AUTHOR'S NOTE: After Chapter 12, which is my longest chapter in this fanfic, this fanfic is beginning to wind down. The first part of this chapter is something I wanted to put in the last chapter but had to move it here due to that chapter running long. Enjoy Ralph's dad's Homer-ish antics. And of course, this chapter will feature the dance that's been talked about so much since Chapter 10. Warning, this chapter is almost as long as the last one. All the rest of the chapters will be around this long.
And while I mention it, there are going to be just a few more chapters, as well as an epilogue which wraps up the events leading up to the show itself and also, because I am that big of a nerd, a character list. (Yes...)
Legal Disclaimer and Crap: I don't own the…Oh, come on! You get it by now! Enough of that!
Anyways, I'd like to take this opportunity to say I'd actually love to see a cutaway gag on Family Guy or a sketch on Robot Chicken featuring the Raccoons. It would probably be rather funny (if not outright condemning towards the show). Then again, I take this moment to realize the rather probable likelihood that Seth MacFarlane and Seth Green have never heard of this show (being that it was one of the more obscure '80s cartoons, at least where I live-in the States. Here, it only aired on the Disney Channel, and that was only if you had a cable/satellite. It amazes me that this show was rather popular in its native Canada, yet close to unknown State-side. I guess my fellow Americans were too busy watching GI Joe and He-Man to pay attention to this cartoon.) Eh, oh well...
And now…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Every Picture Tells A Story
It wasn't long before my parents, Melissa, and I had reached my old home.
"Well, boy," my dad said. "Ready to see your old room?"
"Sure, Dad," I replied. I did wonder what my parents had done to it since I'd moved out of their house.
"I can't wait to see your old room," Melissa said to me.
"I suppose you will," I answered.
We entered the house and my dad took Melissa and I upstairs to where my bedroom once was.
"Well, here it is, son." My dad opened the door and flicked on the light switch. "What do ya think?"
I was surprised. My old bed was gone, the place was completely cleared of nearly every trace of me. Instead, the room was filled with tons and tons of junk. Wait a minute…
"What are Sneer Industries' products doing here?"
"Oh, heh heh," my dad said, chuckling. "That's uh…some stuff I borrowed while doing my upholstery work. I always take some little souvenirs from every house I work at."
I shook my head. "Dad, I can't believe it…"
Melissa looked at my father with a rather surprised look on her face. "Mr. Raccoon, you….steal from your clients?"
"I wouldn't use the word stealing, it's such a strong word." My father laughed. "Haha, I prefer to think of it as borrowing! I just take a nice little souvenir from each client's house. It's not stealing if they don't miss it. Isn't that right, boy?" My father looked at me grinning, looking for support.
"Not exactly…" I said, truthfully. "I'm sure they're probably looking for their things."
"That's not what my father told me," Melissa admitted. "I'm pretty sure that is stealing, Mr. Raccoon. You could go to jail for that."
"Eh, whatever!" My father shrugged and looked innocent. "I'm gonna give it back one of these days, when, I don't know, but when I know, I know. But until then, the stuff's staying."
"So you dad is using your old room to store his…souvenirs…." Melissa said, matter-of-factly.
"I know. I'm surprised as well. I would have thought he would have least kept it in order." I was a little disappointed in my dad.
I heard my mother calling from downstairs in the kitchen. "Honey, Ralphie, Melissa! Dinner's ready! Come and get it!"
"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" My father dashed downstairs as fast as he could, his bent nose going all the way. He literally pranced his way down the stairs like a galloping horse.
Melissa shook her head.
"Never have I seen one man so enticed by food..." she said to herself.
"Well, that's Dad for you," I said simply.
"I know. Well, let's eat, Ralph," Melissa answered.
"Alright then," I replied.
We got to the kitchen as my dad was already seated at the table and already had his napkin tied around his neck.
"Ooh, steak!" My dad, said, drooling as my mother placed the steak on the table. He was acting like a small child right now, but that was how he acted when he saw food. "Gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme, gimme!"
"Here you go, dear," my mother said.
"Mmm!" My father immediately cut the fat off his steak and shoved it straight into his mouth.
"Mmm…cow fat…" My father always loved eating pure fat. He loved nearly everything that was incredibly fatty, or extra sugary, or generally unhealthy altogether.
"Here you two are," my mother said as she placed first Melissa's dinner on the table, then mine.
Soon we were having a conversation during dinner. Well, at least my mother, Melissa, and I were-Dad was too busy stuffing his face with his steak.
"So Melissa," my mother asked her, "how long have you known Ralph?"
"Oh, we've known each other almost a year now." She smiled at me.
"Oh yes, about a year," I agreed.
"So you two have really gotten to know one another. How'd you two meet each other? Did you meet each other at college?"
"Sort of," Melissa nodded. "It was really cute. Tell your mother how the two of us met, Ralph!"
"Uh, do I have to? Alright," I said. "I was at the Café trying to get some breakfast, because Bert was trying to get me to eat his peanut butter, when I bumped into her and spilled my coffee on her."
"Ah," my mother sighed. "Reminds me of how my husband and I met. Go on Art, tell our guest how the two of us met."
"Oh c'mon, Millie, that was such a long time ago," my father sighed, his mouth still full of steak. He swallowed it. "But, lemme jog the old brain here. Boy, I hate thinking…" He thought for a minute. "Oh yeah! I met her in my senior year in high school. I was going through the library looking for a book for some project I had for school when I accidentally dropped it on her head. I ended up doing a terrible job on that assignment and getting a low grade. So I dropped out. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea now that I think about it. I wish I did complete high school…"
"You could still go back anytime and complete your last courses, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa told my father. "I'm sure they'd let you do that."
"Me? No way," my dad said, simply. "I never learned anything from school. Hell, I don't even know what the capital of our country is, nor do I even know who our Prime Minister is! The capital's Charlottetown, isn't it?"
Melissa just spoke under her breath. "...Wow."
My mom corrected him. "No, dear, the capital's Ottawa. Charlottetown is on Prince Edward Island."
My dad slapped himself in the face. "See? The things I don't know could fill a book! That's why I failed high school..."
"It's no problem. That was a fascinating story, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa replied to him. "It's interesting learning more about your family, Ralph."
"Well, they are quite a cast of characters," I chuckled.
Soon we were finished with our dinner and my dad raced out into the living room. "Hey, you guys!" He shouted at Melissa and me.
"What is it Dad?"
"You ought to watch that big football game with me! Our Lions are taking on those goddamn Roughriders and I got seventy five bucks riding on this game! If the Lions win, I'm in the money!" My dad always bet on football games.
"Alright, Mr. Raccoon." Melissa smiled. "Come, Ralph, let's watch this game together."
"I suppose so. Remember, my dad can get a little too…into it, if you know what I mean."
"I understand," she replied.
"Alright," my dad said as he flicked on the old black and white television (let's just say he never bothered buying a color television) and he turned it to the game, which was more than halfway over. Already they were almost done with the third quarter. The Lions were losing 25-17.
"Ah, dammit! We're gonna lose! Oh…I can see my money flying away from me already…"
My father sat back in his reclining chair while Melissa and I sat on the couch.
"So what do you think of football, Melissa?" I asked her.
"It's alright, but I've never been much of a fan. I admit I don't know a whole lot about the sport."
"I've seen enough to where I could teach you more about it," I told her. "But I've never actually played. I never took part in sports in high school." This was quite true: I'd never been much of an athlete. Bert had, though: he'd played on our high school's baseball team. Him and Cedric both. They were actually quite good and made it to the playoffs but lost big time in their first game (they got shut out 9-0 as the opposing team pitched a no-hitter) and got eliminated. Bert also tried out for the football team, but they didn't allow him onto the team (something that really upset him).
"Oh, well. I played hockey in high school." Melissa smiled fondly.
"Were you any good?" I asked.
"Oh, I was the best on my team! We almost won the provincial championship, but we lost at the finals…If I could do it all over again…" She was obviously remembering her loss.
"Sorry to hear about that," I said to her.
"Ah, it's nothing, Ralph," Melissa grinned. "You can't win them all, after all. Oh, and I was also the pitcher for my school's girl's softball team." I was definitely impressed. Melissa had been quite an athlete in her school days.
"How good were you at that?" I asked.
"Very good. We actually won the provinical girl's softball championship! I was the best pitcher our school ever had; I had quite the throwing arm."
"Wow," I said, impressed. "That's quite impressive, Melissa."
"I know, but I don't like to brag," she said, modestly.
My dad was getting excited as the Lions were very close to making a touchdown. They were getting ready to make the pass...
"C'mon, you big dummy!" my dad shouted at the TV. "Catch that son of a gun! I want my money!"
The quarterback threw it...
...straight into the arms of the Roughriders' wide receiver.
My dad screamed.
"No, dammit! An interception!" he shouted angrily. "C'mon, this can't be happening! I want my seventy-five dollars, it's the easiest seventy-five I'll ever make!"
Suddenly, the game was interrupted by a local public service announcement.
"WHAT THE-!" My father was getting agitated. He was missing his game. "C'mon, dammit! Go back to the game! Nooooooo!"
The public service announcement showed a beer can with a big "X" over it.
"ATTENTION CITIZENS OF BRITISH COLUMBIA. THE FOLLOWING IS A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT." A voice came over the TV. "It has recently been discovered through a study that alcohol can cause liver damage and death to brain cells. Please, citizens of BC, refrain from drinking alcohol if possible." That was some good advice and some rather strong words.
My father simply reared his head back. "Mmm, beer…" he uttered, as he robotically pulled himself up from his chair and waddled over to the kitchen to presumably go get some Snoup's out of the refrigerator. It was clear he'd only heard one word out of that whole public service announcement: alcohol. Which, in his simple mind, was absolutely delicious.
Melissa chuckled at my father's behavior. "You aren't kidding, Ralph. Your father really is quite a character."
"What can I say? He's my dad," I laughed.
Soon the game was almost over and the final seconds were on the clock. BC was losing 25-24, but they had the opportunity to make a field goal at the last second. That would give them the win, which my father was already starting to pray for as they set up their kick.
"Lord Almighty, if you can hear me," I saw him with his eyes closed, locked in prayer, "please, hear me out. Let the Lions win this game so I can get my seventy-five dollars. I don't ask you for much, Lord, but that's all I'm asking for. Is that too much to ask? I hope not. So, if we're going to win, Lord, then please don't give me any signs." He briefly opened an eye, then closed it again. "Thy shalt be done. Amen!"
Melissa laughed and nudged me. "You definitely weren't kidding when you said your dad takes these games way too seriously."
"He always does. Watch if they lose. He's going to throw a fit."
The kicker was ready to make his field goal attempt. Dad had his fingers crossed.
"C'mon, please, make it make it make it make it make it make it…" he said, in a begging tone.
The kicker made his kick.
"And it's no good!" The announcer shouted. "The Roughriders have won!"
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" My dad's head nearly exploded in anger. "GODDAMMIT! MY SEVENTY FIVE DOLLARS JUST WENT DOWN THE DRAIN! DAMMIT, NO!" He angrily picked up his beer and flung it at the floor, spilling it all over. "DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!" He then realized what he'd just done with his beer and started crying. "AAAHH! NO, MY BEER, MY BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL BEER! Spilt too young-all because we lost!"
Melissa shook her head. "Your dad," she said.
My mother came in. "Art, it's just a game, it's not life or death!"
My dad shouted at her, "Honey, you don't understand, it is if you bet money on it! Oh, woe is me…" My dad pathetically moaned and whined.
My mom sighed, "I suppose I'm going to have to clean up after him…" She shook her head.
"Well," Melissa said, "it was nice having dinner with you, but I think I should be heading back home. I don't think Dad'll like having me out all night. I suppose I'll see you around."
My father sighed. "Nice having you here. Sorry about…heh, heh…my little sports tantrum."
"No problem, Mr. Raccoon." Melissa grinned at him.
"See you later, Melissa. It was a pleasure having you over here, come back any time," my mom called.
"I will, Mrs. Raccoon. Bye, Ralph, I'll see you soon, I hope?" She looked at me.
I couldn't let her walk home alone. "Wait, Melissa. How about I walk you home?"
Melissa turned red. "Ah, of course, Ralph. Such a gentleman," she smiled.
My father winked at me. "Trying to put the moves on her, eh? Good one, son! I taught ya all too well."
I glared at my dad. "Oh, stop, you!"
"Heh, heh…sorry boy."
Melissa and I soon left and we walked home through the forest. It was completely dark outside and she was holding my paw (not the one that was sprained). I couldn't help but blush.
"Wow, Ralph. Today was quite a day, wasn't it?" she laughed.
"Sure was, Melissa. Sorry about that whole…motorcycle thing." I was still a little embarrassed I'd done that. I should have never done that, in retrospect.
"It's alright Ralph. We all make mistakes sometimes, don't we?"
"Very true," I admitted.
"Just promise me, Ralph, that you won't do anything like that again anytime soon. That was very dangerous of you. And besides, you never needed to do that, anyways."
I sighed. "I promise, Melissa...I just didn't know what to do." I ended up breaking that promise when Troy Malone came to town. (Needless to say, I guess I have a very hard time learning from my mistakes!)
Soon we got back to her house. Mike wasn't home, but he left the door unlocked. (Burglary was not very common in the Forest). Melissa opened the door.
"I'll see you soon, Ralph. Thanks for walking me home." She waved goodbye to me.
Suddenly, I remembered there was something I wanted to ask her.
"Wait a minute, Melissa!" I called to her.
She turned around and looked at me. "What is it, Ralph?"
"I, erm, I have…something I'd like to ask you. Do you mind?" I hoped she didn't.
"Of course not, ask away!" She smiled.
"Melissa…erm…uh…how can I say this…will you go with me to the dance?" That came out sounding terrible.
But Melissa didn't care. She giggled.
"I'd love to, Ralph. I'd be honored to go with you." I was surprised. She really was giving me a second chance?
"Really? That's great-ah, I mean, after what I said to you when you tried to ask me?"
Melissa nodded. "Yes. I think you more than deserve another chance, you're a nice guy. It's better than what I planned on doing, I was probably just going to go take some pictures of it by myself. It would have been nice, but not a lot of fun. But yes, Ralph, I can give you another chance. I know we'll have a lot of fun together. Don't you think?" She smiled, and sighed, dreamily. She was definitely looking forward to it-and so was I.
"Oh, definitely!" I agreed. "Looks like we're going to spend Valentine's together…" I chuckled nervously.
"We sure are, Ralph." She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.
"Aahhhh…." I said, feeling my toes curling up once again. My mind was about completely shot.
"I can't wait Ralph, it's only a few days away. Just remember, it's a formal event, so you have to get dressed up for it."
"That's no problem, I have my old tuxedo in my closet somewhere. Left over from when I had my prom. Which didn't turn out so well…" I didn't want to remember my prom-that had been one of the worst nights of my life.
"I'm sure you'll look handsome. Well, I'll be seeing you, Ralph. I sure am looking forward to Valentine's!" She winked as she closed the door.
"See you then," I said.
Everything seemed like it was finally going right for me. All through high school, I'd had so many girl troubles, that I felt like I was always doomed to be alone. Now, it looked like for sure I was finally going to get the girl. Bert was right after all. Things really did change once you got to college.
A couple of nights passed and it was the night before the dance. I was finishing up my big assignment that my grade counted on. I was very proud of what I'd written. I heard the front door open up-Bert had been out most of the night. I assumed he might have been practicing music for the dance.
I went down to greet him.
"Hey, Ralphie boy!" he said as he slapped me on the back. I didn't even care like I usually did. I felt in a pretty good mood.
"Good to see you, Bert," I said to him, "so where have you been?"
"Oh, I was just at Lady Baden-Baden's practicing my setlist for the dance." He grinned.
"I take it you must not have enjoyed that. You're going to be playing a bunch of soft rock, and I know how much you dislike going acoustic…" I laughed. Bert rarely ever played acoustic, he was more often playing his electric and trying to scream his head off, which he (admittedly) was not very good at.
"Hey, I managed to suggest some changes that Lady Baden-Baden agreed with." He seemed proud of himself.
"Really now? So you are going to be playing heavy metal now?" I actually dreaded that possibility. That would certainly not be something to remember. You couldn't really dance to heavy metal. You were supposed to bob your head up and down to it-I never did that.
"Not exactly, Ralph. I'm still going to be playing mostly soft love songs from the past couple decades, but I got a few of those songs dropped and I got some good ones on there instead. So we're going to play some acoustic and some electric. Oh, and I got my band together!" He was excited.
"Who's all in it?" I asked.
"It's me on lead guitar and vocals, Carl Waters on piano and vocals, remember him?" I remembered Carl quite well-Cedric, Bert, and I had gone to high school with him. Carl was a duck and he was Dr. Canard's nephew. He was a very smart guy (bespectacled, too) who finished right behind Cedric in class rank-Cedric was #1, and he was #2. Unlike Cedric, though, Carl was very...eccentric, if I must say so myself. He was probably the oddest kid in my whole grade. Like Cedric and myself, he was something of an outsider-although in his case, it was largely by his own choice (he said he didn't really like people in general). He actually worked on our high school's newspaper with me and the articles he wrote were...bizarre, to say the least. I couldn't really understand them must of the time. Not to mention, some of his mannerisms and his sense of humor were quite odd as well. He actually frequently got in trouble at school for some of his bizarre comments. I had a feeling that something was...not quite right in his head. (It later turned out Carl had a form of schizophrenia.) He played keyboards, just like Cedric, except, unlike Cedric, Carl definitely had ambitions of being a rock keyboardist. He once said he would be the "Canadian Elton Brawn, only with a lot more experimentation and edge". I knew he could play the electric piano and the Ham-mond organ quite well, but I'd never heard him sing, so I was slightly interested to hear what he sounded like.
"Who could forget him?"
"Not me, that's for sure!" Bert said. "We also have Mark Miller on bass guitar, Don Davis on rhythm guitar and vocals, and Clancy Rogers on drums." I knew Don and Mark vaguely; they were college associates of Bert's who were also majoring in music. As for Clancy, I knew him quite well-he was my dad's friend Henry's son and had also gone to high school with me. I remembered him as being a pretty quiet kid. "I would have had Cedric play piano, but, well, he's not here currently, so…I went with Carl."
"Ah. It should be a pretty good performance you five put on." I felt Bert would do a good job. I hoped the rest of the band would too.
"Oh, you'd better believe it Ralph!" He laughed. "I'll show you the new setlist in a minute. First, let's see what's on the TV." He flipped the TV on and flipped through the channels as the both of us sat on the couch together.
"Ah, this should be good!" Bert said as he found something that caught his interest.
"What would that be, Bert?" I wondered.
"Why, it's Oxnard Montalvo's latest movie, The Return Of The Killer Pond Scum From Neptune That Will Eat Your Brain!"
I groaned. "Good grief." Oxnard Montalvo was a B-movie actor (and one of Bert's favorites) well known for appearing in various extremely low budget "horror" films, alongside his real-life girlfriend, Toluca Lake. The both of them were seriously lacking in acting skills, and the only thing terrifying about these movies was how poor the acting was and how low the budget was.
Sure enough, on the TV, Toluca was screaming as a bizarre blob started moving towards her.
I nudged Bert. "Bert, if you don't mind, please, tell me what the hell that thing on the TV is?"
Bert laughed. "Oh, well, Ralphie boy, that's the killer pond scum from Neptune! Toluca and Oxnard defeated it in the first movie by sucking it up with a vacuum cleaner, but now it's come back. And it wants vengeance. It wants their brains..."
I shook my head. Why did Bert watch these?
"Oxnard, get away. It's the pond scum," Toluca said, displaying virtually no emotion at all and just looking at a microphone hanging from the ceiling.
"No, Toluca. We...must fight…this pond…scum. Even if it kills us?" He wasn't even trying to sound convincing.
Toluca screamed as the blob...err, the pond scum slowly started to move towards her and crawled up her arm.
"AHHHHH!" she screamed. At least her scream sounded somewhat convincing. "Get it away from me. Now. Please."
"Toluca," Oxnard said, suddenly pulling out his script right on TV and looking at it. "Please. Cover your ears. Before it tries to get to your brain?"
My goodness, this was terrible. I couldn't believe these things actually made money. Bert, on the other hand, seemed completely fascinated.
"Wowee! Pretty scary, eh, Ralph?" He nudged me, actually expecting me to be scared.
I huffed. "I don't see how that's supposed to be scary at all. All I see is a farce of epic proportions happening on that TV screen."
Bert sighed. "One of these days you'll appreciate Oxnard's talent for these movies, Ralph…" Oxnard was just another one of Bert's many heroes. Talent for what, I wondered though. Hell. I had more acting talent than either he or Toluca did. Bert had a pretty questionable taste in heroes...
"That'll be the day," I said sarcastically.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Bert said, as he pulled a piece of paper out. "This is my setlist. What do you think of it Ralphie? Isn't it a good one?"
I looked over it. He'd changed about seven songs or so. He'd managed to get rid of Woodchuck Berry's My Ding-a-Ling, which was great, as it was most certainly not appropriate for a romantic dance. But overall, the changes were pretty good-until I noticed one of the last songs on the list.
"Bert, you can't be serious. You're not going to play a Steel Airship song, are you?" He had to be kidding. Steel Airship weren't appropriate for Valentine's Day at all-then again, my only real experience listening to them was that first album which I'd hated so much. Bert always had talked me into doing the dumbest things-listening to Steel Airship's debut album, going to see Uriah Sheep...
"Ah, but there's a difference there, Ralphie. This particular song is one hell of a love song, if I may say so myself! You and Melissa'll probably love it, I'm sure. It sounds like just your kind of song." He laughed. I doubted him immediately. I'd never heard this particular song before, so I was expecting it to be a generic heavy metal tune with a bunch of screaming. It was news to me that they had written straight up love songs, though-I'd previously thought all their songs dealing with matters of the heart had been about, well, raunchy sex.
"We'll see, Bert, we'll see." I doubted him greatly. I imagined we would be in for something completely atrocious to the ears.
"Trust me on this, Ralph! This'll change your mind about Steel Airship completely! You'll finally see they're a better band than you give them credit."
"I really doubt that, Bert," I said. "That first album you showed me was enough to put me off of them for a lifetime."
"Well, this'll change your mind, trust me! Oh, and me and the band have got something big planned. We got one more song we're gonna perform that's not on the list. We're playing it last, right after we're done."
Oh boy. "What exactly are you going to play?"
He laughed again. "You'll see…Heh-heh-heh…" I was worried. What could he possibly play last?
Bert went back to watching his movie while I sat there thinking about how this would all turn out-hopefully very well. After a while, Bert struck up a conversation with me again.
"So, Ralph. You and Melissa are going to this dance together." He grinned that mischievous, goofy grin of his.
"That's right, Bert. We most certainly are." I was proud of myself for managing to get her to go with me.
"So, Ralph. Think this'll lead to something big?" He laughed.
"Who knows, Bert," I shrugged.
"Hey," he said winking at me. "This is going to be how you two get together. Am I right?"
I certainly did hope so. "There's a good possibility of it. We'll see how it all turns out."
"Good," he said, putting his paws behind his head. "About time you two got together. It's about time the game of love went your way."
"Thanks," I said, taking that as a compliment.
"Eh, no problem. So what are you going to do with her?" Bert was curious.
"Oh, well, I'm supposed to go pick Melissa up at 6:30. I'm planning on taking her out to dinner and then we'll go to the dance. It should be a nice night." I smiled just thinking about it.
"I gotta be there at five, they want us to practice one last time before we perform. Got to correct any mistakes we've still got in us. Not that we would ever play badly," Bert laughed.
"I'm sure," I chuckled as well. "So, Bert, you and Delilah aren't having dinner or something together?" I hadn't seen Delilah Blackmask in a few months, but it could be possible she and Bert were still going out with each other.
"Delilah who?" Bert asked, feigning ignorance.
"You know who, Bert." I wasn't in the mood for any games.
"Oh, no way, Ralphie. Delilah and I broke up a couple months ago. We had some…ah, differences." He chuckled. "You know."
"Oh." I should have figured as much, but he never told me about it-she just stopped showing up one day.
"Erm, I hate to admit it," Bert said, looking rather sheepish, "but, eh-heh, I sorta…caught something from her…"
Good grief. Delilah had probably been cheating on Bert and given him something. That also meant Bert had had unprotected sex with her. Dammit! Did people just not believe in condoms?
"Dammit, Bert, what did you catch from her?" I was a bit angry at him.
"Heh, heh…" He nervously chuckled. "I got the clap…"
So that was why he'd had that medication. He'd never told me anything about it. "BERT!" I shouted at him, slapping him. "You had unprotected sex with Delilah, didn't you?"
"Well, yeah…" he shrugged. "But I don't know, I was really drunk at the time...I don't know. Can't really remember it."
That still didn't excuse it.
"Bert, you realize you probably deserved to catch that from her doing that. Besides, you know that means she was probably sleeping around on you, right?"
"Oh, I know that, pal, I know that. That's why I dumped her."
"Bert, you don't understand. You didn't use protection, don't you realize there's a chance you might have gotten her pregnant?"
Bert's eyes widened. "Oh shit…" He said. "Damn, I hope not."
"Bert, my brother, my father, and Mike Mulligan all almost had illegitimate children, do you want to be like them?"
"Not really…" he sighed.
"Bert, if she got pregnant, you'll probably have to marry her. That, or Delilah'll start demanding you pay child support on the kid. You better hope you didn't knock her up."
"Eh, what are the odds? It was only one time," he said, trying to look on the bright side.
"Higher than you'd think," I said frowning at him.
"Well, no worries. I'm sure it's nothing to be worried about."
"I hope not." I sighed.
The next day came and it was almost time for the dance. Bert was already getting ready. Surprisingly, he wasn't dressing up-all he did was put a bowtie on. He still wore his trademark sweater.
"Not dressing up?" I asked.
"Meh, I hate dressin' up." He said. "I'm sure nobody'll care if I play dressed like this, I doubt my band's dressing up either."
"I wouldn't count on that…" I said as I was already getting ready. I already had my tux on and was adjusting my bowtie. "Well," I asked. "Tell me what you think, Bert. How do I look?"
"Heh, like a million bucks!" He laughed. "Melissa is going to be very impressed, no doubt!"
I smiled. "I sure do hope so. I wonder what she's going to be wearing?" I said aloud.
"She'll probably impress ya too, Ralph." He grinned.
"Oh, probably." I admitted.
"Well, I gotta get going now, Ralphie boy," Bert said, grabbing his guitar and his amplifier. "Good luck to you on your date!"
"Thanks, I hope you perform well," I said waving to him as he left. "Please, no antics." I hoped he wouldn't act up like he said he might last night.
After about an hour it was about time to head over to the Mulligan household to pick Melissa up.
"Well," I said as I left the house, "here goes everything. Let's see how this all turns out."
It took me about twenty-five minutes to reach the Mulligan house.
I knocked on the door, and Mike answered.
He opened the door and stared at me.
"Ah, it's you. Say," he said, taking a closer look at me. "Looking smart there, kid. I'm certain my daughter'll be impressed."
"Where is she?" I asked. "I'm here to take her to the dance."
"Ah, she's upstairs getting ready. Should be down here in a few minutes. I'll tell her if you like."
"Sure thing, Mike."
Mike stood at the foot of his stairs and called. "Hey, Melissa, your date is here!"
I heard her calling from her bedroom, "Ah, just a minute, Dad. I'll be right down!"
Mike spoke to me, "Well, she'll be down any minute, Ralph. Come, come sit with me on the couch."
"Alright," I said as the two of us sat down.
Mike pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up and started smoking it.
"Ah, tobacco..." he said, to himself as he exhaled the smoke. "What about you, kid? You fancy a smoke?"
I shook my head. "No, Mike, I'd rather not. I had a cigarette when I was in eighth grade, I didn't like it. I don't plan to start anytime soon."
"Well, that's good," Mike said, grinning. "That's the answer I hoped I'd hear. Believe me, Ralph, you don't ever want to start smoking. 'Cause once you start, you'll never be able to stop. I know. I started smoking when I was ten. Found a pack of cigarettes in a garbage can. Smoked 'em just for fun, and well, I ended up getting addicted to these babies. They're my oral fixation, if ya will. What can I say? I was a real dumb kid."
I listened to Mike's story. "Have you tried to quit?" I asked, curiously.
"Of course I have, kid. I've tried quitting many times. My wife almost successfully made me quit-but when she died, I took it up again. I actually became a chain smoker for quite a while. Used to smoke three whole packs of these a day. I've smoked so many cigarettes in my lifetime I should be dead by now. At least, that's what the doctors told me. Melissa tried to get me to stop because she was worried for my health, so I tried going cold turkey. Didn't work, I ended up having lots of spasms and all sorts of other problems, so I ended up going right back to smoking. I tried again a couple years ago, ended up chewing it instead of smoking it. That's much worse for you. Rots your teeth out. I chewed tobacco nonstop for a year and rotted some of my teeth right out. So eventually I just went back to smoking again. I've tried cutting it back to one pack a day; and so far I've been able to stick to it. But like I said, don't be like me, Ralph. Once you start there's a good chance you'll never be able to stop." He took another puff off of his cigarette.
"I don't plan to anytime soon," I repeated.
Mike spoke again. "Well, that's good. I don't think my little angel would like that. Speaking of you two," he said, changing the subject to a more pressing matter, "I do hope you have a good time tonight with my little darling. She's really looking forward to it. She's…ah, quite fond of you, I'd say."
I nodded. "I noticed."
"Well, you'd probably be the best boyfriend she's had. She had a few in high school."
"Really?" I said, curious. "What were they like?"
"Can't say I cared for any of 'em, honestly. I remember the one guy she went to her prom with. Was trying to become an aviator or something or other. He was too cocky, couldn't say I liked him one bit."
"Interesting…" I said, to myself. I'd later find out that that particular guy had been Troy Malone, Melissa's old high school boyfriend, but I didn't find that out until years later.
"Yeah, he was a real asshole. Couldn't stand him at all, I was glad when the two of 'em broke up shortly before graduation. I used to mock him all the time by singing that one old song by Eric Beardon, how does it go...Oh yeah. 'Sky pilot, how high can you fly? You'll never, never, ever reach the sky!' Didn't faze him one bit."
I vaguely knew that song. "Must have been quite a guy," I mused.
"Yeah, quite the asshole, like that Arnold guy. But, ah, anyways, kid, ah, like I said, I hope you two have a good time tonight. But not too good a time. If you get my drift." I knew exactly what he was trying to suggest.
"Mike, I don't think that'll happen. You don't need to worry about it." I didn't plan on that happening, but you never knew…
"Well, you never can tell kid. They always say to watch out for the nice guys, the quiet ones. Above all, what I'm trying to say is, you two better not be having any funny business. If you're planning on doing that, you'll have to marry her first. I raised her not to make the same dumb mistakes as me. But I can never tell if I've raised her well enough. Do you know what I'm gonna do to you if I find out you two did do the dirty?" He glared at me.
"Uh…what?" I had an idea it would not be pleasant, knowing Mike.
"I'm gonna plug you right between the eyes with my shotgun. Don't think I won't do it too! Because although I may have shot my own damn eye out when I was a little kit, my shooting abilities have increased a lot since then. Hell, I was the president of my local gun club back in Prince Rupert! I figure I could nail you right there between the eyes!"
I heard Melissa's voice from behind me. "Ah, come on, Dad, you don't take Ralph for that kind of a guy, do you? And besides, you may have been president of the gun club, but no offense, you are a terrible shot." I'd been so busy talking to Mike that I'd never even noticed her come downstairs.
"Well, honey, I think I am a pretty good judge of character, but I can always be wrong." Mike chuckled to me. "I gave that same warning to her old boyfriends too, you're not the first, believe me, kid."
"I understand, Mike, you're only trying to look out for her." Maybe he was a little too protective, but he was just concerned about her-any father would be.
"That I am."
"Okay, I'm ready, Ralph," Melissa said excitedly. I turned to look at her.
"Well, how do I look?" she asked me.
I took a good look at her, and needless to say…I was…well…awestruck. Melissa was wearing a simple lavender dress. Not the fanciest dress, but...it fit her very well, I must say. She was wearing some nice-smelling perfume and a pearl necklace. To me, she looked very beautiful.
I was finding myself coming up short for words.
"You look…ah…ah…ah…lovely, Melissa." I just couldn't help but get tongue-tied. I was too taken in by her beauty.
Melissa giggled. "Thanks, Ralph. I thought you'd like it. Say, you look pretty handsome yourself." She smiled at me, I couldn't help but blush.
"Oh, well, this is my old tux from when I went to prom. It's…well, it's an experience I'd like to forget." It most certainly was.
"Aw, don't worry. I'm certain this will make up for those bad memories. Hey," she chuckled, "you could even consider this your second prom, if you'd like."
That was actually a nice idea. "I might just do that," I laughed.
"Well," Mike said. "I suppose you two ought to get going. I don't think I need to spoil your night."
"What's the matter, Dad?" Melissa looked at her father a bit concerned.
"Oh nothing, sweetheart. It's just…ah…it makes me kind of sad to see my little girl having a date for Valentine's Day, while in the meantime I gotta go off to my bar and go tend to it. All the lonely folks who couldn't get a date will probably be at my Beer Emporium and at Greg's House of Beer-damn that Greg." Mike still had that grudge against his rival. "But, seriously, I'm probably the hero to those people. They're lonely, and so am I. All I'll have for company on Valentine's Day is a bunch of miserable drunks. You have him." Mike sighed.
"Aw, cheer up Dad. Who knows? You might meet someone you really like at the bar. I met Ralph at the Café, you never know where it might happen!"
Mike sighed heavily. "I wish I could believe that…" He looked at me. "But Valentine's Day is the worst holiday ever, no offense. It only serves to remind people like me that we're forever alone. But, I apologize if I'm depressing you two. You two should get going. Ralph, have her back before midnight, if you can. I don't want the two of you out all night now."
Melissa sighed. "Well, alright, Dad. See you tomorrow, then."
"Later, Mike," I waved to him.
"Bye, you two have a good time."
As we went out walking, I struck up a conversation with Melissa.
"Your father is awfully lonely," I said. "I feel pretty sorry for him."
"He's been lonely for a long time," she replied. "I wish I could do something for him, but there doesn't seem to be much I can do. He doesn't seem to want to even try to find happiness."
"Poor guy," I said sympathetically. "Your mother's death really did hit him hard."
"Oh, I know…" Melissa sighed. "It has to be really hard on him, he has to be both my father and my mother. At the same time!"
"Maybe he'll find somebody someday?" I did think it would do Mike a lot of good to find love again.
"I'd like to hope so," she said hopefully.
We walked for a while, and then Melissa asked, "So, Ralph, what do you have in mind for tonight?"
"Oh, we're going out to dinner, remember?" I did tell her that over the phone.
"Oh, that's right, I remember. That's really nice of you. So where are we going?"
"Lassater's, I guess. I'd go somewhere nicer, but uh, there sort of isn't anything nicer."
"Fair enough," she replied.
Soon we got to Lassater's. It was full up of couples eating out together for Valentine's.
"What do you want, Melissa? It's on me." I knew that was the gentlemanly thing to do.
"It doesn't really matter, Ralph. I'll see what they've got. Maybe some pasta would be nice. Oh, by the way, that's very nice of you to pay for my dinner." She grinned at me. "One of my old boyfriends back when I was in high school insisted that I was the one who had to pay for dinner! He made me pay for his dinner, can you believe that?"
"Huh. What a guy he must have been." He didn't sound like a nice guy at all.
"You have no idea, Ralph. He never cared about me at all! All he cared about was how much money he could save. You're much better than he ever was." She winked at me.
We soon got our meal and sat down to eat. Mr. Lassater came out.
"Hey, if it isn't my favorite employee!" He laughed. "Ah, Ralph. I see you've got yourself a little girlfriend with you, have you not?"
"Sure do, sir. I'm taking her to the dance tonight." I grinned sheepishly.
"Well, well, good on you, Ralph. Ah," he said to Melissa. "You're the guy who owns that bar's daughter, aren't you?"
"Yes, Mr. Lassater, sir. That's my dad. It's nice meeting you." Melissa smiled.
"Nice making your acquaintance, too. Well, Ralph, good luck," he winked at me. "See ya at work Monday."
"I'll be seeing you there," I replied as he went back behind the counter.
While Melissa and I were having our dinner, we made some more small conversation.
"So, Melissa," I asked her, "did you see that…one movie that came out a couple years ago?" Dammit, the name slipped my mind at the moment.
"What movie would that be?" She was curious.
"Uh, hold on, let me think of the name…" I thought for a bit, then it came to me. "Oh, I remember. Airplane. Did you see that one?" That particular movie had come out the summer right after Cedric, Bert and I had graduated from high school, it came out while I was depressed from my Uncle Rocky disowning me as his nephew. Bert took me to it to cheer me up and told me it would be hilarious. I doubted it very much, especially since this was a movie about an airplane (since I was very scared of them), but in the end, Bert was right. It was one of the funniest movies I'd ever seen and it really did put me in a better mood. What I thought was funniest about it was how the whole thing was completely making fun of disaster movies, and yet the actors kept straight faces while delivering their lines. It had its fair share of crude humor, but then again, what comedy doesn't have some crude humor?
Melissa laughed. "Oh, that movie," she said, giggling. "Oh yes, I remember seeing that one. It was right after I moved here. My dad took me to it."
"Remember Leslie Shearsen in it?" Leslie Shearsen had stolen the show in that movie, he had definitely been the funniest character in the whole movie. It was very odd seeing him in a comedic role, considering virtually every movie I'd ever seen him in had him playing a serious or a dramatic role, but, he managed to pull it off. Really though, almost all the actors in that movies had been known for their serious roles.
"Oh, do I ever!" She laughed, and tried to imitate him. "I am serious…and don't call me Shirley." We both laughed.
I also tried my hardest to imitate Leslie's dead-pan serious tone. "I just wanted to tell you both, good luck. We're all counting on you. Oh wait, that sounded terrible…" I sighed. I was never very good at voice impersonations.
"It's not that bad, Ralph. Did you know I also considered taking up a career in acting? I used to take part in quite a few plays during school." I didn't know that; I was a little impressed.
"Wow. You must have been pretty good," I said lowly.
"I liked it, but it wasn't the career for me. Say, I could teach you how to be better at acting." She winked.
"That would be very nice," I smiled.
Soon we were done with our dinner. I paid for both mine and Melissa's dinners, and then it was off to Lady Baden-Baden's residence for the big dance.
"Melissa, I hope you don't mind the fact I can't dance well…" I honestly could not, I often tripped over my own two feet. I knew I would embarrass myself.
"Oh, Ralph, don't worry," she said, reassuringly. "You'll be fine. As long as you have fun, it doesn't matter, remember?"
"I suppose so," I replied, though not terribly sure.
Soon everyone was gathered at her mansion. There were many couples there, a few people I recognized. Some around our age, some considerably older. I guessed there were maybe 200 people here.
"This is going to be fun," I said.
"You said it, Ralph!" Melissa laughed.
Soon enough, Lady Baden-Baden stepped up onto the makeshift stage and took the microphone.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and may I personally welcome to my first annual Valentine's Day Ball. I hope all of you will have a wonderful time tonight with the ones you love and care about. Now, if I may, allow me to introduce our musical act for tonight's Ball, Bert Raccoon and his Flying Aces!" I laughed at Bert's choice for a band name.
"Hehheh. Flying aces." I chuckled.
"I can't wait to see what they're going to play," Melissa smiled.
The curtain lifted back as Lady Baden-Baden stepped off the stage. Sure enough, there was Bert, with his guitar plugged in to his amplifier. Carl Waters, Bert's old duck friend, was on piano, Don Davis, a kangaroo, had his rhythm guitar, Mark Miller, a goat, was on bass, and Clancy Rogers, a beaver, was on drums.
"So," I laughed. "This is the group that is going to take the world by storm. Bert Raccoon and his Flying Aces."
Melissa chuckled as well. "I'm sure they won't be that bad, Ralph."
"You never can tell with Bert," I said warily.
Bert stepped up to the microphone and spoke to the crowd.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! It's lovely to be here, as we will be playing here tonight some love songs of the past two decades you may or may not remember. We hope you'll enjoy our show, this is sort of our first gig together. Who knows where we may go from here?" He laughed. "But anyways, enough about ourselves, we'd like to start off with a song that was popular just a few years ago, from the smash hit band, Vacation."
"Ralph, this is it. Are you ready?" Melissa smiled at me.
"Ready as I'll ever be." I never cared much for Vacation, I had always thought of them as being something of…well….a chick band.
Carl started off on his piano and he sang.
"Opened my eyes to a new kind of way
All the good times that you saved
Are you feeling?
You feeling that way too?
Or am I just
Am I just your fool?"
Melissa and I were dancing with each other, slowly.
Then Bert came in on his guitar and he took over.
"When the summer's gone, she'll be there
Standing by the light
Once she's been to where she's gone to
She should know wrong from right."
Bert and Carl took turns trading vocals on this song.
Melissa smiled at me.
"Oh, Ralph, I love this song," she laughed.
"Really?" I asked.
"I sure do! That Steve Ferret's quite a singer, you know!" Steve Ferret was the main vocalist in Vacation.
"I never cared much for that band, but this isn't so bad," I smiled, as we danced together.
Soon that song ended, and the band played several more songs. A few Beetles, a few of King's songs, a couple of Elton Brawn songs, and a few others. Bert and Carl sang most of the songs (I was surprised-Carl had quite a good deep singing voice), but Don sang a couple of the songs. The ones he sang were very unmemorable, though-he had quite a whiny voice, to be honest.
Melissa and I were sitting down having a drink together.
"So, Ralph. Are you having fun?" she asked me.
"More fun than I've had in the longest time," I laughed.
Carl spoke into the microphone. "Thank you, thank you very much. We'd like to apologize for our drummer-that's Clancy, here-our drummer's behavior during that last song." Clancy had played rather furiously on the last song they'd done. "A real monster, this guy is. Can't really help it though-he dropped out of his high chair onto his head when he was a little sprout." Carl took a drink of water and continued. "Not really his fault. But quite a character, he is." Clancy waved to all of us.
"What's going on?" Melissa said, confused by what Carl was saying to the crowd in between songs.
"That's Carl," I said. "I went to high school with him, he always had the oddest sense of humor." I realized Carl was trying to be funny-as far as I knew, Clancy had never hit his head when he was a child.
"Oh," Melissa replied.
Carl continued. "Ah, a bit of a funny story, really. Like I said, he dropped onto his head when he was small. We-that being the four of us besides him-we, while we were rehearsing for this dance, we'd, uh, we occasionally clipped off his claws and smoked 'em. You know, like that." He took another drink of water. "Quite something-don't knock it until you try it."
Some of the audience laughed while others (including Melissa) looked quite confused.
"What on earth is he talking about?" she asked me.
"I have no clue. Carl was always like that in high school. I don't mean to sound rude, but I've always suspected he was a few marbles short of the whole bag."
"I think I can see that," Melissa mused.
"Now, ah, anyways, on to our next number," Carl said. "This is, ah, a little number written right here by Bert himself and a good friend of his. Went to high school with him, name of Ralph, I believe. He was a pretty good kid-always writing poetry. I believe the two of them live together currently. But, ah, anyways, we'd like to play this little ballad called, ah, 'All Life Long.'"
Melissa and I got up. "Wow, Ralph," she said, sounding pretty impressed. "I didn't know you wrote songs."
"I do sometimes-Bert writes the chorus and I write the verses. He asked me to help him with that."
"This should be interesting," she replied.
Sure enough, Carl began on his piano singing in that deep voice of his. Bert began strumming his acoustic.
"We would stand on Saturday nights
The boys 'n' me in line
Fighting for a chance to dance with you.."
Then Don took over singing. I was surprised Bert wasn't singing on this one, considering he'd co-written it.
"I can still remember
The look upon your face
You were so surprised
That I told you..."
The whole band began signing as Clancy began bashing his drums and Mark began wailing away at his bass.
"All life long, I knew it was forever!
All life long, I knew we couldn't stop!
All life long, I knew it was forever!
All life long!"
Melissa spoke to me as we danced. "Cute little song you wrote there, Ralph..."
"Yeah," I replied. "I don't remember when I wrote this. I think this was my attempt to write a romantic pop song..."
"Not bad at all," she complimented me.
"Thanks," I replied.
They played several more songs, and now they were down to their last two songs. We'd been here about two and a half hours.
Bert spoke into the microphone this time. "This next number we'd like to play, is a very old R&B number that was a hit many years ago when I was just a kit. I'm certain that the older folks here will remember this one."
"Oh, I do," Carl said. "First song I ever learned on piano. Winter of 1969. I was eight years old..."
Bert interrupted him. "As I said, this is an old song. This is a slow one." I wondered what song that could be.
Bert then began singing in a rather despairing tone.
"We've already said…
Goodbye
Since you gotta go
Oh, you'd better go now!
Go now! Go now!
Before you see me cry…"
Oh God, not this song. I suddenly found my eyes starting to tear up. This was a very old song, one of the Moody Newts' very first songs. It was one of the saddest songs I'd ever heard in my life. I loved this song, and yet, at the same time, I hated this song as well. I'm sure you know what I mean, you've all probably known a song you felt that way about.
Melissa noticed while we were slow dancing together. "Ralph? Are you crying? What's wrong?"
I sniffed. "Oh, it's nothing, nothing, Melissa. It's just…I hate this song so much…"
"You do?" She asked.
"Yes, it reminds me of my childhood days. They were not very happy…"
"Aw, I'm sorry, Ralph. But those days are behind you now! Think about that." She smiled.
"You're right," I said. The future would have much better days, I felt.
Bert finished with this number.
"I don't wanna see you go
But darling, you'd better GO NOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!"
We all applauded him.
"Thank you very much," he said to us. I realized he hadn't played that Steel Airship song yet that he had managed to get onto the setlist, I realized that that was the last song he was going to play. Oh boy. This would be ear-shredding.
"Anyways," Bert said, chuckling into the microphone, "this next song is our last song for tonight, and it's a very special one. It's quite the song of love, if you know what I mean. This last song, I am dedicating it to a very close friend of mine, one who's here tonight with a girl he fancies very much. I sure hope the both of them are having a good time. I dedicate this song to the both of them."
I smiled a bit. Even if this would be an ear-shredding heavy metallic monster, it was a very nice gesture of Bert to dedicate a song to the two of us.
Melissa smiled. "Bert sure is a good friend to dedicate a song he's performing to you!"
"I know," I said. "Too bad it had to be a Steel Airship song..."
"I take it you don't like them," Melissa concluded.
"Not one bit," I admitted, "I can't stand their music at all."
"They're not that bad," she said. "Their singer was pretty good. I never listened to them much but I thought they had some good songs."
"We'll see..." I said, lowly.
"Alright, here we go." Bert said as they got started.
"And if I say to you tomorrow
Take my hand, child, come with me
It's to a castle I will take you
Where what's to be they say will be..."
I was totally surprised. This sounded nothing like the Steel Airship I heard Bert trying to play all the time. This was actually a mostly soft and sweet romantic number. I was impressed. They really did have lighter material. I suddenly found myself gaining respect for that band I thought I would never give them. Admittedly, it did have a few heavy parts to it (not to mention that at the end Bert did scream his head off), but it was still a nice song.
Melissa smiled as the two of us danced to it. "This is quite a cute song, Ralph," she giggled.
"I'll say. I never thought that Steel Airship could write anything like that."
"It could be our song, don't you think so?" I could tell she was already contemplating our future.
"Perhaps so."
Soon, Bert finished and drew a big round of applause from the crowd.
"Thank you, thank you very much!" Bert said, bowing before the crowd. "You've all been a lovely audience tonight and I hope that each and every one of you has enjoyed yourselves. But…" Bert started laughing to himself. "That wasn't our last number."
I saw Lady Baden-Baden coming towards the stage. "What? That was supposed to be his last song…"
Bert continued. "We'd like to take this opportunity to show you what we think rock and roll really is supposed to be." He laughed heartily as he looked to his band.
"Ready, guys?" He said to them.
"Ready!" they all chuckled.
"Let's burn this joint down," I heard Carl laugh.
"Alright, here we go!" Bert immediately started playing this incredibly sleazy sounding guitar melody and the whole band joined in. I recognized it immediately-it was a song that had come out when Cedric, Bert, and I were about 11 or 12. It was an extremely sleazy sounding song that had some incredibly…"manly" lyrics, if I must say.
"In the morning
Don't say you love me
'Cause I'll only kick you out the door!
I know your name's Rita
'Cause your perfume's smelling sweeter
Than when I saw you down on the floor!"
Melissa shook her head. "That Bert," she said. "I don't know about him."
"What can I say?" I said plainly. "He told me he was going to do something like this, and he wasn't kidding. Just another of his antics."
"Such an inappropriate song..." Melissa said, plainly.
"Oh boy, I know. Should have figured he'd do this..."
"Ralph, I think we should go. What do you think?" Melissa looked eager to leave.
"I think so too." As we both went to leave, we saw Lady Baden-Baden pulling the plug on Bert's amplifier, ending his rebellious performance.
I was preparing to take Melissa home when she spoke to me. "Ralph, aren't you forgetting something?"
"What's that?" I asked.
"They're going to be launching fireworks off tonight. For all the couples of the Evergreen Forest. I'd like to see that." She smiled and turned to me. "What about you?"
"Sure, it'll be a nice display," I replied. "We can go down to the old dock by Evergreen Lake. We'll be able to get a good view of it there."
We soon made our way to the old dock. This was where Melissa had gone fishing with Bert and myself this past summer. The lake was frozen over (since it was winter), but it still was a nice spot, even though it was quite cold out.
We sat down together as we both put our arms around each other.
"They should be launching them off any minute now," Melissa said.
"Should be quite a sight." I muttered.
Soon enough the fireworks started being launched. They were quite a dazzling sight, if I may say so myself. Melissa was awestruck.
"Look at them, Ralph! Aren't they beautiful?" She nudged me.
"They're definitely a spectacular sight, I'll say that much." Melissa rested her head on my shoulder.
"I love fireworks, don't you?"
"Sure, they're pretty nice," I admitted.
She looked me in the eyes and smiled at me.
I spoke to her.
"Melissa, thank you for going to this dance with me. I was worried you wouldn't want to after what I said a few weeks ago…"
"It's no problem, Ralph, I had a lovely time. I haven't had this much fun in a long time. Probably been a few years. What more could I possibly ask for?"
"I'm just glad you didn't go with Arnold," I said, lowly.
"Arnold? Hah, I would never go with him. He was just a little too cocky. Not to mention, I figured out before you went through that whole...motorcycle...thing that he'd beaten you up, that was why you were trying to avoid me. I couldn't possibly say yes to him."
"I hope we'll never see him again," I laughed.
"Who knows?"
"I can't believe it's only been a little less than a year since we've met," I smiled. "I felt like we've known each other our whole lives."
"I know exactly what you mean," she agreed.
"I owe so much to you. If it weren't for you, I'd have been killed on that camping trip we had. You saved my life, remember?"
Melissa nodded. "How could I ever forget, Ralph?'
"Before I met you, I always had troubles with girls. I could never seem to find the right one. I couldn't get up the courage to talk to them, I was much too shy. But ever since I met you, that's all changed." I laughed.
"I know, Ralph! You were pretty shy when I first met you. Now look at you. You're still a little shy, but you're growing a lot more confident in yourself. I guess I made a really big impact on your life," she chuckled. "But I know what you mean. I had a few boyfriends throughout high school, but they were never like you. They were always so cocky and full of themselves, I grew tired of them. I thought it'd be years before I found the right one."
I blushed heavily as I spoke to her. "Melissa?"
"Yes, Ralph?"
"I love you, Melissa Mulligan." I just felt that it would mean a lot to hear that from me in person.
Melissa looked touched. "Oh, Ralph," she giggled, also turning red. "I pretty much already knew that...but, still. That really means a lot to me. I love you too, Ralph Raccoon."
I'd had the hunch for the longest time she did, now I knew for sure.
We both found ourselves gazing into each other's eyes.
"Ralph…" Melissa said, in a dreamy tone of voice.
"Yes, Melissa?"
I found her leaning in closer to me.
I leaned in too as our lips touched. My first kiss. It was everything I'd hoped it would be and then some.
No, scratch that. Our first kiss. The first of many.
I knew, right then and there, deep within my heart, we'd be together for a long time to come.
END CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, that was another very long chapter. Sorry, I get a little bit into it. So now, Ralph and Melissa are officially together. It took them the majority of the story, but at last they are together as a couple. And of course, Bert continues his mischievous behavior.
I believe I have the Canadian football season all wrong, but I wanted to include that part as I thought it would be funny...
All the songs you see played at the dance are real songs. They are, as follows, in order: Feeling That Way by Journey (written by Aynsley Dunbar, Steve Perry (I renamed him Steve Ferret), and Gregg Rolie, from the 1978 album Infinity), All Life Long, one of the songs used on the show itself (presumably written by the show's staff), Go Now, an old R&B number covered by the Moody Blues (written by Larry Banks and Milton Bennett, from the 1965 album The Magnificent Moodies, it really is one of the saddest songs I've ever heard (truthfully I'm not sure how appropriate this song is for dance, probably not very). Also, the singer on this song, Denny Laine, actually sounds a little bit like Bert, to me at least!), What Is And What Should Never Be by Led Zeppelin (written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, from the 1969 album Led Zeppelin II, it's one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs. Not sure why I picked as the song Bert dedicated to Ralph and Melissa, though...), and Stay With Me by the Faces (written by Rod Stewart and Ron Wood, from the 1972 album A Nod Is As Good As A Wink…To A Blind Horse-needless to say, it is indeed a very…raunchy song). I do not own the rights to any of these lyrics, they all belong to their respective copyright holders.
Leslie Shearsen is, of course, a Raccoons version of the late, great Leslie Nielsen (who just recently passed away), one of the greatest actors of all time (in my opinion, your mileage may vary). I will never forget him for his roles in Airplane and The Naked Gun series, my second favorite film series of all time (behind Austin Powers).
Oxnard Montalvo and Toluca Lake, the B-movie stars, come from an old Nickelodeon cartoon, a favorite of mine called the Angry Beavers. In case you haven't seen it, it's a cartoon about two beaver brothers named Norbert and Daggett who live together and are different as night and day (Norbert being the more level-headed and laid-back one, Daggett being the more chaotic and crazy one); chaos ensues as a result. The both of them are fans of these terrible B-movies; so much so that in one episode they actually made one. They are just as bad as the one presented here in this fanfic; movies include The Crawling Spleen and The Attack Of The Giant Viking Women From Venus. I just had to reference the Angry Beavers in here…
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There are only three more chapters left, and one is an epilogue, so, technically, there are just two more chapters. Almost done!
As always, read and review.