Chapter 7

The studio was dark.

In the light of sparse, dim security lighting, Lucky could have sworn that Sugarfoot Studios was merely rows of derelict, forgotten soundstages and administration buildings. The darkness of the streets that seemed to surround the studio lent the whole area an air of desertion, as if Sugarfoot had already abandoned the idea of being a studio mogul for that of an as-yet unelected official. But Lucky knew that Sugarfoot was in there; he had to be. Too much was happening in Toontown for him not to be there.

Which is why Lucky was there, too.

The sun had set hours earlier. Lucky had waited patiently in the Crown Victoria for what seemed an eternity, going over the facts of the case and the happenings of the past couple of days. He was certain that his version of events and his deductions were air tight – he was sure of that much, if not about Bonkers' abrupt resignation.

A pang of remorse hit Lucky squarely in the chest. He glanced over at Bonkers' hat and badge lying on the seat next to him, and thought back to Bonkers' admission that he'd had thirty-three partners since Lucky had left. Lucky knew that Bonkers, despite his generally cheery outlook, had fought an uphill battle at the Toon Division the entire time he'd been there. Heaving a sigh, Lucky resolved to find Bonkers before heading back to Washington and convince him not to quit the force.

But first, Lucky had to wrap up this case.

As he crept up to the security gate, Lucky peered into the gatehouse booth to find the short toon turtle who acted as a security guard – the same one that Bonkers had inadvertently infuriated a couple of days before – sound asleep and snoring loudly. Arching an eyebrow, Lucky reached into the booth and stealthily activated the guard gate, which swung open soundlessly and allowed Lucky to dart inside.

Creeping along the sides of the soundstages, he made his way back to the administration building, steeling himself for another meeting with the spine-chilling Sugarfoot. Just as he suspected, a lone light shone at the top of the administration building, and dark figures seemed to be moving around in the room.

The silhouette of a figure rounded the corner opposite of Lucky. The figure took no notice of him, and seemed intent upon getting into the administration building. Lucky watched as the figure approached the door, which slid open with a soft thwack. Lucky waited a few seconds, and then swiftly scurried through the doors just as they began to swing shut. The figure made no indication of being aware of Lucky's presence, and instead began to climb the stairs up towards Sugarfoot's office. Lucky patiently counted two minutes before following him up.

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Bonkers flung himself down on the sofa. "If it was any toonier, it'd be broadcast on Saturday mornings!" he jeered in a mocking tone. He stood up, only to fling himself down into an easy chair. "I couldn't have gotten this far without you, Bonkers, really I couldn't have, but – but! But you're a toon, so go home and let the human do all the important stuff!" Once again, he leapt up and draped himself dramatically over the kitchen counter. "How can I put this, Bonkers. Hmmm. Gee. Maybe thanks for all of the breaks in the case but now get out of my way?" He balled his fists. "Humans!" he cried in frustration.

"Yeah. And they smell funny, too," Fall Apart piped up, munching on a cupcake he'd found behind Bonkers' refrigerator.

"I can't believe I wasted fifteen years of my life on that stupid police force!" Bonkers sat up, putting his chin in his hands.

"Look on the bright side. Now we've finally got time to start that psychedelic dub-step cocktail music band we've always talked about," Fall Apart suggested. He suddenly made a choking hock sound, and pulled a dust bunny from the back of his throat. "Now that's irony," he noted, wiggling his tail.

"There's just something not right about Lucky's deductions about the case. I can't put my finger on it," Bonkers mused, brow furrowed. Fall Apart handed him one of his fingers.

"Here, will that help?"

"I meant that metaphorically."

"What's it got to do with the weather?"

"Metaphorically, not meteorology. Oh what's the use," Bonkers sighed heavily. "I quit the best job I ever had, and lost one of the best friends I ever had."

"Hey!"

"Other than you, Fall Apart." Bonkers slung an arm around Fall Apart's shoulders. "Hope you don't mind if your best buddy is an unemployable hack like me."

"That's ok. I'm unemployed too. Big Louie evidently looks down on his employees using the kitchen sink to take a bath during the lunch rush." Fall Apart shrugged. "Maybe I could get my job back at Sugarfoot's. If the mayor's going to be working in cartoons, he'll need a prop assistant, right?"

Bonkers perked up suddenly. "Hey wait a minute. You're right."

"Yeah. The mayor's never worked in cartoons before so he'll definitely need – "

"Why would the mayor even audition for cartoons, and then disappear with all of Toontown's money? Why would King Ring-a-Ding even be interested in Gimblebee?" He jumped down off the counter and began to pace. "Why would King Ring-a-Ding send Gimblebee a King Ring-a-Ding poster with a threatening message on the back? Why were Gimblebee's gloves stained? Fall Apart!" He pivoted to face his friend. "You said that Gimblebee and Sugarfoot got in an argument after the audition, right? Do you remember what Gimblebee said?"

"Sure. He said to Sugarfoot that we had a deal, and you can't go back on a deal." Fall Apart shrugged. "Maybe Sugarfoot promised him dinner and then did that thing where he pretends to have forgotten his wallet, so you end up having to pay anyway and pretending that it's fine, but it's like the third time he's done it to you – "

"Or Lucky's deductions aren't correct. I knew it wasn't tooney enough!" Bonkers declared. He immediately pulled out a rolling chalkboard from behind his back and began to scribble pictures of stained gloves, the poster, along with Gimblebee, King Ring-a-Ding, and Sugarfoot. He scrutinized it carefully for a minute, tapping his forehead. "What's the connection, what's the connection? Think, Bobcat, think!"

" – and heaven knows it's happened to me plenty of times," Fall Apart was continuing to ramble, lost in his own thoughts. "You know, the guy who was always the worst at that was Woody Woodpecker. He got me every time! There was this one time – "

Bonkers' face broke into a smile. "That's it!" he cried, grabbing Fall Apart. "Woody Woodpecker! That's the connection!" He gripped Fall Apart in a bear hug that made the poor rabbit's eyes bug. "Oh, thanks buddy! It's all clear now!"

"You're welcome," Fall Apart answered in a squeak.

Bonkers froze. "Wait a minute. Lucky." He hopped up on the counter, looking out the window towards Sugarfoot Studios, a look of rising panic dawning on his face. "Lucky's in danger – and he doesn't even know it!"

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Sugarfoot struck a match and studied the flame dancing on the tip for a moment before holding it to the end of his cigar. He inhaled slowly until a blue curl of smoke wafted from the end then exhaled unhurriedly, throwing a steady look to the toon across from him.

"So," he purred. "You've heard the news, I take it."

The trembling, corpulent toon mole balled his fists at his side, and nodded curtly despite his obvious nervousness. "Did you really think I'd let you…let you get away with this?"

A wide grin spread across Sugarfoot's face; his feline fangs shined threateningly in the scant light of the office. "I've got to admit – I'm curious to see how you're going to stop me."

Lucky pushed his ear against the door hard, making the side of his face ache. He had squatted in front of Sugarfoot's office door a few minutes earlier, content to simply eavesdrop because there weren't many other options in the narrow hallway.

Gimblebee gave Sugarfoot a dirty look. "It didn't have to come to this, Sugarfoot. You know that. We – we could have just stuck to the deal, and – "

"The deal doesn't work without money, you fool! The deal means precisely jack when you're broke!" Sugarfoot bellowed, smoke pluming from his mouth, which was curled in a nasty snarl. "You should have stayed put. It would have made things a lot easier!"

It was Gimblebee's turn to look slightly smug. He crossed his arms in front of himself. "Sorry to make things so difficult for you," he sneered sarcastically. "But I'm through running. I'm through lying."

"I didn't mean difficult for me, idiot." Sugarfoot parted his suit jacket slightly, showing the gleam of a gun in a holster strapped to his side. He smirked cruelly. "I meant for you."

Lucky frowned from the other side of the door.

"You – you can't do this," Gimblebee stammered. "You can't be in charge of Toontown. You forget, Sugarfoot. I was mayor for long enough and saw enough backroom deals between you and shady characters that I know exactly what you'd do to this town! You'd run it the same way you run your studio – to your own benefit, and no one else's! With no regard for the lives in in Toontown!"

To Gimblebee's surprise, Sugarfoot erupted into a deep-throated laugh. "When the hell did you become such an upstanding elected officer, eh?" he roared between gales of laughter. "The only reason you know about those 'backroom deals' is because you were in on them! Hell, for the past six months, you've gladly turned over every penny that came into your office to me!"

"Because I had to!" Gimblebee shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "I had no choice!"

"Oh you had a choice." Sugarfoot's voice had dropped to almost a whisper. "You might not have liked either option, but you still had a choice."

Gimblebee looked down at the floor, shivering slightly. "You're going to k-kill me, aren't you?" he murmured.

"Of course I am." Sugarfoot shrugged the gun out of its holster. "I told you that you shouldn't have come back."

The door suddenly burst open with Lucky poised on the threshold, his own gun bared. "No one's going to die tonight, Sugarfoot," Lucky announced. "But you'll both be sitting in a jail cell by sun up."

Sugarfoot smirked again, seemingly unsurprised to see him there. "I wouldn't count on it, human officer."

Something in Sugarfoot's assured tone made Lucky hesitate for a moment, just long enough for Ott, Sugarfoot's assistant, to come up from behind and wack a mallet over Lucky's head.

Everything went dark.

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Bonkers skidded across the tiled floor of the lobby, trying to gain traction on the way to the stairs. The absence of an alarm going off when he forced his way into Sugarfoot's administration building told him one thing – Sugarfoot didn't want any cops here tonight. Not for any reason.

That could only mean that whatever was going on upstairs wasn't exactly above board.

He panted as he raced up the many flights of steps towards Sugarfoot's office, taking two or three or seven at a time. As he reached the office door, he didn't hesitate for a moment and flung it wide open to find three bewildered faces looking over at him in between the slumped form of Lucky being tied to a chair.

"Lucky!" he balked. He turned to Sugarfoot and made himself as tall as possible. "All right Sugarfoot. You can lie to Toontown, blackmail the mayor, and refuse to validate my parking, but tying Lucky up is where I draw the line!"

The piercing familiarity of Bonkers' voice roused Lucky, who slowly starting coming out of his daze with a mumbled, "Bonkers?"

"Well Bobcat, I didn't expect you to show up," Sugarfoot drawled, taking a slow step forward and drawing his gun. "But what the hell? The more the merrier, right?"

Lucky scoffed at the sight of the gun. "Newsflash, genius: bullets can't kill toons."

"Not the ones in your little cop pistol there, that's true," Sugarfoot replied, motioning to Lucky's gun, which had fallen to the floor when Ott knocked him out. "But turpentine bullets? Those'll take out a toon just fine." Sugarfoot grinned and leveled the gun at Gimblebee. "Care to see a demonstration, officer?" he barked, throwing a laugh over his shoulder to Lucky.

Bonkers' eyes widened. "No, wait!" he cried.

Sugarfoot smirked. "Don't get antsy, Bobcat. You'll get your turn."

"K!" Bonkers burst. "K!"

"'K'?" Without taking the gun off of Gimblebee, Sugarfoot gave Bonkers a strange look. "Never heard a toon so complacent about his imminent death. You're a strange cat, you know that?"

"K! That's what makes this whole case make sense!" Bonkers bellowed. "The poster was signed K!"

"Yes, and that's why King Ring-a-Ding is standing with a gun in Gimblebee's face!" Lucky retorted in a sing-song voice. "It's not good to aggravate the guy with the gun, Bonkers!" he hissed.

Bonkers slid in between Sugarfoot and Gimblebee, who stood trembling before the gun. "Lucky, this isn't King Ring-a-Ding," Bonkers said, motioning to Sugarfoot. He pointed meekly to Gimblebee. "This is King Ring-a-Ding!"

"What? But it can't be!" Lucky replied. "For the last time Bonkers, it doesn't make sense if – "

"B-But it's true!" Gimblebee spluttered, tears beginning to bubble up in his eyes. "I am King Ring-a-Ding – or at least I used to be."

Lucky looked as though his head was spinning. "But then who is K?"

"This is K," Bonkers answered, motioning to Sugarfoot with his thumb. "Otherwise known as his stage name when he was a kid – Knothead."

Lucky arched an eyebrow in puzzlement. "Knothead? Who the heck is Knothead?"

"Only the best damn kid toon actor Toontown ever saw!" Sugarfoot thundered indignantly in amazement that someone hadn't heard of him.

"On the Woody Woodpecker Show!" Bonkers clarified brightly. "On the show, Woody had a niece and a nephew. The nephew was Knothead."

"You mean Sugarfoot's had a revision too?" Lucky wanted to run a weary hand through his hair, but the tight knots courtesy of Ott made that impossible. "How the hell is anyone supposed to keep up with this?"

"I've never needed a revision," Sugarfoot said, throwing a knowing glance at Gimblebee. "All I needed was a little woodpecker costume."

"It was cheaper than animating a new toon specifically for the part," Bonkers explained with a shrug.

"And the day that King Ring-a-Ding himself visited the set was the best day of my young life," Sugarfoot said darkly, moving slowly towards Gimblebee with intent. "The biggest star in Toontown. The King of Cartoons himself. When you stopped by the set, I thought I'd really made the big time. You didn't notice me, Ring-a-Ding, but I noticed you – even if that damn costume was heavy and hot as hell on a soundstage. I watched you showing Woody a few of your gags – gags that only you would do. You know which one I'm talking about?" He leaned in close to Gimblebee, his voice a fierce whisper. "You remember?"

Gimblebee stammered nonsensical words for a moment before offering, "T-The o-one with the glass of w-water."

"That's right." Sugarfoot turned to Bonkers and Lucky. "And why don't you tell our friends here about the gag. I'm sure they'll think it's hilarious."

Sweat glistened on Gimblebee's forehead and his hands shook. In little more than a whisper, he managed, "T-The gag was that I'd – I'd drink a glass of water, and then I'd – I'd pump my tail, and the water would come out of my mouth like a fountain, and pour back into t-the glass."

Bonkers and Lucky exchanged a confused look. "What's so funny about that?" Bonkers ventured with a shrug.

"Exactly!" Sugarfoot roared in response. "It wasn't funny at all! And Woody told him as much!" He suddenly thrust the gun under Gimblebee's chin, making Gimblebee shriek. "And a week later, dirt about Woody Woodpecker started turning up in all of the Toontown newspapers. Do you know how many double entendres can be made with the name Woodpecker? We were all out of a job within a month!"

"Don't tell me this is all some petty revenge fantasy!" Lucky moaned.

"Far from it, human officer," Sugarfoot retorted, swiveling around to peer at him, Gimblebee momentarily forgotten. "I didn't give a damn. I knew, even at that age, that I was destined for bigger things. I'm not really one of those toons who, you know, likes other toons."

"I think we established that after our first meeting," Bonkers reminded Lucky quietly.

"So when King Ring-a-Ding disappeared after the scandal, I assumed, just like every other toon in Toontown, that I'd seen the last of him." Sugarfoot turned back to Gimblebee and sneered. "Until he came to audition at Sugarfoot Studios and did that same. stupid. gag. he'd done for Woody all those years ago. I knew who you were right away." His face darkened. "And I saw my chance."

"Look, have a little mercy here! I'm a toon!" Gimblebee sobbed. "I was animated to entertain! It's what I was created for! How can you turn your back on what you were created for? I had to audition – I had to be in cartoons again!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you betrayed your friends, your co-stars, and ruined the lives of totally innocent toons!" Bonkers burst.

"Oh that," Gimblebee chuckled, as though it were nothing. "That was just a little light-hearted fun."

"And people think I'm the criminal! Haw!" Sugarfoot guffawed. "See it from my point of view, gentleman: not only do I find the Toontown Mole, but he also happens to be the mayor of Toontown. And, his revision identity just happens to be that of a mole – a toon mole, get it? See how that might cause some trouble?" He gestured to Gimblebee and managed a guttural laugh that didn't contain one ounce of mirth. "And so he and I struck a little deal that was…mutually beneficial."

"How was it mutually beneficial? It was extortion, nothing more!" Gimblebee shot back.

"Oh, I don't know. In return for all of Toontown's money, you got to keep your revision identity, instead of fearing for your life in front of an angry mob."

"Doesn't sound a whole lot different than politics, really," Lucky muttered.

"But. The money ran out, didn't it Ring-a-Ding?" Sugarfoot moved closer, just inches from Gimblebee. "And you tried one last, pathetic, Hail Mary scheme to hold off the wolves a little longer, didn't you?"

"I could have made your studio money as a star," Gimblebee stammered. "I was willing to work for free and let you have all of the royalties. I've been famous because of my talent before, Sugarfoot – I could have done it again!"

"Please! A tired old toon with an already instantly recognizable face from politics who only knows old gags from the 50's?" Sugarfoot tsked. "Not at my studio, Ring-a-Ding. I got a reputation to uphold." He suddenly broke out into hoarse laughter. "But the gloves – oh the gloves were a great touch!"

Lucky's ears perked, remembering the stained gloves he and Bonkers had found in Gimblebee's office. "What about the gloves?"

Sugarfoot was nearly doubled over in laughter, but managed to choke out, "Oh, fancy gray gloves! I should have known something was up when you came to audition for a second time with gray gloves! And the wine! Haw! I knew the Toontown coffers were empty as soon as you finished that idiotic, boring monologue and broke out the wine!" He elbowed Gimblebee in the ribs a little too stiffly, making Gimblebee wince. "He was so scared that he spilled the wine all over himself! Tell me, if a toon has money at his disposal, would he be so damn nervous in trying to impress me, to get me to let him off the hook for the money? Of course not!"

"And as soon as the money ran out, you told him you'd expose him – and that's why Gimblebee ran," Bonkers said. "Once Gimblebee was out of the picture, you could get what you were really after – control of Toontown!"

Gimblebee had been reduced to a shambling mess in the corner, his knees tucked up under his chin, sobbing and awaiting his demise. 'Brave' had never been an attribute ascribed to Gimblebee – or King Ring-a-Ding, for that matter.

"Why, Bobcat, you're getting better at this, aren't you?" Sugarfoot simpered in a light-hearted tone. "I knew Toontown would have some fun when everyone found out Gimblebee was a one – one revision away from his original form! It will be a helluva lot of fun. I'm almost sorry that none of you will live to see it." He checked his gun and then turned to level it at Lucky with a dark grin. "But first things first. It's not like I can just let you two honorable officers of the law just walk out of here, can I?" He turned to Ott. "Go get the car ready. We're going to have a lot of 'trash' to take out tonight." Ott nodded obligingly and exited.

"How could you Sugarfoot?" Bonkers admonished. "All of this, and for what? A chance to run Toontown into the ground? Eventually someone will rat you out, Sugarfoot. Look around you – you've got no friends, no one who gives a damn about you. You're feared, not respected, and there's a big difference!"

"And what the hell would a toon know about friendship and respect, eh?" Sugarfoot goaded. "Friendship and respect have no place in Toontown!"

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Smarty-Pants," Bonkers chided, crossing his arms in front of himself. "Lucky's my best friend and I respect him! He put his massive butt on the line again and again for me and all of the toons in this town – "

"Don't bring me into this," Lucky mumbled, gritting his teeth.

" – and that's a Toontown worth fighting for!"

"Oh really?" Sugarfoot leveled the gun at Lucky once again. "But is your love for Toontown, and your respect for your friend, enough to die for?"

Bonkers' expression was unwavering. "Always has been, always will be," he stated resolutely.

With this, Bonkers leapt at Sugarfoot. Though Bonkers was far smaller than Sugarfoot, the goliath mogul was nonetheless surprised and leapt back, staggering towards the wall. Sugarfoot broke free of Bonkers' grasp, throwing the bobcat to the floor. A cruel grin seized Sugarfoot's face and he shouted, "You know, I always did love an exciting ending!"

The sound of the consequent gunshot made Lucky's ears ring so violently that he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he ventured a peek, he saw Bonkers kneeling nearby, staring dazedly at a rapidly expanding spot of ink on his chest.

Lucky's heart suddenly seemed to be in his throat. "Bonkers!" he exclaimed in a panicked voice.

"'Hooo boy, that's not good," Bonkers offered weakly, watching as the ink soaked through his shirt, his very life-force seeping away.

"If it's any consolation, officer, lots of people think toons go to heaven too," Sugarfoot said, raising his gun towards Lucky, who flinched, waiting for the inevitable.

The door to the office suddenly flew open. Before Sugarfoot could turn around to face the intruder, he'd already been knocked out cold with a baton wielded by a babe in uniform.

Lucky had never been so glad to see Miranda Wright in his life.

At least a dozen more officers immediately poured into the room, grabbing Gimblebee just as he was about to climb out the window and handcuffing Sugarfoot as he lay unconscious. Miranda caught sight of Bonkers and slid towards him. She rolled him over to see the front of his shirt was entirely soaked with black ink; she gasped involuntarily.

"I got here as quick as I could, as soon as you called – " she whispered to him apologetically, despite the fact that her former partner was now unconscious in her arms. "I couldn't – I couldn't get here any faster, Bonkers, I'm sorry – "

One of the other officers had untied Lucky, and now it was Lucky who was on his knees next to Bonkers. His throat constricted at the shock of seeing Bonkers' usual bright colors becoming faded as the toon rapidly lost more and more ink. He found his voice and sputtered, "My God. We've got to – "

"We need an ambulance!" one of the officers called towards the hallway, having caught sight of Bonkers.

"An ambulance won't do any good. We need an animator!" Miranda corrected him.

Lucky had already scooped up Bonkers in his arms and was running for the exit, shouting, "Marilyn! I've got to find Marilyn!"

To be continued...