, "Fine. It's a deal."

I just knew this wasn't going to be pretty.