The Story Of Ralph Raccoon

by MullerLowLife

Ralph Raccoon retells the story of the earlier years of his life, especially of how he met his wife, Melissa. Contains some disturbing and depressing scenes. Complete unless I am requested to go back and change/add/remove anything.

16. Chapter 16: One Together

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So now, this fanfic is almost at a close. Last chapter, Ralph's father suffered a medical emergency in the lead-up to Ralph and Melissa's wedding. That'll come in this chapter, as well as the gathering of the entire Raccoon family, and a few other things.

Also, if you thought the last few chapters were long, you haven't seen anything yet…I actually laugh looking back at Chapter 2 and saying that that was a long chapter. It certainly doesn't seem that way now!

So now, for the next to last time…

Legal Disclaimer and Crap: I don't own the Raccoons…Well, you're nearing the end. And now, instead of sharing an "inspirational" quote or an opinion/question to pose to the readers, I'd like to take this opportunity to share one of the most inspiring stories of bravery I've ever heard: the story of 1970s Indy Car driver Jimmy Caruthers. Caruthers was a promising young driver from Anaheim, California who had a family history of racing and through the early '70s was competing full time in both the USAC Champ Car (Indy Car) Division and the USAC Silver Crown Division (midget cars). He finished 5th in 1974 Champ Car points despite not winning a race due to being very consistent. However, in early 1975, the promising youngster suddenly became ill early in the year. He was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and it was already too late for treatment-the disease would be terminal. Caruthers had only a few months to live. Despite the death sentence hanging over his head, Caruthers was determined to not let this bring him down…he continued to compete full time in both series that year despite the fact he was already wasting away due to the cancer. He qualified 10th for that year's Indy 500 and finished in 14th place, and had his best season ever in the Silver Crown series, winning a bunch of races and entering the last race of the year with an opportunity to win the championship. Despite his already advanced detiration from the disease, Caruthers finished 3rd in the season finale, and won the Silver Crown championship…while dying. By this time his disease was so advanced that he was already close to death. He would never even have the chance to be awarded his trophy…just a little over a month after claiming the title, Caruthers passed away at just 30 years of age from his cancer. Now THAT, I think, is true courage right there. Continuing to do what you love even while dying, and succeeding at it. There's a very old book out there about Caruthers and his story, and there were apparently plans to make a movie about his story that ended up falling through (a shame…)

Now that I have shared that, let's dive in one more time into…

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: One Together

It took a few hours, but my dad ended up making it through his surgery. He'd greatly feared that he wouldn't make it out of this alive, but he did. Within a couple of weeks Dad was right back up on his feet again.

But he found things quite difficult for himself. J. Marvin Mills had fired him from his job due to his heart attack; which as I mentioned, was not right of him. He tried to get his job back, but J. Marvin wouldn't even allow him near the place. As such, Dad found himself falling on hard times and struggling financially.

It reached its peak one night when he visited Mike's Beer Emporium. Dad found himself with no money to pay for his beer, so he asked Mike if he could cover this by adding it to his bar tab, which, as mentioned, already had three-hundred dollars on it he had yet to pay.

"No, Art, I can't possibly do that. Sorry," Mike had told my father.

"What? Why not, Mike? I've been coming here the past five years, not to mention our children will be getting married within a little over a month-I believe you owe me an explanation!" my father had angrily shouted at Mike.

Mike had calmly responded, "You want me to be honest, Art? Honestly, I don't believe you'll ever find another job and thus you'll never be able to pay me back. How can I possibly cover you? It wouldn't be right of me to do that."

"Oh…" my father had said, slinking out of the bar, depressed.

"Don't worry, Art," Mike had called to him as he left. "You might not be able to come here anymore, but we're still friends. Plus our kids' wedding's still on, ya know!"

That didn't help cheer up my father one bit. Adding to his depression was some news Dr. Canard had told him while in hospital right after his triple bypass. "Mr. Raccoon, it would be wise of you to cut back on the amount of unhealthy food you eat; otherwise I expect we'll be seeing you a lot more often around here!" My father misunderstood Dr. Canard-he interpreted that as meaning he could never eat anything fatty again, as he assumed that it would probably kill him. Thus, my dad had ended up severely adjusting his diet and as such had become even more depressed as he was deprived of the foods he dearly loved.

One day Melissa spoke to me about it.

"Ralph, your dad's absolutely miserable. Ever since he had his heart attack, he's had such a hard time. He can't even drink anymore; that's how miserable he is."

"I know," I replied to her, "but what can we do? J. Marvin Mills won't take him back and no other place seems to want to hire him. Seems J. Marvin spread the word about my Dad's poor work record around the whole Forest."

"It isn't right," Melissa said, sympathetically. "Sure, your dad might not be the brightest bulb on a Christmas tree, but he didn't deserve to get fired for a medical emergency that was beyond his control. It's not right."

"What can I do about it?" I said, lowly. "We've tried to help him, but there doesn't seem to be anything that we can do…"

Bert gleefully answered that. "I know!" Bert had been thinking of a way to help my father out since his trouble. "I'll put a good word in for him at Willow's Store!"

"That's a good idea, Bert!" Melissa said. "Maybe Mr. Willow will hire your father, Ralph."

"They go a long way back, I sure do hope it works out," I replied.

Bert ended up indeed doing just that. By the middle of April, Mr. Willow had indeed decided to hire my father. Dad ended up taking the job Bert had vacated to practice gigs with the Flying Aces. He began stacking objects on the shelves. Mr. Willow and my dad really did go a long way back-the two of them had gone to elementary and high school together. Mr. Willow had actually been one of the few friends my father had actually had during his school days. Mr. Willow had once told me about some of my dad's misadventures during their school days. "Say, Ralph," he told me one day while I was picking up groceries from his store, "I don't know if you knew this, but your father…used to eat crayons when we were in elementary school together. He used to take them out of the box and eat them one by one. It's a good thing they were non-toxic, otherwise, well, I don't think you'd be here now!" He laughed. "He doesn't still do that, does he?"

"If he does, I haven't seen him do it, Mr. Willow," I remarked.

Time, however, had not proven to be kind to their childhood friendship. The two had significantly drifted apart, and no sooner had he gotten the job than he immediately started complaining about being overworked.

As for Mike Mulligan, he was still having a hard time dealing with his daughter and myself preparing to get married. I imagined that giving away Melissa at our wedding would be the saddest day of his whole life…well, second saddest, after the day his wife died.

In the meantime, Bert was all gearing up to head off to Vancouver with his band come July. Bert already had planned out what material he wanted on the hopeful Flying Aces' debut album-he was going to record eight songs that I had co-written with him. He promised that he would credit me in the album's credits. Not only that, he promised that I would receive royalty checks from album sales (due to having a composer's credit). While I couldn't say I enjoyed the way he'd dressed up our songs, it would definitely be nice receiving royalties from them. That would definitely help Melissa and I out in our financial situation. Humorously enough, he would be credited by his full name, which not too many people actually knew. Bert's full name was Herbert Alexander Raccoon, but he called himself Bert due to the fact that he hated his full name. A surefire way to put Bert in a bad mood was to call him Herbert. Or even worse, Herb. (He actually wanted to legally change his name to Bert…) Since he had a dearth of original material to record for a full 40 minute LP, Bert was planning to fill out the rest of the record with a handful of covers. I can't even remember which covers he intended for his group to perform. He even had the idea for what he wanted the album cover to look like-he wanted to have it be a rather literal version of his band's name and have himself, Donny, Don, and Clancy pose in old pilot's gear beside a vintage airplane. Bert was definitely ambitious, to say the least.

One day, he actually offered me the opportunity to travel on the road with him as his roadie.

"Why would I want to be your roadie, Bert? I already told you I don't really like to be out on the road all that much…"

Bert answered that. "Don't worry about it, Ralphie boy, it won't be so bad after a while! Besides, you can take Melissa with you. She can, eh-heh, keep you company on the road…"

I frowned. "Bert, I doubt she wants to travel all over the country either."

Bert sighed. "Well, it was at least worth a try…"

Even despite Bert's attempts to get the two of us to join him in the rock and roll lifestyle, we still offered Bert our support. We both wished him the best of luck out there. But as I mentioned, Melissa and I were both a little afraid for Bert-we were both afraid that his possible fame might horribly corrupt him as a person. Bert had always been a good-hearted guy deep down, but there was a good possibility fame would go to his head and he would become completely stuck up and unbearable to meet in person. Plus, there was the possibility he might run into trouble in the city; or that we might never see him again…But who knew with the current music scene? Not to mention, Bert's new bandmate, Don Ringtail, had professional experience in a band that actually had a handful of LPs out (although they were out of print by this time) and he had promised to take Bert under his songwriting wing. Maybe Bert did have a chance after all? I couldn't really say.

Melissa and I had set our wedding date; we'd be getting married on May 12th, a Saturday in that particular year. The date was already rapidly approaching, it would be only a few weeks ago. This would be the biggest day of my life; I could say that for sure.

Mother had already sent out all of our wedding invitations to my family members and some family friends. George would be coming down; he'd said he'd be taking a week off from his new job at a steakhouse in Calgary to come down and visit in time for the wedding. Not to mention, he would be bringing his family with him. Melissa had not had the opportunity to meet them, and she was already looking forward to getting to know them. It'd be quite the family gathering. Aunt Gertie would not be able to attend due to the fact that she had a motorcycle tournament that weekend, but she promised to make up for that by dropping by in the summer. I'd also tried to get Cedric to come, but he was pretty sure due to his college schedule he wouldn't be able to make it down in time. Mom had also invited her only sibling, my uncle, Geoffrey Salmond. Uncle Geoffrey lived in Vancouver and ran a Ford car dealership. He had a son about the same age as Lisa, my only cousin, Cousin Norville. They would both be coming down as well.

However, there was one person I'd hoped would show up most of all. Uncle Rocky (whom had recently retired). He still had not forgiven me for, in his words, "betraying your family heritage", but my mother and I still had hopes that our severed relationship could be patched up. She'd sent him an invitation to the wedding in the hopes that he would come from his home in Victoria and he would reaccept me as his nephew.

Sadly, that wasn't to be. One day not long before the wedding, Mom dropped by the Raccoondominium and brought me the bad news.

"Ralphie, dear, I have some really…unfortunate news for you," she said, sadly.

"What would that be?"

"Ralph, Uncle Rocky sent his invitation back in the mail. It just came back in the mail this morning. He's refused to attend your wedding…" She held up the envelope.

I should have known better. Uncle Rocky was never one to let a grudge go. I had been hoping for far too much.

"What does it say…?" I asked, dreading to read the words that it would contain.

"Well, Ralph, here. See for yourself," she said, handing me the envelope.

I opened up the envelope and indeed, inside, Uncle Rocky had written a letter back to my parents.

"'Dearest Millicent Raccoon and my Imbecile Brother,'" I read. "'Pleasure to hear from you again, glad to know you are well. However, I am confused by your sending of this invitation to one Ralph Raccoon's wedding. You say this character is your son. As far as I'm concerned, you only have one son-and I only have one nephew! And George is already married with children. Therefore, I have no choice but to decline this invitation to some imaginary wedding for your imaginary child. Regards, Roger "Rocky" Raccoon.'" Uncle Rocky had taken his hatred of me to an absolute extreme-not only had he disowned me, it was clear by now he was refusing to acknowledge the fact that I even existed! That made me feel quite sad.

Even despite my Dad's heart attack and his subsequent battle with depression after his operation, he still remained his not-so-bright self at heart. And having a triple bypass operation certainly didn't prevent him from pulling off more of his antics…

---

One day, just a couple weeks before we were married, Melissa and I were coming home to the Raccoondominium from a picnic we'd had together. Much to our surprise, waiting there for us, was my father, sitting down on our couch alongside Bert.

"Dad?" I said, surprised. Dad rarely actually dropped by the Raccoondominium; when he did visit it was usually only for my birthday or some other special occasion (like Melissa and I announcing our engagement).

"Oh, hey there, sonny boy," my dad said, not so enthusiastically.

"What's the matter, Mr. Raccoon?" Melissa asked.

"Your dad's feeling depressed today, Ralph."

"Yeah…" my dad said, frowning. "Mr. Willow's had me work my damn tail off putting up the stupid cereal on the shelves and other junk this week. I'd rather be laying down carpets…"

"Already frustrated with your job? You ought to be glad you at least have a job," Melissa explained. "You're lucky Mr. Willow took pity on you and actually hired you to work at the store. That's much better than being unemployed and having no money for your beloved beer, don't you think?"

"I suppose…" my dad sighed. "But, Mr. Willow's such an ogre…"

"That's why I quit working for him," Bert said. "Besides, with my future music career, I didn't really need the job."

"Good for you," my dad said. He was stuffing peanuts in his face out of a bowl. It seemed Bert had shared them with him. Bert may have had a permanent taste for peanut butter, but that didn't mean he didn't also like the regulation peanuts themselves.

Bert and my father were watching a baseball game on TV. Dad was already down to his last peanut.

He raised it up out of the bowl. "Oh, the last peanut…" he sighed as he glared at it. "So sadly and cruelly separated from its many brothers and sisters when they were devoured. But, it's soon to join its lost brethren. For you see, they'll always be together, as long as forever lasts." That was actually fairly deep-if you really thought about it.

"I've never heard your father say something so profound," Melissa whispered to me, "and to think. It's over a peanut."

"I guess everybody has their philosophical moments now and then," I mused.

Dad reared his head back and opened his mouth. "Well, come to daddy!" he said as he closed his eyes and tossed the peanut towards his mouth.

As expected, the peanut missed his mouth altogether, flew over his head, hit Bert in the head, and went behind our couch.

"Hey, watch it!" Bert shouted as the peanut bounced off his head.

Dad just stayed there in that pose for a few seconds, until he realized something.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room quickly. "Oh dear…something didn't go quite right. Better go look for that peanut, I can't let it go to waste."

With that, Dad got off the couch and started to root around underneath the couch, trying to find his lost peanut.

"Ugh! Mr. Raccoon, you're not going to really try to find that peanut under the couch, are you?" Melissa was rather disgusted by my dad's lack of care for hygiene.

"Melissa, don't you know the rule? There's a rule that says if you can find the food on the floor in less than a minute, it's safe to eat!" My dad believed in a lot of things that were far from true.

"So unhygienic…" Melissa said, shaking her head.

"He's even worse than I am!" Bert said.

"Dad's always ate off the floor…" I added.

Dad suddenly became excited as he grabbed something underneath the couch. "Ah-HA! I've got something, I found my peanut!"

From underneath the couch, my father pulled out one of Bert's Mudman comic books. Bert had evidently lost it and it had ended up underneath the couch.

Instantly my dad looked a bit saddened. "Aw…a comic book? I wanted my peanut…"

"Hey," Bert exclaimed, "that's my lost issue of Mudman! Issue #484-Mudman Vs. The Mosquito. I was wondering where that one got off too!" Bert still read comic books and even frequently purchased them. Though he was starting to grow up and accept more responsibility, he was still immature in more than a few ways.

"Mudman?" Dad instantly became excited. "Why, I used to read Mudman comic books all the time when I was just a little kit! He's been around since almost as long as I can remember!"

"Comic books…" Melissa said. "I must confess, I never really had an interest in comic books. I knew someone in high school who had several thousand of them, though…"

I chuckled. "Sounds like quite the guy…"

"Nah, not really. He was…kind of creepy, if you know what I mean."

"Ah."

Dad quickly skimmed through the comic book. He wasn't very impressed by what he read.

"Bah, too much drama. What is this, a comic book about the planet Corny? Mudman's changed from when I was a kid…"

Bert responded excitedly, "Yes, but for the better! They added more drama to the stories-they're edgy! So much better than that goofy TV show that came on when I was a kid…" Bert was talking about the old Mudman live-action TV show that had come on when we were children. It had been goofy and campy as could possibly be; Bert blamed this show for completely ruining the critical opinion of Mudman.

"…But I liked that TV show…" my dad said, sadly in response. He really had-he had watched it all the time on our local station. I never thought I'd see a grown man enjoying a children's show.

Melissa chuckled. "Men and their comic books…"

"Hey," I said to her. "I never much cared for them either."

"I can see why. People can get so obsessed with those things."

My dad was now skimming through the send-away offers in the back of the comic. Every one of Bert's comic books had offers to win something; all you had to do was send the offer and the requested money and you would receive your prize in the mail within a couple of weeks. However, most of these offers were horrible, rotten scams. Bert was somewhat gullible, so he often found himself falling victim to them. More than once already I'd seen him complaining about the "cool toy" he'd sent away for being no good and falling apart.

"Hey, maybe they got a good offer in here!" my dad said, giddily.

"What good could possibly come from a comic book?" Melissa said aloud.

"Seeing what Bert's gotten from these things, not very much, I'd say," I chuckled.

"Ah, c'mon Ralph," Bert said, frowning. "They've often got some pretty cool stuff in here!"

"Yeah, and what does it do? Backfire on you."

"Only some of the time, Ralphie boy!" Bert said, proudly.

"Huh. Seems more often than that," Melissa mused.

Dad shushed us.

"SHH! Quiet, all of you! I'm trying to see what they've got in here! Hmm…toy train for seven dollars. Nah. Too lame. Hypnosis wheel, send only ten dollars…when am I ever going to need one of those? Ah! This one seems promising." He began reading the particular offer aloud. "'Colonel Jethro Smith's Genuine Treasure Maps'. Uncover wealth and riches beyond your wildest dream in your very own backyard! Send us this offer and a dollar and fifty cents and we'll send you your own personalized treasure map to help you uncover your well-deserved fortune!" Dad instantly became intrigued. "Mmm," he said to himself. "Hidden treasure…OOH! In my own backyard! Wow! I never thought there was hidden treasure anywhere 'round this old forest! What an opportunity!"

I wasn't anywhere as enthusiastic as Dad was about this. Knowing the track record of these, this one just had to be a scam to con unsuspecting people out of their money. And Dad would definitely be gullible and naïve enough to believe this-he believed nearly anything.

"I'll say!" Bert was excited too. "It could be quite the adventure. Searching for buried treasure! It'd all be worth it."

"You said it, Bert," my dad grinned dopily. "Why, once I find that treasure, I'll be able to sell it for millions of dollars! I won't ever have to work hard labor anymore-I'll be living on easy street!"

I shook my head. "Dad, I'm pretty sure that this is all too good to be true…"

Dad laughed. "Haha, no way, boy! It can't possibly. Only a dollar-fifty in return for millions? How can I possibly lose?" That had to be one of the dumbest things I had ever heard him say.

"I don't know about that, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa said cautiously. "You'd be surprised…"

"Melissa and I just think this might be some kind of scam, is all, Dad. It might not be a very good idea to send that away," I added.

"Pah, a scam? No way, son!" He laughed rather heartily. "Besides, once I get all that money, I'll do the only honorable thing and divide it up among my family. Everyone's gonna get a little bit of the pot. George, his family, my siblings, my wife, even you two!"

"See, your dad is quite the generous man!" Bert chuckled.

"Think about it son, with the money you'll get, you could pay to have Melissa fixed up!" he laughed.

Melissa looked quite insulted by that.

"Are you saying I'm ugly, Mr. Raccoon?" she growled at him.

"I'm not quite saying that, but hey! My boy here could afford pay to have you look like one of those models in the magazines!" Dad grinned, naughtily.

I sighed. "Oh, brother…"

"Mr. Raccoon…" Melissa glared at him.

"What, isn't every young boy's dream to grow up and marry a model?" Dad asked openly.

"It was mine for sure!" Bert piped up.

"Not this boy," I said firmly. "Melissa's fine to me just the way she is. She might have her flaws, but I love her the way she is. Why would I want to change the way she looks?"

"…Huh." Dad just looked confused.

"Thanks, Ralph," Melissa smiled. "Really, I like the way I look. There's no way I'm going under the knife anytime soon."

"Bah, you two have no sense of imagination," Dad grunted. "If I had that kind of money, one of the first things I'd do is use the money to pay those quacks the money to fix up Millie! She can look young again."

"Wow…" Melissa said, taken aback by my dad's completely idiotic statement. "Are you saying you think your wife is ugly?"

"Heh, heh, no…" Dad said, nervously.

"Well, that's what it sounded like…"

"Hey, what would you guys do with a million dollars, anyway?" Bert asked rhetorically.

"Me?" I responded, "Well, I'd put it away in savings and use it when I felt I needed it most. No need to use that kind of money right away. What about you, sweetie?" I looked to Melissa.

"Well, I'd donate it to charity. Maybe to the local orphanage. They could stand to be happy, you know. So, what about you Bert?"

Bert laughed. "Use it to finance my music career, of course! We can get better equipment with that kind of money!"

"I'll never get that rocky roll…" Dad said to himself.

"What about you, Dad," I asked of him, "what would you do with that kind of money, supposing that you did somehow obtain that kind of money?"

"What would I do? Mmm…" Dad closed his eyes and started rapidly twiddling his fingers. Whatever he was thinking of, it certainly couldn't be good or even remotely close to practical.

The three of us just stared at him as after a minute or so he began chuckling in a rather creepy tone. "Hee hee hee hee, hee hee hee hee!"

"Uh, Ralph? Your dad's starting to scare me…" Melissa said, looking more than a little concerned.

"He scares me all the time, this isn't new," I added.

"Say, Mr. Raccoon, you never told us what you would do with that money," Bert said, tapping him on the shoulder.

Instantly, Dad snapped out of his trance. "Ah, ah! Sorry, sorry. Got lost in thought there. Well, I suppose I'd have my body covered up in jewels and diamonds of all sorts. Oh, and gold-plated too. Then I'll be the richest man in the world. They'll have no choice but to crown me Emperor of Canada!" Dad laughed heartily to himself.

Melissa frowned. "Keep dreaming, Mr. Raccoon…"

"Ah, well, anyways, I think I better get going. I gotta mail this ad in for my treasure map so I can find the lost treasure."

As he left, I groaned. "I really hope he does forget about that…"

"I doubt he'll send it. I hope he doesn't," Melissa agreed.

"Still, it would be pretty neat to find hidden treasure, wouldn't it?"

"If you say so, Bert."

---

A couple more weeks passed and now it was the Wednesday before our wedding. Melissa had already had her bridal shower and tonight would be a big night. George would be arriving from Calgary tonight with Nicole and the kids. Melissa, as I mentioned, was rather eager to meet her new in-laws. Dad was also looking forward to it as well; it'd been quite some time since George had come down. Dad hadn't seen Lisa and Bentley in almost four years, so he was anxious to see his grandchildren again. Bentley had been just a baby kit then, and as thus, today would be the first time he'd actually really get to meet his grandfather and grandmother. Myself, I hadn't actually been to see George since I had visited him back in 1981. Poor George had a hard time of it getting along with his bosses. This time, he hoped it wouldn't happen again. He couldn't afford to get fired; he'd already moved eleven times in 20 years and did not want to make it to fifteen. I hoped everything would work out for him.

Today was a fairly normal day so far. I had come home from college and was working on my assignment for the Evergreen University Chronicle. Bert wasn't here, but to me that wasn't too much a surprise as he was probably doing something with his band. As for Melissa, she was at her father's place, presumably going over the planning for the event. I realized that with graduation approaching, this would be one of my last articles for the Chronicle. Steve and Nestor, my fellow aspiring journalists, were also graduating this year. Unlike me, neither of them planned to stay here in the forest. Steve planned to head to Toronto to work for a magazine while Nestor was moving state-side to Hollywood to work on his true dream, becoming an entertainment tabloid columnist. I couldn't really see why that was actually news (personally, I didn't honestly care what big-name celebrities did in their free time!), but I was glad for him since he was going to get to live his dream. Still, in a way, it was sad to see more of the Forest's inhabitants leaving; we always seemed to be losing more people than we gained. As for myself, I'd attempted to apply to at least three newspapers in British Columbian cities around the local area; and I'd already received three rejection letters saying that basically they thanked me for my application letter, but that I was not really what they were interested in. Truthfully, I didn't want to leave the Forest, but if I did find a good job offer at a paper around our province, Melissa and I would definitely move. And eventually, we almost did. But I think you know that story already. But, this did show how much I'd changed over the years. Had this been a couple years previously, I would have been disheartened about being rejected several times already and probably given up on trying to write professionally. Now, I felt confident that sooner or later, I'd be accepted by one eventually if I kept trying.

I was in the middle of furiously typing away, when presently, there came a knock upon the door.

"Hold on a minute, I'll get it!" I shouted as I raced for the door.

I was quite surprised by who was standing there.

"Cedric?" What was he doing here? "Why are you here? I thought you were supposed to be at UBC?"

"Oh, hi, Ralph!" Cedric smiled. "I managed to get a few days out from college. I couldn't miss one of my oldest friend's wedding for anything in the world!"

"Does Cyril know about this?" I didn't think his Pop would approve of Cedric taking time out from college to come down here for my wedding-considering Cyril strongly disliked me.

"Heh, heh, no. It's sort of a secret between me and Bert. I'm going to be staying here at the Raccoondominium until right after the wedding." That would make sense, it would explain why Bert told me there would be some kind of surprise.

"Ah, well, do come in, Cedric." We sat down on the couch beside each other and chatted.

"So how are things back at UBC, Cedric?" I asked him.

"They're going great, Ralph. I've been involved in quite a few activities there; I'm the leader of a couple of clubs, actually!"

"Wow. A club leader. That's quite impressive, Cedric. That'll look good on your resume, no doubt!"

Cedric laughed. "Ralph, I'm going to work with my Pop full-time once I do graduate. Pop'll be impressed with my resume no matter what I do. He's always been proud of me!"

"Ah, I honestly forgot about that…" I could still be quite forgetful about some things, I really had forgotten that he was planning to work with Cyril full-time.

"It's no problem. So, Ralph, congratulations on your upcoming marriage! Are you excited about that?" Cedric asked.

"You bet I am, Cedric. It's going to be the biggest day of my life. I wish it would hurry up and get here already."

Cedric chuckled to himself. "You know, it's funny, Ralph…"

I was confused. "What's so funny?"

Cedric answered, "Back in high school you never thought you'd ever get a girlfriend. You thought you'd always be alone."

"So I did…" Things might have been looking up big-time, but I still didn't like to talk about those days very much.

"Now look at you, Ralph. Not only were you the first one out of all us to actually have a steady relationship, you're the first one of us to get married!"

"I know…" I said. It was really amazing how time did change things.

"I told you someday all that hard work would pay dividends for you, Ralph!"

"And all it took was for me to believe in myself." I smiled. "So, Cedric," I changed the subject, "George and his family are coming down tonight for the wedding. Tomorrow they are planning to have a large family barbeque. Will you be attending that?"

Cedric shook his head. "No, Ralph. Bert and I are planning to go down to our old fishing hole to try to catch Old Tom. This might be the last chance we get to try to catch him together before Bert leaves for the city and his music career. For, you know, we might never see him again." I sighed, that was a distinct possibility. This might be the last time Cedric and Bert saw each other in person, they had to make the most of it. We'd tried to catch Old Tom every summer since we were young children, but not once had we succeeded. Maybe this year Bert and Cedric would finally catch him.

"I understand, Cedric."

At that moment, another knock came at the door.

"Hold it right there, Cedric. I'll go get that."

It was none other than my mother. And she looked visibly concerned.

"Mom? What's the matter? What are you doing here?" I was a little bit confused.

"Ralphie dear, it's your father. He's gone missing." Great. Dad had run off somewhere and now we would probably have to track him down. "I went to run a few errands about town and discuss the wedding plans with Mike and Melissa. But when I got back, your father was gone. He was supposed to be home from work today...Cedric? What are you doing here?" My mother was a little surprised to see Cedric here; she also knew he went to college far away.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Raccoon," Cedric replied. I've come down to see your son's wedding. It was a surprise. I see you're having a family crisis?"

"Yes, Cedric. I'm quite worried…"

"Huh," I said, a little confused. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Well, I found this letter on our dining room table when I got home," Mom replied.

"May I see it, Mom?" I asked her.

"Sure, Ralphie. Here you go." She handed me the letter. Before me was some of the ugliest handwriting I'd ever seen and several things crossed out on it.

I read from it. "Deer Millie, Bert and I have-gone to Freen's Peek to find the hiden treasur." Sure enough, it had been written by Dad. Unlike me, Dad was a horrendous speller. That part had been crossed out and below it, the letter said, "floo into spac to go meatyor huntin." That too was crossed out, and below that, it said, "turned invisable, but weer right hear anyways." That was also crossed out, and last but not least, not crossed out, it said, "went fishin'. Yor Luven Husbend, Arthur Racoon."

I slapped myself in the face. "Oh no," I said to myself. "He didn't." I knew exactly what Dad and Bert had done. I had hoped Dad would forget all about that offer in the comic book. It turned out, he hadn't…

"Your father and Bert went to Freen's Peak?" Cedric asked curiously.

"Oh, I can't believe him!" My mother was upset.

"I can't believe it either. He really did send that Colonel Jethro Smith offer in. Good grief...I guess we're going to have to get him and Bert down from up there before they really get into trouble." I was not looking forward to climbing Freen's Peak to try to get the both of them down before they killed themselves searching for fictitious treasure. I was most concerned about my father; his heart not being so good now, it certainly could not be good for him to be climbing a mountain for treasure.

"I can't go get him," my mother said, sadly. "I'm not a good climber. Ralph, Cedric, you'll go bring them back, right?"

Cedric nodded his head. "We'll do that, Mrs. Raccoon. Come on Ralph, we may as well go right now."

I sighed. "I guess we'll miss George and the kids then…"

My mother called after us. "Take Melissa with you," she said.

"We'll go get her too, Mom, don't worry," I replied.

Soon, Cedric and I reached the Mulligan residence. Melissa was in the front garden, plucking a turnip from the ground.

"Oh, hi, honey," she smiled. "I was just planting crops one last time…once we move into the Raccoondominium together, I'll set up our own garden." She then noticed Cedric. "Cedric…? What are you doing here?"

"Melissa, we have no time to explain," I said urgently.

"What's the matter?"

"It's Dad."

"Mr. Raccoon and Bert have gone up Freen's Peak looking for hidden treasure. We need to get them down before they get into trouble," Cedric quickly explained.

"Oh, goodness," Melissa grimaced, shaking her head. "No offense, Ralph, really, but your father is definitely not the sharpest tack in the box, if you know what I mean."

"I had to live with him for nearly twenty years, I would know that first-hand," I laughed.

"Seriously, I wonder sometimes how your mother ever managed to put up with him for almost forty years. I would never be able to do that," Melissa chuckled.

"Well, Mom says Dad's…stupidity can be endearing…in certain occasions…"

"We've no time to waste," Cedric said, looking to both of us. "Let's get them down now before anything bad happens."

"Right behind you, Cedric," Melissa said as the three of us headed for Freen's Peak.

It would take about two hours, but at last, we managed to reach the summit of Freen's Peak.

Sure enough, there was my father. Sitting on top of a rock, moping. Bert was standing off to the side, holding a shovel.

"Dammit!" Dad growled, looking towards Bert. "There isn't any treasure up here, Bert?"

"It doesn't seem so," Bert said, sadly as he threw his shovel down. He came to sit beside my father.

Dad took the map and angrily crumpled it up into a ball. "Well, goddammit! I've been ripped off! Those bastards promised me there'd be treasure right up here! 'X marks the spot!' Well, there's no damn treasure here! I ought to sue those assholes for false advertisement!"

I shouted out at him. "DAD!"

Dad looked up at the three of us.

"Boy? Melissa? Junior Vacuum?" Junior Vacuum was what my dad had always called Cedric. "Heheh, so nice to see you! Bert and I were just, uh…having a good time looking at nature from up here! Yeah, that's it! Heheh!"

"No need to lie to us, Mr. Raccoon. We know exactly what you and Bert have been up to," Melissa glared at him.

"Bert, how could you and Mr. Raccoon fall for this? I thought you knew better than to help him with these crazy schemes of his, you're bound to end up hurt!" Cedric was disappointed in Bert.

"I thought Mr. Raccoon would need help finding treasure…" he said, ashamedly. He couldn't believe he'd fallen for this.

"Well," I shouted at him, "you two have only yourselves to blame for this."

"I can't believe they ripped me off…" Dad growled.

"No time to argue about that," Melissa said to him. "We need to get you two back home. I imagine your wife is going to have some pretty stern words for you, Mr. Raccoon."

"B-b-but I was only trying to-" he spluttered, pathetically.

"No buts, Dad," I said. "Let's get going."

"But…but…it's such a long walk…I'm exhausted! I can't make it back…"

"Not to worry, Mr. Raccoon," Cedric said, "we'll help you down."

---

It was later that evening. Cedric and Bert were staying at the Raccoondominium together while Melissa and I were at my parents' place. Dad had needed considerable help getting down from Freen's Peak. As expected, Mom had given him quite a tongue lashing for going off to try to find buried treasure without telling her beforehand. We'd had dinner by now and we were waiting for George and Nicole to arrive from Calgary with the kids.

"They should be here any minute," I said, glancing at the clock. It was nearly 8:30 P. M.

"Boy, I can't wait 'till George gets here," Dad said, excitedly. "It's been ages since I've seen that boy. Can't wait until he bakes one of those pies for me again! Mmm…pie…" Dad started drooling, and then wiped his chin off. "Damn, I'm proud of that boy." It was no secret that although my Dad loved both of us, he definitely preferred George over myself. It certainly didn't hurt that George was a chef-Dad, being the heavy eater he always had been, was extremely proud to say he had fathered a chef.

"I can't wait to meet them, honey," Melissa smiled at me. "My new in-laws. I do wonder what they're like?"

"Well, George is an alright guy. He used to be a lot more like Bert when he was younger, but he kind of had to grow up," I chuckled. "As for Nicole, I don't know her the best, but she's pretty nice."

"Oh yeah, George's wife," my dad said absentmindedly. "She's German isn't she?"

Mother quickly corrected him. "No, dear. Nicole is French."

Dad looked shocked by those words. "What? Those surrender-monkeys live up here in Canada? When did this happen?" Dad did not know a whole lot about his own country.

"Mr. Raccoon, does the word 'Quebec' mean anything to you?" Melissa asked of him.

"Hmm. Oh yeah, that's right. Sorry, my brain's not too good…"

"Figured as much…" I mused to myself.

"Well, I really can't wait to see my grandkids. Been ages since I've seen them! D'ya think Lisa'll still like horseback riding?" The last time George and his family'd come to visit, Lisa had been only seven and Dad had frequently tried to entertain her by allowing her to ride on his back as if he was a thoroughbred horse. It'd been…quite embarrassing a sight, Dad ended up tearing up a lot of our furniture.

"She's eleven now," I explained. "I think she might be a little bit too old for that by now."

"Aww…but I was looking forward to that…Well, do you think she and my grandson will remember me? Whatever his name is?" Dad had honestly forgotten Bentley's name.

"His name's Bentley, dear," my mother explained.

"Bentley? Why the hell did George name his boy after a car?" Dad looked taken aback.

"He's not named after the car company," Mom explained. "He's named for my grandfather, Bentley Salmond."

Dad still didn't quite get it. "I still don't understand why anyone would name their kid Bentley…"

"Never mind," I said, realizing he'd never get it.

"Boy, I can't wait 'til that kid turns fifteen. When he turns fifteen, I'm gonna show him all the fun beer games I used to play when I was fifteen." I was a bit surprised: Dad already was planning to introduce Bentley to beer!

"Why would you do that?" Melissa asked.

"Well, it seems that the love for beer skipped a generation." I knew he was referring to George and myself, I had not been interested in learning these "beer games", and George hadn't either. George did have a few every now and then, but he and I were far from alcoholics, while my Dad…definitely straddled the line of being one. "So, maybe he'll be interested!"

"I don't know about that…"I said to myself.

"Art, you're not giving Bentley beer. He's not even six years old yet! You give him beer at that age, who knows what it'll do to him…"

At that moment, we heard a radio blaring outside of my parents' tree and a car horn honking several times.

"Ah, that must be them!" I replied.

"Oh boy!" Dad grinned as he clenched his paws together. "Pies, coming my way!"

"We'll go get that," Melissa said as she and I opened the door and headed out into the twilight sky.

Sure enough, George's Gremlin greeted us there, the headlights shining brightly. I barely suppressed laughter-he still had the Gremlin! He actually ended up keeping that thing until it finally completely broke down altogether (which was about three or four years ago). George and Nicole were seated in the front seats while Lisa and Bentley were crammed in the back (it was a tight fit). George was tapping his finger on the steering wheel along to the song playing on the radio station while Nicole nodded her head along to it. Lisa and Bentley grimaced as George began air-guitaring along to the song's guitar solo.

"Dad!" I heard Lisa shout. "We're already here, please, turn the dinosaur music off!"

"Yes, father," Bentley added, "enough of that."

"But kids," George said. "This is your dad's favorite song! I don't want to leave until I hear the whole thing!"

"Ugh!" Lisa groaned.

George finished air-guitaring and began singing along. Melissa couldn't help but chuckle.

"Bein' drunk and weary

I went to my Molly's chamber

Takin' my Molly with me

But I never knew the danger!

For about six, or maybe seven

In walked Captain Ferrell

I jumped up; fired off my pistols

And I shot him with both barrels!"

I figured I'd best get George's attention and save the kids the headache of listening to this song. (It wasn't an awful song, but they clearly didn't like it, so it was for the best.)

I tapped on the hood of the Gremlin.

"Oh, there you are!" George exclaimed as he rolled down the window and turned down the radio. "Good to see you, little brother. Goodness. It has been way too long since we've last seen each other, hasn't it?"

"Well, I'll say. It's been…how long…three years, almost?" It really had been too long since we'd seen each other.

"Thank goodness, Uncle Ralph!" Lisa was quite relieved that her father had turned the radio way down. "I've had to listen to this ancient garbage nearly the whole way here!"

"Liza," Nicole scolded. "Your father's muzic iz not garbage."

"Yes it is, Mom! Why couldn't he listen to something good, like Owlivia Newton-John?"

"Ugh…" George cringed.

Melissa laughed. "I see you and your daughter have very different tastes in music."

George sighed. "Very much so. I can't understand today's music trends at all, the music I loved as a kit and through the '60s and '70s is dying out and being replaced with all this…new stuff. That I can't say I like."

"Dad, no offense, but that's because your music is old. It isn't cool anymore, and nobody besides you and Mom even listens to that stuff now. No one will remember in it twenty years!" Lisa was positively ashamed of her father's taste in music. I figured most kids hated their parents' musical tastes and vice versa; and this certainly went a long way towards proving it. George looked pretty saddened hearing those words from his own daughter.

"Liza, thez song iz not that old. It is only az old az you are!" Nicole was disappointed in her daughter's behavior, for sure.

"That's still too old, Mom," Lisa said to herself.

"Older than I am!" Bentley piped in the back seat.

"Well, anyways…" George said, changing the subject. "Great to see you again, Ralph. I do wish we could see each other more often. But, I don't know I can make that happen. But hey, I had to come down here to see my little brother get married! You all came to my wedding, I ought to return the favor!" I remembered George's wedding. It hadn't been…the happiest of weddings. George had been forced into marrying Nicole by her father, Francois, in order to avoid her having an illegitimate child (Lisa). Nicole had been quite visibly pregnant, I remembered. Dad had made an absolute ass out of himself and had gotten himself thrown out of the church as he showed up drunk to the wedding and got into an argument with Francois.

"Who could ever forget that?" I laughed. It was funny now, but back then it was rather horribly embarrassing.

"Oh, I know, I know! Ah, and you," George looked to Melissa, as she smiled at him, "You must be Melissa, the bride-to-be! The little she-devil who stole my brother's heart away! You have to tell me all about it."

"That's me!" She said proudly. "And I will, soon enough. Ralph's told me quite a bit about you. So, you are a chef?"

"I am, but I would not say I'm the best in the world," George sighed. "I've been fired so many times and had to move around so many times as well. I think I've seen almost the whole country by now. I wish I could just work in one restaurant and stick with it…"

"Perhaps you'll have better luck in Calgary?" Melissa asked, hopefully.

"Looks that way so far, but the last time everything looked well I ended up getting laid off to make room for a new employee. I sure hope I can make this last…"

"You know, George, I did suggest you could always be your own boss…" I remarked.

"Hehheh, I've thought about that, little brother, but I'm just not sure. I'm just not sure…" he repeated to himself.

"Well, that's always a good option to keep in mind," Melissa added.

"True, true…Alright kids, let's get on out of the car. I really need a rest after driving all this way…"

Lisa and Bentley got out of the car first.

I noticed at this moment Lisa had really grown since the last time I'd seen her. She was only eleven and she was already almost as tall as Melissa and I were! Then again, the both of us were fairly short, but still, it was quite a surprise.

"Wow, Lisa," I remarked. "Really had a growth spurt there, didn't you?"

"Looks that way, Uncle Ralph," Lisa chuckled. "Guess what?"

"What's that?" I asked of her.

"I made my school's junior girls' basketball team for next year!" She sounded proud.

"Really, that's great, Lisa! How good do you think you are?"

"I think I'll do outstanding, Uncle Ralph! I'm really good at lay-up shots." Lisa was really confident in her abilities.

"Wish you luck, Lisa," Melissa encouraged her. "Oh, I didn't introduce myself to you, did I?"

"I know who you are, you're our new Aunt Melissa. Uncle Ralph sent us a picture of you two last year." I remembered that; George had asked for a photograph of the two of us (as he'd heard so much about her and yet never seen her; he basically wanted proof that she actually existed) and I had sent one of us (taken at the local bowling alley if I remember right) to them. "So," Lisa continued, "you two are getting married?"

"That's right," I declared, proudly.

"That should be exciting; I've never been to a wedding before. I'm apparently supposed to be the flower girl, I wonder what I'm going to do?" Lisa indeed was going to be the flower girl, while young Bentley was going to be the ring bearer.

"We'll have rehearsal," Melissa told her. "You'll see." She then looked to Bentley, who was already fiddling with a calculator. He still didn't have a computer yet, but at this time George had already bought him a calculator and a dictionary.

"So you must be little Bentley," she smiled at him.

Bentley momentarily looked up from his calculator. "Oh, and you are Aunt Melissa. Nice to make your acquaintanceship," he said as he shook her paw and quickly went back to typing in numbers on his calculator.

"Smart kid," Melissa whispered to me.

"Sure would seem that way."

George and Nicole began to exit the Gremlin after a few minutes as well. George looked close to exhausted.

"Tired from that long drive?" Melissa asked curiously.

"Oh, you bet," George sighed as we began heading towards the house. "Almost ten hours on the road…it should be illegal to have to drive that far. I've had to make long drives like these many times andI still haven't gotten used to them."

"A rezt will do some good," Nicole admitted.

I decided to poke fun at George for a little bit. Not mean-spiritedly, mind you, just in good nature.

"You still drive the Gremlin, George?"

"Oh, please," he said, a bit annoyed by that. "I'm getting really, really tired of everybody calling my car a piece of junk."

"My dad had one when I was in high school," Melissa added (I honestly did not know this), "and it was a really bad car. It broke down after just over a year. He sold it."

"Well, I don't get all the bad press this car gets," George responded, "what gives people the right to criticize the car if they haven't owned one? They wouldn't understand until they've gotten to drive one."

"George, I think you love your car a little too much sometimez…" Nicole said, shaking her head.

"Best car I ever owned," he said to himself.

I laughed. "Better than the Bus!" It was true: George had once owned a Volkswagen Bus in the late '60s. You see, while I might have been something of a hippie at heart, George had been the authentic deal, he had been a real late '60s hippie. I still remember when he came home to visit in 1969; he came home driving the bus, wearing the traditional headband, a vest, a peace necklace, and he'd even tye-died up his tail. He looked absolutely ridiculous looking back at it now. Sure, I might have been able to sympathize with their causes, but that didn't mean I wanted to adopt their styles and mannerisms!

"Ugh, must you keep reminding me of that?" he groaned.

"You were a hippie, huh?" Melissa asked.

George nodded. "Old shame," he admitted.

Dad was waiting at the door for us.

"If it isn't old George! My God, it's been ages since I've seen ya, boy!" He put George in a headlock and rubbed his knuckle atop George's head. (This was his trademark way of greeting close family). "How the hell have you been, George?"

"Ah, I've been fine, Dad. Getting back on my feet now in Calgary. I think you heard that?"

Dad looked confused. "Calgary? Where's that? Is that by Charlottetown?" I have no idea why Dad seemed to like Charlottetown so much, but he evidently believed it was our nation's capital and constantly referred to it.

"No, Dad. It's only a province over in Alberta. But it was a loooonnng drive, let me tell you. Boy, I need to sit down…So, Ralph told me you had a heart attack a few months ago. Are you doing alright?"

"I suppose so…but I lost my job. And now I have to work for Mr. Willow…grr, stupid Mr. Willow…"

George replied, "Well, any job's better than no job!"

Dad looked to Nicole. "Ah, I see ya brought your wife with you, good to see you, uh, uh, uh, what's your name again?" Dad always seemed to forget Nicole's name. He frequently forgot a lot of things.

Nicole frowned. "Nicole," she sighed. I knew for a fact that Nicole had never liked my father; it had all stemmed back to when she first met him, at her wedding. His atrocious behavior had definitely not endeared him to her.

"Ah, ah, sorry, sorry. I keep forgetting that. Good to see ya too."

Nicole sighed as she and George went into the house with their belongings they'd brought with them. I heard her mutter to herself, "Not so good to zee thez imbecile…"

My dad was excited to see Lisa and Bentley. "Lisa, my granddaughter!" he said as he stooped down to hug her. "My goodness, you have grown! Damn, I almost didn't recognize you at first!"

"It's good to see you, Grandpa. Feels like it's been ages!" Lisa laughed.

"Sure has. Say, are ya up for a horseback ride?" Dad asked. He still hoped Lisa would still enjoy the idea of riding on his back like he was a racehorse.

Lisa laughed. "Oh, no, Grandpa. I'm too big for that now, sorry."

Dad looked sad. "Oh…'

Then he greeted Bentley. "Bentley, my little grandson! Good gravy, last time I saw you you were wearing diapers!" He scooped Bentley up and hugged him.

Bentley looked a little surprised, but grinned anyways. "Ah, nice meeting you, Grandpa Arthur. I have heard a lot about you from Mom. Most of it not being very flattering at all…"

That was news to my dad. As he placed Bentley back down, he asked him, "What kinds of things?"

"That you were a simpleton, an idiotic man-child, and had too many screws loose," Bentley said calmly.

"…Smart kid…" Dad said to himself. He instantly frowned. "Thanks, Bentley. I needed to hear that…" he sighed.

"You're welcome, Grandpa," Bentley said.

---

The next day, it was the big family barbeque. George had grilled up a ton of barbeque for everybody.

Mom was busy talking with Melissa and Nicole, probably about some last minute plans for the wedding. Lisa was talking with Cousin Norville, who had come down in the morning with his father, Uncle Geoffrey. (It was kind of funny Norville was Lisa's uncle, considering he was about the same age as her!) Uncle Geoffrey was chatting with George as he finished grilling the last batch of barbeque. And my Dad? Well, he was busy trying to show Bentley something...

"So, Bentley," Dad asked him, while Bentley was still busy typing away at his calculator.

"Yes, Grandpa?" Bentley said, not even looking up from the calculator at Dad.

"Look at this." Dad held up a beer can in front of Bentley. "Do you see this?"

"Yes, I see it," Bentley said, a little annoyed. "What about it?"

"This is called beer. Do you know what beer is, grandson?" Dad was already trying to introduce Bentley to beer, like he said he'd do last night.

"Yes, I know what beer is, Grandpa. I heard beer is very bad for you and causes damage to your liver. I don't want any of it." Bentley went back to typing.

Dad looked shocked.

"Jumping Jiminy Crickets!" he exclaimed. "The kid is only five years old and already he thinks beer is bad for you! My God, what the hell has our country come to? Our government's brainwashing kids into thinking beer is bad! AAAAAAUGGGHHH!" Dad screamed.

Nicole saw this out the corner of her eye. "I will never, ever underztand how you put up with him, Mrs. Raccoon…"

Mom sighed. "It takes a lot of patience, let me tell you…"

Melissa laughed. "More patience than most people have!"

Dad then proceeded to wonder aloud. "Say, where are Bert and Junior Vacuum? Weren't they supposed to be here?"

George looked curious as well. "I noticed. Where are Bert and Cedric? It's been ages since I've seen the two of them, I was looking forward to talking to them again…"

Melissa fielded the answer to that one. "Bert and Cedric are off today fishing for Old Tom. You see, Bert's leaving for the city in a little over a month and this'll probably be the last chance the two of them have to spend friendly time together."

"He iz going to be a profezzional musician, izn't he?" Nicole asked.

"That's his plan," I responded.

At this moment, George sat down beside me and struck up a conversation with me.

"If I haven't said this already, congratulations, Ralph," he said. "I know you've probably gotten a lot of those, anyways…"

"Well, of course I have," I chuckled. "But thanks, George. This is…well, this is definitely the biggest moment of my life so far."

"Well, the only thing bigger than that is the birth of your children, I think. Speaking of which, you two are planning on having kids, right?"

I had already discussed that with Melissa. That had actually been one of the first things we'd discussed about our future lives together.

"Someday, perhaps…" I admitted. "But, now? I don't think I'm quite ready to handle children. Being married is a big enough responsibility enough, I'm not really prepared to handle having kids on top of that yet. That's an even bigger responsibility."

"Don't I know it!" We both laughed. "Seriously, though, you're right there, Ralph. Maybe it is best if you wait a while. Hey. At least you were smart enough to not knock her up before you got married. What do you know-you really are smarter than me!"

"Well, I kind of couldn't do anything with her…" I admitted. "Her Dad said he'd pull my spine out if he found out we'd done it before we got married." Which was true-Mike had warned me about that countless times. He really and truly was determined Melissa did not make the same mistake her mother had. (He-and for that matter, I myself-didn't even know that she'd lost it to Troy Malone…)

"Hah, one of those fathers, right?" George laughed. Francois had been like that-he'd threatened to kill George for getting Nicole pregnant and had forced him into marrying her. Poor George.

"He's alright. A really lonely man though. You see, his wife died over twenty years ago, and ever since then he's been miserably depressed…"

"Ah, sounds like a lonely guy, indeed," George mused. "Well, anyways, like I said, good on you Ralph. You were smart enough not to knock her up first. You're marrying her of your own accord. I wish I'd have done that. But we both figured 'what are the odds of pregnancy resulting from this? Low enough to not be a concern.' Not very smart of us. I mean, I would have married her anyways, eventually, but I didn't want to get married or be a father that damn soon." It seemed a lot of the people in my family or close to my family had made a lot of mistakes, George was still a little shamed he'd done that.

"At least you were able to accept responsibility for that," I replied. Something seemed odd. Where was Mike? We'd invited him to this barbeque, and yet he hadn't even showed up. This was supposed to be an opportunity for him to meet some of his in-laws; the new family he had ties to. So where the hell was he?

"Melissa," I asked, "have you seen your father? It seems pretty strange he hasn't showed up yet…"

Melissa shrugged. "Sorry, honey. I haven't seen him all day today. I don't know where he could be."

George spoke to me again. "Say, Ralph. Nicole and I've been discussing something over the past few months. It concerns little Bentley."

I was curious. "What could be the problem with him? Other than the fact, that well, he seems to be awfully engrossed with that calculator…"

George chuckled. "No, no, Ralph, Bentley's not having any problems. Remember the last time you came to visit me? When I lived in Ottawa? I still can't believe I got fired from that job-they kept Freddie Crawford longer than they did me! And that guy blew up the chicken in the stove!"

"Not extremely well," I admitted, "but yes. That was before Melissa and I were even dating."

"You remember you and Bentley had a lot of fun playing together, don't you?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I do."

"Well, Nicole and I have been doing some discussing, and we've decided that starting next year, we're going to send him here to the Forest for a few weeks to stay with you. We haven't told him about it yet, but the both of us think it'd be a good opportunity for you two to bond, uncle to nephew."

"Huh, that should be an interesting experience…" I mused. I glanced over at Bentley, Dad was still trying to get Bentley to play with him. He wasn't getting anywhere, though, as Bentley was ignoring him and still busy fidgeting with his calculator.

"Hey, think about it Ralph. Not only that, it could be a good opportunity for you and Melissa. You know, to see how well you two do with looking after a kid. Who knows? If you two think you do a good enough job, it might influence you two, you know, to think about having children of your own." George did have a point; that would probably be a good way of determining whether the two of us would be able to handle the responsibility of having kids. Still, I wasn't too sure that kids were right for me…

"Well, we'll see, George. I just don't know if kids are something I could take care of, you know."

"Ah, I understand. Still, it'll be a good experience for the two of you, I believe. Oh, one more thing, Ralph. Bentley's birthday's coming up soon. July 20th, he'll be six years old. Nicole and I have a very special birthday present planned for his birthday." I wondered what they would buy him.

"What would that be, George?" I asked.

"Shh," George said, whispering to me, "don't let Bentley find out about this ahead of time, but we're buying him a computer for his birthday."

"A computer?" I was a little surprised. I didn't even know they had computers available for the home market. "How much money is that going to put you in the hole, George?" As far as I knew, the only computers around were massive and took up an entire room.

"Quite a bit, I'd say. But that's what he asked us for, and it's what we're going to get him. My co-worker, Fayne Stewart, bought one of them for his son earlier this year, and that's what got Bentley interested in getting one for himself. Bentley's already pretty fascinated by technology, but as for me? I don't think I really understand this modern technology. Boy, Ralph, the times, they really ARE a-changin'. That song still rings true today!"

I had to agree with him on that. "I don't really get a lot of this new technology either. But how on earth are you going to be able to fit a computer in your house, George? Those things take up whole rooms, you know…"

George laughed. "I thought that too, for the longest time, but you see, they're making them a lot smaller now. They actually are making them for the home market now. They're not too big, small enough to easily fit in a home now. I know, Fayne took me to the local store that's selling them. They're not much bigger than our own heads."

"Hmm…" I mused. "Technology still marches on…"

"Oh, I know, that, but you know what? The guy running that store's a bit of a kook, if you know what I mean. He said one day, there will be a computer in every home and everyone will spend a lot of time using one."

I had to laugh at that, it didn't seem to me like there was a whole lot of reason to have one. "That's a good one, I don't really see how they're practical at all."

"But you know what the funniest thing is?" George quipped. "The guy said that one day computers will replace books and typewriters! He said in twenty years, nobody will have a typewriter anymore, they'll be using a computer. Can you believe that?"

I had a good laugh at that. "That'll be the day. I don't see that ever happening, I'm sure people will stick to the good old typewriter for decades to come." It was funny then, but looking at how things are turning out now, it looks like it's beginning to come true. At this rate, it won't be much longer before I have to part with the typewriter Melissa bought me for my birthday…

At that moment, none other than Mike Mulligan showed up.

"Dad!" Melissa exclaimed. "Where have you been? We were waiting for you to show up! I think you missed out on the barbeque, though," she chuckled.

"Sorry, sweetheart, Daddy had to do some errands around town. I lost track of the time."

Dad shouted gleefully to Mike, "Hey, Mike! Why don't ya step up and meet the rest of your new family?"

Uncle Geoffrey introduced himself to Mike. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mulligan. I am Geoffrey Salmond, Millicent Raccoon's brother. And this is my son, Norville." Norville waved to Geoffrey.

"Hello," he said.

"Nice to meet the both of ya," Mike said as he took a drawl off of his Manitoba brand cigarette (which was the official brand of our Mounties).

George stood up to speak to Mike. "You are the bride's father?"

"Yep, that's me," Mike said, unenthusiastically.

"Funny. I would have guessed by looking at you that you were her grandfather."

"Good God, I have aged that badly," Mike sighed. "I'm only forty-five!"

"Only forty-five? Wow. You're only a few years older than I am, and yet you look like you're older than my own father," George said, a little surprised. "Say, what happened to your eye?" George had taken notice of Mike's eyepatch.

Melissa answered that. "It's a bit of a long story, I'm sure he can share it with you later."

Mike asked George, "So, who are ya? Are you another one of Ralph's uncles?"

George laughed. "Uncle? Nah! I'm his brother, George!"

Mike rubbed his chin. "Hmm…Kid," he said, looking to me, "you never told me you had a brother."

"I didn't…" I realized I hadn't. "Well, you know him now."

"Well, as I was saying, I'm George and this is my wife, Nicole." Nicole then introduced herself.

"Bonjour, Mike. I am Nicole Raccoon, it iz a pleazure to welcome you to our extended family."

Mike took notice of her accent. "Ah, nice to meet the both of you. Say, by any chance, you from Quebec?"

Nicole laughed. "Oui, from Montreal. It iz really that obvious?"

"Well, yes. I knew a guy from Montreal back when I lived in Prince Rupert who used to come to my bar-I'm a bartender, you see. Wasn't the nicest guy I knew, he used to steal from my bar. Montreal's a far cry from Kentucky, though. Down there we had the Stars and Bars."

"You are from Kentucky?" Nicole asked. "That'z a long way away from here."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know what's funny? I've never actually been to the US," George answered. "It's funny, I've been all over this country, and yet I've never been state-side. The only time I've left this country was to visit Canterbury in England."

"I remember that, Dad," Lisa spoke up. "Well, not really well, I was only…how old was I then?"

"I think maybe four," George said, not honestly remembering.

"So," I asked Mike. "What do you think of the family?"

"Hmm. Seem to be an interesting bunch of folks."

"So, anyways, Mike," George asked. "What made you come up here to Canada from Kentucky? Job opportunities?"

"Not quite," Mike admitted.

"I'll answer that," I spoke up. "Mike fled here in the late 1960s to dodge the Vietnam War draft."

"Yes," Melissa added. "Uprooted me from my childhood home. I can't really remember much of Kentucky, though…"

"Well…" George looked a bit surprised by that. "…I guess it's a good thing I'm not from America. If I were, no doubt they'd have drafted me as well. I might not even be here right now."

"I don't see no reason why we had to fight in Vietnam. That was a pointless war and we killed many of our boys down there. My own brother got killed there. Came back home headless in a box. Powerful stuff, seeing that." Mike had a hard time talking about Scott, his only sibling.

"I can't necessarily zay I blame you for running away," Nicole admitted. "Otherwize you might have been killed."

"Never goin' back either. This is my home now. Oh yeah, Ralph, Melissa, I forgot to ask you. Where exactly are the two of ya honeymooning now? You two didn't tell me. Better not be someplace ultra-expensive like Monte Carlo or something like that," Mike growled.

Melissa laughed. "Oh, no, no, Dad. We're not going anywhere like that. It's somewhere right here in our very own backyard."

"Hmm. Where would that be?" Mike asked curiously.

"That would be Mt. Vulcan," I replied. It was true. What my Dad had suggested we'd do had ended up being where Melissa and I decided we would honeymoon at after our wedding. It made a lot of sense, really: it was extremely cheap, costing absolutely nothing to go there at all, not to mention there would be more likely than not absolutely nobody else up there to bother the two of us. It would be very romantic, if you know what I mean…

"Mt. Vulcan? Sounds alright with me," Mike said, simply.

George slapped me on the back. "Mt. Vulcan, eh? Heh! Good one, Ralph! Good one!"

My dad cheered for me. "Hey, that's right boy! I told ya that would be the best place! You'll have tons of good memories up there!"

Mike looked confused. "What's so significant about that place?" It was obvious Mike knew nothing of Mt. Vulcan's reputation. It was a little hard to believe he didn't.

George fielded that question. "Well, in case you didn't already know, Mike, Mt. Vulcan is where most of us from this Forest rounded all the bases and hit one out of the ballpark for the first time. If you get what I'm saying…"

Mike pondered that and then winced. "Oh. Oh. Oh, damn." He cringed heavily. "Damn. I really did not need to know that."

"Well, that's not the whole reason we're going that, Dad," Melissa smiled. "It'll be a nice quiet place for us to spend the first few days of our lives as a married couple together. Isn't that right, Ralph?"

I nodded. "Exactly! A much better alternative to some big fancy city."

Mike still frowned. "Look, you two are gonna be married so I don't have a problem with that anymore, and that is your business, but dammit, that's my daughter, Ralph. I don't want to think about that. If you value your hide, you are not going to share the details of you two's personal lives with me. You got that?"

"I understand, Mike…"

"Mr. Mulligan," Lisa asked of Mike.

"Mr. Mulligan was my grandfather. Call me Mike. I don't like being called 'Mr. Mulligan,' uh, your name is Lisa, right? Is that what George said?"

"Yes," Lisa replied. "Mike, where is your family? Wouldn't you invite them up for Uncle Ralph and Aunt Melissa's wedding?"

"I'm sorry to say, Lisa, that as far as I know all my family's dead. Outside of me and Melissa, there are no Mulligans left alive, far as I know. And after Saturday, there'll only be me left. Be glad you aren't part of a dying family."

Melissa whispered to me. "Ralph, I'm sure there are other Mulligans out there somewhere. I'll have to do some research to see if there are any still alive. I do like to think I have some family somewhere out there."

"I'm sure there's probably one or two out there, honey. It would be nice to meet them."

George said. "You're not part of a dying family anymore, Mike. Think about it. This Saturday, you'll be a member of our extended family."

"Yeah, you're going to be my brother!" Dad blurted out gleefully. He was still thinking about that free beer he wanted so much.

"See, Dad? You're not really going to be alone-you have a lot of new relatives and in-laws," Melissa beamed.

George put his hand on Mike's shoulder. "Welcome to the Raccoon family, Mike."

Mike smiled a bit. "Gee, uh, thanks, everybody. Suppose it's much better than being the last in a family tree…"

Mike thought he was permanently alone in the world, but in a way, he wasn't. He was part of our extended family-and we were proud to have the Mulligans join our family tree.

---

Soon enough came the night of my bachelor party. You'd be surprised to know it was a rather subdued affair. Bert, being the best man, hosted the party at the Raccoondominium. Among the guests included George, my father, his friends Henry and Peter, Cedric, and a few of Bert's college friends, as well as Don Ringtail. I was really surprised by how well Bert behaved at the party. Bert only drank one beer. Only one. Two years ago, there was no doubt Bert would have probably downed at least ten and probably passed out. It really was true. He really was maturing and starting to grow up. Sure, he was still very goofy and light-hearted, but his overall behavior was definitely improved-by a whole lot. I couldn't say the same for my Dad, though…Dad consumed over twenty-five beers and ended up passing out, forcing Henry and Peter to carry him out and take him home. No doubt he would be nursing a hangover at the wedding tomorrow. I hoped that this would not turn out to be a repeat performance of George's wedding…

It was Saturday. Today was the big day. The day of my wedding. I was already dressed up in my tuxedo, while Bert was getting ready as well. Bert was actually wearing a tuxedo too, like everybody else. This was very surprising of him, considering Bert absolutely hated dressing up. The last time I'd seen him do it, was at our prom. The same went for my father as well-he hated wearing a suit.

I was looking over a letter that had come in the mail this morning. The address read, "From San Francisco, California, USA."

I tried to think of who I knew that lived way down in San Francisco. There was only one person I knew of…

"Ah, this must be from my old riding coach when I took part in that motorcycle competition, Keith Tippett." It was a bit of surprise hearing from Keith, considering he'd left for a new job offer State-side in Frisco, but I did remember my Mom had contacted him in the hopes of seeing if he would attend my wedding. (Considering the date it arrived, it was obvious he wouldn't be coming, but it would still be interesting to see what he had to say.)

I opened the envelope and read the letter in my head. "Dear Ralph Raccoon: Good grief, it's been ages since I've heard anything from you! Haven't heard from you since I moved down here to San Francisco. Life is a lot different down here, but it's certainly been worth the move. Allow me to explain: I was selected to run as the general manager of an Indy Car team, the Kraco Racing Enterprises Team. I am finally going to be living my childhood Indy dream, in a way. My name'll never be on the Bug-Warner Trophy as I always dreamed it would be, but I might very well win as a big part of a team. We have two very talented youngsters driving for us this year: Geoff Flabham, from Australia (son of the former World Champion Jack Flabham), and none other than the great Mario Hendretti's young son Michael Hendretti. He's about your age, Ralph, and he's a chip off his old man's shoulder! Practically brimming with talent. Already we've run two races this year and we finished third last race at Phoenix. I see big things ahead of us in the future with these two. Us and Michael this year are competing for Rookie of the Year this year at Indy. We're the favorite to do so; our only other serious competition is this young kid from South America called Roberto Gorilla. It will be a very close race between the two of them, but I think we might not only win Rookie of the Year, we might just win the big race itself! We got a damned good team put together, a lightning fast pit crew, top-notch engine builders, everything! I must say that I was inspired to seek employment for an Indy Car team by your performance against that little bastard Arnold Layne. You ought to write me back telling me what became of him, I hope it's not very pleasant, heh-heh! But I'd like to thank you, Ralph, for helping me finally decided to achieve my dream-I'm living it now! You and your new bride ought to watch us later this month on TV so you can see us tear up the competition at the Brickyard! Speaking of which, I would personally like to congratulate you on getting married to that gal you were trying to win the paw of at that motorcycle competition-good on ya! I do wish the two of you the best of luck in your future lives together. I would really love to come up and see you two's wedding-I'd even love to bring the whole team up in person so ya could meet Geoff and Mike in person-I've told them about you before! Unfortunately, my scheduling doesn't permit it, as we'll be busy testing for the big race and thus, I can't possibly attend. However, let it be known that I do send the two of you my congratulations. This past year Shirley and I tied the know-so I know what it's like to go through this whole big scene! Good luck to the two of ya in the future-Regards, Keith A. Tippett."

I smiled reading that letter. Sure, Keith couldn't attend, but I was glad for him-he was finally living his dream, in a way. He really did have a big future ahead of him in the world of Indy Car racing State-side. Myself, I didn't want to watch auto racing anymore (not after the rather…gruesome occurrence I'd seen in qualifying for the '82 edition of the Indy 500…), but I might just tune in just to see Keith and his team's two drivers.

Bert strutted up to me, dressed up smartly. "Say, Ralph, who's that letter by?"

I didn't want to tell Bert who'd written it, being that Bert still loved the Indy Cars (especially since Tom Sneva had recently finally won the big race the previous year) and this letter would really, really hype him up. Seriously, I do think if Bert were a child growing up today, they'd diagnose him with some form of ADHD and probably medicate him…

"Ah, it's just a letter of congratulations from an old family friend," I said, putting the letter in my pocket.

"Well, Ralph. This is it. Today's the big day. After today, you'll be a married raccoon. You sure you're ready to go through with this?" Bert asked.

I nodded. "More ready than you could ever know. I've been waiting for this day to arrive ever since we got engaged, no way I can back out of it now."

"I'm a bit surprised, Ralph, that you didn't want any…you know…exotic entertainment last night…" He was referring to my bachelor party; Dad had tried to hire a stripper from the party, but he'd been unsuccessful. Which I thought was for the better-I personally didn't want to get in trouble with Melissa…

"Well, that's not for me, Bert," I replied confidently.

"Eh, suit yourself," he shrugged. "We got all the rehearsal stuff out of the way, right?"

"Yes, Bert," I replied. "I think we're all set."

"Whew, good, I'm getting a bit tired of all this rehearsing we had to do the past couple weeks. Damn. Really wore me out."

"I wonder how you'll be able to survive on the road," I cracked at him.

"Hey, hey! I'll manage-I think I can adapt to the rockstar lifestyle very well!" Bert still had complete faith in himself that he and the Flying Aces would succeed greatly.

"We'll see about that…"

"Seriously, Ralph, I can't believe you didn't want some kind of…entertainment last night. I mean, c'mon. Last night will be the very last free night you'll ever have in your life. As of a few short hours from now, you'll be officially and legally tied down! You won't be able to have much free time of your own anymore." Bert was trying to make it sound like it was a huge burden being married, but I didn't really see it that way.

"Well, Bert, I don't look it at that way. I don't see our union as something burdensome-I see it as rather exciting, if you will. The start of our new, exciting, uncertain future. I look quite forward to that."

"Like I said, suit yourself. Good idea picking Mt. Vulcan, heh-heh," he chuckled. "See, I really taught you well back in those days!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Bert, stop. That's not the only reason we're going there, you know! It costs nothing to go there and the scenery is extremely beautiful; it's a very romantic place. Between that and some hotel suite in a city, who couldn't help but choose it?"

Bert looked like he'd been put in his place. "Hmm…point taken…"

I figured I'd bring something else up with him. "I see you barely drank anything last night, Bert…"

Bert laughed. "I'm a changed man, Ralph. Couple years back I would have drank the whole lot and made a fool out of myself, but, well, I see how much this whole thing means to you. You're getting married to the woman of your dreams, Ralphie boy! Not every guy gets to be that lucky, ya know. I couldn't get myself hammered last night, I'm proud of ya, Ralph, and I don't want to miss this for anything in the world, ol' pal!"

Words like that meant volumes to me. "Wow, I guess it really is true, Bert. You really are starting to grow up…" And he really and truly was. Bert was starting to make more good decisions and tread along the right path. Maybe he did stand a chance in the big city after all...

"Well, of course I am, Ralph. I need to learn how to make my own decisions for myself and become independent, after all. It's only a month or so before my band leaves the Forest for good. See, that's why I spent most of the last couple days with Cedric. It could very well be the last time I see him for a long time to come."

I would miss Bert when he left. "Well, I do wish you the best of luck in your city endeavors, Bert. Boy, I think I'm ready to see Melissa…" I wanted to see her before the wedding, I hadn't seen her in almost 24 hours. While me and the guys had been having our little bachelor get-together last night, Melissa, Nicole, my mother, and a handful of others had been doing some activities at my parents' house.

Bert shot a look at me like I was nuts. "What, are you crazy, Ralph! You can't see your bride before the wedding!"

I was confused. "Huh? Why not? Why can't I see Melissa?"

"Ralph, don't you know? It's very bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. You're not supposed to see her while she's readying herself for the big occasion!"

"Oh." I remembered now, it was a very old tradition the groom wasn't supposed to see his bride right before their wedding. It seemed like a bit of a silly one, though. "What would possibly happen if I did see her?"

Bert quickly chirped up, "Well, all sorts of bad things. If I remember what I heard right, your marriage will immediately be cursed by that. Your marriage will be a very sad, unlucky, and unhappy one. The spark in your relationship will burn out and the love between the two of you will quickly die. There'll be a seventy-five percent chance your marriage will end in an unhappy divorce within three years or less." Bert made it sound like an absolute disaster. "Or, maybe I don't remember right. Somebody else told me the both of you's tails would drop off. Maybe it was that. Yeah, had to be that. If you see Melissa before your wedding, both of your tails will fall off. You don't want that, do you?" I slapped myself mentally. Sure, Bert might be in the process of maturing and growing up, but that still didn't mean he wasn't still very goofy and prone to being silly and/or saying silly or borderline stupid things.

But I figured I might as well follow tradition. "I guess not…" I said, quietly.

"Ah, let me just say one more thing, Ralph: there better be peanut butter at the reception..." How typical of him, Bert always thought any situation called for peanut butter.

"I don't think they'll be serving peanut butter, Bert, sorry to burst your bubble," I told him.

Bert looked horrified.

"What? No peanut butter? My goodness, your family must not have any taste!"

---

Soon enough we were all gathered at the Evergreen Church. The Reverend Eric Bell, a groundhog, was presiding over the wedding. There were maybe fifty of my family, friends, and associates gathered here for the ceremony. Here I was, standing at the altar.

Sooner than I knew it, the bride was coming up the aisle. Melissa, in her wedding gown, being led by Mike. I noticed that Mike was crying, as I said, today was a very bittersweet day for him. His daughter was about to be wed, and he obviously felt rather alone in the world right now.

Soon enough, Reverend Bell began giving the typical speech, the vows, the usual-you know. I won't bore you with the majority of them-I'm sure you've heard enough of them at weddings!

Admittedly the Reverend did go a bit overboard with the speech-he spoke on a lot longer than I could remember the Reverend at George's wedding had. Not to mention, to be honest, he was a little boring…

Melissa shot me a look, basically saying, "When is he going to hurry it up?"

Soon enough, the Reverend finally got to the best part of the wedding.

"Ralph Henry Raccoon," he spoke in his Scottish accent, "do you take Melissa Mulligan to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor an' keep her in sickness and in health for the rest of your natural Earth-bound life?"

"I do," I said proudly.

Reverend Bell then asked the same of Melissa. "And you, Melissa Allison Mulligan, do you take Ralph Raccoon to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor an' keep him in sickness and in health for the rest of your natural Earth-bound life?"

Melissa nodded. "I do, Reverend."

"Very well," he said, glancing towards me. "You may now kiss the bride."

Our lips closed in as we kissed each other. We were now officially a married couple. The future seemed so bright for us.

Everyone applauded. I could overhear my father whispering to Mike.

"Hey, Mike, now that we're family…" I figured he was discussing the prospect of free beer, because I heard Mike whisper back, "Sorry, no can do Art. Nobody gets free beer. Hell. I wouldn't give you free beer if you were my own son! It's not right to give anyone a pardon on free alcohol…"

Melissa and I looked at each other. We didn't know what lay in store for us as a pair of newlyweds…

But we both knew, that no matter what, we would never part until our dying days.

END CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You know, it's funny when I look back at my earlier chapters and see I thought a 9,000 word chapter was extremely long. Pah. That's NOTHING compared to this chapter! If you're wondering why it's so large, well, it is the last regular chapter, so I basically decided to cram everything I could in to fill up the chapter. That actually meant I ended up clipping a few things out of this chapter since I gave myself a 20,000 word limit for this chapter: among the things I ended up not putting in included a physical appearance by Keith Tippett (I ended up just reducing his role in this chapter to a non-appearing role, having sent a congratulatory letter to Ralph), George explaining some of his past story to Ralph and Melissa (Now that might be an interesting idea for a future fanfic; I mean, we know even less about George than we do Ralph! Maybe sometime in the future…), an appearance by Aunt Gertie, and some more of Ralph's father's stupidity. Anyways, onto some more notes…

The part about Ralph's father having eaten crayons as a child is 100% Homer-inspired (Well, his character is too, so...). When he was a child, Homer shoved crayons up his nose, the end result being that one got lodged in his brain and proved to be a leading cause behind his stupidity. I need to watch that episode again...Not to mention, there's also an adaptation of the infamous "last peanut" scene, and the basic description of Arthur's fantasy of what he would do with millions of dollars is based upon a fantasy Homer had of winning the lottery: he had himself gold plated with 14-karat gold, became the biggest man in the world, and Mr. Burns promptly declared him to be "King Homer." However, his letter informing his wife and his family that they need not worry where he is is inspired by a similar letter Peter Griffin left in a episode of Family Guy, when he attempted to have Chris convert to Judaism in hopes that he would become smarter as a result.

That song you see George singing along to (and air-guitaring, probably out of character but I thought it was funny so I kept it anyways) is called Whiskey In The Jar. It's an old, old song (how old? We're talking written back in the 16/1700s...), a folk song hailing from Ireland. The version here would be the version performed by Irish rock band Thin Lizzy (criminally underrated band, primarily only known for "The Boys Are Back In Town"), a single released in 1972. I have this song as a bonus track on their 1973 album, Vagabonds Of The Western World (actually, I have it as a bonus track on TWO album, it's also on 1972's Shades Of A Blue Orphanage...this is why I should check album track listings first...) I really do like this song.

Mike smokes Manitoba brand cigarettes, the brand of cigarette from King of the Hill. Hey, if they had products from Acme on this show (can't name the specific episodes off the top of my head)...

Kraco Racing Enterprises was a real 1980s Indy Car team based out of California, their drivers in 1984 were Geoff Brabham and rookie Michael Andretti. (I think some of these punny names I came up with are astronomically dumb looking back at them now, but, well, what can I do?)

Last but not least, if you wanted to see more of the wedding, I fully do apologize for that-I don't really know how on earth I would begin to write a wedding, plus, to be honest, I think it would be a stately bore to write out a whole wedding. So I just wrote a small portion of it. Sorry if I disappointed anybody about that.

Anyways, that's pretty much the entire fanfic, but we still have an epilogue ahead of us, which features the wrapping up of some final events leading up to the show, Ralph's final words looking back on everything, the lead-up to next year's big fanfic (See my profile for more information about that, it's in its embryonic stages right now), and last but not least, a special thanks section in which I thank those of you who've reviewed this fanfiction and give shoutouts to anybody and anything I think is in need of one. My character list (chapter 18, not really a chapter but something I felt like tacking on to the end) will explain the choosing of the names of some of the original characters, as well as feature a few little random facts I threw in.

I hope you enjoyed this fanfic (I'm saying that a little prematurely, but still, I'll say it anyways) and I hope to bring you more in the future, time permitting!