Chapter 2: Homecoming
Yakko leaned his head back against the headrest, shutting his eyes as he did so. He always got a headache on airplanes. He didn't know whether it was the stale cabin air or the altitude change that did it, but it was inevitable. And apparently all the Tylenol in the world couldn't prevent it. He was cursed. It didn't help that he was dead tired and it was barely three o'clock in the afternoon. And when they landed in California it would three hours earlier. That meant he had three hours of extra day to get through. And the day was already turning out to be a little trip to hell and back.
As predicted, Yakko found that he couldn't sleep. So he spent the night packing for himself and Wakko; knowing how picky Dot was about her clothing and toiletries, he would be better off just leaving that up to her when she woke up. He had called the airlines at five in the morning to secure three tickets to LAX; there were no tickets to Burbank this last minute, but after another quick phone call to Scratchensniff the doctor assured him that there would be someone to pick them up in Los Angeles. Then he drank three mugs full of green tea before he began the dangerous task of waking up Wakko and Dot from their slumber. They had both received a nasty shock the night before, and coupling that with the fact that they had gone to bed late, waking them up was like asking for Armageddon.
Dot responded by calling him a sadist. Wakko had tried to kick him.
When Yakko finally managed to get both of their groggy butts out of bed, they turned their rage on each other. Evidently someone, Yakko couldn't tell who, had dropped the other's toothbrush onto the bathroom floor, and this somehow erupted into petty name-calling and shoving. Luckily they were both so tired that the fight didn't progress much farther than that. But Yakko still had to split them up, still had to yell at them like they were six and eight-years-old instead of the thirteen and fifteen that they were.
He could not understand what had gotten into them lately. Wakko and Dot were constantly at each other's throats, and he had no idea what to do about it. They had been relatively well behaved when they were younger. They fought, sure, but not like now. He supposed it was because they were just close in age and at that stage where everything was a much bigger deal than it should be. When Yakko was one on one with a sibling, they were fine. While she had a flair for the dramatic, Dot was usually affectionate and open with him, always bubbly and chatting about her friends. Wakko was the opposite; he had grown to be a bit more reticent and moody, but Yakko found that he could usually draw out Wakko's goofy side after a while. Yakko remembered that he had been a bit of a sullen grump at that age too, though with him it had manifested itself in an overflow of sarcastic comments that typically earned him extra homework or a lecture.
When it was the three of them together it was at least better than the terrible two, but that still meant that Yakko had to be the peacekeeper. Even now he had made sure he sat between them on the plane. Dot was on his right, staring out of the window with her chin in her hand and her tail curled up in her lap. Wakko was on his left, munching on some pretzels.
"I wonder how Skippy is doing."
Yakko turned to his sister. She had spoken so quietly he had barely heard her over the dull roar of the jet engines. Dot was still gazing out into the clouds. He could see her glum face reflected in the window.
"I don't know Dot. But I bet he'll appreciate you being there, he could probably use a friend right now," Yakko said softly.
"Yeah," she muttered, then let her forehead fall against the window with a dull thunk.
Yakko watched her for a moment before turning to his brother. Wakko was still eating pretzels, but when Yakko glanced down, he noticed that there were at least four empty pretzel bags strewn across his tray table.
"Uh, Wakko," Yakko began, watching his brother eat, "did you hijack the beverage cart or something? How did you get all those?"
Wakko answered with his mouth full of food, "Every time the flight attendant guy comes by I tell him that the bag he gave me was empty, so he just gives me another one. Its worked like five times now."
Yakko rolled his eyes. He didn't know which was more impressive: Wakko's ingenuity or the flight attendant's stupidity. "Give me one," he said.
"No."
"Give me a pretzel."
"No way."
"You've already eaten five bags! Give some to us starving toons."
"Get your own."
Yakko made a sudden grab for the bag, but Wakko quickly snatched his hand away.
"Ah, too slow, grasshopper," Wakko taunted with a smirk.
Smirking himself, Yakko reached behind his back and whipped out a camera.
"Say cheese!"
"What?" was all Wakko managed to get out before Yakko snapped a picture. The flash blinded Wakko, and in that same moment Yakko yanked the pretzels from out of his brother's hands.
"You starlet, always distracted by a camera," Yakko sighed, tossing a pretzel into his mouth.
"No fair!" Wakko cried. He made a dive at Yakko, who held the pretzels up in the air and out of Wakko's reach.
"No fair!" Yakko parroted back in a perfect imitation of Wakko's voice.
Wakko cringed. "Ugh, don't do that, you know I hate when you do my voice!"
"You think it's hilarious when I do Dot's."
"Yeah, 'cause that's funny. It's just weird when my voice starts coming out of your mouth. It's creepy. Also, give me back my pretzels."
"I'm afraid I can't do that."
"You're setting a terrible example right now, you know. You're supposed to be the mature one," Wakko grumbled.
Yakko ate another pretzel and said, "I'm having a momentary regressive stage."
"Are you really denying food from your little brother?"
"I'm confident you'll live."
"I'm calling child services."
"I don't think they have jurisdiction on airplanes."
"Pretzels. Give."
"Make me."
Grinning, Wakko made another lunge at Yakko, knocking him into Dot's shoulder.
"Do I need to separate you two?" she snapped, mimicking Yakko's disciplinarian tone.
Yakko laughed at this, giving Wakko time to snatch his pretzels back.
Their little spat over the food turned out to be a welcome diversion to reality. It made them forget, if only momentarily, why they were on the airplane to begin with. Once all three of them had settled down, Yakko found his thoughts drifting back to Slappy…how he'd never hear her voice again, or see her clobber some unsuspecting toon over the head with her cane…
And God, poor Skippy. Yakko had to admit that he had completely forgotten about the boy until Dot had mentioned him. If he remembered correctly, Skippy was around the same age as Dot. The loss of Slappy was going to be hard and confusing for him. Yakko knew what it was like to have very few family members to speak of. The thought of losing either one of his siblings was unfathomable. His brain seemed to grind to a halt before he could even contemplate the possibility.
A familiar snore pulled Yakko from his thoughts. Turning to his left, he saw that Wakko had fallen asleep sitting straight up, his head thrown back, mouth open, his tongue lolling out to one side. Attractive, Yakko thought with a snicker. Seconds later, Yakko felt the soft thud of Dot's head hitting his shoulder. She was out cold. Glancing at his watch, he realized that they still had another four hours of flight ahead of them. And that was just the beginning. His siblings had the right idea.
Trying to push thoughts of Slappy and Skippy from his mind, Yakko leaned back and fell into a troubled sleep.
The three Warners stumbled off the plane and into the terminal like zombies. Sleep deprivation clearly did not suit any of them. At one point Dot made some comment about how she "probably looked like shit" which Wakko blearily confirmed, and it was a true testament to how tired he was that Yakko did not reprimand either of them.
Wakko staggered after his brother blindly, barely aware of what was going on around him. He knew he had walked directly into at least two people, one of them an elderly woman, and had to be steered away by Yakko. Airplane sleep was nothing compared to real sleep, and he had gotten next to no real sleep last night anyway. Every time he tried closing his eyes, he'd hear Slappy's voice or, possibly worse, see the blank stare on Yakko's face. For some reason that had made Wakko really uncomfortable. In fact, nearly any serious display of emotion from his older brother set Wakko on edge. Wakko felt as though Yakko had seen every inch of him: Yakko had seen him cry, had seen him lose his temper, become destructive, he had seen him become sentimental, devastated, frightened, panicked…but Wakko never got to see any of those sides to Yakko. If he had those sides at all.
He guessed it had to do with the fact that Yakko had to watch him and Dot. It would be kinda weird if your pseudo-parent older brother was crying all the time or losing his temper at every little thing. But still, even though it would bother him, Wakko sort of wished that Yakko would give him some clue as to how he was feeling, if only so Wakko could compare his own feelings. If they were going to be surrounded by a bunch of grieving people tomorrow he didn't want to offend anybody by acting weird.
A few months ago one of their professors at JTAP, Mr. Furrstein, had died from a sudden cardiac arrest. Wakko had attended the funeral along with his brother and sister, all of JTAP, many Julliard students and professors, more than half of Yakko's cast mates and even more players from other Broadway shows. Wakko had no idea that his arthritic old professor who routinely hacked up hairballs during class was so popular.
But Wakko had always liked the man, so when Mr. Furrstein's widow requested that some of the JTAP students step up to share a few words, Mr. Webber practically dragged him forward. Unlike Mr. Furrstein, Wakko never liked Mr. Webber – he was a crotchety old fart that smelled like ass – so it figured that he would thrust Wakko in front of dozens of people to talk about a deceased man when he had no speech prepared. He remembered yanking nervously at his collar because it had suddenly become incredibly tight as he looked at everyone in the crowd. They seemed to be one massive sea of staring, blinking eyes, with the only recognizable things being Yakko, who urged him on with an encouraging look, and Dot, who watched him with one eyebrow raised.
Not knowing what to say, Wakko found himself babbling about all the little things he liked about Mr. Furrstein, like how he always wore goofy ties, or how he sometimes used students as props during his demonstrations. Things had actually seemed to be going okay until Wakko brought up the time that Mr. Furrstein had managed to cough one of his hairballs directly into the wastebasket and everyone in the class had clapped. When he said it, the image of the whole ordeal had suddenly popped into his head and, to his own horror, Wakko burst out laughing. He hadn't meant to – he was actually really sad – but for some reason he just seemed to lose control of his body, of his emotions, and then there he was, giggling his head off at a funeral.
Mr. Webber had dragged him bodily away from the podium at that point, which ticked Yakko off. People were muttering and throwing him nasty glares. Dot was just hiding her face in her hands, saying that she wished it was her funeral. Wakko had just blushed horribly and sat back down, having never remembered feeling more embarrassed in his life.
Later that night, when Wakko had announced to his brother that he wasn't going to school ever again lest he be ridiculed right out of the building, Yakko had calmly told him not to worry about it. He said that it was good to enjoy the memories, and if everything Wakko had told him about Mr. Furrstein was true, the old cat would have probably found the whole debacle hilarious. But, maybe next time, Wakko should probably exercise a little more restraint when it came to that kind of thing. Some people, as Yakko said, had "annoyingly delicate sensibilities." Yakko also added that he would most definitely be going to school the next day.
"Watch it young man!" a dog toon barked at him suddenly.
Wakko jumped back, startled. He had just walked into someone else. Whoops.
"Geez Wak, watch where you're going will ya?" Yakko mumbled, waving an apologetic hand to the toon, "You're as bad as Mr. Magoo."
"It's not my fault there are so many people in this stupid airport," Wakko grumbled back.
"And we're never going to get out of this stupid airport if you keep bouncing off of every person in it like a pinball," Yakko pointed out. "Now, we need to find baggage claim. Baggage claim, baggage claim…"
"This way," Dot said, yawning. She led them downstairs to the baggage carousels where they waited, watching suitcase after suitcase parade past them. It was hypnotic in a way, and Wakko was only moments from dozing off when Dot spoke up.
"So who's picking us up?"
"Eehhhhh, that's a good question sis. Scratchy said he'd get someone we knew," Yakko answered, turning to scan the crowd.
Wakko turned to look as well, though he had to stand on his tiptoes. Even though he was still growing, he doubted he would ever get to be as tall as Yakko. He was glad though; Yakko had been tall and lanky as a child, and had never really grown out of it. He just grew taller and lankier. Wakko at least felt like he was going to be a bit more evenly proportioned.
Wakko's eyes brushed the crowd, searching for a familiar face. Humans and toons on business hustled past, families herded themselves around, while others were running toward each other and laughing, clearly reuniting for the holidays. Who would Scratchy have sent? He hoped it wasn't Plotz. The guy had never liked any of them. He really hoped it wasn't Ralph. They'd be lucky to get to Burbank alive with that dunce behind the wheel.
There were a couple of people along the wall – chauffeurs by the looks of them, as they all held signs with various last names on them. Wakko read some of the names. Berkowitz...Paulsen…Duckworth…Hartnell…Warner…Macneille…
Wait, 'Warner?'
Wakko snapped his gaze back to the 'Warner' sign, his eyes traveling upwards to the face connected with it. A blue toon rabbit was holding it, grinning at him.
"Buster!" Wakko called out, grabbing Yakko's jacket and pointing.
Yakko looked up, then let out a loud, joyous cry as his face split with a genuine smile. Buster Bunny hurried toward him, but Yakko met him halfway. The two old friends hugged, and Yakko exchanged a few words that made the rabbit laugh out loud before Buster turned to him and Dot.
"Hiya guys!" he greeted, giving them a tooth-filled grin as he stashed the 'Warner' sign behind his back. "Have a good flight?"
"Ask Wakko, he ate his weight in airplane food," Dot muttered.
Buster shook both of their hands, explaining how he had jumped at the chance to pick them up when he got the call from Scratchensniff, asking them about New York, grimacing when they told him about the snow, then concluded with asking them to describe how badly Yakko was hamming it up on Broadway. This earned him an ear flick from Yakko.
After helping them pull their luggage off the carousel, Buster led them to his car. As they cruised up I-5, he filled them in on the major events of the past two years – who did what, who dated whom, what happened where, everything. Yakko and Dot laughed and joked with him, though Wakko was keenly aware of the note of sadness that hung about the car. It was difficult to disguise why they were here.
Wakko watched the blue rabbit as he spoke. He had certainly grown since he'd last seen him. Like Yakko, Buster's face had gotten a little more angular, with coarser fur lining the cheekbones. He had whiskers now, and he was taller too, only about an inch or two shorter than Yakko if you didn't include the ears. But Buster's brown eyes still possessed a bit of the boyish spark that had radiated from him in their youth. Like he was almost grown up, but not quite. Wakko noticed it when Buster talked about the shenanigans that he, Plucky, and Hampton had managed to get into while the Warners were absent.
"We missed ya, man," Buster told Yakko. "Whenever we got into trouble, we didn't have anyone to talk us out of it."
"It was for your own good. Sometimes I felt like I spent more time getting you guys out of trouble than I spent getting into it myself," Yakko said.
Buster glanced sideways at Yakko.
"You were the good boy. You were also too busy chasing tail. Hey guys, is he still girl crazy?" Buster called back to them.
"Yes," Wakko and Dot chorused from the back seat.
"What!" Yakko yelped, his voice rising slightly. He wheeled around in his seat, shooting them a hurt look, "I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Yes," they replied again.
Yakko scowled at them before turning back to Buster. "Ignore the wee ones, they know not of which they speak," he said.
"How's Rebecca?" Dot asked snidely.
Yakko sighed and massaged the bases of his ears as Wakko and Buster snickered.
They chatted like this as if the three of them had never left, carefully avoiding the subject of Slappy. Wakko had been enjoying the comfortable chatter so much that he hadn't noticed that the streets were becoming familiar, or that they had just passed a playground where he had spent half his childhood burning off energy. It wasn't until Dot gasped and pointed that he looked out the window and felt his heart jump. They were driving past the Warner Brothers lot, and there it was – the water tower, stretching into the cloudy sky. The sight of it was so achingly familiar that Wakko had half a mind to leap out of the car and run towards it. Even though they hadn't actually lived there in real life, they had filmed plenty of scenes up on it, and really, it was their symbol. When people thought of the tower, they thought of the Warners, and vice versa.
Everyone in the car had gone silent as the Warners watched the tower slowly move past them in the distance. Yakko turned around, looking at Dot, and then at him. His eyes were as bright as his smile, and Wakko could tell that his brother was thinking the same thing he was: they were home.
"Geez Buster, look at this house. You might actually pass as an adult now," Yakko said, stepping out of the car.
"Hardy har," Buster drawled.
They had pulled into the driveway of a prestigious red brick townhouse in an expensive part of Toontown. The property was gated, and a professionally landscaped lawn sat behind the wrought-iron bars.
"Wow man, nice digs," Wakko complimented as he tugged his suitcase out of the trunk.
Buster joined him, retrieving Dot's suitcase. "Why, thank you Wakko. It's nice to see at least one Warner brother developed some manners in the big city. This place was my grandfather's. He died last year, and all he left my cousins in his will was fifty dollars each, but he went and left me his whole house." Buster said. "I was his favorite grandchild," he added, smirking at Yakko and Dot's open-mouthed stares.
Their suitcases bounced along the cobblestone sidewalk as they made their way to the front door. Buster held it open for them, continuing, "I moved into here a few months ago. You know, you guys had it made, living on your own and all that jazz. It's awesome. I can stay up as late as I want, I can go whenever – and seriously, if I want to leave my socks on the kitchen table, I can leave my socks on the kitchen table. It's heaven."
"And your mom stops by every week to do your laundry," Yakko added.
"Nah, she only comes by every two weeks to – hey!" Buster sputtered, then scowled at Yakko. "Cram it, chuckles. Here I am, letting you three stay in my house out of the goodness of my heart, and I'm met with nothing but ridicule. You're lucky I don't stuff you in that suitcase of yours and ship you back to Ellis Island."
"And miss a weekend of my charm and casual good looks? You would never," Yakko said with a serene smile. Wakko, who had been watching the exchange, let out a soft burp. Dot looked at both of them, appalled, before sighing dramatically.
Buster grinned. "You three haven't changed a bit."
Telling them to follow him, Buster took them on "the grand tour," guiding them from room to room. While he was very happy for his friend, Yakko inwardly cursed Buster's good fortune – the house was gorgeous. A chandelier hung above the foyer, which led into a rustic-looking kitchen. Judging by how spotless the stovetop was versus the amount of mystery sauce that splattered the inside of the microwave, Yakko assumed that Buster did not do a lot of cooking. From there they stepped into the high-ceilinged living room, complete with a big screen TV and surround sound that had Wakko practically salivating all over the carpet. Pictures lined the staircase as they made their way to the second floor. Yakko inspected them, smiling at the familiar faces: one of Buster and his parents, another of the whole Tiny Toons crew, and one of him and Buster on the Warner Brothers lot, taken sometime before Animaniacs ended. The upstairs had three bedrooms and a full and half bathroom. Dot all but threw herself into the master bathroom, which had two sinks sunken into a marble counter, proclaiming that she'd never leave. Yakko had to tug her out by her tail as she clung to the toilet seat.
Buster escorted them to the two guest bedrooms where they'd be sleeping for the weekend. One glance at his siblings told Yakko that he and Wakko would be sharing the larger bedroom, leaving Dot to have the other room to herself. He feared that if Wakko and Dot shared a room, only one of them would come out alive.
With their grand tour complete, Yakko let Dot and Wakko unpack while he followed Buster into the master bedroom. If he couldn't have guessed that it was Buster's house before, the rabbit's bedroom was a dead giveaway. Sharp blue paint was barely visible in the spaces between dozens of LA Lakers posters. Crumpled piles of clothing littered the floor while video cameras, a stereo, multiple CDs and tangles of black cables covered his dressers.
Noticing a few picture frames on the nightstand, Yakko went over to look at them. Every single frame held a photo of Buster and Babs. Some when they were younger, on the set of Tiny Toons, arms draped over each other's shoulders. Some photos were of the two when they were teens, freshly a couple, with Babs squeezing Buster very tightly. But Yakko's eyes drifted to the largest, most prominent frame. It was clearly the most recent picture. They were both in baseball uniforms – Buster had mentioned something about a summer league to him once. Buster looked mostly the same as he did now, his hair maybe a bit shorter. But Babs looked older, or at least no longer looked like a teenager. She had one arm wrapped around Buster's waist, with the other jauntily perched on her hip. It was clear that she had taken good care of herself – she still had that toned, athletic look about her, but with new accents of femininity around her wrists and cheekbones. Her smile and her eyes though…those had remained the same.
Yakko cursed Buster's luck again – he would wind up with a stunning house and a completely hot girlfriend.
"So, Warner," Buster said, closing the door behind him, "Now that I have you alone…"
Yakko snorted as he set the picture back down, waggling his eyebrows. No suggestive situation was to go unmentioned in Buster's presence.
Buster's grin faded somewhat. "Seriously though, I have to talk to you. I've gotta say, it's great to see ya man, I missed you."
"God, you too," Yakko said earnestly, "I'm sorry I didn't call more, I meant to, I just…I don't know, there was just so much going on. Wakko and Dot have school, I'm always at the show – "
"Dude, forgiven," Buster assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I grew up with you. I know Papa Warner has to take care of the little Warners, even when he should rightfully be out enjoying himself."
There was a half second where Yakko couldn't decide if there was resentment in that sentence or not. He chose to ignore it.
"And look, I'm really sorry about Slappy," Buster continued. "I really liked her a lot, and I didn't know her nearly as well as you guys did."
Yakko shared a solemn look with his friend. "I'm going to miss her, she was something else. I couldn't believe it when Scratchy told me. It's just so weird, ya know? I would have never thought…I don't know. But you, you've been here. Do you know what happened? Was she sick?"
Buster met his gaze with such an uncharacteristically serious look on his face that Yakko almost took a step back. He couldn't even pinpoint a moment in all his memories of Buster where the rabbit had been serious. Just ten minutes ago he had been making cracks about his dead grandfather's old man smell that still lingered in the laundry room.
"Look, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Buster said, dropping his voice low. "What did Scratchensniff tell you?"
Yakko shook his head. "Nothing. He said we had to wait for details. Why?"
Buster's eyes shot back and forth, looking around as though an eavesdropper was in the room with them. "Okay, look, I can't confirm any of this, I just got it from a…reliable source. But – okay, don't freak out or anything, I don't know if it's true – "
"Save it Buster. I'm a big boy now. Tell me."
"Okay…" Buster inhaled deeply, "Someone told me that Slappy's death…wasn't exactly natural."
"You wanna expand on that?"
"They think there was foul play involved."
An unpleasant tingling feeling was crawling down Yakko's arms. "What?"
"I know. I don't get it either," said Buster. He shivered slightly.
"Why do they think that? What happened?" Yakko demanded, his voice pitching upwards.
"I don't really know. All I heard was that they could tell just by the way they found the, um, the body," answered Buster, looking uncomfortable.
"Who told you this?"
Buster squirmed further. "A, uh, a source."
"Oh c'mon, who? I'm not a blabbermouth," Yakko prodded.
Buster raised his eyebrows. Scowling, Yakko crossed his arms and protested, "Yeah, I know I talk a lot, but I don't exactly start my conversations with, 'Oh, did I tell you what Buster Bunny told me regarding the dubious circumstances of a dear friend's passing?'"
"Alright, alright! Don't get your panties in a knot, sheesh. Look, you just really can't tell anyone. Not a single word. I was sworn to secrecy on this, I shouldn't even be telling you."
"Buster what kind of damn friend do you think I am!"
"Jesus, okay! Look, Shirley told me, alright? She's a gossip columnist now. She writes for The Toon Gazette. I guess she was trying to get dish on some stupid Julie Bruin scandal, but ended up coming across the scene when the police were there. She told me she tried using her press pass to get access, but the cops kicked her out and told her she'd be arrested if she wrote anything."
"Shit," Yakko breathed, "and we don't know who did it, if this is all true?"
"Not that I know of."
Realizing his knees were quaking, Yakko sat down on the bed. He felt shaken, like he had been knocked off balance and couldn't get himself right again. Part of him was wishing that Buster had never told him anything, so many thoughts were buzzing in his head like angry bees, and he couldn't make sense of any of them. He was dizzy, unsure of himself…his stomach felt like it was filling up with cement. If it was true, if Slappy was really a victim, then who did it? How? Or, perhaps most importantly, why?
The beginning of a powerful anger was flickering to life in his chest. It had been bad enough that Slappy had died – but now, was someone to blame for it?
"Who the hell would do anything to Slappy? She was just a little old lady for Christ sake, what kind of sick, twisted…" Yakko found that he couldn't finish the sentence. He had never had problems controlling his temper, mainly because he knew when he lost it, he would be out of control. Yakko found it incredibly inconvenient: it was hard to outwit someone when you were so mad you couldn't speak. But right now, he felt himself losing it. His breathing was heavy, his fists were clenched and shaking. Calm down. There's no one here but Buster, and he's not the one to blame. There's nothing you can do.
The bed dipped slightly as Buster sat down next to him. "Yak, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I don't even know if it's true. It could be total bullshit for all I know."
Yakko swallowed, breathing in and out, in and out.
"No. I'm glad you did. I'd rather hear it from you now instead of on the news or something, if that's really what happened."
"Okay. God, the whole thing just gives me the creeps," Buster said, shivering again. He got up and walked to his closet. "Let's talk about something else."
"Do you think someone tried to rob her?" Yakko wondered aloud, ignoring Buster's request.
"Dude, seriously, don't go all Nancy Drew on me. I don't want to talk about it anymore. It's not like we're going to figure it out right now anyway."
Yakko opened his mouth, but closed it again. Casually switching topics after just suggesting that a friend of yours was murdered was not something he found especially easy, but Buster looked genuinely troubled. Unable to ignore Buster's pleading gaze any longer, Yakko nodded.
"Good. Now c'mon, you've been living it up in the big apple for what, two years now? You've gotta have a story for me," Buster said, looking relieved.
Yakko was about to answer him, but burst out laughing as soon as Buster opened his closet door. Pasted up on the inside of it was a large pinup of Lola Bunny wearing nothing but a basketball jersey. Realizing why Yakko was practically falling off the bed, Buster tried to look ashamed of himself but failed terribly.
"Can ya blame me?" Buster asked, stroking the poster.
"Not at all," Yakko conceded, smirking, "But how can you get away with that? What does Babs say?"
Buster ceased his stroking immediately. His shoulders tense, he said dismissively, "Not much. I don't think she really cares."
Feeling like upsetting news was going to be today's theme, Yakko eyed his friend warily. Whenever Buster spoke about Babs, his girlfriend since before Tiny Toons even ended, it was always in a thrilled, almost euphoric tone.
"Something wrong?" Yakko asked.
Buster grunted, frowning. It looked as though he was trying to figure out a difficult math problem. "It's nothing. Not really. I dunno. Babs had some family problems and now she just seems…off…lately. It's not a big deal. Girls snap out of those things, right?"
For the first time since Babs had been brought up, Buster looked at Yakko, his eyes hoping for some kind of reassurance.
"Babs is pretty mercurial, I'm sure it'll work out, Ears," Yakko said, hoping that inflicting the use of his childhood nickname for Buster would somehow lighten the heavy mood that seemed to be dragging them both down.
It must have worked, because Buster smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Really, Warner? 'Mercurial?' Do I need a PhD to carry on a conversation with you?" he asked.
"Fine. For the sake of you common folk, I'll make sure to remain monosyllabic in this household from now on. You know what monosyllabic means, right? Small, little words that won't hurt Buster's brain."
"I'm not kidding about mailing you back to New York, you know," Buster said as he tugged a heavier shirt over his head. "But anyway, Babs'll be over tonight. She wants to see you guys."
"Good," Yakko said, "Now, you see Ears, I could have said 'stupendous' or 'her arrival is greatly anticipated' there but I'd thought I'd stick with 'good,' ya know, a nice, simple word for you to understand – "
Yakko never got to finish his sentence. He was too busy choking on the stream of seltzer water from the bottle that Buster had pulled from behind his back.
Wrapping her tail around her ankles, Dot snuggled closer to Yakko on the couch. While it was definitely warmer here in Burbank than it was in New York, she had always made sure that Yakko kept their Manhattan apartment extra balmy. Buster barely seemed to be using his heat, and it was a big house – she was actually cold.
It didn't matter though. It was nice to be home, if only for a little while. They'd barely spent a day here and it already felt more like home again than their Manhattan apartment ever had. Though Dot had to admit, she missed her JTAP friends. She'd already called Patti, Frizzy, and Bernadette, and was about to call Yvonne before Yakko plucked her cell phone from her hands and stuffed it in his pocket. Apparently he was under the impression that she could go one night without speaking to them. Then again, Yakko was also under the impression that she hadn't just snuck it back out of his pocket while they were on the couch.
Sighing, she leaned into him, feeling the vibrations in his chest as he chatted with Buster. It was nice to see him back to his usual yammering self; Yakko had been oddly quiet since the news about Slappy, but his friend's presence seemed to have pulled him out of that funk, at least for now. Yakko and Buster had been top dogs in their toon education classes on the lot and they complimented each other nicely. They had swung back into their easy friendship as though New York had never happened.
Dot craned her neck to look past Yakko at her other brother. Wakko was leaning on the arm of the couch, head in his hand, watching the big screen TV with a blank look on his face. Buster had delivered the unfortunate news to him that Wakko's friends, mostly extras on the Animaniacs set, had moved away. He probably wouldn't get to see any of them. Wakko had been sulky ever since, and snapped at her for being too loud when she was on the phone with Patti. She had snapped right back at him – it wasn't her fault he didn't have any friends.
Lord knew she had tried to help him. Dot lost track of how many times she had given him tips on how to make friends, the main bit of advice being to try not to be so weird, but he had always yelled at her to "stop rubbing it in" or "quit bragging." She wasn't trying to brag, she was just trying to help. But if Wakko was too stupid to see it, then that was too bad. Boys really were dumb.
Dot turned when Buster laughed loudly at something Yakko said.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Nothing," Yakko said, then turned back to Buster and continued, "So I said, look, I don't want any trouble, I just want to know if telling me that I had a fantastic butt was conducive to helping me learn my blocking…"
Dot rolled her eyes. Yakko should really practice what he preached. For all the crap he gave her about boys, whom did he think she learned it from?
Speaking of which, Dot thought as she turned her attention to Buster. It was a shame that she essentially viewed him as another older brother, otherwise, she would have to place Buster on top of her cute boys list that she kept behind her back. He was even better looking than Razzy, and he was mature, too. How old was he again? Dot chewed on her lip, doing the math: she was pretty sure Buster was about a year older than Yakko, and Yakko was almost nineteen, so Buster was probably nineteen or twenty. And that was only six or so years older than her. They could totally date.
Dot shook her head. She had to watch herself lately; both of her brothers had already called her "boy crazy," and she didn't want to earn the type of reputation that Yakko had already acquired. Besides, it was a lost cause with Buster anyway. He had Babs, and they had been together for as long as Dot could remember.
"NEED A TREE? COME TO ME!"
Everyone in the room jumped as an obnoxious voice bellowed from the television. A familiar voice. Dot turned to the screen and saw none other than Pete, that fatty dad from Goof Troop, holding a large evergreen tree in each arm.
"YOU NAME 'EM WE GOT 'EM, PETE'S CHRISTMAS TREES ARE GREENER THAN THE CASH IN YOUR WALLETS!" Pete yelled as the camera panned across a vast tree farm. "SO DON'T BE A SCROOGE THIS SEASON, C'MON DOWN TO PETE'S CHRISTMAS TREE FARM, TOONTOWN'S ONE STOP SHOP FOR ALL THINGS GROWIN' OUTTA THE GROUND!"
When the commercial was over Dot's ears were ringing.
"Ah, I see he's angling for the hearing impaired market," Yakko drawled, picking at his ear.
Buster snorted. "Looks like selling a bunch of scrawny plants is the best that loser can do. Did you hear he got busted with three DUIs last year? Disney suspended him."
"Serves him right. Randy Beaman told me he was an asshole," Dot said.
"Dot!" Yakko yelped, more surprised than angry.
"What? Randy said it, not me. I'm a lady, I don't use those words," she cooed.
"What does he do with all the trees he didn't sell after Christmas?" Wakko mused.
"Knowing Pete, he's probably figured out a way to make them into alcohol," came a female voice from the foyer.
Dot and her brothers turned in their seats. Babs Bunny was standing in the foyer, ringing water out of her ears with her hands .
"Hey Babs!" Dot and her brothers chorused in unison. Dot blinked and stared at Yakko and Wakko, who stared back. While it only happened occasionally, it was always sort of embarrassing whenever all three of them said or did things at the same time. Like they were going out of their way to be cute, or worse: that they spent far, far too much time together.
"Gee, did you guys rehearse?" Babs quipped.
"Nope, the freaky sibling weirdness just comes naturally," Yakko replied.
Babs gave her ears one last shake, spraying a few water droplets on the walls. "Did you guys bring that gross east coast weather with you? This is the first time it's rained here in weeks."
"Babs, ya should've told me you were here, I could've come to the gate," Buster said, leaning forward in his seat.
"Don't worry Buster, I'm a big girl now, I can handle a little rain," she said. She moved into the living room, smiling as Dot and her brothers got up to greet her. "I missed you guys," she said, squeezing them each in a hug. Dot noticed that the hug she shared with Yakko was decidedly brief. She hardly touched him.
"We missed you too, Babs," Yakko said, "the shortage of pink rabbits in New York is deplorable."
"I'm sure," Babs drawled, "and with you gone I'm sure their stock of loudmouth unidentifiables is plummeting."
Yakko blinked, frowning for a moment before opening his mouth to reply. Sensing that whatever her brother was about to say wasn't going to move the conversation in a positive direction, Dot quickly cut across him.
"I missed you a lot, Babs," she said, "there's too much testosterone in my life right now. I'm glad you're here."
Babs smirked at this, which Dot appreciated. She'd always admired Babs, secretly hoping to be like just like her when she got older. But Babs had never seemed to want to play with her when they were kids, which had frustrated Dot to no end. Now that she herself was thirteen, Dot understood that Babs had probably wanted to play with her as much as she wanted to play with some eight-year-old now, but still, Babs' lack of attention to her had stung.
"Tell me about it," Babs said, "I'm going to the kitchen, you guys want anything to drink?"
"Remember that little speech you gave us about manners, Ears?" Yakko said to Buster, "Babs has been here less than five minutes and she's already offered to get us drinks. You didn't give us a drop."
"Yeah whatever Chatty Kathy, I showed you where the kitchen was."
"We're fine, Babs," Dot sighed as Buster and Yakko traded jibes.
Babs glanced at the two boys, then back to Dot. "I see that some things never change," she said, walking out of the living room.
Yakko folded his t-shirt and placed it neatly back into his suitcase. They were leaving for New York again in two days, so there was no use unpacking everything. Not that you could tell Wakko that: it looked like his suitcase had exploded. In mere hours, Wakko had managed to scatter all of his belongings about the room. At the moment, Wakko was sprawled out across their bed, reading some comic book with his tongue peeking out of his mouth.
"Lights out after I brush my teeth, okay Wak? We have to get up early," Yakko said.
Wakko nodded and continued to read. Kicking off his jeans, Yakko folded these too. As he bent over to place them in the suitcase, he caught a glimpse of the boxer shorts he was wearing and groaned. It was so dark this morning that he hadn't seen which pair he had grabbed and thrown on. Why on earth did he even still have this pair anyway? It was an old pair that Wakko and Dot had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday as a joke: they had pictures of Bugs Bunny all over them.
Rolling his eyes, Yakko dug through his suitcase until he unearthed his toothbrush. He slipped into the dark hallway and was about to walk into the bathroom when he bumped into something warm.
"Whoa – hey, sorry Babs," Yakko said, realizing it was her after catching a face full of pink ears. She was in her sleep shirt and shorts, and it took everything in Yakko's being to keep his eyes focused on her face instead of traveling up her long legs. Growing up, he had never thought of Babs as lacking in the looks department, but being so close to Buster he had left his thoughts at that. She was his best friend's girlfriend and that kind of behavior was simply out of the question.
"Hmm," was all Babs gave him before sidestepping him and heading towards Buster's room.
"Why the cold shoulder, Barbara Ann?" Yakko asked, "Trust me, I've got enough cold waiting for me in New York."
"I wouldn't worry too much about that, I'm sure you've got enough chorus girls to keep you warm," Babs said, not even sparing him a glance.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Yakko snapped.
Babs cast him a knowing look over her shoulder. Even in the dim light, her blue eyes were steely sharp. "Don't play stupid, Warner. As if you haven't slept with half of Broadway by now."
"Oh give me a break. You don't even know what you're talking about," Yakko shot back, wondering why she was making him so angry so fast. And then remembered suddenly: he had never called Rebecca.
Babs stopped, spinning around on the spot to face him. Her hands snapped to her hips as she glared at him. "Oh, I don't, huh? You think that Fifi and I don't talk?"
What? That was out of left field. What did Fifi have to do with anything?
"Fifi?" Yakko blurted.
"Yeah. Fifi. It's shocking you don't remember," Babs spit back, her voice dripping with malevolent sarcasm.
"Babs, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, I haven't talked to Fifi since I left – "
"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" Babs cried, throwing her hands in the air, "You really don't remember, do you? Unbelievable. You guys are all the same – a bunch of spoiled pricks."
"What the hell are you – oh," Yakko finished lamely. It had just dawned on him exactly what Babs was referring to. Shit.
"Yeah, oh," Babs mimicked nastily, "You take Fifi out right before you go to New York, then you just leave her high and dry? You never planned on calling her, you knew it the whole time. She was crushed, and you didn't care at all. You changed, Warner. And to think I used to like you."
Babs turned on her heel, and took two steps before glaring at him over her shoulder once more. "Nice Bugs Bunny underwear," she mocked, then marched off to Buster's room.
"It was dark when I put them on!" Yakko yelped, waving his fist and well aware that he looked and sounded like an idiot.