Drew

"So," Amanda said as she was drove me to the apartment. "How was slave duty?"

"It was all right," I said, idly playing with my tail. For the last fifteen minutes or so, I had been sort of the male version of Vanessa Vixx. I had cat ears, a tail, slacks, and a windbreaker with an ascot. I supposed my ink levels were balancing out or something. "I made about fifty bucks, five fifty counting the survey I took."

"That's great!" she said. "How'd you pull that off?"

And so I told her about my day.

I'd done a thorough search of the junkyard, finding a wide assortment of Acme products of varying degrees of usefulness.

It also contained a creepy looking altar covered with arcane markings, surrounded by skulls on pikes. I'm not sure what that was about, but the moment I saw green translucent hands reaching out of it, I hurried away as quick as I could. Especially when it thundered, and lightning flashed across the stone obelisks.

I slipped on a puddle of green slime, coming away from the mess with my hands covered in black feathers. I wiped my hands, backing away further.

It seemed the thunderstorm was some sort of microburst, for the weather returned to normal once I returned to the steadily growing pile of Acme items I had gathered together.

At any rate, I discovered that half the items that backfired on Wiley Coyote, such as explosives or Triple Strength Battleship Armor Plate, did so due to improper use.

"That pair of skis look fine to me," Wordsworth said as I examined a bent up pair of roller skis. "Why they're broke is a mystery."

He and Mongo had been assigned to help me while Riffraff and Cleo `enjoyed the evening'.

"Maybe all terrain wheels will help," I muttered. "And maybe an instruction manual telling you not to roll off a cliff."

"Duh, maybe you could make some padding," Mongo said. "So that people don't get hurt!"

I nodded. "I knew you were smarter than you acted!"

The big gray cat smiled stupidly, sticking his finger in his ear.

We'd been looking at stuff like this for what seemed like hours. I still didn't know what to think about the jet propelled pogo stick. Why would anyone want to buy something like that?

"I bet you could bounce to the moon with that," Mongo said as I turned it over in my hands.

"The thing's a bust," Wordsworth agreed. "There's too much thrust."

We'd actually fixed the thing once, and I ended up punching a hole in the roof of the office building behind the dump.

Excuse me. Holes.

Honestly, it weirded me out. First I'm screaming my head off as I'm bouncing a few hundred miles above Toon Town, then I'm slamming into an actual executive office with real people in it. I destroyed a desk in the Payroll office and broke a bunch of stuff, keyboards, monitors, some kind of decorative vase.

A short little black man, probably the CEO, looked all pissed off, but not completely surprised.

I ended up sprawled on my back in their meticulously cut back yard, which, for some reason, had real grass in it.

I kind of guessed I might not be considered for employment there anytime soon, but hey, no big loss.

At any rate, the pogo stick worked, so we scoured the junkyard for anything that could control the rockets' thrust.

We used a push button car radio for a control unit, which added kind of a fun extra feature. For the rocket choke mechanism, we used part of a discarded mouse strangulation machine.

In case you're wondering, you would have had to shove Sneezer's head inside the cage and waited for the slow moving hand to tighten around his neck for it to even work. The owner must have decided it easier just to strangle mice the old fashioned way.

In Cool World, wiring is oversimplified. Everything is red, green, yellow or some other pastel color, like that TV game show where you defuse bombs full of tapioca pudding. Absurdly simple. As long as you're not colorblind, all you had to do was connect red to red, blue to blue, green to green. Hook it up to the generic gray box and you're done.

So...skipping over the boring technical details (because there aren't any), we developed a successful prototype, with six channel change buttons for six different height settings, as well as a music shutoff switch.

Sure, still probably a recipe for disaster (like if someone decided to change channels), but a vast improvement to the uncontrollable joke of a product the Acme company devised.

I did the generic cartoon thing of creating a pad suit with pillows and such, which worked fairly well for my purposes.

I safely cruised the neighboring area tune of Satisfaction, rising no further than rooftop level on a small house.

I landed fairly gracefully in front of a house, which would have been great, had I not gotten mobbed by strange looking cartoon kids.

The doodles looked like they had been drawn by someone with Parkinson's, a yellow guy with a buzz cut and a green jacket, a tan guy with a black hat, a red faced guy, a kid with that old kind of braces where the metal wraps around your face, and an Indian kid.

Ed, Edd and Eddie.

They even had the kid with the smiley face piece of wood hanging out with them.

They didn't stare at me that much, probably because they lived among weird looking characters all day. They mostly stared at the pogo stick, asking me for rides. I said no, I was looking to sell.

"I'll give you a hundred jawbreakers for it!" said the pink faced one with the red and yellow shirt.

"Try a hundred dollars," I said.

"We don't have a hundred dollars," said the Ed with the black cap and the orange shirt.

They were kids, and the materials I used were recycled, so I said, "Can you at least meet me halfway at fifty? I'll throw in the padding."

"We don't have fifty," said the cap guy.

Groaning, I said, "How much do you have?"

They offered me two dollars and fifty cents.

"That's our final offer," one of the Eds said.

"No deal," I replied. "I'm certain the materials alone go for around forty five."

Admittedly, not my materials, but I figured the junkyard owner would be reimbursed for them, one way or another.

"We've got twenty two fifty," said the stupid cross eyed one, Ed, I believe, and not Double D.

The other kids glared at the slow kid.

"Don't tell him that!" snapped Hat Guy.

"Twenty five," I said. "That's as low as I'll go."

Violins played as Eddy told me some store about how they were saving the money to build a giant treehouse with a jawbreaker dispenser and a soda machine or something ridiculous like that.

"You don't have to buy it. Build your treehouse. I'll sell this to someone else."

"I'll go get the money jar," Ed said.

He zipped away, coming back with a handful of cash...and change.

So I had my first sale.

When I told the cats at the dump about it, they got excited and thought I was, or rather, they were going to be millionaires overnight.

I explained that wasn't how it worked. I frowned at the money I collected, worried about someone stealing it, like the kids, or even a cat.

"Is there a bank around here?" I asked.

"I wouldn't use it if I were you," Hector replied. "They get robbed every day, and blown up every week."

"There's a superhero bank in town," Wordsworth said. "But they won't accept just any clown."

"I'll have to ask dad," I muttered, stuffing the money in my colonial peacoat. I'd probably lost it to Hammerspace, but oh well.

We tinkered with a few more things that evening, a primitive sort of DaVinci inspired airplane that you pedaled, a jet propelled unicycle (I put car tires on the sides for support), and a hot air balloon, among other objects.

I found a few Acme products that I couldn't fathom, like the large `Artificial Rock', the `Earthquake Pills', or the `Anti-Nightmare Machine' that resembled a mechanical bull.

I also found something called an `Electric Eye Security System', an item so basic that you could do better building one from scratch.

We modified some rocket skates to operate at a slower speed and sold those, but that was about it for the evening.

"It sounds like you're finding your niche," Amanda said when I had finished telling her all this.

I just frowned. "I'm not so sure. It's all a big gray area. The trade laws, the copyright laws, sales tax, espionage, insider trading...if we ever get big enough to get established, I don't know what will happen."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out." She paused. "Wait. What's this about a survey?"

I told her about the Survey Monkey.

She furrowed her brow. "Drew, I don't think that was such a good idea."

"He only asked me my address and stuff about George Wendt."

"That's just it. Doodles don't do that. Not for money, at any rate."

"So...what was that?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good." She smoothed out her see through plastic skirt. "What do you think of the outfit?"

She must have had another visit to the mold machine or something, because she now wore a little white and red jacket, midriff length, with long transparent sleeves. Through the skirt, I could see a white bikini bottom, trimmed with red piping, long white and red boots that came up way above the knees.

She had traded in the regular set of bunny ears for an angular slightly robotic looking pair. Overall, her outfit resembled that of a Japanese cartoon character.

I swallowed. "It's, uh...cute."

"Drew..." she said.

"Fine," I blurted. "It's really cute."

"Are you going to do it again?" Sneezer said over my shoulder.

The mouse had been quietly hanging around me as I worked all evening. Since I had been human, or at least male most of the time, I noticed his interest in me waning a little, but he kept on reading a bunch of books oddly specific to our situation, like Sexual Identity Issues In Half Doodle Hybrids, Loving the Transformed Humanoid, Bring Out the Amorous Rodent in Anyone, and Touching The Inner Rodent of a Shapeshifting Mutant.

I tried to peek at a couple of them, but he'd quickly shoved them back into Hammer Space.

"I don't think so," I answered, but Amanda said, "Anything's possible."

I sighed. "Do you really want to go back the way you were?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Do you?"

"I thought you wanted to become one hundred percent human."

Amanda frowned. "I do. But you obviously aren't happy about it. I thought maybe, since mom is still working on the cure..."

"That seems like a good idea," I said. "But I don't know if it would work. There's a chance you might just take whatever's left of my humanity and make me completely animated."

"I guess you're right. Still, I wonder what you were thinking when you were kissing Cupcake."

"Um..." I stammered. "`Get off me'?"

The expression on her face said that she didn't buy it. "Drew..."

"Okay," I blurted. "I admit she's a nice kisser, but I'm not into baby play."

My sister looked disappointed. "I suppose it's just as well. Dane is trying to sleep."

Chips pulled up in front of the apartment, and we all got out, Amanda folding the vehicle into a suitcase.

As we sat in the genie bottle elevator, staring at the sparkly designs on the walls, I felt something wrap around my tail. I was a rodent again, apparently, and Sneezer had taken advantage.

He seemed tired, leaning against me. It wasn't anything perverted, so I let him be for a few moments.

But then I noticed his paw sliding over my thigh.

I opened my mouth to complain, but then I changed to myself in animated male form, so he quickly pulled his paw away.

If Sneezer ever became bi, it would all be over.

When I entered the apartment, I saw Dane curled up on the little sofa by the bookshelves. To my chagrin, I saw that Amanda had been helping her dress. Not as risque, I admit, but still not the kind of thing you wear outside a nightclub.

All black, the upper portion a small sort of vest with a skull and snakes painted on it in sort of an Aztec style, with a tall fan collar. For the bottom portion she had a diagonally slanting skirt with a skull on the butt. I noticed this last item because she had curled up with her rear end facing the door. Light glistened off her long boots, the wrist cuffs with spiky studs on them.

She didn't stir when we came in. It must have been a long day for her.

I wearily staggered over to the bed, flopping down onto the covers.

"Honey," Amanda said as she climbed in next to me. "You'll get it all wrinkled!"

I frowned. "What?"

"The French maid," she said, tugging at the bottom of my dress. I'd transformed again.

Another tug, and my outfit up like a window shade, leaving only the neck piece.

"I don't understand. How would that not wrinkle it?"

"This is Cool World. Just accept it."

When she pulled the collar over my head, I suddenly noticed I had been stripped to my underwear.

She pressed me to the bed, straddling my hips as she unbuttoned her skirt.

The birds squeezed out of my rolled up clothing, fluttering up to the bookshelves to get a good view of the action. Sneezer ate popcorn.

"No," I protested. "We're not doing that. We just had this discussion a few seconds ago."

Without a word, she unzipped her little jacket partway, taking out a flat little glistening package.

I groaned. "I see you've been giving this some thought."

She tore it open with her teeth, pulling out...a glowing condom.

She stretched it out. It was animated, but thankfully without a talking face.

"Okay...a lot of thought."

The mouse had brought out a chair from somewhere, slurping noisily from a soda as he watched. A real mouse would explode, because they can't digest carbonation. I kind of wished for it to happen...but then I kinda didn't.

As if this hadn't been embarrassing enough, I noticed Dane sitting up on the couch, staring at us. "You guys care if I watch?"

"Not at all," my sister said.

She waved the condom at me. "I thought about getting Midnight Cowboy or the French Tickler, but I wasn't sure you'd want it talking back."

I nodded. "That definitely would have been disturbing!"

I flickered, transforming into a humanoid rat creature.

"Now," she breathed, laying down on top of me. "Let's see who kisses better. Me, or Queen Poopy Bird."

"Honestly," Dane said. "You'd have to wash a lot less cars if more birds did wear Depends."

My sister turned her head to glare at her. "Dane, sweetie, I don't mind you watching, but could you refrain from talking until the end of the performance?"

Giggling through her nose, Dane pantomimed zipping her lips.

As Amanda brought her chin close, lips poised to meet mine, I turned real. "You know, we never really kissed that much before."

"A pity," she said, giving me a deep heavy one.

After about a minute or so of doing this, rubbing up against me and everything, she pulled away and said, "How's that compare to bird beak?"

Ironically, I had become a crow. "I don't know which is worse," I chirped. "Telling you I like kissing Diaper Bird, or saying that my sister kisses better than...my other girlfriends?"

"Half sister," she purred, kissing me again. "But I'll take it."

I was now green and had antennas sticking out of my head, but I was still male, and only wore a pair of boxers. She sat back on my legs, tugging the shorts down.

"This isn't right," I said.

"We've got protection, and you're green," she answered, like that made it okay.

I transformed into my cartoon self image, ink and paint underwear around my knees. "I know. It's still wrong."

"Your Like Meter is saying something else."

"What does it know?"

She shrugged. "It knows what it likes."

She unrolled the cartoon contraceptive over my Like Meter.

Once it had been stretched to a certain length, I noticed a mustache on it, and a thin little mouth.

The mouth opened. "You have a wee weewee, monsieur."

"Oh damn," Amanda said. "I grabbed the wrong ones." Really, she didn't seem to be that upset.

I paled. "Ones? As in plural?"

That's when I heard a muffled "Whee doggies!"

"I hope you don't mind too much." She pulled the French Tickler all the way on. "It doesn't look like you do..."

I thought of the phrase `Sacre bleu' and immediately cringed. "What happens if I turn into a female? Is it just going to fall off?"

"Why would it fall off?" She removed my boxers completely. "More than fifty percent of what you turn into has to do with your psychological state. I should know, I've dealt with it all my life."

I said turned into an anatomically correct robot. "Then...maybe we should spend the evening practicing how to do that."

She fingered the French Tickler. "Exactly. This is going to be an educational experience for both of us."

"Wait. What are you going to learn?"

"Technique."

I had become a naked clown, but she didn't care. She grabbed my hands, sliding my fingers into the waistband of her bikini bottom.

"But it'll fall off, right? If I abruptly change sexes for a minute?"

"It's animated," she said, following up with a kiss. "It can go concave, like a diaphragm."

"I was not aware that monsieur's weewee was that wee wee," the tickler said. "But I will accommodate whatever madame wishes."

"You had to get the talking condom," I groaned.

She honked my red nose. "It won't talk so much once it's inside something."

That just made me shudder.

I was real, and naked, with my fingers in her waistband, but I still hesitated.

I really wasn't sure I wanted to go through with this. I know what my body told me, but c'mon. We're related.

She made my fingers pull the bikini bottom off.

Well, I thought as she rubbed against me, easing herself down to the point of insertion. I suppose this is nothing I haven't done before.

That's as far as we got.

Suddenly I had breasts, my voice raising a couple octaves as I softly moaned.

"Sacre bleu!" cried the Tickler. "Where did you go?"

"C'mon Drew!" Amanda growled as she rubbed up and down against my orange furry body. "Focus! Think about me! Think about how I make you feel!"

"I am!" I said.

"Then pretend I'm someone else! Cupcake, and ex girlfriend, anything!"

She kissed my muzzle like a sex starved lesbian, fondling me all over the place. I only turned into a girl parrot.

"You're my sister," I explained.

In a fit of sexual frustration, she let out that Yosemite Sam noise. It sounded just like her mother, which killed the mood even more. I turned into a female bat.

"Fine!" she shouted, climbing off the bed. "I get it! You don't like women! I understand completely! I don't either!"

"I thought you were going to train him," Dane said.

Both I and my sister glared at her.

The human raised her hands defensively. "You said to wait until the show was over..."

Amanda shook her head, pulling her bikini bottom back on. "I said I'd train him, not control his mind."

I turned into rat girl. Realizing who was looking at my nipples, I quickly covered myself with sheets.

My sister seemed to notice this, for she marched up to the mouse, snatching away his popcorn bucket. "All right, Sneezer. You give it a try. He's going to break, one way or another!"

The mouse eagerly leapt to his feet, rubbing his paws together. "Hot diggity dog!"

As he jumped into bed with me, Amanda took a seat in Sneezer's chair, scooping mouthfuls of popcorn into her mouth as she slowly crossed and uncrossed her legs.

"Wow," Sneezer said as he took off his jacket. "I know you promised a date, but I had no idea it was that kind of date!"

"It's not," I stammered. "Really, Sneezer. Believe me, it's not."

"Then why are your nipples hardening?"

I pulled the covers back up, letting out an embarrassed squeak. "It's cold!"

He pulled off his shirt and laid on top of me, rubbing his naked chest against my bare breasts. "Then let me warm you."

I let out my loudest girly scream ever, and actually did that thing where you turn into a puff of smoke, jump through a wall, and leave a hole shaped like your body behind you.

On my way back downstairs, I collided with a figure in a yellow jumpsuit.

Reddish brown hair. Sort of freckly.

"April!" I blurted.

The woman narrowed her eyes at me. "Do I know you?"

"Uh, no," I said. "I just...loved that piece you did about the Foot Clan."

She smiled. "Thank you."

There was an awkward pause. I guessed it might have something to do with me being naked, but Bugs Bunny was naked, and nobody cared about that.

"So," I said. "What are you doing up here?"

April took out a notepad. "I'm investigating an incident that happened at the C.C. Knicknockers establishment earlier today, one resulting in several injuries and thousands of dollars in property damage. It appears that, before the incident, a brown rodent in a kimono had been sighted in the area..."

Unsurprisingly, I just so happened to match that description, without the clothes.

"Have you noticed anything unusual in the area lately? Any strange new tenants?"

That tenant would be me. "No..."

April frowned.

"Don't look at me. I don't even own a kimono."

She sighed, staring like she didn't quite believe me, but then did that thing you see in all those Fugitive type movies, when the guy puts on a really bad disguise, and the cop is too dumb to realize that the sketchy guy with the false mustache and glasses is still wearing a prison uniform. "My apologies, ma'am. I've just heard reports of a doodle matching that description, and a vehicle similar to the one found at the scene of the crime was seen at this location."

The Owlmobile had been to the high rise a few times.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

She looked even more suspicious, then even more like a dopey movie cop.

"Well, if you ever do see her, tell her she's an inspiration to all animal lovers, and I'd love to have an interview with her."

As flattering as this all was, I suspected this to either be a trap, or a great way to get my ass kicked by Miss Terious's goons.

"I'll...let her know."

She gave me a weird look again, then walked away.

You're a cartoon, I told myself. Cartoons never have a dull moment. That's good and bad. I wandered down the hallway, trying to sort out my thoughts.

"I see you're enjoying yourself." I looked up and saw Amanda's mother, now in human form. Fair skin, hair the color of tarnished gold.

When I looked at myself, I saw that I was human again, and naked. "Actually, fun was trying to be had with me, and I wasn't having it."

She rolled her eyes like I did that kind of thing all the time, then pointed to a watch on her wrist. "See that? I haven't turned into a doodle for more than twelve hours!"

"You found a cure?" I shouted with barely contained excitement.

"It's difficult to say," she said. "But so far, I haven't changed back. I think it's a very good sign. Come into my suite. I'll show you."