Chapter 11 – Your worst enemy

"Cute."

Dot's eyes were closed shut, and she couldn't open them. She had no idea what was going on around her. She tried to lift her hand to rub her head, but it was like there were no muscles left in her arm. She tried to open her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. What was going on?

"Sweet."

She tried to think, but her mind wouldn't let her. Everything that had happened for the past few hours was like a blank space in her head. Had she even been awake? Was it morning now, and everything had just been a dream?

"Adorable."

Boy, it sure felt silly just lying there, not being able to do anything, while some people chanted around her. Who were they? Stalkers talking about her looks?

"Hot."

Yeah, definitely stalkers. No one but a stalker would look at a lifeless body and constantly talk about how it looked. Still, they sounded more feminine than the stereotypical stalkers Dot had heard about.

"Sexy."

Wait a minute . . . Did she just say 'lifeless body'? (Dot tried to do the usual gulp everyone does when they're scared, but she couldn't) Was she dead? Was she really gone? And were those voices some kinds of angels, greeting her in heaven?

"Slutty."

No, not angels. Angels wouldn't say stuff like that. Could it be that she, Dot Warner, was actually going to Hades? It couldn't be. It just couldn't!

Finally, Dot remembered how to speak. "I . . . have . . . not . . . been a . . . bad . . . girl!" she managed to say.

The chanters stopped. "Oh, look who decided to join us," said one of them. She sounded very young.

"Wow, she's a mess," said another one. Dot figured she was older than the first. "No wonder they gave up on her."

Dot was tired of being the only one on the scene that wasn't standing or talking, so she opened her eyes. "Okay, that was easy," she said. "Who knew?" She didn't say anything else. However, what she saw made her want to scream her lungs out.

She knew she was lying on something – she felt it – but when she looked around, she saw nothing but black. Like she was floating in mid-air. She shot up from where she was lying and had a better look. No matter where she turned, she could only see black.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, Dot could finally see the chanters. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was basically seeing . . .

"Six versions of . . . me," Dot said in a low voice.

"You better believe it," said the first chanter. She looked like Dot had when she was a little younger – complete with the big, puffy cheeks and high-pitched voice. She put one hand behind her back and the other on her cheek, and smiled very cutely. "I'm Cute, aren't I?"

Dot turned her head and saw another version of her. That one looked a little older, possibly as old as she was now, but notably thinner. She made a curtsy and smiled. "I'm Sweet – as in: sweeter than aspartame."

"And don't forget about me," said another version. Dot scanned her image as well. She looked slightly different from the other two. She was clearly older; skinny; had a sunflower in her ears; and Dot could've sworn she wore a little make-up. She giggled a bit before speaking. "I'm Adorable, don'cha think?"

Dot didn't know if she wanted to see the rest, but looked around for the next version nonetheless. It appeared right in front of her; even skinnier than Adorable, but seemed to be in more shape; the flower was gone; there was a fluffy top over her forehead; and the make-up was clearer. The usual pink skirt had been replaced with a short denim one, and she was wearing a green top as well. When Dot looked closer, she also saw that her chest was bigger.

"Hello, Dot," she said as she put one hand on her hip. "I'm Hot. Hottie, hot, hottie, some might say," she added and winked.

At that point, Dot really didn't want to see the last two versions. But she had no choice, as the fifth one walked by her. She was skinnier than Hot, but taller; her hair was straighten; the green top was gone, and a tight, blue t-shirt was there instead; her face was almost drowning in make-up; and as she moved, she wiggled her hips and flipped her hair. She looked at Dot and gave her a finger kiss.

"Hi, dear," she said. "I'm Sexy. Very sexy."

Dot gulped. "That just leaves . . . "

"Slutty? You bet'cha," said the last version. She looked horrible. Her body looked like a skeleton with fur on it; her face looked like she had dumped it into a tub of make-up; she wore only a very small, low, red skirt, a very small, gray top and high-heeled boots; her long, black hair was so straight, there was almost no life left in it; and she moved around very slowly and sexily, as if trying to say: 'Come and get me – I'm all open!'

"What is this?" Dot had to shout. "Some kind of a masquerade party with a Dot theme?"

All the Dots looked at each other, and then at Dot. Cute stepped forward and cleared her throat.

"Not at all, dear," she said. "It's much more serious than that."

"Serious?" said Dot, not convinced. "What could possibly be so serious about this?"

"Well, maybe if you'd shut up and let me explain, you'd understand a little more," said Cute and frowned.

Dot crossed her arms and gave a little 'hmp' before deciding to let Cute speak.

"Are we cool? Okay, good," said Cute and smiled again. "So, you want to know what's going on and who we are? That's an easy question. We are all supposed to represent you in a certain point of your life. Each person has stages like this. You know, like baby, child, teenager, adult, old person . . . you get the drill. Anyway, so we're your stages of life."

"Stages of life?" said Dot and scoffed. "Oh, come on. Get real! I'll never grow up to be as ugly as Slutty! I'm the cute one!"

"Riiiight . . . " said Cute, looked away and chuckled. "The cute one."

"What are you laughing at?" Dot exclaimed. "I've always been the cute one! And some survey isn't gonna stop me!"

"Oh? But it's gonna start you, right?" said Cute. "I mean, if it hadn't been for the survey, you probably never would have lost so much weight; or become a model; or gone out clubbing."

"That was a one time thing," said Dot, and felt her face get a little warmer.

"Right, sure," said Cute. "And your head trauma is a result of you falling down the stairs. Dot, you're the one who needs to get real!"

"What do you mean?" said Dot. "Head trauma? When did I get that? I don't remember anything about any head trauma."

"That's because it knocked you out," said Cute and shrugged. "You're knocked out in reality, and this is a dream. Freaky thought, huh?"

Dot looked at all the other versions of her. "Wait a minute . . . how can this be a dream if I've never seen you guys? I can't dream about something I don't know about."

Cute rolled her eyes. And people wonder why I hate being in a cartoon fanfiction. So much explaining . . . She cleared her throat again. "Okay, I guess it's up to me to do what we were sent here to do," she said, and started walking towards Dot.

"Aw, why do you get to do the fun stuff?" said Hot and crossed her arms.

"Yeah, you're the youngest!" said Adorable. "I think the later versions should show her around."

"Or, maybe not," said Slutty. All the other versions gave her a look, including Dot. "Think about it: if Cute gives the tour, then we'll have more room to do our own stuff. You know, more for us."

The versions looked at each other, grinned, and then nodded at Cute, who nodded. Dot didn't like where this was going. What in the world were they talking about? Someone had sent them? Fun stuff? Tour? Their own stuff? This was definitely one screwed up dream.

Dot couldn't dive any deeper into her thoughts, because Cute grabbed her wrist and pulled her upwards. Dot hadn't expected it, and shrieked for a while before realizing that they were flying in the huge, black space.

"What's going on?" she shouted, while floating sort of helplessly in the 'air'. "What did they mean back there? Where are we going? And how can you fly?"

Cute didn't answer, but Dot saw that she frowned, and mumbled something. Wow, that girl seriously needed to cheer up. She acted like Dot was some sort of a third class person!

"Girl, what's up with you?" Dot had to ask. "You've been kinda cranky ever since you introduced yourself."

"Talk later," said Cute, and just kept on flying.

Dot couldn't really figure out how Cute knew where she was going, because she only saw black, and nothing else. No signs, no maps, no roads; the place was deserted. If this was a dream, like Cute said, then why was her mind so blank?

Finally, Dot noticed Cute was taking the flight downwards. In a few seconds, it felt like she could touch ground again (of course, she couldn't see it). Cute swapped some unnoticeable dust off her skirt and fixed the flower in her ears – which hadn't moved. Dot, however, merely stood on the same spot and looked around, even if she knew that there was nothing to see.

"Now, are we finally going to do this tour or what?" said Cute.

"What? No way," said Dot and pointed at Cute. "First, I need some answers. Answers to the previous questions."

"Look, I already told you what's going on," said Cute.

"Maybe, but you still haven't explained the whole tour thing!" Dot almost yelled. Cute was driving her crazy! Dot didn't remember having that kind of attitude at that age . . .

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you about the tour. Sheesh . . . " said Cute and shook her head. "Okay, so you went out for a car ride with Hello Nurse, and you two decided to step out for a little while to get some fresh air, and maybe get some snacks. Unfortunately, someone came at you guys from behind, and hit you in the head. He was just about to hit the nurse too, but she somehow managed to grab you and get off the scene."

"Okay, so this explains the head trauma," said Dot. "But you're not even close to telling me about the stupid tour!"

"Let. Me. Finish," said Cute behind grinned teeth. It was obvious that the whole thing was driving her crazy as well. "When you got hit on the head, your brain knew you were about to be knocked out. So, it sent a message to your inner mind – the one you are in now – to make the stages of your life tell you what made you what you are, yadda, yadda . . . got it?"

"My . . . brain?" said Dot, and automatically touched the back of her head.

"Uh, duuh!" said Cute. "Your brain is the first organ to response to such a thing and . . . oh, who am I kidding? You're a model. Let's just begin the tour, alright?"

"Hey! What's wrong with being a . . . " Dot couldn't finish her sentence, because as soon as she was about to, Cute reached for a remote control from her mallet space, and pressed a big, green button on it.

There was a loud BEEP and suddenly, Dot felt the black surrounding shake. She heard a hiss coming from everywhere, and the ground shook even harder. Dot covered her ears as a huge, gray box appeared out of the ground. It rose and rose, and finally, it stopped, and so did the shaking and hissing.

"What . . . what was that?" said Dot. "What is that?"

"That, my dear, is something we modern day people like to call a television, complete with a huge, flat, wide screen. Neat huh?" said Cute, who had sat down on a cushion in front of the big screen. She pointed on one that was beside her. "Sit down. We're going channel surfing."

Dot obeyed, and sat down on the cushion next to Cute's. Cute reached for the remote again, and turned on the TV.

"What are you going to do now?" said Dot. "Is this a part of the tour?"

"This is the tour," said Cute, and began changing the channels. "You see, this isn't any ordinary TV, this is your life. What was, what is, what will be, what could have been, and what should have been. And in stereo too."

"So, you're saying that each channel is some point of my life?" said Dot. "Wow. That's so science-fictiony . . . and "Christmas carol"-y."

"Think all you want, but if you're interested in looking, I've finally found the first channel you're supposed to see," said Cute. "What could have been."

"And what does that mean?" said Dot.

"Right now, it means what your life could have been like if the survey had never been done," said Cute. "All the people you've met after you saw the result wouldn't be like they are today if you hadn't taken that survey so seriously."

"Oh yeah?" said Dot and crossed her arms. "Like who? Honestly, what has this got to do with anything?"

"Like I said before: if you'd shut up and let me explain, you'd understand a little more," said Cute. "Actually, just shut up and watch the screen. Oh, look! Here's your first person."

Dot looked up on the big screen, and saw none other than her brother, Yakko. It had been so long since she had seen him; she felt her stomach dive. Even worse, it looked like Yakko was miserable about something. He just lay in his bed with his arm across his face.

"What's wrong with him?" said Dot and stared at the screen. She was actually worried.

"This is how he looked like the day after you went out clubbing," said Cute. "People saw you, Dot, and they blogged about it. Hello Nurse showed your brothers the blogs, and when she left, Yakko went to his room and almost fell into self-pity."

"What do you mean 'almost'?" said Dot.

"You know Yakko," said Cute. "He's more of a physical wimp than a mental wimp, so he eventually got over the whole emo shock."

"Careless . . . That's all I've been . . . Mister Careless . . . "

Dot gasped. She had almost forgotten that TVs have sound too. "What does he mean?"

"He felt like he was responsible for everything that had happened," said Cute. "He felt like he had just watched everything occur, and did nothing about it." She looked up on the screen. "Ooh, look! It's changing into what could've been!"

Dot observed as the image of Yakko started to fade out, and another one faded in. That one was much more colorful, and had way more movement in it. It looked very familiar . . . It was the three of them running from Ralph the guard.

Dot's stomach dove even deeper. She really missed those times, where they didn't have to worry about anything. "Did I make Yakko so sad?"

"Not exactly you, but your doings," said Cute. "May I remind you to keep an eye on the screen? Your second person is here."

Dot felt a small lump start to form in her throat as she saw Wakko appear on the screen. He was sitting in front of a desktop computer and it looked like he was staring at something on its screen. Every now and then, he pointed at it too, as if he was counting something.

"What's he doing?" said Dot, who had already become very curious about this behavior.

"He's counting the survey results," said Cute, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"What?" Dot exclaimed. "Why? To make it look like he won?"

"Oh, stop pretending to still think he's behind this," said Cute. "Besides, everything on this channel happens after the survey came out."

"I knew it! It's all a fake!"

"It was . . . a fake?" said Dot, surprised, and for some reason, her mood brightened up instantly – just like Wakko's had on the screen.

But as the image went on, Dot noticed that Wakko's face became sadder and sadder. She watched as he scrolled the page up and down repeatedly, always counting and trying to notice any slight details. He then sighed, took a diskette out of the computer and turned it off. He picked up some file and put it back in a shelf, before walking out of the room groaning.

"What's wrong?" said Dot. "Why'd he do that?"

"Because he found out that he was wrong," said Cute. "People actually had voted him the cutest. Don't you see what's going on here? Wakko was trying to prove that the survey was faked in any way, just to make you like him again. And he's still at it. He even teamed up with Brain to find out something more."

"He did all this . . . just to get me back?" said Dot, and felt the lump in her throat growing.

"Yes," said Cute. "But you're so oblivious to it, because you never even wanted to look at him."

Dot looked back at the screen, and saw the image of the three of them annoying Ralph again. Of course: Wakko would be in the same place as Yakko if none of this had happened.

"Alright, and here's your third and last person so far," said Cute.

Dot sighed as she saw an image of Flash Cable appear on the screen. He was sitting in his chair, with his elbows on his knees and rubbing his head.

"This is how he looked like just after he fired you," said Cute. "He has been miserable for the past few days because of the night he was threatened." She snapped her fingers. "Say, remember the time he told you he was a little off because he was tired? That he had some personal problems, like hard decisions?"

Dot thought for a moment. "Yeah, I remember. It was after I . . . went out clubbing."

"Exactly," said Cute. "Well, the very night you went out clubbing, he was threatened. And he couldn't get it out of his head. Heck, he still can't! This may just be me, but I think he's been permanently scarred."

"Oh no . . . All because of me?" said Dot, her stomach taking a dive yet again.

"You got it," said Cute. "Now, let's see what he would be like if the survey hadn't been done – thus never meeting you."

The image of the pale, miserable Flash faded away, and another faded in. In that one, Flash was in his happy, zany mood again, wielding his camera like a weapon and using his infamous body language on a model Dot had never seen.

Dot's eyes began to tear up, but she wiped them off before Cute noticed. "You mean to tell me that I've ruined people's lives?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," said Cute and started flipping the channels again. "Those were just images you were supposed to know about eventually. You can partly blame yourself for them, yes, but this was all bound to happen some day. After all, the survey has been done, and there's nothing we can do to change the past."

Dot lay down on her cushion. She had no idea that what she was doing had touched those boys so deep. Maybe none of this would have happened if she hadn't freaked out so much when she saw the survey results . . .

"Ooh! Here's a nice channel!" said Cute and put the remote down. "What should have been."

"What's on there?" said Dot.

"Oh, usually not much," said Cute, and then suddenly gasped. "Hang on! I didn't know they were showing The stages of life tonight! Oh wow, this is your luck in the bad luck, Dot. You should totally watch this."

"Okay, it's not like I have a choice," said Dot. "What's it about?"

"It's basically us, your stages of life, but how we looked before you went all wonky," said Cute, put her arms behind her head and lay down on her own cushion.

"You mean this whole thing has changed my life too?" said Dot.

"Well, duh!" said Cute. "You were never supposed to look like you do now, you know. And if you were, you wouldn't look like it until you'd reach at least 27. So basically, when you began all this crud – the working out, make-up, and bulimia – you changed the lot of us. This program will show you what we looked like before all that."

Dot gulped. Did she really want to see how she was supposed to look like? It's never a good idea to see the future, after all. But, since she had already seen the other images, she couldn't just back out now.

A small baby Dot came on the screen. She had very short hair, a small face, and was wearing a light pink continuum. She wasn't old at all – possibly two or three years old. She crawled a little, and then giggled.

"Is this . . . " Dot began.

"Me," said Cute and smiled. "I'm your baby stage. Aren't I the cutest thing? Even as a baby?"

Dot looked at the baby again, and then at Cute. She couldn't believe how much older Cute looked compared to the baby stage.

Suddenly, completely out of the blue, the baby stood up. She started to take off her continuum, and pull her hair out of her head, making it longer. As the continuum fell of, the usual pink skirt appeared around her waist, and she put a flower on her ears. All this happened extremely fast, and Dot was looking at an image of Cute in a matter of seconds. The image put one hand behind her back, the other on her cheek, and smiled before saying: "Cute."

The picture faded away, and in came a new one. It wasn't a new sight for Dot, because the new image was basically her in her Animaniacs days (or, like she would look like now if she hadn't gotten bulimia and such). She hopped around a grassy field and laughed, while sometimes singing a few random tunes.

"This is Sweet, before you went bad," said Cute. "She's your child stage. I bet this didn't surprise you."

"No, it didn't," said Dot. She touched her hips, feeling almost nothing but bones. "I . . . I'm . . . I was . . . "

"Much cuter before all this?" Cute finished. "I know. But just wait. The show isn't over."

And it was right, because in the middle of a very happy jump, the child looked forward, made curtsy and said: "Sweet." But before the image faded out, the background became darker and Sweet became sadder.

Dot didn't have any time to ask about the sudden change of mood, because the next image was just about to come. Dot watched a young girl skip happily on a sidewalk and waving to everyone she met. She had Dot's child face, but her body had matured a bit. She wore a long, brown jacket, jeans and a pink turtleneck.

"This is Adorable," said Cute. "She's a pre-teen. Isn't she pre-tty?"

Dot couldn't help but agree, even though she didn't say anything. Her original pre-teen stage looked even better than she did now.

But as expected, the image didn't last very long. The girl slowed down her skipping, and was soon just walking very slowly. Her smile leaked off her face as she came to a complete halt. She looked down on her feet, and Dot watched in awe when the whole image itself started to fade away. A sunflower started to form in her ears; the turtleneck and jacket disappeared; and the pink skirt was already replacing the jeans. The girl looked up again, with a little make-up on her face, and said: "Adorable," before completely fading away in smoke.

Dot whimpered when she saw the next stage come on the screen. An even older girl was walking around in the snow, while it snowed around her. She wore a baby blue wool sweater, a matching hat and mittens, and baggy army-patterned pants. As she walked, she scoffed at the people that called her sexy or hot. "I'm cute, darn it!" she yelled at them, and laughed.

"And she's Hot today," said Cute. "Ironic, isn't it? Still, doesn't she look great as an older teen?"

"Yeah, she does," said Dot, still feeling unpleasant about her former stages looking better than herself.

She didn't have to wait long for the image to change. The girl began to look more serious; took off her mittens and hat, revealing her white gloves and the fluffy top on her forehead. She then pulled off the sweater, leaving only a green top behind. When Dot saw the whole image, she saw the short denim skirt instead of baggy pants. The girl put one hand on her hip and winked. "Hot."

When the image started to fade away to make room for the next one, Dot gulped. "Um, Cute . . . I'm not sure if I want to see the rest."

"Aw, come on," said Cute. "Now we're getting to the really good part."

Dot hesitated, but decided to peek at the screen (it was big enough to not be able to ignore it anyway). She didn't regret it, because the image was too funny to have missed. It was an adult Dot taking a turkey out of an oven. She walked out of the kitchen, and placed the turkey on a table. "Well, I guess I'm ready for the guests now," she said.

Cute giggled. "She's just so cute as a housemother. Dot, meet Sexy – as your adult stage. And notice how she still has your child face, and not all the make-up she has now."

Dot still couldn't believe what she was seeing. Would she actually be able to cook in the future? And invite people over for dinner? Now that was something to look forward to!

"Dot, don't forget that this is the future you bashed. You can't expect to come back to it like nothing happened," said Cute. Whoa, could she read minds?

But she was right. Dot had bashed her original future. As soon as the adult had taken off her baking gloves, she started to turn around in circles. Soon, Dot couldn't see anything but a dusty cloud. But eventually, the adult stopped spinning and the dust cleared. Out of it came the Sexy Dot had seen; looking a lot younger than an adult; the tight, blue t-shirt was back in place, along with the skirt; her short hair had become a little longer because it was straightened; and her face was covered with make-up. She gave a finger kiss. "Sexy."

Dot covered her eyes and started to sniffle. She was finally starting to realize what she had been doing to herself this whole time. Why hadn't she listened to her brothers?

She didn't have time to think about that, because the last image was already on screen. It was a very old Dot, and she sat in a sofa, having a look at some old photos. She was smiling very happily as she flipped the photos, supposedly remembering something from each and every one of them. "Wow, I really was cute back then."

Dot's eyes went teary again. "Oh, Cute, please . . . don't change her into Slutty. She looks so peaceful . . . and happy."

Cute shrugged. "Hey, I'm not the boss of this program. The stages just change, that's the rule."

And just like all the other stages, the old Dot hadn't come to stay. She threw the photos away, and stood up. She clapped her hands twice, making all the lights in the room turn off, except a spotlight where she was standing. She closed her eyes and grinned. Soon, she was surrounded by some kind of swirls. When they passed some part of her body, that part became much younger, and skinnier. Finally, she swirls left none other than Slutty; wearing only her low, red skirt, gray top, and high-heeled boots; and her lifeless, long, black hair flowing around her. She let her hand roll from her face, down her chest, and to her waist before saying: "Slutty."

At that point, Dot had dug her face into her cushion, not being able to take any more. Cute turned off the huge TV and stood up.

"Now . . . was this all worth it? Are you finally seeing that you are your own worst enemy?" she said in a deeper voice than usual.

Dot sniffled. "Definitely. I know this sounds totally Disney-ish, but I'm so sorry about everything I've done. Everything! I'm sorry about being mean to Wakko. I'm sorry about slapping Yakko. I'm sorry about becoming a model. I'm sorry about ruining Flash's life. And I'm sorry about bashing my future by getting bulimia!"

"Why are you apologizing to me?" said Cute in an even deeper voice. Dot noticed that the black surrounding had become even darker, so she couldn't see Cute's face. "I'm not the boss of your life."

"What . . . do you mean?" said Dot and sniffled again.

"I mean it," said Cute. Her voice was beginning to sound deeper than Slutty's. "You should really take the place as the boss of your life. You wouldn't want to end up . . . "

The black surrounding suddenly became blood red, and Dot could finally see Cute's face. It had scars all over it; the white fur had become brown and dirty because of all the make-up; her eyes were glowing red; her nose was pitch black; her hair was falling off; and to make things even worse, the face itself was beginning to leak off.

"LIKE THIS!!"

Dot screamed with all her might and panicked. She shot up from her cushion and started running away from Cute. She ran until she bumped into someone. It was Adorable.

"Adorable!" Dot panted. "You've gotta help me! Cute's face is . . . "

"All wrong?" said Adorable in the same deep voice as Cute. "I know. What do you expect? She is you."

Lightning fast, Adorable stuck a finger down her throat, and puked. The surrounding became redder, and it actually looked like it was bleeding. Dot screamed again and ran away.

She tried to find a place where she knew the stages couldn't reach her, but couldn't find any. Because the red surrounding looked endless, there didn't seem to be any corners or walls. Dot turned around and saw all her stages approaching her – all of them looking absurd. Cute had an ugly, leaking face; Sweet had a tilted zombie-like head; Adorable was smiling manically, drooling puke; Hot was holding a plastic surgery knife like a serial killer; Sexy had scratched her whole body, so she was bleeding like crazy; but Slutty looked just like she had, only she was drunk.

"What's wrong, Dot?" said Hot. "Don't you think we're cute?"

Dot started backing away from them, but couldn't get very far, because she started to fall. She screamed as she heard the deep voices of her stages all around her shout: "You had it coming! You had it all coming!!"

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Yakko and Wakko were about to lose all hope. Dot had been in a coma for almost two days, and it didn't look like she'd wake up in a while. They kept checking her breathing, heart beating, and any signs of movement, but nothing ever changed.

Suddenly, though, the two of them heard a small whimper coming from the girl under the covers. They shot up from where they were sitting and watched as Dot slowly began to open her eyes. When they were fully open, they started to tear up as she saw both her brothers standing above her.

Yakko smiled. "Hey, Dot," he almost whispered. "Welcome back."

Dot smiled back at her brother, and then looked at Wakko. Her heart stared pounding hard. "I'm . . . sorry," she had to say.

Wakko looked a bit confused at first, but when he figured out what she meant, he smiled back at her. "It's okay, Dot. I know you never really meant any of it to happen."

"I'm so sorry," Dot repeated weakly. "I'm sorry, both of you. I'm sorry for being such a . . . such a . . . such a bitch to you!"

Yakko gasped. "Dot!"

"Sorry," said Dot and tried to smile. "I gotta take advantage of the T-rating, right?"

Now it was the brothers' turn to get teary eyes. And even if she had just recovered from a coma, Dot struggled to sit up in her bed. Wakko took her hand and supported her back, and when she was up, she instantly flung her arms around his neck and started crying.

"I'm sorry!" she shouted. "I never should have blamed you!"

Wakko hugged his sister back, still with teary eyes. "It's okay, Dot. It's okay." Yakko wiped a tear off his face and joined the long, dramatic hug.

Even if it wasn't the happiest situation they had lived, the three toons known as the Warner brother and sister had finally reunited again after weeks of nearly unforgivable drama. Finally, they were together, and none of them was throwing cold statements at another. Finally, they didn't have to worry about sibling rivalry – at least, not as dramatic anyway.