A month had come and gone. Hoppity was doing great, and was happy about that, which is always good. But something not good hung in the alleyways near the city.

The taller one shook her head, "Moose and squirrel haven't been in college for years," she said in heavily-accented voice, "I don't understand what we're doing here."

"Frog," shrugged the shorter.

"What?"

"Frog!" he repeated, "We're meant to kidnap a frog and that will lead Moose and Squirrel to us!"

"Boris," she muttered, "Frogs don't live in cities."

Almost to spite her, Hoppity passed by at that very moment. He was too absorbed in looking over his latest assignment to notice either.

Suddenly, Boris reached out and grabbed. Hoppity dropped his assignment, struggling his hardest to detach his elbows from Boris' grip. Natasha slipped and tightened a bag over his head.

In their haste they didn't bother to pick up the assignment, which Hoppity had already written his name on.

It was picked up in a breeze and splattered right onto a strikingly orange moose's antlers. He didn't notice, but his floating gray partner did.

"Bullwinkle! You've got something in your antlers!"

"Ooh! A surprise hat!"

"No!" chuckled Rocky, flying up and grabbing the paper. "Hm."

"What is it?"

"It's a… med student paper. By Hoppity Hooper."

"Hoppity Hooper," Bullwinkle muttered, "The frog who had a show after ours that absolutely tanked in ratings?"

"I can't think of any other cartoon frogs," Rocky said as he landed, "Wonder what he's doing here."

"And studying medicine."

"Well, you know how his uncle is. Wait-" he started to float again, meeting Bullwinkle's eyes, "Student! Bullwinkle, do you think he could be going to Wossamotta now?"

"Sure, it has been 55 years!"

"Well," Rocky mused, "We'd better return this then."

"Wait just a minute, Rock. We don't know where Hoppity lives. I mean, lives now."

"Oh, you're right," Rocky hummed, "Well, better start knocking on doors, huh?"

Meanwhile, at the Hooper home, Waldo was absolutely in hysterics that Hoppity wasn't home yet.

"Waldo, it's two minutes past three," reminded Fillmore.

Waldo uselessly grabbed at his lapel, tears streaming down his face. "Wh-hw-where's the police- we-we gotta find him."

"Get offa me," Fillmore commanded, effortlessly picking up Waldo and holding him on his shoulder before he could do anything. "Hoppity has friends, Waldo, I'm sure he just caught up with one of em."

But Waldo wasn't consoled. Fillmore sighed.

"He's not back by four we'll go out looking okay?"

"I can't believe my baby's missing and you're waiting an hour before going to find him!" Waldo cried, trying his hardest to escape. "Put me down!"

Fillmore obliged, still holding his arms. "Will a liverwurst sandwich keep you docile for an hour?"

"...maybe."

Fillmore chuckled, releasing him to make said sandwich. "Terrible," he muttered, "We're terrible parents."

"Fuck off."