"Well thith ith a fine kettle of fisth," Daffy lisped sarcastically.

Jim had to agree. In fact, only the damage done to the contents of another kettle had delayed his meeting a filleted fate this long. Unfortunately, the foiled rescue attempt meant that two other currently living beings were going to suffer along with him. That made the present situation worse. The rabbit and duck were tied to the tree trunk just as tightly as Jim was. From their mutual vantage point they could do little more than watch as Dr. Loveless fussed over the cauldron while Voltaire struggled to relight the fire that his gluteus maximal splashdown had put out.

"Thanks for trying to save me," Jim told the other two. "Sorry I got you into this mess."

"Ehhh, not your fault," Bugs told him. The rabbit wasn't entirely willing to let Jim off the hook, though, giving him a keen sideways glance. "Not so much fun bein' on someone else's dinner menu, is it?"

"No," West admitted. "Sorry."

Unfortunately, it appeared that Voltaire had succeeded in getting the soggy wood under the cauldron started again and Loveless, apparently satisfied that no harm had been done to his master recipe, waddle-walked over to them to gloat.

"It won't be too much longer now, Mr. West." Loveless steepled his long fingers together over his chest. "I'll finally be revenged on you and then Mr. Gordon and soon your entire meddling Secret Service! With my army of monstrous allies, I will take over California, and then, who knows? The United States next and then the world!" he cackled.

"Thay! I'm impreththed!" Daffy began staring admiringly, but not at Loveless. "How come you didn't tell uth you're an undercover thecret agent?"

Jim had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, but Loveless was infuriated not to be the subject of Daffy's admiration.

"Not for very much more he isn't!" the doctor hissed. "And you don't have much time yourself, duck! You'll do nicely with some orange sauce! And as for you," Loveless turned to his longest-eared captive, "after I've had Voltaire finish skinning you and cutting off your feet to distribute as good luck charms, I think I'll have him throw the rest of you onto the garbage heap!" He snickered. "I'm not sure about the monsters, but I never have been able to abide finding hare in my food."

Bugs' ears flattened, and the rabbit's eyes narrowed into angry slits.

"Of course, you realize, Doc, that this means war!"

Loveless unclenched his fingers, waved his hands in the air and made a mocking imitation of being scared.

"Ooh, I'm so frightened!" he chortled. Then he danced a little victory jig in front of his prisoners.

"Bugs," Daffy whispered nervously, "doth thith . . . doth thith mean we'll be watching . . . . when Mithter Wetht . . . ." the duck gulped. "When he . . . you know . . . ?"

"Not yet it doesn't!" Bugs whispered defiantly. "Shhh! I have a plan."

Jim heard the whispered conversation as well. He wished he could come up with some ideas himself. Whatever the rabbit's plan was, time was running out. The fire under the cauldron was going well now, and the remaining cooking liquid steaming. Even the bunny was looking a little perturbed as Loveless ordered Voltaire to pick up the piece of cloth he'd dropped earlier and use it to silence Jim.

"Oh, woe is us!" Bugs lamented. "Woe! Woe! Whoah!"

Loveless growled and grimaced at the noise, as Daffy, following Bugs' lead, began keening just as loudly. Even Jim found the sound wince-inducing. Loveless stuck his fingers in his ears and scowled at the rabbit and duck in disgust.

"We need more gags!" he shouted.

Immediately, cream pies appeared from out of nowhere and began smacking him and Voltaire in the face, while all of the daisies in the clearing began shooting jets of seltzer water. Voltaire, temporarily blinded, stumbled against the cauldron, causing it to slosh liquid again. While he hopped around howling with a hot foot, the spilled contents and the daisies' seltzer barrage made the cookfire go out once more.

"You said it, Doc – I didn't!" Bugs snickered.

Flames burst up from Loveless' head once again, briefly, burning away cream pie remnants before another squirt from a daisy extinguished his hair. Red-faced, he glared at the bunny, almost too angry to speak.

"You . . . you . . . !" he stammered, opening and closing his fists. The enraged villain raced over to the trestle table and snatched up the chef's knife.

Uh oh, Jim thought. Loveless was so angry right now, it appeared he wasn't going to wait for Voltaire to do the skinning. But Jim bet he could get under his arch-enemy's skin first. He started grinning and laughing. Bugs and Daffy gaped at him as though he was out of his mind, but just as Jim intended, Loveless was distracted from what would have been a nasty attack on the wisecracking rabbit. And Loveless, predictably, was not content with swift expedients where James West was concerned.

"You think this is funny, Mr. West?" The doctor threw the knife back down, exactly like a child throwing a tantrum. "You think you should be laughing at a time like this?"

"How can I not?" Jim chuckled. "Here you try to convince everyone you're some hotshot scientist and you don't even know how to light a fire! You need Voltaire to do it for you! Do you need him to tie your shoelaces for you too?"

In fact, the huge henchman was having a miserable time trying to restart the double-doused blaze, as Jim could see. But Loveless might be able to ignite it with his own head in another minute or so. The doctor couldn't resist taking the bait this time.

"I do so know how to light fires! Don't be absurd!" he snapped. "I simply use Voltaire to handle the menial tasks that are beneath my dignity!"

It would take an earthworm with a shovel to be beneath your dignity right now, Jim thought.

"Sure," Jim snickered, doing his best to sound skeptical. "Right."

Bugs and Daffy, catching on, began to snicker a little too. Loveless, frustrated, made a backwards glance at the cauldron, where Voltaire was still having no luck getting the fire relit. None of this was making him look good.

"Why, I light fires all the time!" the midget scientist bragged desperately. "It's mere child's play for a man of science like myself!"

"Uh huh," Jim laughed. "I'll bet a firefly could do a better job than you!"

Loveless scrunched up his features in speechless aggravation, then stormed back over to the cauldron to show Voltaire – and West – how it was done. That meant the prisoners had a little more of a delay at least, since Jim could tell even at a distance that the firewood and firepit looked very, very wet. But would Arte be able to find them and effect a rescue? Would Arte even be looking yet? Jim had lost all sense of what time it was. Bugs' next words seemed to acknowledge that they'd never get out of this trap on their own.

"Daffy! We need you to go and get help!"

"And how do you propothe I do that, thmartypantth?" the duck grimaced, struggling against the ropes. "I'm thtuck jutht like you are!"

"I know," Bugs sniffled, suddenly sounding sad for a change. "It's just that when I think about poor Mr. West's fate here, it reminds me of," he sniffled again and raised his eyes heavenward, "of the ending to that film, Old Yeller."

"Aw, no, Bugs!" Daffy shook his head and his jaw drooped. "Don't talk about that! You know that movie alwayth maketh me go to pietheth!"

"I can't help it," Bugs sobbed and sniffled, whiskers twitching. "The way Old Yeller keeps saving his family over and over again . . . the way he rescues little Arliss from a bear . . . and . . . ."

Jim had no idea what they were talking about, but a single tear trickled down the rabbit's furry cheek. Tears began forming in Daffy's eyes too.

". . . and saves Travis from all sorts of danger . . . ." the rabbit's voice began quivering with more sobs. "And how much Travis comes to love Old Yeller . . . but then . . . . then . . . ."

"Waaahhhh!" the duck cried out loud, and to Jim's shock, suddenly went all to pieces – literally. In a shower of black body parts, the duck came free of the ropes binding him and landed as a little pile of black feathers with a beak, two teary eyes and a band of white sticking up out of it. More horrifying still, the separated parts appeared to be very much alive.

"Good!" Bugs said, just as suddenly dry-eyed and unsentimental. The rabbit looked down at the collection of duck parts. "Now pull yourself together, Daffy, and go get Elmer! We need Elmer Fudd!"

"That nitwit?" the disembodied duck beak asked. "What do you want with him? What good can he do?"

"Just trust me on this!" Bugs urged. "Pull yourself together and bring him back here! Fast!"

And right before Jim's eyes, a broom and dustpan appeared from out of nowhere and swept the disassembled creature into a dustpan of duck that trundled itself off into the woods somehow. Jim gaped in disbelief.

"Ehhh, he'll be fine, Mr. West," Bugs told him. "We do that sort of thing all the time. It's you I'm worried about." The rabbit squirmed in the ropes, still unable to free itself by the same method. "It's just I don't go to pieces as easily as Daffy does."

Jim tried squirming himself with all his strength, but it was no use. He still couldn't escape.

"I've got a knife in the back of my jacket collar," Jim gritted his teeth with frustration. "If only I could get at it . . . !"

"Well, why di'nt you say so?" Bugs grinned. "Maybe I can reach it!"

The odd woodland creature was full of another surprise as its long right ear reached over to try and pull out the knife. Now Jim had to resist the urge to squirm as the tickly rabbit ear poked around near the back of his neck before finding its target. Using that prehensile ear, Bugs drew the small knife and began sawing at the ropes holding Jim.

"Aren't you going to free yourself first?" Jim asked.

"Nuh-uh," the rabbit told him. "The way I see it, you've got a lot more to lose here than I do!"

Watching the bunny working so hard to rescue him, Jim felt doubly abashed at his earlier behavior. He was definitely going to have to disappoint his partner's culinary dreams this time.

But time was what they didn't have enough of . . . .

Loveless had succeeded in rekindling the cookfire after all, and any minute now, he'd be returning to torment his intended monster munchies. Jim's little knife succeeded in cutting the first rope, and Jim could feel the other loops around him loosening. If only . . . .

As if they didn't have enough to worry about, a big, hairy monster with a vaguely heart-shaped head came shambling into the clearing, wearing the oddest little shoes on its feet that Jim had ever seen. A hungry big, hairy monster, smacking its lips and looking for something to eat, evidently drawn by the scent of Loveless' cooking broth.

"In just a short while, my sweet," Loveless smiled at the behemoth. "I'm going to prepare for you the most exquisitely butchered bourguignon in the . . . WEST!" The 'chef's' sales pitch changed to an angry shout as he looked over at the tree trunk and realized what his prisoners were up to. "Voltaire! Stop him!"

Jim was still fighting to free his arms and wondering how he was going to save his new friend too, while Loveless scrambled over to where he had stashed his mini-gas rifle. He'd have to get close to West to gas him again, but Jim's little sleeve derringer wasn't a very good long- range weapon either and probably couldn't manage to do much more than sting the big, hairy monster. The two problems seemed to take care of themselves, though, as the hungry monster, not willing to wait, gulped up Loveless' little rifle straight out of his hands using its tongue, swallowed, let out a huge, purple belch and then sat down on the ground hard with more of the little tweeting birds circling its head.

"You fool!" Loveless cried up at the monster. "Look what you've done!" But the monster appeared not to be listening, as its eyes remained crossed and its gigantic huge head swayed in time to the little birds' song.

Voltaire, meanwhile, reached down to grab – and possibly tear off - Jim's head as the Secret Service agent tried to free his legs. But the sudden crack of a gunshot in the clearing brought him and everyone else to a halt. A hunter, similar in height to Dr. Loveless but with a disproportionately much larger head, came running in from the woods, followed by Daffy.

"Wooks wike I got here just in time, Mr. Duck!" the hunter exclaimed. "You were wight! There are monsters in this forest!"

"I'm no monster!" the villainous doctor shouted at him. "I'm Dr. Miguelito Loveless!"

The hunter gave him a pitying look.

"Aw, I'm sowwy, Mister." Elmer Fudd shook his head. "No one should be wuvless!"

"Oh, brother," Daffy murmured, as he and Jim took advantage of the distraction to untie Jim all the way and start untying Bugs.

"Not wuvless!" Miguelito yelled. "Loveless! Loveless! And you are interfering in my work!"

Elmer looked around in confusion, trying to figure out just what sort of work he was interfering in.

"Ehhhh, good thing you showed up, Elmer," Bugs said, chewing on a carrot that he had mystically gotten from somewhere. The rabbit used the greens end of the carrot to point at Loveless. "This guy was tryin' to hunt hoo-man beans, like Mr. West here, and he doesn't even have a license."

Elmer's eyes grew wide and he shook his head.

"I don't think there is a wicense to hunt hoo-mans!" the shocked hunter gasped.

"I don't need a wicense – I mean license – to kill Mr. West! I'm the world's greatest genius! I can do whatever I want!" Loveless screamed at them. "Voltaire, get them!"

But Voltaire was having problems of his own. Daffy had dived into an opening in Voltaire's shirt and was now causing the giant to wriggle and giggle and slap at himself trying to get Daffy out. The duck popped out of Voltaire's shirt collar, armed with an old-fashioned squeeze bulb perfume applicator labeled 'monster musk'.

"Woo-hoo, woo-hoo!" Daffy called, squeezing the bulb and hitting Voltaire with a huge misting of the spray before jumping away to safety.

The confused henchman started sniffing himself to determine what sort of scent he'd been hit with just as the big, hairy monster rose to its tiny feet, deeply sniffed the air also and began looking at Voltaire in a whole new – and to Voltaire, terrifying – way. It started making cooing sounds and smoochy faces at him. Voltaire, with another very un-Voltaire like shriek, ignored Dr. Loveless for once and took off into the forest at a dead run with the big, hairy monster in hot pursuit, leaving a little trail of heart symbols in its wake.

With the odds of the scenario now drastically changed, Dr. Loveless began to back away from Elmer, who was giving him a stormy gaze.

"I may not be a genius," the hunter said, stating the obvious. "But even I know you can't hunt without a wicense!"

"And that ain't all," Bugs commented. "You should have heard some of the things this guy was sayin' about your little Elmira!"

"What!" Elmer growled. "What was he saying?"

Bugs leaned down and whispered into Elmer's ear as the hunter's face went past angry, getting redder and redder, and geysers of steam began shooting out of his ears.

"He what!" Elmer barked, raising his gun. "Why you . . . you . . . !"

"Don't listen to him, you idiot!" Loveless shouted at Elmer, while Jim watched and had to hide a big smile behind his hand at this textbook display of the Miguelito Loveless School of Tact and Diplomacy. Jim would have stepped in to arrest his archenemy if he hadn't still been numb and getting pins and needles in his legs from being tied up for so long. It was all he could do not to fall over laughing though as Loveless took off as fast as his little legs would carry him, while equally short Elmer pursued, intent on giving Loveless' backside a taste of buckshot. Daffy showed no such reservations, rolling on the ground and laughing himself practically back into pieces.

"Ain't I a stinker?" Bugs snickered. "That oughtta fix those two! But just in case it doesn't, Daffy and me have a whole lot of other friends we'll introduce Mr. I-Can-Do-Anything-I-Want to so he don't make any more trouble here!"

Daffy nodded agreement, wiping away tears of laughter as he stood up and waved bye-bye in Voltaire and Loveless' fleeing direction. All was well that ended well – almost.

"Thank you," Jim said solemnly, shaking hands with Bugs and Daffy. "You saved my life."

"Alwayth happy to be of thervice to our country!" Daffy said, giving him a smart salute.

"Anytime," Bugs added, "provided you don't wanna hunt rab. . . ."

"Never again!" Jim promised, holding up both hands. "I've learned my lesson! Now if I can just find my way back to the train and figure out a way for us to get out of here . . . ."

"I think we can help you with that too," Bugs told him. "Plus, I've got something way better for you to eat than rabbit!" Bugs gestured for Jim to follow as he and Daffy headed away from Loveless' hideout in the clearing.

Later, as they waved Jim goodbye with the Wanderer visible in the distance, Daffy waited until the Secret Service agent was nearly gone from sight before turning to Bugs with a worried expression.

"Uh, Bugs, what you thaid before, you know, about hoo-mans . . . ."

"Yeah, Daffy?"

"Well . . . if Chuck ith a hoo-man and he . . . ." Daffy was sweating now. "Doth that mean that we . . . ?"

"Nah," Bugs reassured him. "Chuck told me he's got that all worked out. We'll be fine. Honest."

The duck mopped his brow and sighed with relief.

"Thank heaventh for thmall favorth! Like that and the fact that it'th not Duck Theathon, it'th Rabbit Theathon!"

"Duck Season!" Bugs countered.

"Rabbit Theathon!"

"Duck Season!"

"Rabbit . . . .