Myxo's weapon was real somehow. For this reason, it had penetrated whatever cartoon defenses I may have had. I tried singing the theme song to TV's Maude, but it didn't make me feel any better, or remove the obstruction.

I staggered backwards, grabbing the edge of a destroyed assembly station for support.

This was no surface wound. It was in there deep, and not in a safe spot like the meat of my shoulder or my arm.

My heartbeat was irregular, I was having difficulty breathing, and I was in a lot of pain. I hoped this was only a panic attack, but then I had been wounded.

Honestly, I was trying to run away.

It had been fun playing a hero for awhile, but I hadn't intended to die over it.

I know a few things about first aid, and one of them is that you don't always want to rip a deadly piece of rebar or a harpoon out of your body, because there's a chance that the action of pulling it out will make the wound worse, maybe even puncture a vital organ.

Myxo's weapon could have any number of breakable parts, or fish hook-like serrated edges. Better to play it safe.

Of course, I figured I'd probably die before anyone could get me to a capable surgeon anyway.

...Or perish on the operating table beneath the incompetent hands of The Simpson's Doctor Hibbert and Daffy Duck in a surgical mask.

I thought it foolish to rip it out like some guy in an action movie, so I left it in.

"No!" Sneezer screamed, drawing a pair of pistols.

The guns blazed, the bullets flew, but none of them hit the Judge. The rabbit either did the limbo and dodged it like a Matrix character, or the bullet missed.

Dane popped out with her rifle, firing off a few shots, but they strayed from the target.

A moment later, I saw Myxo's hands flash out with bone suriken.

"Sneezer!" I yelled, but it was too late. He collapsed with two of them in his chest.

I heard a pissed off cat sound, then Riffraff was on the rabbit's face, clawing and scratching and growling.

My sister took this opportunity to fire a few more shots. One hit the target, somewhere around the knee, and black blood sprayed from the robe. The other shots missed.

The birds watched all of this from the rafters, keeping a wary distance from the action.

"Help us!" Amanda shouted to them.

Extra popped out of my shirt (now my regular apparel), blowing the cavalry charge on a bugle.

The birds swooped down upon our foe. So many flapping wings got in the way that I completely lost sight of the judge and Riffraff.

Amanda rushed to my side, examining my injury. I'm not sure that was proper triage, but Sneezer was animated, and I wasn't, so whatever.

"Why didn't you pull that out?" she asked.

"Because I'm not a fan of internal hemorrhaging," I said.

She furrowed her brow. "So how many books did you have to read to get your six figure income?"

I groaned. "I don't have a six figure income. I just watch a lot of medical shows."

She gasped. "So that's all it takes to be a doctor?"

I was flickering animated, probably because this little comedy routine was distracting me from serious things. "No. That's actually never what it takes to be a doctor. I'm afraid I'm going to die."

"Why?" she said. "Aren't you a doctor?"

"No. I'm definitely not a doctor."

Before I could make a move to stop her, she yanked the object out of my chest.

The blade came out covered in red paint.

It didn't feel good. I definitely felt like something vital had been damaged.

I sighed in frustration, glancing back in the direction of our lop eared foe.

He was nowhere to be seen. Riffraff lay panting on the floor.

"Where's Myxo?" I said.

"I don't know," the cat gasped. "He went up in a puff of smoke!"

Dane frowned as she looked around the room. "He's dead, right? We killed him. With the birds' help, right?"

"No," I said. "There's no body. He's definitely alive, and planning to kill us. Don't you read any comic books?"

Amanda reached into my pockets, pulling out a banana. "You're bleeding."

"That's not going to help," I said. "Just tear a piece off my clothing and tie it around the wound."

Instead of doing that, she brought a multicolored bandanna out of my pocket.

"Okay. That will do."

She bandaged the wound with it.

"I'm probably going to die anyway," I said. "Something will rupture or get infected, and that will be it. The question is when."

"It may be longer than you think," Amanda said. "Dad told me that Officer Harris got into a bad motorcycle accident before he came to Cool World. He says the accident happened somewhere around 1940, but Harris somehow remained young and in perfect health for more than fifty years, until the Vegas incident forced him back into your world. Then he started bleeding and everything." She cinched the scarf tight. "He was one hundred percent noid. You could probably live twice that long."

"That's different. Isn't it? I mean, he got injured outside Cool World?"

Amanda only shrugged.

I glanced over at the white shape sprawled on the floor. "Sneezer?"

No answer.

"Sneezer!" I shouted, hurrying to his side.

It seemed, despite all the pain, I wasn't as injured as I thought, and flickering animated, I pushed myself.

The mouse looked dead. Amanda and I gazed at him in sadness.

My sister grabbed his chin, moving his head back and forth. Sneezer's eyes had turned into a pair of letter Xs.

She put her fingers to his throat, listened to the side of his chest that didn't have blades sticking out of it.

She looked at me, shaking her head. "These weapons are real. You're part human. That's the only reason why you lived."

Dane and Riffraff joined us around the mouse's body.

"So the mouse is gone forever?" Dane asked.

I shrugged. "Looks like it."

"Wait." Amanda yanked the suriken out of Sneezer's chest. "Maybe we can save him."

She pressed her face to the bloody chest, listening for a pulse.

Nothing. "I thought that would work."

My sister and I stared at each other.

"What now," I said. "Do we have a cemetery or something?"

Amanda put a hand on my shoulder. "You were closest to him. If anyone can save him now, it's you."

"Me?" I cried in disbelief. "What can I do?"

She pointed to Extra, raising an eyebrow.

I frowned at the dead body. "Look. I don't feel like crying. We didn't have that kind of relationship. To me honest, I didn't really like him that much."

Amanda looked disappointed. Disappointed in me.

I swallowed.

"True love's kiss," she blurted.

"Excuse me?" I said.

I had heard her just fine. I just didn't want to admit that I understood what she said.

"A few years ago...I had a run-in with Myxo. I almost..." She shuddered. "I died. But daddy, he kissed me. On the head. He was crying."

She turned her face toward Sneezer.

"Well," I said. "It's been nice knowing him."

Amanda gave me this face that said, `Are you kidding me.'

I rolled my eyes. "Oh all right."

And so I...gave Sneezer a chaste peck on the forehead.

Nothing.

"Drew..." Amanda urged.

I glared at her. "I'm sorry, Amanda. Sneezer's gone."

"Is that how you treat all your friends?" she asked. "Is that how you'd treat me?"

"And who makes him sleep on a bed that drops him into a bottomless pit? I don't see you crying."

"He's closer to you," she urged.

And then Extra popped out of my shirt to give his two cents. "What happened to the master I knew? The one who cares deeply for birds and other helpless animals?"

I heard a chorus of sad `yeahs' coming from the rafters. When I looked up, a dozen bird faces pouted at me.

I reddened. "Seriously?"

"It's just a kiss, Drew," Amanda said quietly. "One kiss."

I leaned over the body. "You'd better not be putting me on."

Sneezer's chest wasn't moving. This didn't seem to be a joke.

It didn't look like he was playing dead to steal a kiss.

I hoped.

I came closer to his head.

"As the rat," Amanda said. "He really liked you as a rat."

I was flickering between Scouter Drew and my real self. "I don't have that much control."

"I think you do," she said. "Breathe."

I did that little cyclic breath routine, and I was French Maid Rat again.

I came closer.

And closer.

I touched my muzzle to his, parting his lips.

I pulled away, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing.

"Is that the best you can do?" my sister asked.

"Yes," I said indignantly.

"Drew..."

"Amanda!" I cried. "This is gross!"

"You came so close. Just try a little bit harder. Maybe you could pretend it's me."

"Dammit," I grumbled. "Fine."

Pretend it's me.

I really didn't want to do it.

Really, really didn't want to do it.

But I did it anyway.

I closed my eyes, pressed my lips to his, and I pretended to be kissing...someone else.

When my eyes came open, I still saw the letter X instead of Sneezer's eyes.

I sighed in relief, but couldn't help but feel a teensy bit disappointed.

I shook my head. "Guys, it didn't work."

That's when Sneezer's eyes turned back into beady little dots.

His arms shot up around my neck, and he brought me down to his face, kissing me passionately.

I flailed my arms, tried to push him away.

Then I stopped struggling.

I kissed back.

What's happening to me? I thought. Oh God, what's happening to me?

I closed my eyes and kissed.

Do I care?