"You want...to borrow my car?" the girl stammered.

"Yeah," I said as Scouter Drew. "All I need is a lift to the Union Plaza Hotel, to get my keys, and back to J.D. Newcomer's and Sons on Twelfth Street."

"Why are we going to a funeral home?"

"They declared my dad dead. The service was symbolic, because we didn't have a body. But my car is still parked there."

"Jack's not dead," Amanda said. "Why would they do that?"

"In real life, people do that if a person disappears for too long," I said as a human in boxers. "You get a certain amount of years, and they officially declare it. We've had private investigators checking anything they could check. But of course they weren't able to check Cool World. At least we didn't have to buy a coffin."

"What are you guys?" Dane asked. "How did you get here?"

I turned into a rat. "Well..."

I explained the situation.

"That's ridiculous," Dane said. "But you are animated, and it explains a lot about my visions."

Now I was Drew Scout. "You're only at the tip of the Ridiculous Iceberg."

For a moment, I just froze, listening. Listening for the ever present soundtrack that had followed me everywhere in Cool World, including Amanda's bedroom. Now that it was gone, everything seemed strangely quiet. I heard nothing but the uncomfortable shifting of my friends and my new (still unclothed) acquaintance in the clutter.

Riffraff tapped on the wall. "Where's the background music?"

Thank God, I thought.

"I can put on the stereo if you want," Dane said.

"Please don't," I begged. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear...nothing for a change."

Amanda nodded. "He's right. It's...beautiful."

Dane rolled her eyes. "You're weird."

Riffraff knelt in front of the kitten, smiling and waving to it. The real feline hissed and dove under the bed.

"Wow." Dane shook her head in disbelief. "This has got to be a dream."

I just looked at her, turning human. "I wish it was."

The young woman cleared her throat. "Look, you guys are awesome, and I'd like to help you out, but could you please turn around and let me get dressed? Don't disappear, just turn around, okay?"

"Sure," I said, turning to face her closet.

As I stared at the skirts and dresses and tops through the partially opened door, I got an idea.

"Say, uh, Dane. Would you mind if my sister borrows some of your clothing?"

"Only if I can keep her clothes."

I rolled my eyes, thinking about Jessica's obsession. "Deal. I'm sure there's plenty more where that came from."

Amanda scowled a little, but nodded.

I thought about mentioning Holli's state of attire, but at the moment, the doodle looked human, and the long white dress she had on looked decent enough to wear in public. The slit up the side was, perhaps, in poor taste, but I'd seen worse on reality shows and awards programs.

Amanda's outfit, on the other hand, wasn't turning real, making her stick out too much. I suppose it didn't matter with me changing all the time, and Riffraff being himself, but I thought I'd try.

"Are you sure it'll fit?" Dane asked. "She looks a little bigger than me." Then, to be polite, she quickly added, "Taller, I mean."

And then she did a double take. "How do you know my name?"

I pointed at the glowing hole in the wall. "I saw a few things."

She suddenly looked like she wanted to crawl away and hide. "Do...I want to know what those are?"

"I think we missed that part," I said.

"But I saw what you did the night before," Holli said. She clapped her hands. "Bravo!"

Dane let out a sound that seemed to be a cross between an angry yell and an embarrassed sob. "I don't know whether to kill you or give you an encore."

"Encore, please," Riffraff said.

Dane threw a sock at him.

I turned into Adult Drew Scout, frowning at my state of undress.

Amanda opened the door wider, holding a couple different tops up to her chest, some with a Beetlejuice type of stripe motif, the other black with ripped sleeves and a skull over one breast.

"I think I have a large Korn shirt you can wear," Dane said.

Amanda gave me a stupid look. "Noids wear shirts made of corn?"

"It's a rock band," I explained. "But I have heard of shirts being made of hemp fiber."

"What's hemp?"

I frowned. "It's a plant. Never mind."

Dane, now clad in a bra and distressed jeans, tossed Amanda a shirt from one of the dressers. My sister threw off her ink and paint blouse, pulling on a black tee with that iconic Todd McFarlane image of the kid playing hopscotch on a cliff.

Amanda let out a little noise that was almost sexual as she pressed the fabric to her body and moved it around. "Ooh! I like how this feels!"

"Oh brother," I groaned.

She poked at her shirt, as if trying to see if she could move the drawing of the kid away from danger. The icon didn't move, much to my delight.

Amanda pulled the collar over her button nose for a moment, inhaling deeply. "This shirt has an interesting fragrance."

"It's probably cigarette smoke," Dane said, rubbing my sister's discarded animated top between her fingers. "Sorry about that!"

Amanda sniffed her shirt again. "I only meant...it's nice."

I smacked my face. It would appear that, in this world, Amanda was going to end up being not much more than a developmentally stunted female man child. I saw a future of shoe tying and leading her by the hand through cross-walks.

I could already imagine her standing in line at the local Carl's Jr., with a transparent wallet necklace like those people from The Home. Amanda had no chance of survival.

Now wearing a Marilyn Manson t-shirt, Dane stepped around me to pull a plaid skirt out of the closet.

"This one's a bit oversized, but I haven't worn it since Catholic school, so it might not be as big as I think."

Amanda threw off her Babs skirt and pulled the other skirt on, not caring that other individuals were in the room, looking at her ink-and-paint panties. The skirt turned out to be shorter than knee length, but still decent enough for her to go outside. In fact, she looked a bit...frumpy.

"Wonderful," I said. "I think you'll blend right in." Even her nose wasn't that...unrealistic. My grandpa had a nose that appeared to be swollen that bad, though not as nice looking.

"This is going to sound weird," Dane said. "But would you also like some underwear? I mean, right now if you uncross your legs, it's going to look like you're hiding a flashlight up there." She offered her a pair from a drawer. "Don't worry, they're clean."

Amanda put them on without a second's thought. Her eyes widened, as if maybe she were enjoying the texture a little too much.

"I'm...guessing they fit?"

She nodded.

I noticed Dane eying the glowing pair. "You're not seriously going to wear that, are you?"

The girl blushed. "I was thinking about washing it first..."

She offered Amanda a bra, but it wasn't the right size, so we gave it up.

It seemed I had been standing there as a human in my underwear for awhile, for I noticed the girl giggling at me and looking at me funny, maybe more than funny, if you get my meaning.

Eventually, though, she threw me a pair of her boyfriend's baggy cargo pants and a shirt advertising some band called Ryngwyrm.

Naturally I turned into Scouter Drew a few seconds after I got dressed.

"Ms. Gatson," Holli said. "You have something we want under your foundation. It is a very precious personal possession of mine, and I'd like your permission to excavate beneath your flooring."

"Wow, mom," Amanda said. "You almost sounded real when you said that!"

Holli just scowled at her. The look she gave was, `You fool, you just ruined everything.'

Dane frowned. "Lady, I like you, but this isn't my place. It's a rental. If you tear up my, the floor, the property manager is going to get upset and probably charge me a lot of money. I'm already on shaky terms with her. Is there something else I can do?"

"Yes," I said, glaring at Holli. "Taking us to the Union Plaza will be fine."

And then, in a lower tone, I told Holli, "Let's check for that spike at the hotel before we violate her lease agreement, okay?"

She looked puzzled. "What's a lease agreement?"

"Oh, right," I said with skepticism. "And your suite doesn't have one. You can just break any old thing you want, no questions asked."

Looking completely serious, she said, "Yes."

I groaned. "Well that's not here, and there are penalties. Just go with me on that one, all right?"

"Fine."

I turned into Hyperrealistic But Still Animated Drew. "Plus, I really tore up that hotel, so it's easier to conceal the damage, if you want to ransack the place."

Suddenly I feel my shirt wiggle, and I see Extra popping out of a pocket. Dane said it was "awesome," but to me it only added to the cartoon clutter that was preventing me from going back to my normal life.

The bird took to wing, circling around me, chirping happily.

"Hey, little guy!" I said with a smile.

He looked around for a moment, then said, "Hello, master!"

I blinked. "You talk? What about your contract?"

Extra cast a suspicious glance at the hole in reality. "I receive no penalties for talking out here."

"Why can't you talk in there? What can they really do to you?"

The bird shuddered. "Bad things, man. Bad things. They made my cousin into a kookoo clock, and my aunt, they forced her to work in a sweat shop making table legs and baseball bats. Even her chicks have to make toothpicks. Freaking toothpicks!"

I pressed the bird to my face in sort of a hug. "Do you know who's doing this?"

Whimpering, Extra returned the embrace. "The place is called CC KnickKnocker, a subsidiary of Terious Industries."

"Any relation to Miss Terious?"

He nodded his head vigorously. "Your old girlfriend is allying herself with the wrong doodles. Me, JJ and Lamont sneaked out through Hammerspace, but T-Bone and Tito have no sense. They're still with that chick. I mean..." He whistled. "Her tits are nice, but not that damn nice."

Extra shook his head in disgust. "You know what my aunt has to do in that factory? Lathe duty. They turn a block of wood on a machine and press her beak against it..." He choked down a sob. "And they keep grinding...and grinding..."

"But wouldn't that eventually...grind her beak down to a little nub?"

The bird nodded. A tear dripped down his cheek.

"What happens then?"

"That's...when they erase you." The thought grieved him so much that he laid flat on a dresser, staring dejectedly at the messy floor.

I felt so bad for the bird that I wanted to visit this KnickKnocker place myself and start busting heads.

I clenched my paws, clamping my buckteeth together. A Chinese symbol on my kimono glowed a hot blue-white. I was even growling. "That's animal cruelty! Someone should do something about this!"

Extra sighed. "Master, it has been happening long before you and Amanda were born. You should not concern yourself about it. I and my family have survived well enough over the years without any help."

A tear rolled down my furry face, doing that sparkly star thing they do in those Japanese cartoons. Riffraff looked a little sad himself.

"Master, you shed tears for me?" Extra said. "Why?"

"I don't know," I said, shedding more. "Why do you call me master?"

"You brought me back from death. I am now bonded to you."

"Are you really a Car-X bird?"

"No," he said. "You're thinking of my cousins."

I sighed. "What's your real name, bird?"

"It used to be Bubba, but you have named me. Once an owner names you, it cannot be taken back." He suddenly looked like he were trying to swallow a beakful of gravel. "In Cool World, you must only use the name you have given me, or I may disappear and you may never see me again."

"So someone actually enforces your contract," I muttered. "Where are your friends? The ones that didn't stay with Jessica?"

Extra dove into my clothing, then popped back out. "They're gone!"

I looked at him sadly. "Did they...get grabbed?"

"I...don't know. I hope not. Once a Rewrite or a Hammerbeast gets you, it's all over."

Not wanting to dive back into Cool World just to save a bunch of birds, I said, "Would it help if an artist draws a comic about your family being rescued?"

"Drew!" Holli said. "Remember what I told you about Cool World existing before the artist draws it!"

"I wish I could help you," I said as an animated sad clown. "But I have a life. In reality."

"It's okay," Extra replied. "I did not solicit your aid. I am fortunate enough to receive the gift of your tears. It is enough."

"He has a year of service to fulfill," Riffraff said. "He'll have plenty of time to help you."

In response, the bird joyfully nuzzled my cheek, making my stomach churn with unease.

Cool World was starting to feel like a black hole, sucking me away from where I really needed to be, and it seemed I wouldn't be able to turn my back on it without hurting someone.

"Are you sure you need a car?" Dane asked. "It sounds like you need to go back and help the little bird."

Extra looked at me hopefully, which made it even more awkward.

I turned into Marvin the Martian. "I can do that...later. I'm sure...it won't take...that long."

"We have to do something here first," Holli added.

"Right," the girl groaned. "A trip to a hotel in the middle of the night. I guess I've done that before..."

"Dane," I said as a regular human in jeans and a t-shirt. "I'm really sorry about the intrusion, but I'm glad you took it so well, and lent us these clothes. I promise I'll be out of your hair as soon as we get a few things straightened out with my car and personal affects."

"You think I actually want that?" she exclaimed. "You guys are cool! Especially Garfield. Don't go!"

"It's Riffraff," the cat said. He spelled out his name.

Dane giggled. "Sorry."

"Thank you," Amanda said, doing a half curtsy with her skirt. "For the help, and this outfit. It's pretty."

The skirt actually looked frayed on the edges, and the sewing job was coming loose on a corner.

"I've been meaning to give that stuff to the thrift store anyway."

I was now animated and wearing a Voltron pilot's costume, complete with helmet.

Grinning, Dane led us out into a narrow carpeted hallway smelling of mildew and stale beer. I supposed we were in sort of an attic loft space, under a flat roof. I could pretty well reach up and touch the yellowing stucco ceiling.

The hallway featured only a couple doors, a closed one with a psychedelic poster with skulls and mushrooms and checkerboard swirls tacked to it, the other obviously a bathroom, as the door had been left open.

The girl angrily ripped a poster for a band called Mind Melt off the wall, then used it to squish a cockroach that had scurried out of a crack. "Sorry for the mess. I wasn't expecting guests."

"It's okay," I said. "You should see my place."

We ran into the boyfriend at the middle of the carpeted stairs.

"What the hell?" he cried in surprise.

Dane didn't bother to explain. "Back so soon?"

"I just came to get my things," he answered.

"But he slammed the door!" Riffraff whispered to me. "Why is he back when he slammed the door?"

"That's what happens in real life," I muttered back. "When people say they're going, they don't always go for real. It's called an anticlimax."

Riffraff rubbed his chin. "If I had only known you could do that..."

"Don't ruin your show," I said as I became an animated conquistador.

"What do you mean by that comment?"

Not wanting to get him upset, I said, "I...uh, only meant, uh, I like how you are. Don't mess up...your life."

"You're on TV," Dane explained.

The cat's eyes bugged out. "I what!"

Before he could get an answer, Dane's boyfriend shouted "Who are these freaks?"

"It's not important," said Dane. "Get your things and go."

Suddenly the guy kissed her on the lips. The girl kicked up her heel like she didn't mind.

"Didn't they just break up?" Riffraff said.

"Again," I said. "It's called anticlimactic. Real life is full of it. Another example: Sometimes you won't have an idea about where to go on a date, and the girl won't either, so you just sit there."

The cat frowned. "I'm not sure I want to do that!"

While we talked, Dane had actually been kissing the guy back. But then she shoved him away and slapped him.

"Take your shit and get out of here!" she yelled.

The man nodded undramatically, marching up the steps.

He stopped in front of me, now real and in my punk rock best. "What's he doing wearing my clothes?"

"You left them," Dane said. "And he was in his underwear. Unless you prefer to see him in his underwear, I wouldn't complain."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Why was he in his underwear."

"Someone stole my clothes," I said. "It's complicated. I promise after today, you'll never see me again."

I probably could have taken him in a fight, but I didn't want to.

"He's my new boyfriend," Dane said with an evil grin.

"I'll happily get out of your way once I get my car back," I said as a rat.

Greg probably would have argued with me as a man, but I think the rat sold it. He pointed to the Riffraff. "Is this Garfield?"

"That's not any concern of yours," Dane said with a cold edge to her voice.

"The name's Riffraff!" the cat yelled.

The man stopped at the top of the stairs. "Hey. How long is cannabis supposed to stay in your system?"

"A long time," I said, making myself look really serious. Of course, I was Kimono Rat when I was saying this. "You need to lay off the stuff."

Dane giggled. "You hear that, Greg! Lay off the weed!"

Greg gave her the finger, to which she answered with a waggling tongue.

He stomped away.

The cat glared at me. "What's this about me being on TV! Have you been spying on me?"

"Dude," Dane said with a grin. "You're famous. The world is spying on you."

The cat stuck out his chest, looking proud.

"About ten years ago," I clarified.

That deflated him somewhat.

As Drew Scout, I wandered into the living room. The carpet was an unsightly yellow color, the sofas battered. I witnessed a mangy calico adding new rips in the ugly eyeball pattern drapes.

A dirty, wobbly looking brown coffee table held visual evidence of the couple's questionable lifestyle. Beer cans, partially empty boxes of Chinese takeout, an ashtray containing a mix of Menthol Light 100's and `funny cigarettes', pizza delivery and Jimmy Johns menus and one of those packets of air freshener that people sniff to get high (and dead), K9? K10? Something like that.

Originally I had been hungry for breakfast, but the air was thick with such heavy odors of old beer, cigarettes, stale pizza and Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers that I quickly lost my appetite.

No sound but the house creaking and central air conditioning blowing through the vents. Glorious.

Amanda picked up a DVD case, staring at the label. "Who is Jackson Pollock?"

"That's a good movie," Dane said. "You want to watch it?"

My sister nodded, but I said, "Maybe later. First I need to keep my car out of the impound lot."

Dane opened the plastic case and found it empty. "I know that DVD is around here somewhere..."

Probably in the Land of the Lost Stuff, I thought, but I didn't say it out loud. "Later," I repeated as Naked Female Rat.

"I love how you decorate," Amanda said. "And it smells interesting. It's so real!"

Dane rolled her eyes. "I know. It's gross. I've been meaning to clean up."

She took the takeout box to the kitchen, throwing it away.

"Um...car?" I prompted, turning into Krusty the Clown as I spoke.

Dane dug through a pile of bills, magazines and assorted debris. "Just a minute."

Greg came back downstairs, clad in a leather jacket.

Instead of going out, he walked into the small kitchen, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

"Isn't he supposed to be gone?" I whispered to Dane.

"He does that," she said with a shrug.

"Not very dramatic," my sister commented.

"That's because it's real," I said as a rat.

"Right," Riffraff muttered. "Although these noids engage in self contradictory and confusing behavior, with very little thought paid to dramatic development or expanding their character arc, we should nonetheless be tolerant and respectful of their unique cultural heritage and not interfere with their lifestyle."

I stared at the cat in shock. "Did you...switch scripts with someone? A full of shit college professor, perhaps?"

The cat reddened. "Um...meow?"

"They really remodeled the place," Holli remarked. "I don't think it had an upstairs the last time I came here."

I frowned. I'd only seen the place once, when mom was throwing stuff out, and that was when I was too young to really remember that much. I only recalled a couple of dad's murals. Bunnies and bikini chicks, I think.

Holli marched over to one corner, staring into a small dining area. "This used to be a studio, and there were drawings on the walls."

"I think they painted over them. I didn't see any when I moved in." Dane threw a few sofa cushions aside, searching the dirt and crumb encrusted box spring beneath. A second later, she was jangling a set of keys with a triumphant smile.

What she hadn't noticed was that the remote control to her television had just vanished into a little black hole adjacent to the cushion. It seemed the stories about the Land of the Lost stuff and wavelengths were actually true.

"Where are you going?" the guy asked.

"None of your business," Dane said, opening the front door.

The boyfriend pushed around me and grabbed the girl, sliding his hands down her jeans as he kissed her.

"Stop," Dane cried, pushing him away, but Greg only answered, "Goodbye" and kissed her again.

Now clad in the kimono, I clenched my paws into fists. "Would you like me to intervene?"

Dane broke away from him. "No. It's fine." And then she kissed him willingly.

"I don't understand," Riff said with a frown.

"If you figure it out," I said. "Let me know. People seldom make sense."

"Bastard," Dane breathed as she stepped away from the guy.

"Snotty bitch," the young man said.

Then he looked me in the eyes. "What do you think? Should I keep her?"

"Why are you asking me?" I said.

I was human, in a cartoon tux. I supposed that might have been it.

"I don't know," he said. Then, because I was a rat again, he gave me a weird look.

"It's none of my business," I said with my voice awkwardly high in pitch. "But if you want my opinion, if she's about to have a baby, she needs to have someone there for the kid, and you're apparently the nearest responsible party."

"He's hardly responsible," Dane said.

Amanda gave me this skeptical look, nonverbally reminding me of how I wasn't quite volunteering to take care of her baby problems.

"Wait," the man said, eying me with suspicion. "How do you know about my baby?"

"I told him," Dane blurted before I could say anything. "I mean her." And then, when she saw me turn into a person, "It."

"It's a drugstore test," the man said. "I don't know. I thought we were pretty careful."

"I know I was careful," Dane said. "I don't know about you."

"It's entropy," I said as Hyperrealistic Cartoon Drew. "There really isn't a perfect solution. Can we continue this discussion in your car?"

Dane frowned. "Will you all fit?"

"Probably," I said. "We're mostly animated."

"I can sit on someone's lap," Riffraff said. Then he frowned at me. "Except yours. I don't want anything springing up."

"I assure you, when I look at you, nothing ever springs up."

"Where are you going?" Greg asked.

"None of your damn business," Dane said.

"Fine. I'm coming along."

"Fine."

"Anticlimactic," the cat muttered with awe.

The exterior of the house didn't look that different from what I'd remembered from when dad lived there, except for maybe a fresh slap of paint. Of course, it was dark. That may have had something to do with it.

Not much more than a bland cube surrounded by lifeless dirt, some astroturf-like patches of grass, and sickly shrubbery that had more in common with sagebrush than actual landscaping flora.

Actual crickets were chirping. Although I could hear someone's car woofers blasting out rap music in the distance, that was in the distance. The quiet was nice.

Dane's car was the ugliest POS I'd ever seen. An old brown Mercedes with peeling paint, a cracked windshield and a roof that appeared to have been sand blasted without being finished.

She had to reach back over a seat to unlock and open the stubborn lock on the rear door, and the door only opened forty five degrees. The opposite one, she said, didn't open at all.

The seats were bald in portions, with rough patches and gaping holes where the foam padding poked out. She had no carpet on the floors, only bald metal strewn with broken car parts. Part of the ceiling hung down in a loose bump. The stereo appeared to be the only thing on the vehicle that was actually new.

"I want a car just like this," Amanda said.

"I don't," I groaned.

I slid all the way to the unopenable door, and Amanda got in next to me, followed by Holli and the cat, who had to sit on her lap in order to fit.

The boyfriend sat up front, with the dashboard air vents that reminded me of crappy little jet engines.

Dane took the driver's seat, which appeared to have been padded with a wheelchair cushion to replace the actual seat.

She started up the engine, an uncertain sounding diesel rumble. The stereo blasted out Ska metal.

"You know how to get to the Union Plaza Hotel?" I asked with opaque glasses.

Dane turned down the stereo. When I repeated the question, she glanced at Greg. "Didn't you have a gig there one time?"

"I...think. It's been awhile." He took out his phone, using a GPS system to figure out the directions.

Dane shifted gears, pulling away from the property.

"Rat man," Greg called over the music. "Explain to me again why you were at my house in your shorts?"

I was real again. I guess that's what brought up the topic. "I was with a girlfriend, not her, things were getting physical, and we got locked out of our hotel room. Oh, and I found a portal to a cartoon world."

He laughed. "If it wasn't for Garfield and friends, I'd say you were full of shit!"

"Garfield!" Riffraff cried in outrage. "I didn't come here to be insulted!"

I shushed him, but it was no use.

"The name is Riffraff! R-I-F-F..."

"C'mon," I said as Naked Rat. "He's been nice enough to let us ride in the car. Just bear with it for a couple more minutes, okay?"

"I thought by now you would have known enough about me to understand that I don't-"

"That you what? Don't have any patience?"

The cat frowned.

"Look!" Amanda said, pointing at the window. "The background changed!"

Riffraff stared in amazement. "Son of a gun! It actually changes every second!"

"Yeah," I groaned. "But the windows haven't. It's hot."

I asked Dane to open them.

"Sorry," she said. "The thing is broken. They only go down partway, then they won't go back up."

Riffraff and Amanda spent most of the trip staring out the window, pointing and asking me to explain various things. Thankfully it was dark, so I didn't have to explain a lot. Holli was interested too, but she seemed to know more than the others, so she kept her mouth shut.

Up in the front seat, Dane turned on the stereo, blasting us with a CD of some punk music with really terrible lyrics. I don't mean offensive, I mean just plain bad. One of the songs literally had the chorus: "You drive me, you drive me, you drive me crazy." And it did as advertised.

While the music played, the couple argued, but the music drowned out whatever it was from prying ears. My guess was that they were trying to establish whether there was still a relationship going on, and whether he'd stick around if she had a baby.

During a brief interlude between songs, I heard Greg yelling something about how a piece of plastic that you piss on isn't proof of anything. In response, she said something about not being able to afford her insurance payments. The rest got drowned out with music.

Personally, that didn't bother me. What I couldn't accept, however, was Dane's annoying habit of driving with her knees instead of her hands, in order to gesticulate at him about...whatever. It was an accident waiting to happen.

"I can't understand what they're saying," Riffraff said.

"That's kind of the point," I replied as Cartoon Abraham Lincoln with a hat flattened by the car roof. "They don't want to be heard arguing."

"But how am I supposed to know if something important is going to happen?"

"You don't," I said as I de-animated. "In the real world we have something called privacy."

Riffraff looked at me like I were some kind of guru that had just spoken a very deep philosophical or religious truth. "Wow..."

And then he just stared at the two in fascination.

We stopped at the diesel pump at a BP station.

"What's going on?" Riffraff said.

My cartoon clothes popped back on. "Cars require fuel. If you run out, the car won't work."

He gawked at Dane as she slowly filled the tank, banging the air bubbles down every minute or so. "Woww."

"So..." I said to Holli. "I just spoke to Cupcake from NBF. I think she was referring to you a few times. Tell me, was Amanda born in a cabbage patch?"

Holli slowly nodded. "They had my sketch matrix stored in the system, but Jack says they cornered him in an alleyway and forced him to give blood samples."

I chuckled. "Just blood?"

Holli shrugged. "If they made him give anything else, I'm not aware of it."

Dane climbed back in the car, slamming the door twice before belting in and starting up the engine.

"If they wanted all of Jack's chromosomes," I said as we got rolling again. "They could have just taken-"

"I've often wondered if that would have helped Amanda, but to the best of my knowledge, they didn't ask for it. The laws of science and biology are different in Cool World. My daughter was delivered by a stork. When's the last time you heard that one?"

"Never," I admitted.

"I think dad should have donated his stuff," Amanda said. "I mean, look at me now. If his son can fix me like this, just think what would have happened if he'd taken care of it himself the first time?"

"You slept with your brother?" Dane called from the driver's seat.

"No," I said.

"Yes," said Amanda.

Greg hummed Dueling Banjos.

"Funny," I said. "Look, it wasn't planned, and it won't happen again."

"It's cool," said the young man. "Whatever floats your boat, man! As long as I don't have to see it!"

"I'd like to see it!" Dane said with a grin.

And then Greg hummed a few more bars.

I frowned as I saw the car turning in a cul-de-sac in front of a VFW hall.

I turned into a cartoon baby in diapers. "I thought we were going to the-"

"I know!" Dane yelled. "Dimwit here gave me the wrong directions! I thought, if he had a GPS on his phone..."

"If your friends actually knew how to get there..."

"Just google Union Plaza Hotel, dummy!"

"And you wonder why we're breaking up!"

"I only say dummy and dimwit with the sincerest affection," she said as she turned back into traffic. "Now type in the right name!"

My companions, on the other hand, seemed to be having a wonderful time. To them it was like one of those scenic trolley tours or something. They stared at dumpy apartment buildings and graffiti spraypainted underpasses like they were rolling past Buckingham Palace.

"It's so real!"

"It's gritty! And urban!"

We got back out into traffic, and I changed into a Dune character.

Black rubber suit, nose plug, probably solid blue eyes if I could look at myself in a mirror. I'd never seen a Dune cartoon, but I guessed that kind of thing didn't matter in Cool World.

Noting something else amiss, I glanced at my sister, then glanced again when I figured it out.

"Your hair is black," I said.

She looked indifferent. "Uh-huh. And you're wearing a stillsuit."

"Was it...always black?" Since I was wearing black, I added, "Your hair?"

Amanda rolled her eyes like I were stupid. "Drew. We have the same father. It was only blonde because I had a paint job."

"It was black with a band of yellow running through it," her mother said. "They used to call her Stripe."

Then she sighed. "You seriously didn't know. You never once wondered why this beautiful girl you just met just so happens to think and act almost exactly like you? Maybe even look a little like you?"

I reddened. "Not...really."

"Ugh." Holli looked away.

"If it bothers you so much," I said as a human. "Why did you send me to see her?"

She didn't answer.

"It's not her fault," Amanda said. "I tricked you."

"That you did," I said with annoyance.

Awkward silence.

At least she was making peace with her mother.

"So," Amanda said to me. "About that. Can you honestly say you didn't enjoy it?"

"Um," I lowered my voice to a mumble. "No."

She smiled. "But you wouldn't, um, again."

I turned into a Japanese cartoon version of myself. I could tell by the drawing style. "Look. Even if we weren't related, you turned me into this half cartoon thing. Are you seriously telling me you want to go back to the way you were?"

Amanda looked at me sadly. "What about you? Do you want to stay the way you are?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

"I'm used to being...that way," she said. "But you...in this real world..."

Sleep with her.

Again.

To change back to a normal human.

Permanently.

For a moment, I actually considered the idea. I mean, it's not like it was painful or anything...

But then, thinking more like a male with actual standards, I came up with a better idea: If I could just tear Jessica away from her kangaroo, maybe she could absorb my curse, and then she could get what she always wanted, an eternity in Looneyville, while I, in turn, could get to stay here and live a normal life.

"You don't even know if it will work," Holli said. "In fact...it won't. If it could transfer that easy, I'd be human right now. After the first time me and Jack slept together, after the big disaster in Las Vegas, we tried it again, but nothing happened. Nothing changed. That was one of the main reasons why we split up." She shook her head. "You have better chances waiting for the anti-doodle."

I swallowed. "That's good to know."

Still, I kept trying to think up a way to separate Jessica from her animated heartthrob.

Soon we rolled along the Vegas Strip, staring at the gaudy light up signs on the various casinos, show halls, hotels, resorts, and other things.

Not wanting to deal with the valet, Dane drove us beneath the porte-cochère at the entrance of the Union Plaza and let us out.

As I was closing the door, she handed me a business card. "Let me know if you need anything else. Anything else. Like, if you want to conquer the world, or, or even get Garfield a lasagne. Just ask me. It's cool."

With a roll of my eyes, I stuck the card into the pocket of my kimono.

She hugged me, but I think Greg didn't care because I was temporarily female.

Dane turned and gave Riffraff a quick peck. "Bye, Garfield."

Riffraff blushed, too abashed to comment on the incorrect name.

I led my party up the front sidewalk of the casino, beneath the blinding lights, getting stares as I pushed my way through the shiny revolving door.

As with all casinos, the endless beeping of slot machines filled the air, that minor C interval that droned repetitively into your subconscious brain, urging you to pull the arm and lose. I was suddenly thankful that Bingo Beaver hadn't been invited on this trip. He would have turned into one of those shriveled prunes that pull up a stool and never go home.

The place had a swank lobby with a fountain and big marble pillars and castle-like walls, and restaurants. Holli said they remodeled.

Like in every casino, the Plaza's lighting was designed to be exactly the same, day or night. They had the front end tinted for this very reason.

"Remodeling," Holli muttered again she stared at a movie theater.

For some reason, she had become completely human, and seemed to be remaining that way for the majority of the time. I thought it incredibly odd, but she never told me all the rules regarding such things.

I knew it was late in the evening, but people were still staring, taking pictures with their cel phones. A few people, gambling addicts or the smart phone obsessed, didn't care, being too wrapped up in their own issues to pay us any mind.

I hurried around the winding labyrinth designed to trap you at the various gambling stations, at last reaching the lobby of the hotel.

I walked across the green carpeting, approaching the ditzy looking blonde behind the check-in desk. I was human, so I figured I'd be okay.

"Hi," I said. "My name is Drew Deebes. I'm locked out of my room."

The woman narrowed her eyes at me, as if trying to remember a very important memo from the boss about certain property damages, but then glanced at my companions, laughing and muttering to a young bald black guy next to her.

"Can I see some ID?" she said at last.

My wallet, and the rare and collectible bills belonging to the Professor, once resting in the rather unstable confines of animated clothing, was now safely in Greg's cargo pants.

As wonderful as that was, it did not, of course, contain my driver's license.

I smacked my face. "It's in the room."

The look on her face said, "Sure it is."

"Didn't Sneezer...?" Amanda began, but I elbowed her.

"I'm sorry," the clerk said. "I'm going to need-"

"Never mind," I interrupted. "I'll see if my friend can help me."

"If that doesn't work," the other clerk said. "Try Bugs Bunny."

He grinned. "I love your cartoons, by the way. I don't know how you're doing that, but it's awesome."

"Wait," the female clerk whispered a little too loudly. "Wasn't Drew Deebes that guy that broke that thing upstairs?"

"No," I said with a frown.

Afraid they might call security, I hurried around the desk, into the hotel.

Once safely in an unoccupied hallway, I whispered, "Okay, who here knows how to pick locks?"

No one said anything.

"Look," I groaned. "We're animated." I frowned at Holli and her daughter. "Some of us. Please tell me you know some way to open a locked hotel door!"

"That depends," said Holli. "Are you going to help me get The Spike?"

"I take it you have an idea."

She shrugged. "I might."

I led them to the elevator and up to my suite.

At the end of the hall, I saw the damage had still not been fixed. The only thing management had done was board up the way to the roof and rope off the dusty bedroom, kind of like a museum or something.

I frowned at the suite's electronic lock. "Okay. I'm dying to know what your idea is."

"You promise to help me get to The Spike."

"I promise." Since I was in uniform, I added, "Scout's honor."

She touched her hand to the wall.

For a moment it glowed, becoming a giant cartoon hand.

"This is tricky..." she muttered. "I need the utmost concentration..."

The cartoon hand glowed, and she shoved it through the wall.

"It still works!" she cried. "It still-!"

She let out an agonized shriek. "Oh God! I'm stuck!"

I grabbed her arm, but she pushed me away with her other hand. "Let it work itself out!"

She furrowed her brow in concentration, pulling her arm back a little.

At last I saw the cartoon hand appearing on the outside of the wallpaper again.

Holli stared at her limb with horror. "That could have been my body!"

A few people, hearing the commotion, had stuck their heads out their doors, gawking at us. I just waved and said we were fine.

Holli gave me an apologetic look. "We're going to have to figure out something else."

The woman suddenly grabbed Riffraff, stretching him like a piece of taffy.

"Hey!" the cat cried.

"Sorry, Riff," she said. "It has to be done."

She handed me the cat's feet. "Here. Hold this. When you're a doodle, try to stretch your arms to give it extra pull."

We stretched the cat more and more, past several suites.

At one point, a man in a Hawaiian shirt saw the cat ribbon and ducked his head back in his room, probably to call the front desk, or maybe a psychologist.

When at last we had stretched the cat the length of the entire hallway, (and an extra foot when I turned into Baby Drew), Holli rolled him up like a carpet, feeding him through the crack beneath the door to my suite.

Once she ran out of cat, and squeezed his rolled up hat through, I heard a click, and the door swung open.

I turned human, watching with eager anticipation.

Instead of seeing Riffraff at the handle, I saw Sneezer.

I frowned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It was funny," he said.

"It was," Riffraff said as he dug through Jessica's purse.

He jangled a set of keys, decorated with a plastic Mighty Mouse and a Shoney Bear, obviously Jessica's.

"Yours?"

A cartoon light bulb clicked on above my head. "They are now."