Chapter 9: Party Crashed
"Toontown's kidnapping streak continues. We have reports of eleven more missing toons, the homes of three of those toons show signs of breaking and entering. This weekend's surge in kidnapping has pushed the total missing persons to thirty-seven. Listeners, please travel in groups of three or more after eight p.m. and we urge you to increase your home safety measures…please stop by the Toontown Police Station and pick up a free pamphlet that describes ways for you to intruder-proof your home…"
"I'm turning this off, news like that won't make anyone feel better."
Wakko watched as Tress strode to the radio and flicked it off with a manicured nail. He was slightly ashamed to admit that, up until two weeks ago when he had begun physical therapy, he had been unaware that her name was actually Tress. He had always just called her by the name they had referred to her as on Animaniacs: Hello Nurse. When he had mentioned something in the car on the way to his first session about being excited to see Nurse, Yakko had turned around very slowly in his seat to look at him. Yakko had given him that quintessentially Yakko look – the one that begged the question, "God, really?" – and said flatly, "You know that's not her real name, right?" Then he agreed that he was also excited to see her. Very excited.
Speaking of whom, Wakko was sure his older brother would chew off his own right arm if it meant he could be in Wakko's position. After all, Yakko had all but passed out when Scratchensniff announced that Tress would be Wakko's physical therapist. Even now, as she sauntered back over to him, Wakko felt himself coloring slightly and had to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes focused on her face. God, he really was getting to be as bad as Yakko.
"Are you ready, Wakko?" Tress asked, holding out her hands.
Wakko nodded and cradled his elbow in her one hand and his palm in her other.
"We'll start with static stretching," Tress directed, but after the last two weeks Wakko had the routine memorized. She bent his hand down at the wrist, stretching the muscles in his forearm. Wakko breathed in and out with the stretches, growing bored with them already. His recovery was right on schedule; the doctor cleared him for physical therapy on the first day of May. He was thrilled – it had been a long, tedious two months. But the excitement of finally getting to do away with his sling had worn off pretty quickly, and now he was stuck doing repetitive exercises to get it back into shape. But, to borrow a phrase from Yakko, at least he had a lovely view.
"Okay sweetie, let's do some free weights. We'll start off with wrist curls, and then we'll do some forearm twists and some bicep work, does that sound good?" Tress asked.
Wakko nodded. They had done that every other day for the last two weeks, why would it be a problem now?
Tress brought over a pair of five pound hand weights from an opposite shelf and handed them to him. Wakko, who was bored before the weights were even in his hand, let his mind wander as Tress talked him through a set of tiny little wrist curls. It had been nearly two months since they'd moved back to Los Angeles and in many ways, it seemed as though nothing had changed. He and Dot had settled back into their school routines at WB Tooniversity; Wakko didn't mind it, but he wasn't sure if his classmates felt that way. Sure, they were happy to see him – Dizzy, Furball, Kalamity, they had all been friendly – but having missed the last two years meant that he missed an invite to any and all cliques that seemed to have sprouted like weeds. He couldn't even be part of the uncool kids – that clique had already been formed.
Dot didn't seem to have that problem, but then again, she had Skippy. Just like the old days they were inseparable in class, which Wakko had definitely teased her about and Dot had definitely screamed at him for it. Meanwhile, Yakko had been scooped up by Broadway LA within days of setting foot back in California, and was busy preparing for an upcoming production of Sweeney Toon. Wakko was excited – apparently this one was a total inkbath – and Yakko was excited for not having to deal with any "ignoramus ingénues" though Wakko didn't know what he meant by that. Still, Yakko said he was having fun even though he didn't see himself doing Broadway shows forever.
Wakko was excited to be able to use his arm again. He missed being able to do simple things, like squash and stretch, and run, and goof around. And maybe, if Yakko held up his end of the bargain, he could learn to drive. He already had his permit – you didn't need two arms to take the stupid written test – and Yakko had promised that if he got good grades he could get a driving tutor. Wakko thought that the bargaining on Yakko's part was rather childish but then again Yakko still thought he was nine-years-old.
At Tress's instruction he robotically switched exercises, this time pulling the weight behind his back. Yakko had joined him on his first physical therapy session. Whether it was because he wanted to make sure Wakko was okay or if he just wanted an excuse to see Tress was indecipherable. Now Yakko and Buster just dropped him off at the office before Yakko went to the lot to go hang out with Bugs. He had been spending a lot more time with his idol now, which Wakko was sure caused his brother to nearly crap his pants on a daily basis. And Dot was always with Skippy – no big loss there, but still – and Buster was always with Babs…arguing with her, but still with her. Who did that leave him with?
Once again, it looked like he was by himself.
"Wakko?"
Wakko jumped at the sound of his name. Tress was staring at him, looking slightly confused. No wonder Yakko liked her. He had a habit of only chasing after girls who had the brain activity of a squirrel.
"Uh, what?" Wakko mumbled.
"I said, are you ready to practice your squash and stretch?"
"Oh, right, yeah."
Hopping off the table, Wakko held out his arm and Tress took it in her soft hands.
"Tell me when you're ready Wakko," Tress said.
He nodded, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated. His arm trembled slightly before going soft and rubbery. "Okay," he muttered.
Holding his hand in a gentle but firm grip, Tress took a step backward. Wakko's arm stretched, taffy-like, as she took another step backward. With the third step he felt an uncomfortable tension in his arm and he did his best to hide a wince. Tress counted to five before stepping toward him, this time pushing his arm nearly back into his socket. There was more tension this time, and Wakko gasped and held his breath until Tress released his arm.
"Very good Wakko!" she encouraged, "When we first started you could only do one step, remember?"
Of course he remembered. It had been painful and embarrassing; he had sort of been expected to stretch his arm out right away. He'd been looking forward to it, actually. But Tress barely took one step back before he cried out in pain. Apparently your toon abilities could go stiff. Literally.
"How much 'til I'm back to normal?" Wakko pressed.
"A Class B toon at your age should be able to do six steps for ten seconds. We're making great progress Wakko, really, I'm impressed. Tomorrow I think we'll be able to do four steps!" Tress said, clapping her hands.
Wakko stared at Tress, then at his arm. He shouldn't have to do four. He should be able to do six now. This was pathetic. Even Dot could outdo him right now.
"Let's do another round," Tress instructed, "when your brother picks you up I'll go over the exercises with him again, that way you'll be able to do it at home starting next week."
Wakko nodded. Tress took his arm again. Her hands were calm and cool. Taking a deep breath, his arm went soft and Tress pulled again.
The lot buildings were a blur – he was a blur. His feet were feather light as they spun, barely touching the asphalt and yet propelling him forward at a classic toon sprint. Air was coming into his lungs in powerful gusts, his chest ballooning out with every breath. Faster, he thought, I want to go faster – I am going faster. And, as if someone had kickstarted his legs, Yakko bulleted down the path at an unnatural speed.
It was an amazing feeling, unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. He felt supernatural, not of this world, this was power, this was freedom, how could something so good be real? Within moments Yakko hurtled past a black blur; he smirked, but left his thoughts at that. He had the gray object in front of him to focus on. Focus. Concentration. Control. That's what Bugs had taught him, and that was exactly what was going to help him overtake the very same rabbit who was ahead of him.
Yakko concentrated on Bugs' form ahead of him. Bugs was fast. Bugs was really, damn fast. But he was also slightly cocky, overconfident…if Yakko was smart – he darted left, narrowly avoiding a lighting crew guy – he could out maneuver Bugs Bunny.
He swerved right around a golf cart and left around a group of equipment assistants. Urging his body faster, Yakko began to close the gap on Bugs, who was only two body lengths ahead of him. He matched Bugs move for move, swerve for swerve. Darted when he darted. Strafed when he strafed. They were almost at the end of their agreed track, and Yakko's ego couldn't possibly stomach another second place. No, not this time. And his answer was right up ahead: a truck was crossing the street directly in front of them. This was all going to come down to timing. Extremely, meticulously precise timing.
Bugs banked left – he was going to go around the truck. It would only shave milliseconds off his time, which was all Yakko needed. With an extra burst of speed, Yakko hurtled straight for the truck. He couldn't miss a step, or he'd blow it…peeling at a break neck speed, Yakko ducked low to the ground and sprinted beneath the car and between the two sets of wheels. For a moment he heard nothing but the whoosh of air around him and the roar of the engine before he emerged on the other side, barely a nose ahead of Bugs, and thrust himself past the corner of the south building – the finish line.
He slid to a stop, creating skid marks on the asphalt and panting hard. Gasping for breath, Bugs came to a slightly more graceful stop next to him, grinning ear to long ear.
"That was some fancy footwork there, kiddo," Bugs said as he caught his breath, "Why, I think you mighta tied me."
"Tied? I think you need to crack open a rulebook old man, most professionals agree that when I come in first that means you came in second," Yakko retorted, smirking.
"I'll give you 'old man,'" Bugs snorted, making a grab for Yakko who laughed and ducked out of the way.
In a flurry of huffing and puffing Daffy, the dark blur that Yakko had lapped long ago, finally staggered across the finish line. He made a show of gasping and wheezing as he leaned on his knees.
"You…cheated," he puffed, glowering at them. "Both of you…dirty, rotten…cheaters…"
"Hmm, I didn't know 'you cheated' meant 'I'm outta shape' in duck language," Yakko quipped.
Bugs gave Daffy a smug smirk, which the duck returned with a nasty glare.
"Cute kid ya got there," Daffy snapped, jerking his head at Yakko, "you teach him to sit and stay too?"
Bugs looped an arm around the wiry duck's shoulders. "Lighten up featherhead, third place ain't bad. Third place outta three, but still, that's a bronze medal!"
"Better not wear the medal when you race us again though. I heard bronze is heavy, and you're slow enough already," Yakko warned.
"You're a real Jerry Lewis," Daffy snarled amidst Bugs and Yakko's laughter, "now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than watch you teach some squirt your ability to snidely insult a star."
"Daff, if I remember correctly, you were the one who told me to, and I quote, 'cleanse my palette because I was about to eat your dust' before the race," Bugs drawled.
"He threw a bear trap in front of me at the starting line," Yakko added to Bugs, who just shook his head at Daffy in a disappointed way.
"For shame, Daff," Bugs said heavily.
Daffy glared at them both for a beat. "When did I miss the memo that said it was harass the duck day?" he asked, arms crossed.
"Probably when you were in last place," Yakko answered immediately.
Bugs doubled over with laughter and judging by the look Daffy was giving both of them Yakko was sure he was about to get a pie to the face. Instead, Daffy pointed at him rather threateningly, going so far has to shove his finger against Yakko's nose as he snapped, "Watch it bub, your hammerspace is going to look like a toddler's playpen by the time I'm through with you!"
He then wheeled around at Bugs, who was still laughing, with a dramatic flourish.
"And you," Daffy said direly, trading the finger over to Bugs, "Teaching today's youth to treat their elders in such a despicable manner. You should be ashamed of yourself. I'm ashamed for you! I'm not even mad, I'm just…disappointed. A pathetic show, indeed."
Still grinning, Bugs retorted, "Says the grown man who tried to trip up the kid with a bear trap."
"Details, details," Daffy said dismissively, "Now, as much as I'd love to stick around and watch you two try to show off how clever you are, I have things to do."
"Look at you, duck on the go," Bugs said, amused.
"In case you were unaware, toons are missing. I know it's easy to forget that when you live in I'm-Rich-And-Everything's-Perfect Land, but Toontown's fallen victim to a kidnapping spree and I for one refuse to play little games on the lot while people's lives are at stake!" Daffy proclaimed.
Bugs pulled out a carrot and took a bite as he leaned casually on Daffy's shoulder. "Where'd the sudden interest in the public's wellbeing come from? Last time Yakko and I invited you on a search, you told me your mother died. And here all this time I thought us drawn toons didn't have moms…silly me," Bugs said, smirking.
"Oh dry up cotton ball," Daffy snapped amidst Yakko's snickers, "I can't be at your every beck and call. Speaking of which, I have more important things to do than this, like watching paint dry, or waiting for red traffic lights to turn into green traffic lights or – "
Bugs took his carrot and made a playful jab at Daffy, who jumped to the side quickly. Just as quickly, he completely disappeared. Blinking, Yakko looked wildly around, convinced he had missed something, until he saw Daffy smirking a good thirty feet away next to a lot tram stop.
"You're getting slow in your old age ya gray hair!" Daffy taunted.
"Come back here and I'll show ya how slow I am!" Bugs challenged back.
"We still getting' lunch Saturday?"
"You ask me that every week."
"Yeah yeah yeah," Yakko heard Daffy mutter as the duck strolled away. As Daffy made his way to the private parking lot, Bugs turned to Yakko and chuckled, "And to think we was the worst enemies you'd ever seen when we first started in the business. Now we get lunch at the same café every Saturday like an old married couple." Bugs stared off into the distance for a moment. "Come to think of it, we argue like an old married couple too."
Yakko immediately thought of Buster and had a sudden vision of the two of them, old and wrinkled, arguing over a plate of buffalo wings at some restaurant. It was odd, but mostly because it was sort of funny to picture Buster old. Blue hair turned white, tuft of fur coming out of his ears, whiskers everywhere –
"You okay kid? You looked like you left the planet."
Realizing Bugs was staring at him, Yakko shook his head abruptly.
"No, I'm fine, I just…"
Yakko hesitated for a moment. Did he ask it? He'd wanted to for a while now…did he ask Bugs what it was like to never age, to never feel your body change, for your hair to turn white? He was moments away from asking it, seconds, but when Yakko finally looked Bugs in the eye he was overcome with a sudden, strong fear of offending the rabbit, and a different set of words escaped from his mouth.
"…I just wanted to know how Daffy did that back there. Disappear, I mean."
Bugs raised his brow. "You mean they faked it on your show?"
"Faked what?"
"When you guys had to do a shot on Animaniacs where a character looked at you, and you were on one side of the screen, but when the character looked away and back again, you were somewhere entirely different – "
"Yeah –"
" – did you guys actually perform that stunt, or did the editors work some movie magic?"
"Oh, they did that in the editing room," Yakko said, then he narrowed his eyes, "but are you telling me that's actually possible to do? Because if this is another one of those 'let's see how gullible Yakko is today' antics of yours, I'm not gonna be thrilled."
"Of course you can actually do that!" Bugs cried, half amused, half frustrated, "What did they teach you in that school?"
Yakko ticked off on his fingers, "Math, English, history...they had Granny teach us sex ed, don't ask how that went – "
"Quit yer yammerin' and get over here, I need to educate your poor, deprived brain," Bugs instructed.
"Ooh, a lesson," Yakko said, stepping up to Bugs, "and here all this time I thought I'd graduated already."
"Yakkety yak," Bugs muttered. He positioned himself so he was standing just a few feet away from Yakko. "Now, say I'm here," he said, pointing to where his feet were, "but I wanna be – "
Bugs took a step forward, and in the time it took Yakko to blink he was gone. Like he had just vanished from existence. Yakko looked left and right, but a tap on his shoulder caused him to spin around, bringing him face to face with a smirking Bugs.
" – here," Bugs finished, "how would you think I'd go about doing that?"
"Tell me to shut my eyes and count to ten?" Yakko quipped.
"How do ya think I'd do it without being a wise ass?"
"Well, if it's anything like sprinting, I'm sure it's another Jedi mind trick deal where I convince myself I'm there."
"Minus the cultural reference, you're right," Bugs said. He clapped Yakko on the back. "It looks like today's youth ain't doomed after all!"
"Glad I could restore your faith in toonkind," Yakko replied dryly, "but I'm guessing it's not that simple."
Bugs nodded. "Right again. You've got to want to be there, that's one thing. You've got to be able to ignore reality too. It's called cutting – they named it after what the editors had to do to replicate the stunt on film when the actors couldn't do it. Your body changes itself, ignores reality, it skips a beat in time."
"Why didn't they even bother to mention this in school?" Yakko grumbled, "I feel like there's some big encyclopedia of toon knowledge they forgot to assign."
"Huh, like a kid's gonna care about something they can't learn in five minutes," Bugs snorted. "You're gonna find out there's a lot they didn't teach ya in school. A whole lot."
"Where did you learn all this, then? Correspondence course?" Yakko challenged.
"Been around for a while," Bugs said with a wink. "Now this trick works great on, eh, simple minded folk. But a toon with brains is another story…they can imagine you're somewhere else just as easily as you can."
At Yakko's frown, Bugs continued, "I could block you if I wanted. Mentally. If I felt like you were gonna try and cut somewhere, I could stop you. It would feel like you ran into a wall. I ain't sayin' it'd be easy to do – took me well over a decade to block a cut, and another two years after that to do it again. Most toons can't do it, especially mortal ones. Some toons – now, this is rare – but some toons can throw you, meanin' they could make you cut somewhere else entirely. What's bad is that they could cut you somewhere you really wouldn't like…in front of a truck…over a cliff…you get the idea."
"But how could you do that? I'm the one cutting, it's my body I'm in control of, I should be able to go where I want," Yakko reasoned.
"It all depends on who's got the better will. Stronger character and all that jazz. The stronger mind will win just like the stronger body would. Long story short, be careful where you cut."
Yakko glanced at the older toon. He'd feel a lot better matching minds with just about anyone other than Bugs; Bugs would probably throw him into next week. He shifted his eyes to the tram stop that Daffy had cut to. It would be amazing to transport himself somewhere else at the blink of an eye…concentrating on the tram stop and only the tram stop, Y took a step forward. Nothing. He had hardly moved.
"Settin' your sights a little high," Bugs said with a smirk. "Like I said, some toons never get it. You've got a chance though…I've only ever see Class A's do it myself. Speakin' a which, that brother of yours ever take his test yet?"
"Not yet, he's still in therapy – damn it, therapy!" Yakko hissed, running a hand through his ears, "Oh my god, I completely lost track of time…I need to pick Wakko up from physical therapy, and then we have to get ready for Dot's birthday…crap, where the hell is Buster? He should've been here a half hour ago – did he forget? I'll call him – no, he never answers his phone. Why does he even have a phone? That phone gets more use as a paper weight than it does – "
Yakko stopped midsentence and looked at Bugs, who was watching him with a bemused face. Blinking for a moment, he quickly threw on a charming smile and clasped his hands together. Taking a page from Dot's book, he cooed in the most complimentary tone imaginable, "Hey, Bugs…"
Bugs raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" he asked slowly.
"Picture, if you will," Yakko began, sweeping his hand out in front of him as if displaying an invisible stage, "a little boy with an injured arm, sitting in a doctor's office…alone…waiting and waiting for his big brother to show and take him home…"
When Bugs just continued to eye him suspiciously, Yakko continued, "And at that home is an even littler girl…it's her birthday. She's turning fourteen, and she wants to celebrate it with her two brothers, the only family she knows. But what if they never come? What if she spends the night with a untouched birthday cake, the candles unlit, no presents, no family – "
"Do you want a ride to the doctor's office?" Bugs asked flatly.
"Yes please."
Bugs rolled his eyes. "Geez mac, all ya had to do was ask."
"But that wouldn't have been nearly as fun," Yakko countered.
"Your mouth's done more running than your legs have today. Come on ya crazy thespian, my car's parked in the back," Bugs said. As they walked, Bugs turned back to him. "Dot's really turning fourteen?"
"Yeah, can you believe it?" Yakko replied. He thought for a moment. "It's strange…it feels like yesterday she was four-years-old. It's like I watched her grow up right before my eyes, and I just stood still."
Bugs snorted. "Welcome to my world."
Wakko shrugged and rolled his shoulders. His arm never felt right after a therapy session; it didn't hurt exactly, but it was uncomfortable. He supposed that moving it around was like a baby's teething: doing something with the problem, no matter how useless, distracted from the irritation. There was nothing to distract him here in the waiting room but the pastel walls and bland potted plants. Staring at Tress had exhausted its entertainment value long ago. Unlike Yakko, he found looking at girls was only fun for so long. Besides, Tress was just typing away at the computer at her desk, which was boring in itself.
Sighing, Wakko turned his gaze to the window, hoping that Buster's car was going to magically pull up. Where were Yakko and Buster anyway? Had they forgotten him? Wakko leaned on his knees, glaring at the ground. Figures that Yakko would forget about him, what with his busy schedule of talking to Buster, talking to Babs, talking to Dot, or, most importantly, talking to the oh-so-great Bugs Bunny. He rolled his eyes. Yakko all but drooled over the rabbit.
He was seriously considering walking home at this point. It wasn't like it was far, he'd probably be home in half an hour, but with all those kidnappings going on Yakko had practically forbid them from looking out the window without some sort of chaperone. But for how late Yakko was he probably could have walked home, been kidnapped, escaped, and walked back to the office by now. The clickety click of Tress's nails against the keyboard was really starting to bother him. She probably didn't realize it though. She was probably used to it. It was probably just white noise to her, like how he never seemed to notice when the washer and dryer were running. God, this had gotten so boring that he was thinking about the washer and dryer. Where was Yakko –
The door to the office burst open suddenly. Wakko jumped to his feet, partly because he hoped it was Yakko but mostly because it had surprised him. But it wasn't Yakko; Dr. Scratchensniff hadn't even bothered to shut the door behind him he was so frenzied, and he rushed past Wakko without even a hello. There were a dozen papers clutched so tightly in his hands that they were bent, and several dropped pages had made a trail behind him all the way to the door.
"We have confirmed it!" he cried to Tress, waving his arms and scattering papers everywhere, "it's DIP, I have just conferred with Brain, it is the DIP that killed her, it is DIP without a doubt!"
Her eyes wide, Tress cleared her throat and nodded in Wakko's direction.
"What?" Scratchensniff asked vaguely. He turned around, locked eyes with Wakko, and immediately dropped all of his papers. Looking flustered, he blurted, "I – Wakko! I didn't see you h-hiding there!"
Wakko stared back at him, bewildered. "I wasn't hiding. I was just sitting in this chair – "
"How is your arm?" Scratchensniff asked, his voice shrill. He had a maniacal smile on your face.
"Uh, it's fine. What was that about DIP?" Wakko asked.
"Where is your brother? He should have picked you up long ago, because if he had done that, you wouldn't be here to hear things that silly doctors say," Scratchensniff continued. His was bordering on hysterical.
"Do mean the same kind of DIP they had in Roger Rabbit? Like the kind Doc Doom used?" Wakko pressed, getting out of his chair.
"Wakko, please sit – "
"It is, isn't it? I didn't even know it was real – "
"Wakko, please!" Scatchensniff yelled. Wakko took a step back – he hated when people yelled. And he had never heard Scratchensniff yell off set. It made it seem worse.
"I'm sorry Wakko," Scratchensniff said, softer this time, looking weary, "but please, you mustn't listen to what I say, I am just a silly doctor – "
"So I shouldn't listen to my doctors then?" Wakko asked.
"No, you should, just not about certain, ehm – "
"Hello, nurse! And oh, what's up, doc?"
Yakko had sauntered in through the open door, a smirk on his face. It faded slightly though as his eyes darted from Wakko to Scratchensniff. Wakko glanced out the window. It was Bugs' sleek car that was pulling away from the office, not Buster's.
"I thought we signed up for physical therapy, not mental," Yakko commented slowly, "Ah, you guys alright?"
"Fine Yakko, just fine," Scratchensniff said hurriedly. He gathered up his papers and clutched them to his chest. "I, ehm, Wakko he – he overheard a bad diagnosis. Very bad. He really should not give it a thought. Now, ehm, I'm sorry but I must go. You know what they say: a doctor's duty never dies!"
"Who says that?" Yakko asked, frowning.
"They do!" Scratchensniff blurted. With that, he bustled past Yakko and into his office, shutting the door.
Yakko stared after him. Then he made a show of looking at Wakko, who kept his face blank, and then at Tress, who looked like she didn't know how to compose her face. "I think we need a shrink for the shrink," he said. "Wakko, you need to explain what's going on and Tress, you need to stop getting more gorgeous every time I see you."
"Thank you Yakko," Tress said, seeming to remember what she was doing and getting out of her seat. "Now, I'm going to – "
"Seriously, they can't draw 'em better than you."
"That's lovely Yakko. But I need to show you how to help Wakko with his exercises at home, and you're incredibly late."
"'Incredibly' late? Aw c'mon, at least give me fashionably late. It was only ten minutes," Yakko reasoned.
"Actually it was twenty-seven minutes," Wakko piped up, pointing to the clock on the wall.
Yakko glared at him. "Thanks Wak. You should work for Grand Central."
"Just sayin'."
"Sorry, things ran a little late with Bugs."
Wakko crossed his arms. "What, crawling up his butt took longer than you thought?"
Yakko's scowl deepened. "You have something you want to discuss?" he snapped.
"If you're gonna leave me sitting here all day you could at least teach me all the cool stuff he shows you – "
Yakko sighed. "Not with a busted arm I can't – "
"My arm's a lot better since I get to spend so much time at the doctor's office!" Wakko retorted.
"Save it Wak or I'll leave you here til next week – "
"Boys!" Tress shouted suddenly. Yakko and Wakko turned to face her. Her arms were crossed, and her foot was tapping the floor so fast it was a blur. "Do you mind?" she pressed.
"I do mind, but not very well. I hear it takes practice," Yakko replied, and Wakko rolled his eyes.
"If you'll follow me to the clinic room I'll demonstrate the exercises with Wakko," Tress said calmly, leading them down the hallway.
Strolling up next to her and matching her stride, Yakko said, "I'm sure my brother's tired from the exercises already. Why don't you demonstrate with me?"
Wakko trailed behind them as Yakko tried to persuade Tress into touching his arm. He stared as they passed Scratchensniff's door on the right. It was shut, with a 'Do Not Disturb' sign dangling off kilter from the doorknob. Wakko frowned. It is the DIP that killed her…that had to have meant Slappy. But DIP? That stuff that dissolved toons? Who would do that to someone? A horrible image of Slappy's skin bubbling and covered in DIP sparked through his mind and Wakko shuddered.
"Yakko. Please. I'm begging you. I'll do anything. I'll do chores. I'll be in a Tim Allen movie. Just please, please let me go downstairs."
Dot edged toward the door of his room and hoped that Yakko wouldn't notice. About a half hour ago he had herded her up the stairs and into her bedroom and announced that he needed her opinion on clothes. This had immediately raised her suspicions; not only had Yakko never expressed an interest in his personal fashion sense, but he had, at best, six outfits. Convinced that he was cornering her about sneaking out to see Skippy on more than one occasion, she kept her mouth shut and went along with it. But after a half hour of 'do you like this shirt or that shirt better' and no mention of any wrongdoing, Dot would have gladly fessed up to anything if it meant she could leave. Maybe he was trying to wear down her will.
"Just another minute – here, look," Yakko said, holding up a button down shirt to his chest, "Could I wear this to a producer's meeting?"
Swinging her head at him, Dot gave him a deadpan stare. "Could you wear that shirt to a producer's meeting? You mean the shirt I already told you could wear to a producer's meeting three clothing conversations ago? Yes, I believe you could wear that to a producer's meeting."
"Excellent. What about this shirt? Would this go with jeans?"
"Yakko, big brother that I love and respect," Dot said, adding a note of pleading to her voice, "if you value your life you will let me leave this room. Now."
Yakko's tail snaked its way around her wrist and gently tugged her away from the door. "Aw c'mon, who else do I have to consult about the wide world of fashion? Wakko? Buster? Do you want your brother to go out in public looking like he got dressed in the dark?"
Dot groaned and slumped against the bed. "Pleeeease Yakko, it's my birthday, I didn't really want to spend it as a captive. I was thinking a cake, maybe some presents…friends…but captivity? Nah, wasn't on the agenda. Plus your room smells like kung pao chicken. Gross."
Yakko raised an eyebrow and took a large step toward her. "Wait a sec…" he said slowly, "…is it your birthday?"
"You've only said 'happy birthday' to me about eighty times today," Dot retorted.
Yakko smirked and flung a shirt over his shoulder. Engulfing her in a hug, he said, "Let's make it eighty-one then: happy birthday Dot!" Getting to his feet after one final squeeze, he continued, "On that note, I think we should go downstairs," and he steered her out the door by her shoulders.
"About time," Dot muttered irritably as they descended the staircase. Whatever her brother was up to, she had stopped caring about it fifteen minutes ago. Right about now she'd rather watch ice freeze before spending another minute –
"SURPRISE!"
Dot cried out and stumbled back into Yakko's arms. Buster's entire living room was decked out in birthday decorations: streamers wound in and out of each other about the room, balloons covered every square inch of the ceiling and a large banner that read "Happy Birthday Dot!" stretched across the foyer. Several people were clustered in the living room; Babs was putting a lot of effort into stretching party hats on both Wakko and Buster's heads, while Skippy and Scratchensniff were beaming up at her. Skippy gave her a quick wave. There were several presents piled on couch next to them, and in the kitchen Dot could see a large pink cake.
"You guys!" Dot shrieked, a grin splitting across her face. She looked up at Yakko, who smiled warmly at her. "Go on, birthday girl," he whispered, giving her a soft nudge. She quickly squeezed him around the waist before dashing down the stairs and toward her friends.
"Yakko and Skippy were the masterminds behind all this," Babs said, snapping the party hat string under Wakko's chin. He yelped and glared at her.
Having just engulfed Skippy in a hug, Dot pulled back and looked at him. "Really?"
"Well, I helped," Skippy said modestly, his cheeks coloring, "but Yakko did a lot of the work. And Babs decorated."
"Did she really?" Yakko mused, sidling up to her side. "Impressive."
"Birthdays really bring out my inner Martha Stewart," Babs replied to him.
Yakko looked like he was about to say something but Buster half-tackled him and rolled him into a headlock. When Buster finally released Yakko, he was wearing a party hat.
"Babs may have decorated the house, but I decorated Yakko," Buster said proudly. Yakko promptly reached up and smacked Buster's own party hat right off his head.
"Happy birthday Dot!" Scratchensniff said as she giggled, "my goodness you are growing up so fast!"
"Don't remind me," Yakko grumbled.
"Why just yesterday it seems you were a tiny wee thing, running around the lot like a crazy little ape," Scratchensniff continued, sniffing a bit.
Dot glared at Wakko who was snickering over the word 'wee,' but Skippy grabbed her hand and pulled her. "Open your presents!" he urged.
"Yeah, open them so we can eat the cake already," Wakko muttered impatiently.
"Take all the time you need with your presents Dot," Yakko countered, eyeing Wakko sternly, "open them as slowly as you want…savor the moment…"
Wakko glared at him huffily, but the effect was voided by the bright yellow party hat attached to his head.
Unable to contain the childish glee at the sight of unopened gifts, Dot practically launched herself into the couch and eagerly grabbed the top present. One thing she had never understood about Wakko was how he was always embarrassed about opening presents at his parties. Something about not liking "everybody watching him." But Dot didn't care – she was going to open her gifts, and if someone was watching her, all the better.
The top one was from Buster, which was a gift card to the mall. "I felt like I couldn't go wrong with that," he said unashamedly. Next up was Babs, who, to Dot's delight, had gotten her a very nice makeup kit. This caused Yakko to glare at Babs with clear disapproval.
"Are you trying to put me in an early grave?" he asked her pointedly.
Babs gave him a very toothy grin. "I can't help that I know what a girl needs," she cooed.
Trying not to look as incredibly pleased by the makeup as she felt, Dot chirped, "Thanks Babs!" and soldiered on with her gifts. Unwrapping Scratchensniff's present revealed a thick book titled, I'm a Growing Girl: Navigating Your Thoughts and Feelings as a Teenage Toon. She locked eyes with Yakko for a moment before turning to Scratchensniff with a plastered grin.
"Thanks Scratchy, I needed a…good read!" Dot said haltingly, trying her best to inject sincerity into her voice.
"I think you'll find it very informative!" Scratchensniff said earnestly.
"Got you that book for your birthday," she heard Yakko whisper to Buster, who snickered and told him he'd "already read it." Yakko whispered something back, which had both of their shoulders shaking with laughter. Rolling her eyes at them, Dot picked up a small, neatly wrapped box with a tag that read, "From your delightful brothers." Feeling a twinge of excitement, Dot ripped off the paper. Within seconds a smile exploded across her face like a firework.
"A camera?" she gasped to Yakko, clutching the box, "How'd you know I wanted one?"
"Oh, I don't know, you only mentioned it every week for the last four months," Yakko mused.
Leaping forward, Dot caught her oldest brother around the waist and squeezed him tightly. "Thank you thank you!" she gushed.
Wakko crossed his arms and cleared his throat pointedly. Dot gave him a sly look. "I'll give you a million bucks if any part of this wasn't all Yakko's idea."
"Hey, I helped too!" Wakko protested.
"What, when you wrote your name on the card?" Dot snapped.
"Cool it Dot, the camera's from Wakko too," Yakko said, sounding resigned but hugging her anyway, "as the card denotes you have two brothers, and we're both delightful."
"You're welcome," Wakko muttered to her sarcastically.
Dot barely suppressed an eye roll. She refused to believe that Wakko had any part in her gift – he probably hadn't even known what he'd "gotten" her until she unwrapped it. But whatever, she had her own camera now, she'd wanted one forever. It looked like a nice one too…Yakko had good taste. That, or he was good at talking up the store clerk into pointing him toward the best deal.
"Still got one more present Dot," Buster pointed out.
Buster was right; behind the camera was a very small, carefully wrapped box. Picking it up, Dot realized from the note attached to it that the gift was from Skippy.
"Aw Skip, you didn't have to get me anything!" she said.
"Yeah, even Wakko knew that," Buster quipped. Wakko quickly reached up and snapped the rubber band from the party hat beneath Buster's chin.
Ignoring them, Dot smiled at Skippy, who gave her an embarrassed smile back. The gift was so precisely wrapped that Dot felt bad ripping it open and found herself carefully unraveling it. Peeling off the paper left her with a small white box, which she opened. Dot nearly did a double take: it was a bottle of perfume.
Wakko snorted quietly and he, along with Buster and Babs, immediately turned to Yakko. Her oldest brother was standing very still and staring at the perfume with an unreadable expression on his face, his mouth slightly open; Yakko looked as though he could either swing into a violent rage or turn tail and run out of the house screaming at any moment. Thankfully he didn't turn that look on Skippy, because Dot was sure it would make the boy just faint. Yakko was finally broken out of his spell by a small nudge from Babs, who whispered, "Looks like she doesn't need the makeup." Turning to her very slowly, Yakko narrowed his eyes at her and grumbled, "Very funny."
"I…um," Dot stammered, not quite knowing what to think or do, "it's…it's nice Skip."
"Ooooh!" Wakko teased, waggling his eyebrows. That was it. She was just going to have to strangle her brother with her bare hands. But before Dot could even make a grab for him Yakko gave Wakko such a chilling look that he clammed up instantly. It was too late though; Skippy's face had colored significantly, and he stared at the floor and mumbled something that sounded like, "wasn't sure what to get you" and "you can take it back if you don't like it." Dot, who felt her own face burning, mumbled back, "No, no it's good, I like it."
God, what had he been thinking? She had never wore perfume in her life, and even if she had, it still made absolutely no sense. Skippy was her friend, and friends didn't buy each other perfume. And now she was never going to live this down, Wakko was sure to use it as fodder for ridicule for the next decade. And by the looks of it, Skippy's gift had just taken about five years off of Yakko's life.
The next thing she knew Scratchensniff had stuck his bald head into to the fray and took a gigantic whiff of the perfume. "Ooh, that's very nice!" he commented, "It's like my bath soap!"
Dot tried to smile at him but her face arranged itself into more of a grimace instead. Turning to her with a nasty grin, Wakko said, "Now you can smell like Scratchensniff after a sponge bath!"
"Shut it Wakko," Yakko snapped. "You too!" he added to Buster, who was hiding giggles. It didn't help that Yakko had barely covered a snort himself.
Giving the boys an annoyed sniff, Babs stepped forward. "That was so sweet of you Skippy," she said kindly, "I bet you don't have anything like that, huh Dot?"
Noting that Babs was throwing her a rather knowing look, Dot shook her head fervently. "Nope, nothing like it!"
Thankfully some of the tension left Skippy's face, but the coloring did not. Smiling, Dot gave a quick hug around the shoulders. Wakko opened his mouth to comment, but Yakko cut him off with a sharp, "Not one word."
When she let go of them, there was a bit of an awkward pause, and Dot could feel everyone's eyes on her and Skippy. Now quite sure that this reached the upper echelons of most embarrassing moments in her life, it took all of her being to not run for the door. Luckily Yakko clapped his hands and shouted, "Birthday cake!" which seemed to bring everyone out of their stupor. This provided a welcome distraction; after everyone chanted "happy birthday to you" Dot was blowing out the candles on her cake, which Yakko cut moments later. Taking her slice – a corner piece for the extra icing – Dot made her way to Skippy.
"Hey Skip, you haven't touched your cake," she said.
Scraping at the icing with his fork, Skippy looked at her glumly. "I'm so sorry about the perfume, I embarrassed you really bad."
"No you didn't!" Dot protested. Skippy stared at her flatly. "Okay, yeah, a little," she conceded, "but it was really thoughtful! Definitely more thoughtful than what Wakko did anyway, since he didn't have any thoughts at all."
"Thanks," Skippy said, his face lightening a bit, "it's just that it's hard, ya know, shopping for a girl without…without Aunt Slappy helping me out. I was at the mall with Nutsy, and he kept complaining about his feet and all the 'punks' walking around, and I just kinda blanked out. I…I wanted to get you something nice."
"And you did," Dot said a matter-of-factly.
"I guess. But I wanted to get you something really nice, 'cause you're special, Dot," he continued.
Great, her face was feeling hot again. At this rate she was going to have second-degree burns. She brought her plate of cake close to her face in an effort to hide it, but Skippy seemed to notice; his own face coloring again, Skippy blurted, "It doesn't have to mean, uh, stuff or anything! You're special, but not that kinda special – no, wait, I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, I meant – "
"How about we just quit while we're ahead," Dot interjected.
"Good idea," Skippy said.
They continued to talk, but about topics that were decidedly not the perfume. This went much better and made things substantially less awkward. As Dot giggled at an observation from Skippy, she glanced around at the party. Wakko, who had somehow wound up wearing three party hats all at odd angles on his head, was playing some kind of ridiculous game with Buster that involved the slowly deflating balloons. It seemed like they were bent on integrating Scratchensniff into the game, and the poor doctor looked halfway between amused and horrified as he helplessly batted the balloons away. Meanwhile, Yakko and Babs were seated on the couch and having a rather animated discussion.
For that moment, everything was good. Everyone seemed so at ease, everyone seemed so calm, so happy, that Dot should have known, really, that it wasn't going to last. But it was hard to imagine things going wrong when they were so peaceful. So when the doorbell rang, Dot skipped to the door excitedly.
"Who could that be?" Yakko muttered as Dot passed him.
"Party guest, duh!" Dot trilled back. She wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and swung open the door, smiling widely. To her surprise, a large white horse with a prominent gap between its two front teeth was standing on Buster's porch.
"Far…Farfignewton?" Dot said in disbelief.
Farfignewton let out a panicked whinny. Yakko had approached the doorway by now, and placed his hands on Dot's shoulders as he addressed the horse.
"Hey Farf, why the long face?" Yakko quipped, "Something happen? Where are Pinky and Brain?"
At this, Farfignewton whinnied loud and long. She lowered her head, revealing Pinky, who was sitting on her back. His face was tear streaked and his eyes were as red as his nose. He stared them, lip quivering, his whole body shaking.
"Pinky, are you okay?" Dot asked.
That was all it took. Pinky let loose a despairing wail and immediately began to sob. He dashed across Farfignewton's neck and back and leapt off her head and into Dot's arms. As he soaked her shirt with tears, he barely choked out the words, "Brain," "gone" and "narf."
"Okay Pinky, take a deep breath and provide us with complete sentences," Yakko encouraged, holding out his hand. Blinking up at him and – to Dot's infinite horror – wiping his snotty nose on her shoulder, Pinky hopped onto Yakko's palm. He lifted Pinky to his face.
"Tell me what's wrong – what happened to Brain?" Yakko asked.
Gasping for breath between sobs, Pinky finally managed to cry out, "Oh Y-Yakko, he's g-g-gone! He's gone, gone gone! B-Brain and his big head are gone!"
As the small mouse broke into fresh sobs, Yakko walked Pinky over to the living room where the rest of their friends were watching anxiously. He sat down in the middle of the couch next to Wakko. Delicately wiping the sheen of snot from her shirt, Dot joined him on his other side.
"Slow down Pinky, slow down…just tell me what happened, and we'll help you find him, all right?" Yakko said.
"But, b-but your party…" Pinky whimpered.
"Don't worry Pinky, it's just Dot's," Wakko said casually.
"Shut up, Wakko," Dot snapped. Then she turned to Pinky with a soft face. "It's okay Pinky, I don't mind."
"Just tell us exactly what happened, as much detail as you can remember," Yakko said, lightly patting Dot on the back with his free hand.
Pinky nodded, and several tears flopped off his face and soaked into Yakko's glove. "O-o-okay, this, this is what h-happened. I woke up this morning, and I got out of b-bed, then I went to the b-bathroom, and then I had b-breakfast. I had three p-pellets. They were granola flavored, like the breakfast k-kind, I think they use r-real granola too, except I don't know how they squeeze all that granola into that tiny pellet – "
"Maybe less detail," Yakko interjected, "why don't you skip to the part where you noticed Brain was missing?"
"Oh, g-good idea," Pinky said in a watery voice, "Me and Figgy went to Brain's house to watch Jeopardy like we always do, because I'm trying to beat my record," he said. "Two questions right each year," he added to Wakko, whose eyes flicked to Yakko.
"And what did you find at Brain's?" Yakko prompted him.
His eyes welling up with fresh tears, Pinky sobbed, "Oh Yakko, his beautiful little house was s-s-smashed! Someone stomped all o-over it!"
"Stomped? Who the hell could stomp on a house without getting noticed? Wouldn't a giant in the neighborhood be a bit obvious?" Buster asked.
"He lives in the mouse district Buster, all the houses on the street aren't any bigger than a dollhouse," Babs informed him.
"So me and Figgy dug through, in case Brain was s-stuck," Pinky continued, "and we dug and dug, but we couldn't f-find him at all. And his lab stuff – all the sparkly bottles and chemicals – they were g-gone too."
"You are telling a joke!" Scratchensniff blurted suddenly, making Wakko jump. "All of our – I mean, his materials? Gone?"
"All of it!" Pinky cried, flailing his arms.
"Did you find any kind of clue, like a note or a trail, anything that might suggest an assailant?" Scratchensniff pressed. Dot looked up at him. His face was as white as a sheet.
"Who says someone attacked him?" Buster asked, "Sounds like he bolted – took all his lab work and busted the house to destroy the evidence."
"Evidence of what?" Babs asked, raising her eyebrows at him.
Buster frowned, shrugging. "Um…evil genius stuff? I don't know, it was just a guess, god…"
"Brain's not evil!" Pinky cried defensively, "that whole taking over the world thing, it was just a quirk!"
Wakko glanced at Yakko, concerned. "He knows that was just a TV show, right?" he whispered.
"I think he might've missed that memo," Yakko whispered back. He turned to Pinky. "We know Brain's not evil, Buster just wants his life to be a Hardy Boys novel," Yakko said, shooting a look at his friend, "Now, back to what Scratchy was saying, did you see anything? Anything at all?"
"Not much, just a t-trail of footprints," Pinky said sadly.
Yakko blinked. "Wait, footprints? Really? Could you, eh, elaborate on that?"
Pinky wiped his nose noisily across his arm. "I can t-try, I didn't look at them a lot, they were scary…they were more like pawprints really, and they…a-and they, they were made out of…out of ink!"
I thrill of knowing foreboding coursed through her. Dot gasped and locked eyes with Skippy. "Weasels," they hissed in unison. Soon everyone's eyes were on them, including Yakko's. He was watching her particularly closely. Biting her lip, Dot avoided meeting his eyes.
"W-weasels?" Pinky repeated.
"We had a small issue with some weasel toons a few months back," Yakko explained, though his eyes never left Dot's face, "the ink thing was a bit of a theme."
"I'm callin' the cops," Babs said, turning around swiftly. Dot noticed that Yakko jumped slightly at the word 'cops,' and watched Babs fretfully for a moment before clearing his throat.
"So did ya follow the footprints?" Buster asked, his ears perked forward.
Pinky nodded, sniffling. "Me and Figgy followed them a l-little bit…we ran out of feet to follow near Slappy's old house – " Pinky's wide, watery blue eyes shot up to Skippy. " – oh, Skippy, I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you sad – "
"S'okay," Skippy said quickly. "Keep going, it's fine."
His lip quivering, Pinky pressed on, "Well okay, we followed them, but there were a whole bunch and I got c-confused, and then I think I followed rabbit tracks for a while, but then I found the r-right ones again, and they ended at, at Slappy's. So we knocked on Minerva's door, to see if she w-was okay, but she wouldn't answer her door. All the lights were on in her house but she wouldn't answer, and that would be an awful waste of electricity if she was home…anyway, we went down the street to, to your new house, Skippy," Pinky said, nodding to the boy, "and your friend Nutsy was there, and he yelled at us for w-waking him up and told us to get off his lawn – "
"Sounds about right," Dot mumbled.
" – and he said that Scratchensniff took you here, and so we came h-here," Pinky finished. "Troz…" he added in little sob.
Babs strode back into the room, looking at everyone. "The police are on their way to Brain's, but they said they couldn't promise anything. There've been so many kidnappings and no leads, even though I told them about the weasels about eight times on the phone. You'd think that would count as a tip off," she said snappily.
Scratchensniff, who had been pacing for the last five minutes, finally stopped to swipe at his forehead. His head was shining with sweat that gathered in the cracks of his furrowed brow. "Pinky, this is all very distressing, but please, do not panic," Scratchensniff said, sounding incredibly close to panicking himself, "and please, please do not mention Brain's lab things to anyone."
"W-Why not?" Pinky asked in a shaky voice.
"Yeah, why not?" Yakko added.
Scratchensniff blanched, then said as he looked at the floor, "His lab things are very private and very important, it would be bad if his ideas were somehow thrown right into the public's eye."
"Yes, that would hurt their eye very much," Pinky said.
Dot and her brothers regarded Scratchensniff critically. Wakko was frowning especially hard, and seemed to teeter on the edge of saying something. Dot was familiar with that look, since Wakko often seemed to go through spells of finding it incredibly difficult to talk.
Yakko, who had not inherited that particular trait, said, "You don't think that would be a good idea, Scratchy? Giving the cops as much evidence as possible? What if it's the lab equipment that leads them to Brain?"
"That is all very much speculative," Scratchensniff reasoned, sounding hysterical. He wrung his hands for a moment before swinging around. "Skippy," he yelped, causing the boy to jump, "it looks like this news is upsetting you, I think I will take you home."
Skippy shook his head. "I'm okay, really – "
"I believe Nutsy wanted you home by seven o'clock," Scratchensniff said, nodding furiously.
"I don't think he ever gave me a curfew," Skippy said, frowning. "Besides, that was three hours ago – "
"Exactly, which makes you very late! Come on now, it is not safe, we have to go together," Scratchensniff said hurriedly.
With a sigh, Skippy looked at Dot and shrugged. She shrugged back; she was almost afraid to argue with Scratchensniff at this point, the doctor looked like he was about to faint.
"Thank you all for inviting me, ehm, happy birthday Dot," Scratchensniff said as he headed for the door.
"Yeah Dot, happy birthday," Skippy added, pausing beside her. For a moment it looked like he was going to hug her, but one look from Yakko and he abruptly turned around. Dot shot a glare at her oldest brother, who looked annoyingly satisfied.
Skippy followed Scratchensniff out the door and past Farfignewton, who was staring in at them morosely.
"We'll keep an eye out for Brain, Pinky!" Skippy called, waving.
Babs waved to them from the doorway until Scratchensniff's car disappeared around the corner. Dot watched her as she placed a plate of cake at Farfignewton's feet, lost in thought. Brain was gone. His house had been destroyed, leaving only inky footprints in its wake. It had to have been the weasels…were they the ones kidnapping people? Would that have been her fate in Central Park had Yakko not saved them? What were they doing with everyone? Why on earth would they want Brain?
Pinky sniffled a bit, and dabbed at his eyes with his tail. "I hope wherever Brain is, he found a toothbrush," he said, "he left his at the house."
I just wanted to give a quick shout out to my reviewers - you guys are the absolute best. Your thoughtful comments really motivate me to make this story as good as possible. I love that you take the time to examine the story and I love reading your theories as to what's going to happen. You guys rock, thank you so much!