Chapter 3: The Viewing
It was unusually blustery for Burbank on the day of Slappy's viewing. This was odd. Most days the weather was the only stable thing about Burbank. It barely rained. There was hardly ever a breeze. Today, however, the wind was strong enough to cause neck problems. It was certainly strong enough to make Wakko's tie flip up and repeatedly whip him in the face. Grumbling and smoothing his tie down for the umpteenth time, Wakko supposed that this sort of day was a fitting send-off for Slappy. A catch you off guard, surprisingly violent, but very spirited kind of day.
They had just just arrived at the funeral home. Wakko, his brother and sister, Buster and Babs had all squeezed into Buster's car and spoke delicately for the drive over. The parked in front of a small, white building with a little pond and garden in the lawn. When they drew near to the entrance, everyone was quiet. Even Yakko. A somber looking goose toon in a black suit was standing at the doorway. Watching them approach, he lifted up a clipboard, pen poised in his feathery hand.
"Names?" he asked, his voice managing to be nasally and deep at the same time.
"You need our names? What is this, a restaurant?" Buster snapped. Glancing at him, Wakko noticed the bags under his eyes. Buster apparently had not slept well – he had been barking at Babs all morning.
"This is a closed service, sir. In life, Madam Squirrel enjoyed her privacy, thus, only certain guests are permitted to attend," the goose replied, looking down his beak at Buster.
Wakko gulped, suddenly deciding that he didn't like the goose one bit, when Yakko leaned over and whispered, "I don't think Jacob Marley likes Buster very much." They glanced at each other, each of them hiding a smirk. While he was still gun shy about expressing nearly any positive emotion during a funeral, Wakko was sure that Slappy would have appreciated that joke anyway.
Glaring at both of the older boys, Babs stepped past Buster, muttering, "I told you it was private, remember?" and handing the goose her ID. The rest of them followed her lead, with Wakko and Dot giving him their JTAP cards. The goose looked at them closely, occasionally glancing up to scrutinize their faces, then analyzing his clipboard, before finally allowing them to pass.
"Like he couldn't recognize us," Buster mumbled as they walked into the lobby.
For how strongly the weather reminded Wakko of Slappy, the inside of the funeral parlor most certainly did not. The lighting was soft against the pastel walls, while flowers spilled out of vases in nearly every corner. It smelled funny, too sweet, like a perfume gone stale. Walking ahead of him were Yakko and Dot; in their dark fur and outfits, they contrasted sharply with the pale room. Beyond the lobby he could hear voices speaking in low tones. When they turned the corner they were greeted with a small sea of faces. Most of them were toons, but a few humans dotted the crowd. With a slight jolt, Wakko already recognized quite a few of the attendees. The two Hip Hippos caught his eye almost immediately, as they seemed to be even fatter now than when he had left. Katie Kaboom and her family were by a pillar, speaking to Ralph and his wife. Foghorn Leghorn was chatting with Yosemite Sam, gesturing wildly, and Plotz was speaking with Spielberg. It was weird, seeing his old bosses again, and for a split second Wakko felt like he should make himself look busy by pretending to read a script. That had been his tactic on set and on the lot, though it was mainly used to avoid Plotz.
Yakko, seeming unable to contain his inner socialite, had already greeted several old friends and costars, including Rita and Runt, Calamity, and Pinky and Brain, who sat on his shoulders as they spoke.
"Scratchy!"
Dot rushed forward to hug Otto van Scratchensniff, knocking the wind out of him in a loud "Ooomf!" He coughed, gasped, recovered, and then patted her on the head. Wakko followed as his brother greeted Scratchensniff as well, though with a bit more subtlety than Dot.
"Scratchy, I love what you did with your hair!" Yakko commented. Scratchensniff gave him an exasperated look. If anything, the doctor was more bald than before.
"Thank you, Yakko," Scratchensniff said in his thick accent, "It eez so good to see you all. But look at you kidses! Look how you've grown! Wakko, Dot, when I saw you last, you were not even deez tall!"
Scratchensniff held a hand somewhere around his waist and Wakko rolled his eyes. Jeez, he hadn't been that short. Maybe Scratchy was getting batty in his old age.
"It eez good of you to come," he continued, his voice becoming somber, "Slappy, she would have appreciated it."
"It was the least we could do," Yakko said. Then Yakko placed his hands on Wakko and Dot's heads, continuing, "Sibs, why don't you tell Scratchy about JTAP? Tell him about some of your classmates, their little showbiz brains are like a psychiatrist's playground."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Wakko didn't make any eye contact – he didn't really feel like talking about his classmates. They probably missed him as much as he missed them, which wasn't saying much. But, predictably, Dot leapt in and waxed eloquent about her classes, her grades, her friends, her recitals, her awards...Scratchensniff could barely keep up. He was nodding his head so much that Wakko was afraid it might pop off. Whatever. The more Dot talked, the less he had to. The last thing he needed was their crazy old costar playing psychiatrist on him and telling him he was messed up in the head.
"And then this one teacher told me I was like the lovechild of Fred Astaire and Barbara Streisand, and even though I completely disagree, I was still really flattered – "
Dot was babbling like a fountain. God, she was getting to be just as bad as Yakko. And she had already surpassed him in the ego department. While Yakko's ego was nothing to scoff at, he could usually be knocked down a few pegs. Not Dot. According to her, this was her world and he and Yakko and everyone else were just living in it. And it was getting worse the older she got; yeah, the whole "I'm the cute one" act had been kind of charming when she was little, but now it was magnified and incredibly annoying. Most of the time Wakko just wished he could yell at her and tell her that she was only thirteen, she still had a lot to learn, and she wasn't nearly as awesome as she thought she was. But if he did that, Yakko would probably make him eat his tail. Yakko unashamedly adored Dot, and his doting ways only fueled her fire.
Tuning out Dot's babbling, Wakko gazed around the parlor. Buster and Babs were talking with a bunch of their old costars, some old-looking bunny inksplot toon he didn't recognize was standing in a corner, some of their old producers were chatting in low tones...for a private viewing, the place was packed. Just then a small crowd parted, and Wakko sucked in his breath: behind them was the coffin. It was closed, but a large picture of Slappy with her nephew, Skippy, sat on top of it. His throat felt tight, and for the first time since they had received the news Wakko felt the urge to cry. For probably the hundredth time Wakko wondered how she died. When he had asked Yakko, he told him that he wished he knew too. Swallowing a few times, Wakko forced himself not to think about it too much, and continued to study the coffin. Surrounding it were even more flowers and, appropriately, walnuts. Part of Wakko was glad that the coffin was closed. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Slappy completely still.
"And what about you, Wakko? You like school, yah?"
Wakko spun around. He hadn't even noticed that Dot had ceased her exposition. She and Scratchensniff were both staring at him.
"Uh, well, the classes are…really good," he said, trying to think of something nice to say.
"As you can see, New York really brought out the poet in him," Yakko said, nudging him. Wakko glared up at his brother. Just because Yakko could talk the ink out of a toon didn't mean Wakko had to. Besides, if he was really honest about his classmates at JTAP, Wakko wasn't sure Yakko would like what he heard.
"Go on, Wakko, I am listening," Scratchensniff said, smiling.
Wakko glared at him too. Lie, say anything, just get this old geezer off your tail –
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please take your seats, we are about to begin," the old goose announced suddenly.
A small murmur rippled through the crowd as they shuffled to their seats, a colorful herd of fur, feathers, and skin wrapped up in dark clothing. Wakko sighed with relief and followed Yakko to their seats, almost glad to use a wake as an excuse to avoid discussing his social life with and old costar. Almost.
Yakko rubbed is temples. It was surreal, sitting here, listening to a minister ramble off impersonal details about someone he had known so well. Fill-in-the-blank phrases like "zest for life" and "a friend to all" did not do Slappy justice. The minister neglected to mention that if you gained her loyalty, she'd fight for you until the end, or that she kept a few bombs in her purse ("for easy access"), or that she had Clark Gable's signature on the underside of her mallet.
No, this speech was just a glossy finish over the real, rough thing. As such, Yakko felt his attention wander, a habit he'd normally attribute to Wakko. His brother was sitting docilely next to him, slouching a bit, fidgeting with his tie. On his other side was Dot, whose eyes were glistening. Reaching over, he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. Then he chose to pull his gaze away: seeing her upset was only going to make him more upset than he already was.
But Dot wasn't the only one in tears. All around him Yakko could hear sniffles. They had been growing in frequency as the wake progressed. Hearing a particularly loud sniff, Yakko looked over Wakko's head. It was Babs, who was sitting next Buster. Straightening in his chair, Yakko peeked at her between the curtains of Buster's blue ears. She was staring straight ahead, listening to the minister but not watching him. There were tears in her eyes, but they hadn't fallen yet. Frowning, Yakko remembered their conversation from the night before. It was infuriating. Babs had no clue what she was talking about. True, he had taken Fifi out on a date shortly before he left with no intention of pursuing her. But he had been doing the girl a favor. Fifi had been after him for years, she was begging him for a date once she found out he was leaving. When he gently tried to turn her down, she started crying. That had been the kiss of death. He hated when girls cried. Whenever it happened, particularly with Dot, he would throw himself in front of a train if it would make them happy. So, in a panic, he agreed to a date, a single date, with Fifi. She had dried up immediately, leaving Yakko to wonder if he'd been had.
It had gone well enough. Fifi was a bit too flighty for his taste, too concerned with fashion, and harbored an unhealthy obsession with celebrities. She was a celebrity for crying out loud, what could possibly be so interesting about other ones? But he had treated her to a nice dinner, paid, escorted her home. He had thought he had made it quite clear that that was where it ended; he was moving across the country for an indefinite amount of time, and he wasn't a long distance type of guy. Admittedly, Yakko had thrown on the theatrics a bit: he was devastated that it would never work, if only he didn't have to move, it would be so, so hard to find another girl like her. What Yakko hadn't said was that it wouldn't even work if he wasn't moving, but Fifi didn't have to know that. They had parted with Yakko assuming Fifi knew where she stood.
Well, apparently he had assumed wrong, Yakko thought with a scowl. How was he supposed to know that Fifi was a headcase? Or, for that matter, how was he supposed to know that Babs was stewing in her own pot of dislike for him for the past two years? While they had never been terribly close, he had always considered Babs a friend. And what was with that comment about him sleeping with half of New York? Damn ridiculous.
People had started to call him a girl chaser during Animaniacs, right around the time he had hit puberty and discovered the opposite sex. He had never really appreciated that, or the fact that it was exaggerated on the show for comedic affect, but he rolled with it. But somehow it had ballooned into this big thing, this huge judgment of his character that was embarrassing and damaging. Yeah, he did have a…thing…for girls. But c'mon, he was a soon-to-be nineteen-year-old guy – wouldn't it be weirder if he wasn't into girls? Why did everyone view him as some hormone-addled man-beast? Not that he really cared what people thought of him, but didn't they understand that he was raising two young teenagers that he didn't want to grow up with the wrong impression of him, or make the wrong choices? God, why did Babs have to say that?
Why was this bothering him so much?
Suddenly Yakko noticed that Babs was staring at him, her eyes narrowed. A moment later he realized that he had not only forgotten he had been staring at her, but he was also scowling. He quickly looked away. If she pestered him about it, he'd chalk it up to insanity brought on by grief.
The minister was still droning on. Having the feeling that Slappy would have malleted the guy by now, Yakko looked beyond the man and at the flower and walnut-encrusted coffin. It worried him that the coffin was closed.
They think there was foul play involved.
Every time he recalled what Buster had told him, Yakko felt an unpleasant squirm in his stomach. A morbid corner of him had been hoping to see Slappy today, to maybe give him some clue as to what happened. But that had been a ridiculous notion. Besides, it didn't matter anyway, because the coffin was closed…which only added weight to Buster's theory –
Yakko shook his head. It was childish, jumping to these insane conclusions. The closed coffin was a coincidence, nothing more. Slappy had died a completely natural death, and Shirley was simply a loon after all.
Right?
Everyone around him was standing up – the minister had finished his wake. The sounds of open weeping dotted the room. Dot and Babs were brushing tears out of their fur, Buster was concentrating on the floor, and Wakko exhaled shakily as he got to his feet. Feeling slightly disconnected from his body, Yakko got to his feet as well, joining the procession that was extending their condolences to the family. Ahead of him, Yakko spotted Skippy for the first time. The boy had experienced an undeniable growth spurt; he was nearly as tall as Wakko despite being a good two years younger, and had the gangly appearance of someone who would eventually grow to be very tall. But Skippy's normally sunny face was stolen away by one overwhelmed with anguish. Tears soaked his fur, and his eyes were quite red.
Dot must have spotted him too, because she whimpered and bounced anxiously on her feet.
"Hold still Dot, you'll get to talk to him," Yakko murmured, placing a hand between her ears.
"He looks so upset," she whispered, sounding pained. Yakko said nothing. She was right.
As they approached Skippy, Yakko felt his heart sink. The only present family members were Skippy and a very old squirrel who introduced himself as Slappy's third cousin. Skippy had even fewer known blood relatives than he did, and that was really saying something. And, by the looks of it, the third cousin didn't have too many years left to spare. Did this kid have anyone to fall back on? Or would Skippy wind up raising himself, like he had? Yakko frowned. That was not something he'd really wish on anyone. He had been blessed enough to have Wakko and Dot, and they alone had always made his life worth living and made him forget about the hardships of growing up without a parent, without guidance. But what did Skippy have? Skippy was an only child.
Yakko shuddered at the thought.
When it was their turn, Skippy caught sight of him and choked out, "Aw Yakko, you guys didn't have to come all the way out here – "
"Don't be ridiculous, Skippy," Yakko said, giving the boy a quick hug, "We're here for ya bud, hang in there, okay?"
Skippy whispered "Thanks," before Dot threw herself at him, wrapping him in a very tight hug. Yakko heard her mention something about talking to him later as she moved on, letting Wakko give Skippy an awkward handshake. They left Skippy then, Dot looking wistfully behind her, and joined Buster and and Babs. They weren't looking at each other.
"Poor Skippy…I wonder what we can do for the kid…" Babs murmured, watching the boy hug Scratchensniff.
"He's a tough kid, he'll pull through," Buster said with casual confidence. Yakko thought that this was a rather bold assumption to make – today was probably the first time that Buster had even spoken to Skippy.
"I think it's gonna be really rough for him, but he was raised by Slappy. Skippy's probably more ready to handle the real world than all of us combined," Yakko said, watching Dot. She looked like she was on the verge of crying again, and there were already way too many crying girls in this room for his liking.
"I'm gonna go talk to him," Dot said, then disappeared into the sea of black before anyone could answer.
"Who's Skippy gonna live with now?" Wakko asked quietly.
"Eh…" Yakko looked to Buster and Babs for help, but they shrugged feebly. He turned back to Wakko. "You know what sib, I'm not really su – "
"Oh look, Big Splotch and his little splotch deigned to come back to little ol' Burbank," boomed an obnoxious voice.
Babs groaned, but the rest of them turned to see Montana Max striding up to them in a crisp Armani suit, his hands shoved in his pockets and a sneer on his face. He had barely grown, Yakko noticed with a smirk. If he was as tall as Wakko, he was lucky. He was bulkier now, kind of like a big block. Between that and his slicked back hair Yakko thought he looked like a mobster.
"Good to see you too, Max. How I missed your dulcet tones," Yakko drawled.
Max's eyes darted between Yakko and Buster. "Hey Rabbit, I bet it's nice having your boyfriend back," he said to Buster.
"Who invited you?" Buster asked, not bothering to be polite.
"Don't be silly, Buster," Babs said, straightening her skirt, "I'm sure he's only here because he owns the funeral home."
"That's right, woman," Max said, and Babs blinked – she had clearly been joking – before he continued, "by the way, what's it like being the beard for Bluebell and his Broadway boyfriend?"
"Shut up, asshole," Buster growled, but Yakko stepped between them.
"Look Max, as timeless as your wit is, I couldn't help but wonder if you had a point, or if you were just trying to show off your big boy suit," Yakko said dryly, taking advantage of his height and leaning over Max.
Max glared up at him, snarling, "You need to get that hole in your face fixed, Warner. If you must know, I'm here on business."
"So viewings count as business retreats now? Hmm, must have missed that memo," Yakko replied. He wondered if Slappy would care if he happened to punch Montana Max in the face at her funeral. Probably not.
"That's fascinating Max. No, really, your horrible lack of respect is truly interesting. Please tell me more," Buster snapped.
"Don't encourage him," Babs hissed, but Max merely gave them an oily grin. Jerking his thumb at Yakko and Wakko he said, "I actually wanted to take this opportunity to speak with inkblot one and inkblot two over here."
"Flattered," Yakko said flatly.
"You see that loser over there, the rabbit? Do you know who he is?" Max asked, pointing to a far corner. In spite of himself, Yakko looked. A black and white inksplot style rabbit was standing in the corner, his eyes darting around, making no effort to speak to anyone. He looked incredibly shabby, as though he had stopped taking care of himself; the rabbit's ears were tattered, and his fur was matted and dirty. There was something vaguely familiar about him to Yakko, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"I don't know, what's so special about him? Is he the only one here who gives a rat's ass about what you're about to say?" Yakko asked. He noticed that Wakko smirked.
"You really don't know who he is? Lord, why they didn't hold you back a year in tooniversity is beyond me," Max scoffed, "That, children, is Oswald, as in Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. He starred in Disney's first shorts until everyone realized he sucked and replaced him with Mickey."
His memory clicking into place, Yakko suddenly remembered the toon from his toon history classes. Oswald had been the star of a few of his own cartoons under Disney starting back in the 1920s, but had contract issues with Disney and Universal and apparently had been down on his luck ever since. Another has-been in Toontown. Yakko had always tried to keep a mental catalog of famous inksplot toons – it was a rare event when another toon even remotely resembled him or his siblings.
"Thank you for the history lesson, Max, it was thrilling," Yakko said.
Max shot him a glare. "Shut up for once. I was wondering what you knew about him. All you ink rejects are related, you've gotta know something."
"Wow, that was delightfully racist of you," Babs said, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, why don't you ask us while you're at it, since all rabbits are probably related too," Buster added.
"You hillbillies can go date your cousins, I've got business to take care of," Max said haughtily, then turned back to Yakko, "So what do you know?"
Yakko clasped his hands tightly behind his back. It was a habit he had picked up whenever he was nervous or angry as a way to disguise that his hands were shaking. While he appreciated that Babs and Buster had stood up for him, he hated to admit that Max was probably right. As nasty as the stereotype was, the fact remained that most inksplot toons were related in some way. If you really wanted to pick things apart, all American toons were related to inksplots, albeit very much removed. But chances were that Oswald was a distant relative. Unfortunately, Yakko would never know – he scarcely knew who his own mother was, let alone extended relatives. But the last thing he wanted was for Max to point this out in front of Wakko. Not only was it embarrassing, but Yakko was beginning to suspect that he might lose his cool.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Yakko said, voice thick with sarcasm, "I don't know a thing about that Oswald character other than the fact that he already looks like he has more manners than you."
"Pathetic insult, useless answer," Max said, yawning, "You splotches are dumber than I thought. That punk over there, Oswald, is a complete wash up. He hasn't gotten a gig in years, he's been evicted from his last five apartments in Toontown – I would know, I own them – and more than half the time he's two sheets to the wind. I mean, he's a Class C for Christ's sake. Probably a D is he could affor to take a new test. He'd be the laughing stock of Toontown if anyone actually gave a shit who he was. Honestly I don't even know why he's here – "
"Funny, was thinking the same thing about you," Yakko quipped, and Buster snickered.
"Max, if you've been wasting our time for the last fifteen minutes to insult some guy we don't even know – " Babs started, but Max cut her off.
"I know it's hard for the female brain to focus on something for more than one minute, so bear with me," Max said, "As far as I know, the guy's flat broke. Now, recently, I've had my mind set on ToonGO – you four know what ToonGO, is right? Oh who am I kidding, of course you don't. ToonGO is the only toon operated petroleum facility in this half of the country. I could do with a small expansion to the Max empire, and ToonGO seems like a fitting choice. So I made a bid, right, expecting to be signing it over by the afternoon. But, to my surprise, someone placed a higher bid. In goddamn cash. Which is aggravating, as you know, as I haven't been outbid on anything since I was thirteen, and that was only because of a typo made by my idiot secretary – I fired her, don't worry. So naturally, I was wondering who was foolish enough to bid against me. I got my legal team on it and it turns out that it was this joker over here, Oswald."
"A tragic tale indeed," Yakko drawled.
"Yeah, I'll write you a letter when I decide to care," Buster added.
Ignoring them, Max continued while he studied his nails, "I just want to find out what that loser's up to before I humiliate him financially and publicly. It would be even better if I could call him out on whatever undoubtedly illegal scheme he pulled to front all the dough. There's no way that chunk of gutter scum just had that kind of money sitting around, just waiting to buy a freaking petroleum company. If he did, then he should have paid his damn rent."
"My heart bleeds for you, Monty," Wakko said suddenly, and Yakko laughed.
"Why, he speaks!" Max scoffed, slapping a hand to his forehead in feigned shock, "And here I thought he'd gone mute."
"Wish I could say the same for you, Shorty," Yakko said, an edge to his voice. The spoiled brat could say what he wanted to him, but the instant Max targeted one of his siblings, he was going down.
"Take your comedy routine somewhere else, I'm not in the mood to put up with your bullshit today Max. In case you forgot, we're at a viewing. Not all of us are here to increase our stock value," Buster said, turning his back to the boy.
They were all following Buster's example when Max said in a low, maliciously jubilant voice, "Why, that's right, we are at a viewing! I almost forgot. Excuse me, I'm gonna go take a peek inside the old geezer's coffin."
It was like a fire had been lit inside him. Yakko whipped around, as did the other three, a combination of outrage and horror on his face.
"Don't you dare," Babs hissed.
Yakko took an aggressive step forward. "So help me, if you even lay a finger on that coffin, it's gonna be your funeral too – "
"What're ya gonna do, Broadway Fairy? Sing an aria at me?" Max scoffed.
"He won't do anything, 'cause I'll get to him first," Buster threatened, his ears laying flat.
With a smile on his face that made the fur on Yakko's neck stand up, Max leaned in and whispered, "But aren't you a teensy bit curious? I mean, from what I heard, she's really messed up."
Feeling like someone punched the air out of his lungs, Yakko quickly glanced at the others. Wakko looked confused and a bit troubled, but Buster and Babs had similar looks of shock and trepidation, that they didn't want to listen to another word from Max's mouth, but at the same time, they needed to know.
"What the hell have you heard?" Buster demanded, his voice a hoarse rush in an effort to keep quiet.
"Oh, I don't know, I think I might, how did you put it, take my comedy routine somewhere else?" Max teased.
In one swift movement, Babs' hand shot out like a snake and she grasped a handful of Max's suit. "Tell us what you heard or I'll pie every inch of this hideous suit," she snapped.
Max grabbed her wrist and roughly jerked it away. "You've got to teach your woman to behave in polite society, Bluebell," he sniffed.
Babs whipped her hand out of his, looking as though she was about to foam at the mouth. Buster's face was coloring, but Yakko stepped in before his friend could make a move.
"And you have to teach women to be willing to come within thirty feet of you," Yakko retorted, "Now if you don't fess up right now I'm going back to New York and telling everyone on Wall Street to bail out on your stock. Don't think I won't."
Montana Max's dark eyes scanned his face, scrutinizing every inch of him. Despite his reported millions, Max did not toy around with his funds, no matter how empty or ridiculous the threat. Yakko met his gaze evenly, refusing to blink. Beside him, he could feel Wakko's eyes switching back and forth between him and the stocky boy in front of them.
"Fine. I'll tell you, Warner, but you're not gonna like what happened to your precious old maid," Max hissed.
"Wakko, go away for a minute," Yakko ordered, his eyes still fixed on Max.
Wakko looked up at him sharply. "What? No way!"
"Just do it Wakko."
"No, I want to hear it too, why can't I – "
"Better do what Daddy says," Max trilled.
"Shut up," Yakko and Wakko barked simultaneously.
"Forget it Yak, just let him stay," Buster said stiffly, still looking hard at Max.
With an angry snort, Yakko arched an eyebrow at Wakko before turning back to Max. He didn't know what Max was going to say, but something told him that he didn't want Wakko to hear it. It was his deepest desire that Wakko and Dot remain oblivious to whatever really happened to Slappy. Judging by how much it had unsettled him, he didn't want them to have to deal with those questions or fears.
Watching the four of them for a moment, Max's eyes lingered on Yakko's face as his own split with a devilish grin.
"You wanna know what I heard? I heard her body was mutilated. Chemical burns from head to toe. If you looked at her right now all you'd see was a lumpy pile of flesh."
Yakko could practically hear the breath being sucked out of the others' lungs. The rest of the funeral parlor seemed very far away, the sounds of the other attendees were muffled and distant in his ears.
"Where did you hear that?" Yakko demanded, the first of them to find his voice.
"I got connections," Max answered, grinning. His voice was like an oil slick.
Babs suddenly stepped forward, her ears flattened against her head aggressively.
"Max, the only reason I haven't introduced my mallet to your head is because I, unlike you, want to be considerate of Slappy and her family," Babs said, placing her hands on her hips, "So if I were you, I'd clear out of here real quick, before I do something I'm gonna regret."
"You want to be considerate to her and her family? What, you mean all two of them?" Max retorted.
That was it. Something snapped inside him. Not conscious of what he was doing, Yakko made a sudden move for Max, who went from smug to panicked at the sight of Yakko lunging at him. But before he could reach Max, before he could punch every pore of his greasy face in, before he could make him regret ever setting foot inside the funeral parlor, two arms wrapped themselves around his chest and pulled him back. Yakko struggled, but the arms tightened, and he heard Buster whisper in his ear, "Not here dude, we're gonna get busted!"
Beside him, Yakko realized that Wakko had made a grab for Max too, but Babs was holding him back by the collar of his suit. Wakko looked positively livid, a look that was even angrier than the one he usually reserved for Dot. A look that was unfamiliar on his little brother's face. Yakko took several deep breaths, calming himself so he could calm Wakko. It would only make things worse if they were both wound up.
Deciding it was safe to let go of Yakko, Buster rounded on Max. "Get the hell out!" he hissed.
Max, who had taken several steps backwards, kept his distance but cooed back, "You can't kick me out, I own the place. If anything, I should have them throw you jokers out of here…violence at a funeral. Tsk tsk."
Yakko slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. As he dialed, he muttered, "Calling my stock broker buddies…"
His eyes widening for a moment, Max clenched his fists at his sides. "Fine. I'm leaving. You guys are more boring than the corpse anyway."
With that, Max disappeared into the crowd, a few of whom were staring at them. Yakko, who didn't have any stock broker buddies, stopped dialing random numbers and snapped his phone shut. He looked to his friends, who were frowning deeply, then to Wakko, who stared back at him with wide, black eyes.
If there was anything that could make a funeral worse, it was Montana Max.
Skippy had not said anything for several minutes. He merely sat, hands folded in his lap, staring at the floor. Dot sat beside him on the plush bench, watching his face for any signs of…well, anything.
Dot had met Skippy on their first day of toon education classes on the Warner Brothers lot. Most young toons went to tooniversities the same way human children went through grade school. The school on Tiny Toons, Acme Loo, was actually a pretty accurate portrayal of tooniversities, though with less commercial breaks and a lot more homework. There was a very prestigious tooniversity on the Warner Brothers lot that was reserved mainly for its stars and students that had been hand selected by other stars. Dot and both her brothers had attended it, as well as every toon under the age of eighteen who was on a show.
She had been so nervous on her first day. Up until that point, all Dot had known was her brothers and the other toon children at the orphanage. That had been her life, and she had been fine with it. But then they had been spotted by a scout – her memories of it were a little hazy, but she knew that Yakko and his big mouth were involved somehow – and the next thing she knew she was sitting in a classroom filled with a bunch of wild, laughing kids she had never met. Not only that, but it had been the first time in her life that she was separated from her brothers. They were older, and thus placed in different classes. She felt lost without them, as though she had forgotten how to speak, and when the other kids greeted her she barely managed a shaky wave.
So she sat in the back corner, praying that no one would even remember to look for her there, when a bright, buck-toothed face popped into her view.
"Hi there! Are you Dot?" the squirrel boy had asked.
"I…yes, that's me," she had replied.
The boy immediately took the seat next to her and began pulling books out of his backpack as he chattered, "My name's Skippy. My aunt Slappy told me about you and your brothers – you met her, right? She says you guys are a lot of fun. Is this your first day?"
Dot had nodded.
"Cool! Did you know our teacher is Sylvester? Sometimes Tweety comes into help, he's really funny. Do you have a book? Do you want to borrow mine?"
After having processed all his questions, Dot hesitantly nodded. Skippy eagerly scooted his desk over and laid the book between the two of them, pointing out where they were in the chapter and what they had covered before.
From that day on, they had been inseparable.
A few weeks later she and Skippy had adopted Randy Beaman into their little clan – that had been his real name, even though he just talked about his "friend" Randy Beaman on the show – and the three of them couldn't have been closer. It had been hard, when she and her brothers moved. Dot remembered crying as she hugged Randy and Skippy goodbye, crying on the plane, and then crying for the first week in New York. But they had kept in touch. She called them nearly every week, but Randy's calls had become increasingly infrequent, until one day he told her that he and his family were moving to South Dakota and she had only heard from him once since then. But Skippy had talked to her without fail. But lately, what with classes and homework and friends, Dot had to admit she'd been a little lackluster about calling him back. With a guilty squirm she tried to remember the last time she spoke with him. Around Halloween, maybe? That was weeks ago. But Skippy had never said anything about Slappy being sick or something. As far as she knew, Slappy had been completely fine.
Skippy sniffled a little bit, and Dot put an arm around his shoulder. She knew that Skippy had loved his aunt. She had never asked him about the rest of his family, like his parents, just as he had never asked about hers. Skippy had Slappy, and she had Yakko and Wakko, and that was all that mattered. So for him to lose Slappy…she shivered. Dot didn't know what she'd do without her brothers. Then again, maybe losing Wakko for a few days wouldn't be the end of the world.
"Talk to me whenever you want to, Skip, I can stay here all day," Dot said, trying to adopt the soothing tone that Yakko used with her when she was upset.
Gulping back a few sobs, Skippy whispered, "I just…I don't know what I'm gonna do."
Feeling like she was going to cry again too, Dot bit down on her lip.
"Where've you been staying?" she asked.
"Nutsy, that guy who was with me before. He's Slappy's cousin."
"He seems…nice," Dot said delicately. Actually he had seemed like a cranky, bitter old squirrel who didn't have all his nuts in his basket, but this was one of those cases where a little white lie was appropriate.
"He's okay," Skippy muttered. That was another thing about Skippy – he would never, ever say anything bad about a person. He could have just been robbed and he would think the thief just needed money to feed his family.
Dot gave his shoulders a quick squeeze. "Maybe you could live with us in New York for a little bit. I don't think Yakko would mind, and there's room in the apartment – "
"That's okay Dot, really," Skippy sighed. He took another deep breath, then broke out in fresh sobs.
"Oh, Skippy, don't…" Dot murmured, hugging him fully this time. God, now she was going to cry…
"I j-just, I just d-d-don't understand," Skippy stuttered between sobs.
"I don't think anyone does, Skip."
"No, I mean I d-don't get how it h-happened!" Skippy cried, becoming hysterical, "She w-was fine that n-night, and then the next morning she was g-gone!"
"Skip, calm down – "
Skippy swallowed gulps of air as he spoke. "She t-tucked me in to bed. She t-told me she had to go t-talk to Minerva, but she'd be b-ack. Then I h-heard her l-leave. I f-fell asleep, but then I w-woke up when the police got there. They said, t-they said they, they, they f-found her – "
They sat on the bench, crying, Dot just holding Skippy until he got himself under control once more.
"N-no one will tell me w-what happened. Don't I deserve to know?" Skippy whispered.
"You do. But do you think that would make you feel better?"
"Wouldn't you want to know?" Skippy asked quietly.
Dot stared at Skippy's bushy tail as she thought. The truthful answer was yes, but something about what Skippy just told her made her uneasy. Maybe they were hiding the truth about what happened for a reason. A good reason. Or maybe she just watched too many thriller movies. Either way, judging by the state that Skippy was in, she wasn't sure if her friend could handle it. While Skippy was a dear friend, she wouldn't exactly place him in the "tough" category. But there was still a gnawing bit of curiosity inside her, and if it would placate Skippy for the moment, she'd do just about anything.
"Well, why don't we try and find out then?" Dot encouraged. She slid off her seat and took Skippy's hands, gently pulling him into a standing position. His hands had gotten so much bigger than hers. "We'll ask around, there's a lot of people here, someone's bound to know something."
Seeming incapable of disagreeing with anything right now, Skippy followed her morosely. This was a half-baked plan at best, but Dot hoped that getting Skippy focused on something else would help. She asked him a few cursory questions about what he'd been up to lately, trying to ease her conscious about not checking in with him more often. But when they approached their old friends and costars with questions about Slappy, most of them either had no idea or became incredibly uncomfortable, telling them that they were "too young." Getting frustrated, Dot began to ask strangers, who mostly told her and Skippy to leave well enough alone.
"This is ridiculous, it's not like I'm five," she muttered to herself, then turned to Skippy. He looked, if possible, even more dejected than before. Starting to become slightly desperate, Dot peered around for someone, anyone, that they hadn't asked. She spotted Bugs Bunny…well, she spotted his gray ears poking above the crowd, anyway. He was surrounded by so many people that she didn't even bother to approach him. Then, she saw someone: a black-and white rabbit standing in the corner. He looked like he was the same inksplot style that she was – in fact, his style looked so old that he might be one of those drawn toons, not born naturally like most toons these days.
"C'mon, let's ask this guy," Dot said, marching over to the rabbit. The closer she got to him, the more Dot realized that the rabbit had some bad B.O. going on. Jeez, when was the last time he showered? And ew, was that dandruff on his shoulders?
The rabbit didn't seem to notice them at first. He was furiously scribbling on a notepad, occasionally glancing up at the crowd. Dot and Skippy stood there, waiting. She even started tapping her foot. Finally, Dot cleared her throat loudly. Startled, the rabbit looked down at them, then blinked with shock when his eyes settled on Dot.
"Hey there, my name's Dot, and this is my friend Skippy," Dot said, reaching out her hand.
The rabbit's wide eyes shot to her hand, then back up to her face. His lips were moving as though they were forming words, but no sound came out. He slipped the notepad in his pocket.
"Oooookay," Dot drawled, "You seem like a charming gentleman. I was actually wondering if you knew anything about – "
"You had a television show," the rabbit said suddenly. His voice was squeaky and little high pitched, much like Mickey Mouse's. He was looking at her as though he had discovered a new species.
Dot rolled her eyes. Someone else who wanted an autograph, or an in to get their own show.
"Yes, I had a show, it was a lot of fun, and no I will not sing 'I'm Cute,'" she rattled off. Usually she had a lot more patience with fans, but right now she had a crying boy next to her and this rabbit's breath really reeked. "Now, back to my question – "
"You were younger?" the rabbit asked.
" – I was wondering if you knew about…what?" Dot said. What was this guy on?
"You were younger, when you had your show?" the rabbit pressed.
Dot raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, duh, we're talking about the show I had, in the past tense."
The rabbit was starting to look feverish. "And you have brothers?"
"Uh, yes…" Dot said. She glanced at Skippy, who shrugged a little bit. Or maybe it was twitch, it was hard to tell.
"May I meet them – please?" the rabbit requested, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning close to her. It was all Dot could do not to gag at the smell.
"Yeah, anything if it means you'll take a biiiiig step backwards," Dot said, pinching her nose shut.
The rabbit nodded and jumped back, landing on his two large feet. Eying him warily, Dot turned to scan the crowd for her brothers. Figures he'd want to meet them too. Everyone loved Yakko and Wakko. And of course she'd have to be stuck with this creep, at a funeral no less, while she went and fetched them like a maid. Now where were they?
"There they are," Skippy said as though he had heard her thoughts. He had grown so much that he could see over the crowd much better than she could.
"Alright, c'mon…eh, what was your name?" Dot asked as she walked in Yakko and Wakko's direction.
"Oswald," the rabbit said quickly.
"Okay Oswald, let me introduce you to my lovely brothers," Dot said. Yakko and Wakko were huddled together with Buster. She tapped Yakko on the shoulder. He turned, his eyes darting from her to Skippy and then to Oswald, and his brow furrowed.
"Yakko, Wakko, this is Oswald," Dot said with little enthusiasm, "he wanted to meet you. Oswald, Yakko and Wakko."
Her brothers stuck out their hands, but Oswald didn't shake them. Instead, he said immediately, "You're both taller!"
Yakko and Wakko shared a look before Yakko said, "I'll have to add that to my list of conversation starters…and yes, we are taller, that tends to happen to kids when they grow up. Nice to meet you too."
Still watching Oswald, Wakko leaned over and whispered in Dot's ear, "Why'd you bring this guy over? Trying to set us up on a date or something?"
"Shut up, he wanted to meet you, though I have no idea why he'd want to," Dot hissed back.
"So you say you've grown up?" Oswald continued, "A mother, another toon, she gave birth to you?"
"That's what they told me in health class," Yakko replied. Dot noticed an edge creeping into his voice that meant he was starting to get annoyed.
"So the premise of the show, the one that said you were drawn in the thirties…that was all a joke? Made up?" Oswald asked, wringing his hands.
Yakko glanced at Buster, who rolled his eyes. "Can't believe everything you see on TV, pal," Yakko said.
"I knew it! I knew you knew him!" boomed a loud voice.
Yakko, Wakko, Buster and all shared a collective groan. Oswald jumped. Dot and Skippy turned around to see Montana Max storming towards them.
"Thought you splotches would pull a fast one on me, huh?" Max accused, shoving a finger into Yakko's chest. "You're talking to him now – I thought you didn't know Oswald over here?"
Yakko delicately plucked Max's finger off of his chest, then flicked it away like he would a piece of lint. "Your powers of deduction are incredible, Max, but did it ever occur to you that we just met him now?" Yakko said dryly.
"Stuff it, oil stain," Max barked, then rounded on Oswald. "So, thought you'd offer a little friendly competition for ToonGO, did ya? I'd like to see where all that money's coming from, considering you didn't feel like using it to pay your damn rent ya freeloader!"
"It was my money, royalties, from my shorts – " Oswald spluttered.
"Royalties from your shorts? What a load of bull. No one's paying jack for your shorts, Class D!" Max jeered.
Oswald's ears shot straight up, and his face contorted with anger. "I am not a Class D!" he proclaimed. Dot assumed he was trying to go for fierce, but the squeaky voice kind of dampened the effect.
"Well you're certainly not a Class A," Max taunted back.
For a moment it looked like Oswald was going to hit Max. His shoulder jerked back in a rough motion, and his fists clenched. Max's eyes widened and he quickly jumped behind Yakko, pushing him in front like a shield. But Oswald seemed to gather himself. Straightening and jutting out his bottom lip, he muttered, "I have never been so offended…you young upstarts are all the same. No class."
With that, he turned around and promptly marched out of the parlor. Shoving Yakko aside, Max dashed after him, shouting, "You're up to something, rabbit! I'm gonna have the feds on your cotton-tailed ass!"
Dot and the others watched him leave. Shaking his head, Buster said sarcastically, "Well, that wasn't weird at all."
"I hope Max and John Hinckley Jr. over there get along, they'd be such an enchanting pair," Yakko muttered, staring off into the direction in which Oswald and Max had disappeared.
Just then Babs approached them, following their gazes. "Did I miss another one of Max's visits?" she asked.
"Yeah, except this time he made a new friend," Yakko said.
Babs cocked one ear up. "I see," she said, "anyway, if anyone has plans tonight, cancel them. We have a meeting to go to."
"A meeting? Are we back on Tiny Toons now? And what loser wants to have a meeting on a Saturday night?" Buster asked, crossing his arms.
"Bugs Bunny," Babs answered simply.