AUTHOR'S NOTE: Things have really begun to look up for Ralph, however, let's see what future obstacles stand in his way. This chapter will introduce an adversary for Ralph-so be on the lookout, since he will become a significant character in the next few chapters. (Although he doesn't even have a name yet as of this chapter, as he isn't introduced fully into the next chapter. He will be a significant figure for 3 of the next 4 chapters.)

Legal Disclaimer and Crap: I don't own the rights to the Raccoons, I only own the rights to characters of my own invention, except for Delilah Blackmask, she is copyright of Nicky4 and used with his permission….yeah, enough of that. So now, I'd like to take this moment to discuss my LEAST favorite thing about the Raccoons. It's not the warped timeline. It's not the fact that a few of the characters annoy me. It's the damn humans from the specials and the first season. Ranger Dan and his two children, Tommy and Julie. They did NOT fit in with this show at all. While I don't really mind their presence in the specials, by the time the Raccoons actually became a show I think they should have gotten the hint and got rid of them right away. They never even once INTERACTED with the Raccoons! The closest they came to actually interacting with them was in the Christmas Raccoons, the very first special, and all that happened there was they saw them, felt bad for them because they appeared to be homeless, and decided to give their tree back. That's as much interaction as they had. It might just be me, but I believe that if you are going to have a cartoon that features talking anthropomorphic animals and ordinary human beings alongside one another, they should meet and interact with each other. Watch the first season episode "The Runaways!" and tell me that they COULDN'T have easily made this into an episode where not only did Tommy and Julie try to run away, but they also actually MET the Raccoons. In my opinion, that would have totally justified the humans' existence. Fortunately, they got the hint that the humans did not really fit in with the rest of the show, and so, by season two, they were gone. I apologize if this sounds mean, but, good riddance, I say.

Moving on…

CHAPTER TEN: Honesty Is No Excuse

The rest of our camping trip was very uneventful. Bert woke up the next day with a massive hangover and he needed some help as we hiked our way back down the mountain. Melissa and I had to help him out since he was having trouble standing up properly. We managed to make our way back to the bottom and we soon made our way back to the Mulligan house.

We knocked on the door.

Mike answered the door.

"Hello? Oh, good, you're back. Ah, I see my little girl's safe and sound too. Good on ya, Ralph-I knew I could trust you, kid."

Bert then started to run his mouth.

"Your daughter's a heroine, Mike!" he shouted.

"Really now," Mike said, taking a puff off of the cigarette he was smoking. "How so?"

"We had a little…mishap while canoeing. Ralphie here almost drowned, but Melissa saved him! She pulled him out of the water and performed CPR on him until he started breathing again!"

"Wow," Mike said, looking a little impressed. "Is this all true?"

"It sure is," Cedric added, "though I also helped."

Melissa smiled lightly. "Oh, come on you guys, it was nothing really."

"No, no, it was really quite amazing!" Bert said, harping her praises.

"Well, what do ya know," Mike said, smiling broadly. "I'd been wondering why ya took those lifesaving courses back in high school. Didn't think ya'd ever have to use them. I guess they finally paid off."

"I suppose they did!" Melissa chuckled.

"Well, I take it you all had an interesting time." Mike asked us.

"We sure did, Mr. Mulligan!" Cedric answered.

"I'll say." I laughed. "Interesting time, indeed."

"Well, it was quite a trip, I'll say that much," Melissa said as she entered the house. She waved goodbye, "See ya later, Ralph."

"Bye, Melissa." I waved back.

We then all went back to our respective homes.

Summer passed quickly and soon it was nearly the end of the summer. It was now mid-September and it was almost time to head back to college. Cedric had to leave to head back to UBC. We were sad to see him go again, but as always, he promised us that he would write to us and call us whenever he got the opportunity to do so, which was usually every weekend.

As for Bert and myself, we decided that we didn't want to go back to the dorms at Evergreen University. It's not like they were a terrible place to live in, it's just that we liked our Raccoondominium better, as it had more room and we each had our own bedroom. (Bert and I didn't really like to share a bedroom, to be honest.)

Right before we had to go back to college came the date of my twentieth birthday. Bert had planned a big party for me, "With lots of girls, alcohol, and rock and roll!", as he said, but in the end, it only ended up being for a few people.

It was about 9:00 at night and I was looking through my gifts. Aunt Gertie had sent me tickets to a motorcycle rally (which was typical for her, since she was really big into motorcycles. Funny story-she once dated a member of the Hell's Angels! But that's another story). It was a nice thought, but it was too far away from the Evergreen Forest for me to attend. Plus, I wasn't really as fascinated by motorbikes as she was.

I had hoped maybe Uncle Rocky would send me something in the mail. Maybe he would forgive me for "betraying" him. Sadly, I had not gotten anything in the mail from him. As he had disowned me as his own nephew, it was quite apparent I would never be able to speak to him again unless he decided to forgive me. As such, I had no reason to expect him to send me anything in the mail. It was just wishful thinking.

Cedric had mailed me a card he'd written for me, as well as a souvenir from UBC. Everything else I'd gotten had just been cards, some money, and a few other odds and ends from my family members.

Bert was presenting me with his present for me.

"Here ya go, Ralphie boy," he said, handing me a box wrapped up with a blue ribbon.

"Hmm," I wondered. "What could it be?" I shook the box. "I can't tell what this is, Bert."

"Well, open it up! You'll never know until ya do." Bert grinned.

I unwrapped the box. It was a fishing pole, albeit it wasn't assembled.

"Ta-da!" he said, jumping up in the air. "What do you think?"

"Erm, it's nice, Bert," I said, politely. "But, it's not assembled yet."

"Oh, uh, I had to send away for it. Took me a good bit of money to pay for it, too. I had to save up for a good while to buy that. You'll have to put it together yourself. You can use it next summer!"

Well, at least he'd thought of me. "Thanks, Bert. I guess it's at least the thought that counts."

"No problem, Ralph," he beamed. "Oh wait, I forgot to give you this."

He handed me another gift-wrapped box.

"What is it this time?" I wondered aloud.

"Well, open it up and see."

I opened up…and what do you know? It was three jars of peanut butter and a jar of peanut butter soda. I should have known Bert would give me something peanut butter related for my birthday. He always did.

I sighed. "Peanut butter again?"

"Hey, everybody should be so lucky to get peanut butter for their birthday!" He laughed.

"…Well, as I said, I suppose it's the thought that counts."

I sighed. This wasn't a very good birthday at all. Nobody had come to visit, it was just Bert and myself. I didn't even have a cake. My parents hadn't even called me like they'd promised they would for my birthday.

"Bert, is anybody else even coming? This certainly hasn't turned out to be the big party you said it would be."

"I dunno, Ralphie, I tried asking quite a number of our old high school classmates, and most of them were either too busy or just out and out didn't want to come."

I sighed. As I expected, this would be a rather depressing birthday.

"Who else did you try to invite?"

"Well, I tried to invite Mike Mulligan, but he has work tonight, so, I don't expect him to show up."

"Anyone else?"

"Yeah, I tried to invite Cyril Sneer to show up." I laughed. He actually tried to invite Cyril Sneer to my birthday party!

"Oh boy. How did that turn out?"

"Not too good. His pigs answered the door and told me to get the hell out."

I laughed. "That sounds about right."

"Heh heh, I should have known that would turn out badly, Ralph." He chuckled. "Wish Cedric were here, though."

"Is Melissa coming?" I wondered. I could have sworn I told her my birthday.

"I doubt it, Ralph."

"Oh well…" I sighed.

Much to my surprise, a knock came at our door.

"Hold on, I'll get it!" I ran to the door.

I was really surprised to find myself face to face with my own father.

"Hey, sonny boy!" he said, warmly. "Happy birthday, boy, how've ya been?"

"Fine, dad," I said. "So what brings you here?"

"Oh. I was just on my way to go head to Mike's Beer Emporium for a few brews when I remembered today was your birthday. Actually, it was your mother who reminded me, heh heh." So where was my mother?

"Uh, dad, where's Mom? She didn't come with you?"

"Oh, your mother's not feeling well, boy," he said. "She said she'll try to call ya when she gets better."

"Hey, if isn't Mr. Raccoon!" Bert said.

"Bert, ol' boy!" my dad said, promptly rubbing his fist on top of Bert's head. (Sometimes, I swore my father would have rather had Bert for a son than me, they got along quite well). "Been so long since I've seen you. How've you been? Is that rocky roll or whatever they call it thingy working out for you?" My father was very behind the times, he called rock and roll "rocky roll".

"I think it will, in the long run," Bert chuckled.

"Ah good. So here you go, boy. Your mother asked me to give you this, she made it for you."

It was a card from my mother. A very simple one, but I read the words inside.

"Happy birthday, my little Ralphie. Remember that no matter what anyone says or thinks about you, I'm always behind you, no matter what-With Love, Your Mother, Millie Raccoon." I smiled. I had always been something of a mama's boy. (My father was…a lot harder to get along with.) Not to mention, she'd sent me a hundred dollars to spend on whatever I chose.

"Oh, I got ya something too, son. This is a gift that everyone can appreciate!" He pulled out a six-pack of his favorite beer, Snoup's.

"My favorite beverage-beer." He grinned. "Hope ya enjoy!"

"Beer…? But dad, I don't even like alcohol." I said. "I just don't like the taste of it."

"Son, there's a first time for everything! When I was your age, I was already going through a six-pack a day. Then again, when I was your age, I already had my wife and George in tow…" He sighed.

"I already know the story, dad," I said. He'd told me this many times before.

"Hey, it's a good story, you know."

"Sure is!" Bert said, he'd also heard the story of my father's youth before several times.

"Dad, I think you'd be better off giving this to Bert. I think he would appreciate it more than I would."

"C'mon, son, you've got to learn how to have some fun! I mean, this is probably the second best thing I ever got you! Remember your fourteenth birthday? Now that's something to last a lifetime!"

"How could I ever forget?" I could never forget that day.

I remembered back to then. It was September 13, 1975. The day before my 14th birthday.

I was busy typing up my summer assignment when my dad came busting in through my bedroom door carrying a box.

"Hey, how are ya doing, boy?" he said eagerly.

"Oh, I'm fine, Dad," I said nonchalantly. "I'm just busy finishing my summer paper. I think I'm doing a good job."

"Ah, well, enough of that boy. Tommorow's your birthday! Are ya excited, sonny boy?"

I smiled. "Well, of course I am! It means I'm another year older."

"Ah. Fourteen years old now. Well, son, you're at that age now..." he said, plainly.

"Age of what?" I wondered.

"Well, ya know...the age where boys like you start thinking about girls. One minute ya go from thinking girls are icky and full of God only knows what diseases, next minute you can't stop thinkin' about 'em. You know what I mean?"

"I suppose so," I said, not really interested. I admittedly was a bit of a late bloomer, I didn't really start to become interested in girls until I was almost fifteen.

"Well, I figured I'd help ya out with that boy!"

I dreaded this. "Is that what that box is for...?"

"Oh yeah! This is your birthday present, I'm giving it to ya a day early! I got these down at Willow's Store, they were behind the counter!" Uh oh...

I took a look in the box.

Sure enough, it was what I thought. A bunch of smutty magazines. Full of sleazy women in various states of undress.

"Playcritter?" I said. "Dad, why...?"

"Hey, boy, you're at that age! You're lucky you live in this day and age, when I was your age we didn't have these! Mr. Willow said I was a terrible parent buying these for you, but I think I'm the best damn dad there is! Every dad should be getting these for his son when they reach that age!"

I knew full well what my dad was expecting me to do with these. Bert already secretly managed to get his paws on them fairly often, and I knew what he did with them...

"Uh, Dad, I don't think I really want-" But he interrupted me.

"Sure ya do, boy! Now, I'll be out of your fur right now, I don't want to...interrupt you while you...thumb through these!" He left and shut the door behind him.

I shook my head. "My dad..."

I didn't know what to do with them, so eventually, I ended up giving them to Bert. Just like I would end up doing with the beer my dad had just given me. Needless to say, he...definitely appreciated it a lot more than I did.

"That was the worst birthday ever..." I sighed to myself.

I was interrupted from my childhood memories when a knock came at the door.

"Hello? I need some help here."

"Who could that be?" my dad said. "You didn't invite any exotic dancers over, did ya, boy?"

"Dad!" I shouted. My dad always seemed to say the most inappropriate and the most embarrassing things in public.

"Hey, c'mon, son! Can't have a party without some women!"

"Dad, please," I said, embarrassed. "I'll get it!" I shouted to the person at the door.

It was none other than Melissa. She was carrying a rather large present and a cake and having a bit of trouble carrying it.

"Happy birthday, Ralph!" She said, winking at me.

"You remembered?"

"Sure did!" she said, grinning broadly. "I need some help here. Can you take the cake?"

"Sure thing, Melissa." I took the cake from her and placed it on our table. Melissa took the present and also placed it on the table.

"Well now, son. Who's this little lady ya got here?" My dad was going to embarrass me in front of Melissa, I just knew it. That was what he was known for-embarrassing me.

"Ralph," Melissa whispered to me. "Is that your dad?"

"Yes, Melissa. That would be my dad." I cringed a bit.

"Hey, sonny boy, is this your little girlfriend Bert over here was telling me about a while ago?" Uh oh.

Melissa turned red. I did too.

"Uh, uh, girlfriend….?" I said, stuttering heavily.

Melissa giggled. "Oh no, Mr. Raccoon. Ralph and I are just friends."

"Just friends?" My dad sounded disappointed. "I thought you two were going out already."

"No, Mr. Raccoon," she said, smiling. I could hear her whisper something to herself. I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like she'd said, "maybe someday."

"Say," my dad said, rubbing his chin. "You look awfully familiar. Have I seen you around here before?"

"My name's Melissa Mulligan, sir," she replied.

"Melissa Mulligan…Mulligan…say, wait a minute. You're Mike's daughter?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Raccoon. Mike Mulligan is my father," she said, proudly.

"Ah, I thought I'd seen ya around here somewhere before! Mike told me a lot about you," he said, smiling his rather…unintelligent looking grin.

"I hear you spend a lot of time at my dad's bar," she replied.

"Oh hell yeah," my dad continued grinning, laughing to himself. "I go there any chance I can get! I was actually going to head out there soon as I gave my boy his presents. Sure hope Mike doesn't kick me out for eating too many of the pickled eggs again!" He laughed.

"Ah, so you're the one Dad's been saying eats too much. Well, it's nice meeting you then, Mr. Raccoon."

Then my dad noticed the cake on the table.

Instantly, he started to twiddle his fingers back and forth. "Mmm!" he said, licking his chops. "Cake!" Then he gasped. "OOH! With extra sugary frosting on top! Delightful!"

"Melissa, you made a cake for me?" I was impressed.

"I sure did!" She said, sounding pretty proud of herself. "I figured you'd probably like it. It took me almost all day to make this too. I would have gotten here much sooner if I hadn't have made it for you."

"It's really nice of you to do that," I said, smiling.

"It's no problem at all, Ralph. You'll probably like my present too."

"What is it?" I wondered.

"You'll see," she grinned.

I was about to say something, but Bert interrupted me.

"Hey! You two lovebirds getting comfortable?"

"Bert!" Melissa shouted, looking upset.

"Bert, now's not a good time," I said, annoyed.

I observed my father putting a finger in the cake and he began eating some of the frosting off of his paw. He just couldn't wait to sink his paws into that cake.

"Mmm…" he said to himself. "High in cholesterol! A delish, I say." He then picked up a piece of the cake and shoved it into his mouth whole.

"Dad!" I shouted.

My dad talked with his mouth full of cake. "What, can't a guy enjoy a free meal every now and then?"

Melissa sighed. "Is he always like this?"

"Oh yes." I sighed. "He's always been a heavy eater. That's why he's...well, up there in the weight department. I'm a little worried he'll end up with diabetes someday." That was a very realistic concern for him. Heart disease and liver failure were also highly likely in the future for him, if he didn't change his diet of fattening, sugary food and alcohol anytime soon.

"I feel sorry for him," Melissa said, shaking her head.

I simply shrugged and said to myself: "My father. The proverbial man-child." Out of my dad and his siblings, Rocky (his actual name was Roger), the eldest, had always been the practical but daring one; Gertie, the middle child, had always been the rowdy and adventurous one; and my father, the baby of the three? Well, he was definitely…the special one, to put it nicely. He had an IQ of 72. Not to mention I was pretty sure I was already more mature than he was.

My father continued to devour my cake.

"This is a damn good cake! I could eat all of this…"

Melissa shouted at him.

"Mr. Raccoon, I made that cake for Ralph! You don't need to eat all of it," she said, pleading with him to stop.

My father talked with his mouth utterly full of cake.

"Can't talk right now, busy stuffing face."

"Please, Mr. Raccoon?"

He swallowed it whole. It was a wonder he didn't choke on it.

"Oh, oh. Sorry, sorry. Guess I got a little carried away."

Bert cheered. "You really were chowing down on that thing!"

My dad laughed. "I sure can eat, can't I?"

"I'll say," I said, looking humiliated by his very embarrassing behavior.

"I'll say one thing, son," he said, grinning at me. "She can definitely make a good cake! By my book, she's definitely a keeper."

Melissa glowed red. "Oh, stop."

"That's enough, Dad…"

"No, I do mean it sonny boy. I told you to always keep your eyes open for a woman who can cook really well. Looks like you took what I said to heart," he said winking.

Melissa looked a little embarrassed. "I think that's enough, Mr. Raccoon. Ralph and I are just good friends."

"Sure, you are. I can see it perfectly. But enough, I figure I oughta be heading out soon anyways."

I just shook my head. "My dad…"

"Don't worry," Melissa whispered. "My dad embarrasses me a lot too."

"I've seen," I said lowly.

"Oh, speaking of my dad, he asked me to give this to you, Ralph." She handed me a book. "He thought you might want to read this."

I looked at the title of the book. "The Great Whiskey Bootleggers of the 1930s and 40s." This would be a fascinating read.

"I see," I muttered. "I guess I'll be learning a lot about the Mulligan family tree."

"I think they mention my grandfather in there," she said, "Richard Mulligan."

"I'll keep a lookout for him in here. Will you tell your dad I said thank you for giving me this?"

"Sure thing." She smiled.

"Hey, I can do that right now!" Bert said, excitedly.

"Bert, no, don't do it!" I shouted. I knew exactly what he was going to do.

"What's going on?" Melissa asked, confused.

"This isn't going to end well…"

Bert dialed the number for Mike's Beer Emporium. The gruff voice came over the telephone.

"Hello, Mike's Beer Emporium. How may I help you?"

Bert spoke up. "I'm trying to find a friend of mine, and I think he might be hanging out at this bar. His last name is Jass."

Oh no, not this.

"Uh huh. So what's his first name?"

"His first name is Hugh. Can you find him?"

Melissa gasped. "He isn't going to…?"

I sighed. "I'm afraid so."

I heard Mike answer. "Sure, wait one second. Ah, Hugh Jass? Hugh Jass? Has anybody seen a Hugh Jass around here? Anyone here want to check the bathrooms for a Hugh Jass?"

I could hear all of the alcoholics burst out into laughter.

I slapped myself in the face. Why did he have to do this…again? And why on earth could Mike not recognize his voice? He had met and spoken to Bert several times by now, he should be able to recognize him. This confused me.

I heard him get angry. He knew he'd been had, once again.

"Wait a minute. Hugh Jass…oh. It's you again, isn't it?"

"Sure is!" Bert emphatically replied.

"Listen to me right now, buster, the next time you try calling me, I'm gonna cut your lungs out and staple them to your forehead!"

Bert started laughing, while I heard him slam the phone down.

My father absent-mindedly said, "I really do hope Mike catches that little rascal someday."

It was clear he'd only half paid attention.

Melissa looked at Bert.

"Bert, how can you do that…?"

"It's very easy," he smiled innocently.

"Bert, I wish you'd stop doing that." I really did.

"Not while I can still a good laugh out of it." He smiled again.

"Well, I think it's about time I headed to Mike's," my dad said, heading to the door. "Sure was nice meeting your little girlfriend. See ya round, son."

"Bye, Dad. Don't get into any trouble," I said as he left.

I looked at Melissa. "I'm sorry for my Dad's behavior. That's just who he is."

Melissa just smiled at me and put her paw on my shoulder. "It's alright, Ralph. Like I said, I know how embarrassing fathers can be."

"Oh, good."

"Oh wait a minute, Ralph!" she said, remembering something. "I forgot to give you your present."

It was on the table, right where she'd put it.

"It looks pretty heavy," I said. "Wonder what it could be?"

"Well," she grinned. "Open it and find out!"

I unwrapped the rather large box.

I was rather surprised to see that Melissa had gotten me…

…a new typewriter.

"Melissa…?" I said-I was totally surprised. "How did you know that….?"

"You told me, remember?"

I vaguely remembered telling her that my old one was getting worn and the keys were starting to stick on it.

"I think so."

"I've been saving up the money from my odd jobs around the forest to buy this for you. What do you think, Ralph?"

It was a very nice gift. One of the nicest I'd ever gotten, as a matter of fact.

"It's very thoughtful of you. Thank you, Melissa."

She put her arms around me and hugged me. "It was my pleasure. I hope you've had a good birthday, Ralph."

"I have." I said, smiling.

"Ooh!" Bert said, in a teasing manner. "Looks like you two are definitely getting cozy!"

"Bert, that's enough," I said, not really wanting to hear it.

"Well, Ralph, I'll be seeing you around Evergreen University." She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. Once again my heart was practically doing somersaults right then and there.

Bert was snickering.

"Uh, uh, see ya there, Melissa." I said, stuttering heavily.

"Face it Ralphie," Bert said.

"Face what?"

"When are you going to stop being so shy and ask her out?"

Not this again…

"Uh, Bert, why are you so intent on pairing the two of us up again?"

"'Cause, well, everybody can see you two have something for each other."

I knew he was right, but I just felt too nervous to go through with it.

But I did make a vow to myself…

"Maybe someday," I said quietly.

"Better hurry," Bert said, chuckling. "I don't think she'll wait forever."

Soon we were back in college again. Bert was up to his old habits and slacking a bit in his studies, again. So once again, I had to help him with his research. It's actually surprised me he's become a lot more responsible since those days.

We both kept our jobs, but our schedules were cut back from a four day work week to a three day work week. Still, having a paycheck was always nice.

Melissa and I continued to hang out a lot, and we often found ourselves helping each other with our projects and assignments. But still, I was too cowardly to ask her out. I just could not do it.

Along the way, Bert picked up yet another girl in his long line of girlfriends.

One day after college, Bert came home from work with a young female raccoon roughly his age.

"Okay, Bert," I said, figuring I ought to know who his latest…catch was. "Who is she?"

"Ralph, meet my new girlfriend, Delilah Blackmask. I met her at Willow's Store."

Delilah waved to me. "Hello there. You must be Ralph, I think. Bert here told me about you."

"That's me." Something seemed a little…off about her. I couldn't tell exactly WHAT was off about her, but I just felt something was not right.

"Bert and me are heading off to the movies to go see that new Halloween movie," Delilah informed me. Halloween was some kind of horror slasher film that had just come out (since it was just after Halloween). I had no intentions of seeing that film, mainly because something like that would probably give me some rather vivid nightmares.

"Ah. Well, you two go off and have a good time. Bert, did you finish your report for Prof. Smedley-Smythe?" At the time, Smedley-Smythe didn't work for the museum, as it hadn't opened up yet-he taught classes at Evergreen University. Bert was enrolled in his class.

"Oops…looks like I forgot to start on it…"

"It's due this Friday, Bert." I figured I would have to help him out again.

"Eh, I think I can do it myself, Ralphie."

"Bert doesn't need your help. He can do it by himself. You don't need to help him." Delilah said. I could tell she did not particularly care for me much at all. I didn't really like her either, she did not give off a good first impression. I never knew what she'd end up causing so many years later….

"Suit yourself, Bert." I sighed. "You two go off and have a good time. I'll just stay…right here."

"See ya Ralphie," Bert said, with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Suppose I'll see you around, Ronnie," Delilah said. She didn't even bother to remember what my name was-even worse than some of Bert's past girlfriends.

"The name's Ralph," I replied grudgingly.

"Sure, whatever. See you around," she said as the two of them left.

I was glad to see her go, I just knew something was not right about her.

Months passed. Soon came Melissa's birthday (November 25th, she was almost a full year older than me), on which I finally repaid her properly for saving my tail back at the Evergreen Rapids. I bought her a brand new camera, with some money I'd been saving up for a while (I'd originally been saving that money for a new car, but I realized I liked my bicycle better than a car, so I decided to put it to better use). Needless to say, she was rather pleased with my gift. Then came Christmas and by this time, the winter snow. Each of us got presents from one another. Then came the new year, 1982, and Bert's birthday, January 4th. Soon, it was the end of January.

It was just another typical day in the Raccoondominium. Bert was downstairs practicing some heavy metal numbers that I couldn't say I really cared for downstairs. I was upstairs in my room, busy typing away on the new typewriter Melissa had gotten me for my birthday. I had to write up a few articles for Evergreen U's paper, and I was a bit behind schedule. I was in a bit of a hurry to get this done before the deadline.

I heard Bert momentarily stop his heavy metal racket, but then he quickly started up again louder than ever. Presently, there came a knock upon my bedroom door.

"Come in," I said, a bit annoyed, as I did not want to be interrupted while I was busy writing my articles.

It was none other than Melissa. I waved to her, but then quickly went back to typing away. As good as it was to see her visit, I really didn't want to be bothered right now.

"Hello, Ralph," she said, smiling. "So what are you doing?"

"Oh, ah, I'm busy typing up a few articles for the Evergreen University Chronicle. I'm a little bit behind schedule, heh heh."

"I always read your articles in the Chronicle," she said cheerfully, "and by far I think you're the best of all the writers. Much better than Steve Foxley and Nestor Divers."

"Thanks," I smiled softly, thankful for the compliment. "But, now is not a good time to talk. I really need to get these articles finished or else Terry Lynch (who was the Chronicle's editor) is going to chew me out big time." That was certainly not something I wanted to deal with.

"Ralph, it's good to see you work so hard," Melissa responded, "but, you ought to take some time out to have some fun every now and then. You know what I mean?"

"Ah, sure, I suppose so." I said half-listening to her.

"That's why I came here," she said, a sly little smile across her face.

"Uh, what exactly do you mean?" I was confused.

"Ralph, have you heard? There's a big Valentine's Day Dance coming up soon down at the Baden-Baden Residence. Lady Baden-Baden is throwing this big occasion for the couples of Evergreen Forest." Lady Baden-Baden was a wealthy Canadian socialite, a hen, who had recently moved to the Evergreen Forest due to the atmosphere. She had once been a former successful stage actress touring throughout all of Canada and the US, but had long since retired from that life. Not to mention, she's now currently the Mayor of the Forest.

I didn't see how this concerned me, though.

"Couples dance? Ah, there's no way I could go to that." I said as I went back to typing up my article. I don't even remember what it was about, now.

"Ralph, that's why I came here."

"You came here why now?" I said, in a droning tone of voice as I wasn't really interested.

"Ralph Raccoon, I'd like to ask if you would like to be my date to the Dance." She was blushing, big time.

"Me, why me, Melissa?" I didn't see why she would want to ask me to go with her.

"I thought we could have a good time together. I couldn't think of a better guy to ask than you, Ralph."

No way was I going to a dance. The last time I went to a dance, was my senior prom, and I knew damn well how that turned out.

"I'm afraid I can't go, Melissa."

She suddenly looked confused. "Really? Why?"

"Oh, I have some really big assignments coming up for some of my classes, and I need to complete them in the next few weeks. I don't have time for a silly dance."

"Ralph…?" Melissa looked somewhat upset. "What's the matter with you? Can't you put aside your work for a little while and have some fun? You know it would be good for you…"

"I can't, those assignments make up a major portion of my grades. If I don't get them done, I'm going to fail some of my courses." I really wasn't in the mood.

"C'mon, Ralph…" she said, a pleading look on her face.

"I'm sorry. And besides…I can't dance. What's the point of going if I can't dance? I'll just make a big ass out of myself." This was true-I could not dance well…at all.

"Ah, that's no problem-I could teach you how!" Melissa sounded enthusiastic about that. "And besides, it doesn't matter how well you can dance, Ralph…what matters is that you have a good time. Something to remember…" she said, a dreamy look in her eye.

I continued typing up my article. "I'm sorry. I'm not going, Melissa."

She suddenly looked very sad. I didn't realize it at first, but I must have really hurt her feelings by telling her no.

"Ralph, you really won't go to the Dance with me…?"

I glanced back down at my article. "I'm afraid not."

The next thing I knew, I heard her raise her voice angrily at me. "Ralph Raccoon, I don't believe it! You haven't got a single romantic bone in your body, have you?"

Why was she so upset? I'd politely told her no.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't believe you, Ralph! How could you tell me no? I was really looking forward to this!" She was definitely pissed off at me.

"What did I do?" I was confused. What had I done?

"You know damn well what you've done, Ralph!" She was livid with anger, and she also had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Huh?"

"I'm out of here Ralph. I don't want to speak to you again!" She stormed towards my bedroom door.

"Melissa, wait! What did I do-"

"I don't want to hear it!" she shouted as she slammed my door.

"Was it something I said...?"

I suddenly felt really sick inside of myself. I was so confused.

What had I just done?

After a while, Bert came up to my room, where I was slumped over my desk, head rested right next to the typewriter. I felt really miserable with myself.

"Ralph, Melissa came here telling me she was looking for you. She was in a really good mood, and then I heard her hollering at you upstairs, and she came past me looking like she wanted to kill someone, and she was crying. Ralph…what did you do to her…?"

I just felt depressed and spoke lowly, "I don't know, Bert, I don't know…"

"I don't know, but you must have said something or done something that really upset her."

"Bert, I told you I don't know…" But I did know. I knew damn well what I had done to Melissa. She had just asked me on a date with her-and I'd been so caught up in my work that I'd rejected her without even thinking about it! She had every right to be upset.

"You hafta know, buddy, it looks like you really hurt her feelings."

I sighed. "Bert, Melissa asked me to the Valentine's Day Dance at the Baden-Baden Residence. Have you heard of it?"

Bert thought for a second, and then nodded. "Sure thing, Ralphie, I know about it. They asked me to perform the music for the dance. I have to learn a bunch of songs in a couple of weeks and get together a band really quickly so we can perform."

I thought for a minute. "You're not gonna try to bring the house down with your metal, are you Bert?"

"Haha, I wish, but that's not what they want me to perform at all. They're only gonna let me perform a couple of numbers I like. They will let me perform one of 'em that we wrote together," he smiled.

"Really? That should be very unique. I wonder what everyone'll think of it?" Bert and I had collaborated on writing songs together since we were in high school. Bert was good at coming up with choruses while I was better at writing verses.

"They'll probably like it. But most of what they want me to perform is this soft rock junk. I'd rather be burning down the house with my guitar."

"You could stand to play some lighter music every now and then," I said, chuckling a bit.

"Eh, I suppose. But, seriously, Ralphie, Melissa asked you to go to the dance with her. I know you have a little crush on her," he said, lightly chuckling to himself, "so this should have turned out well. What happened?"

I instantly became depressed again. "Bert, I told her no."

Bert was surprised. "You told her no…? Why, Ralph? I thought ya liked her."

I sighed heavily. "Bert, I was so busy being caught up with my articles and all my assignments, I didn't even hardly listen to her. I told her no without even thinking. Oh man….I really regret doing that now…"

Bert just shook his head. "Sheesh, Ralph. I think you really screwed up big time now."

I just buried my face in my paws. "Oh, gosh, I know…" I just felt like I wanted to die now.

Bert looked disappointed in me. "Well Ralph…I think you blew it again."

"I think I'm fully aware of that, Bert." He didn't need to rub it in.

"Wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't speak to you again," he said. "You really messed up there, pal."

"I guess I lived up to my reputation of being terrible with girls again," I said, about to cry. My God. I was absolutely pathetic! Melissa had thought I was worth the trouble of asking to go to the dance with her. And I'd basically just told her that I didn't think that she was worth my time at all. I felt like a complete bastard.

"Looks that way," Bert said, putting his paw on my shoulder. "Sorry, pal."

"What kind of man am I? The one girl interested in me, and I tell her she isn't worth the time. What is wrong with me?"

"Ralph, Ralph," Bert said. "No need to beat yourself up over it now. It's not gonna help you any."

"Well, I feel like it," I said, looking down at the floor. "I'm a no good piece of worthless nothing."

"Ralph, stop it," Bert said.

"Bert, I feel terrible for what I said. I really want to apologize to Melissa and make it up to her, but I…I…I…I just don't know what to do…"

"Ralphie, you might be able to get her back."

Suddenly my ears perked up.

"Really? How would I go about doing that?"

"Well, I think you should give her a little time to cool off. I don't think she wants to see you anymore today, for sure. Maybe you should give Melissa some time, then you can talk to her and apologize to her. I sure as hell wouldn't get my hopes up about going to the dance with her, that's for sure. But hey. You can be my drummer when I perform, no problem." I knew he was trying to help, but I didn't know if he was right.

"Bert, I appreciate your help…" I sighed, drying some tears from my eyes with a tissue. "But I don't feel like I could go out there and perform. She'd probably be there with somebody else. You know how that would make me feel." The thought was already starting to kill me.

"Well, you gotta give her time, Ralph. I'm sure she won't stay mad at you forever. Melissa's just upset that…well, that you spurned her."

I sighed. "I understand, Bert…" I figured it was the best thing I could do. I didn't really have much else of a choice.

I still felt very mopey the next day. Some of her words were ringing through my head.

"You haven't got a single romantic bone in your body, have you?"

Now I realized something. She had wanted this to be romantic. I felt so dumb for not saying yes to her. It was rather obvious she was thinking about this actually going somewhere. You know. In that direction.

A couple of days passed.

"I see you're feeling better now, Ralphie," Bert said, nudging me in the ribs.

"I think so." I said. "Bert, I think I'm going to try to apologize to Melissa today."

"You are? Well, good luck with that. Hope she still isn't too mad at you," Bert said, trying to encourage me.

"I'll see you soon, Bert, I have to go find her."

"Good luck, buddy."

I wandered around outside the Raccoondominium for a while, looking for something to give to her.

After a while I found something.

"Ah," I said. "Here it is. A Christmas rose." I plucked it from the snowy ground. It was pretty miraculous some plants kept growing in winter. "Maybe she'll like this." I at least felt hopeful.

I soon neared her house. Much to my surprise, she was standing there on the front doorsteps of her house.

"This is perfect," I said to myself, "I'm sure she won't be too mad at me…I hope she isn't…"

I was about to approach Melissa to speak to her when suddenly I heard the sound of a motorcycle coming.

I only knew about four or five people around the Forest crazy enough to learn to ride a motorcycle in the winter time, and I hoped it wasn't the one I thought it might be.

I immediately hid, not wanting to be seen.

Sure enough, up pulled a motorcycle.

I saw who was driving it. It was exactly who I feared it would be.

Melissa began to talk to him.

I then literally screamed inside myself.

Oh no! I said to myself. Oh God no. Not him. It can't be him. She can't be interested in him. No…

END CHAPTER TEN

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So just when it looks like Ralph is about to get into Melissa's good graces again, he finds out it looks like she's already found somebody else. Who is this mystery man? You will find out in chapter 11, where he is fully introduced as a rival of Ralph's for Melissa's affection. (And not a good guy, either.)

In case you couldn't tell already, Ralph's father is rather obviously based off the lovable cartoon oaf, Homer Jay Simpson. I thought that was pretty obvious, but you never know. I mean, I even gave him one of Homer's catchphrases. (You know, "Mmm...(insert object of interest/delight here).") I hope you enjoyed his rather comic character.

For those wondering about Snoup's Beer, it actually was in the actual show: if you watch the episode "Double Play!", at one point during the big ball game, you can see a "SNOUPS BEER" advertisement lining the stadium walls. Guess I have a really good eye. I figured that would be Ralph's father's favorite brand of beer.

Oh yes, it's another prank call straight out of the Simpsons. The difference here is that in the show itself, this prank call backfired BIG time against Bart-there actually WAS a man there physically named Hugh Jass.

Once again, read and review.