Chapter 10: Invaded
Dot had always liked a summer night. As time slowly bled into June, the nights had become warmer and more alive with the sounds and smells of summer. Even now as she was crouched low to the ground Dot took the time to breath in the sweet smell of the grass. Having grown up in the cement sea of the Warner Brothers lot, she had rarely gotten the chance to enjoy a bed of grass.
"Find anything?" Skippy called.
"You'll be the first to know if I do," she called back.
She rolled her eyes. As badly as she wanted to find Brain, Skippy was taking this way too seriously. Convinced that Brain's disappearance was somehow linked to Slappy's murder, Skippy had turned into a one man detective team. He was relentless in his pursuit of clues and now, for the first time since her death, Skippy had worked up the nerve to search her property. So Dot found herself crouching in the grass, flashlight in hand, searching Slappy's overgrown yard for clues in the darkness.
If Yakko found out she was here she would be a dead toon. In fact, if he found out she'd snuck out to Skippy's house several times over the last few weeks he would kill her, resurrect her, and kill her again. This kidnapping thing had him in full mother hen mode; if she or Wakko so much as left their bedrooms without permission Yakko would call a SWAT team. But he couldn't be vigilant all the time, there were moments when he was distracted. Helping Wakko with physical therapy, spending time with Bugs, talking to Buster or Babs...especially when he was talking to Babs…all of those times Dot found she could disappear, unnoticed.
In one way, Yakko had no one to blame but himself. Ever since the perfume incident Yakko had kept an annoyingly sharp eye on Skippy. She and Skippy were no longer allowed to hang out in her bedroom, he always had some reason for why she couldn't go to Skippy's house, and whenever they were alone Yakko somehow popped up, half the time not even bothering to come up with an excuse for being there. While he had never actually forbidden Skippy from coming to the house, he never made the experience a pleasant one. It was easier to go to Skippy's. Nutsy spent most of his time sleeping and when he wasn't doing that he made crotchety comments about Dot's choice in clothing. She could handle that.
Where Yakko got off on his behavior Dot had no idea. He'd been running around, alone, with girls without older siblings barging in on him for years. And the girls he ran around with were skanks. Rebecca had been an all time low; she was catty, vain, shallow, and always looked like Yakko was her fifth guy on any given night. At least Skippy was nice. Had a grasp on hygiene. He was friendly, fun to be around, kinda cute…
Her heart skipped and Dot gave her head a good shake. No, it was too weird, she couldn't think of Skippy as cute. Okay, fine, he was cute, but from a completely objective standpoint. Like the way she could say her brothers were good looking without it meaning anything. Skippy was family. Like a brother.
Right?
Giving her head one last shake, Dot pushed herself to her feet and brushed grass off her knees. "Skip, I've looked at every blade of grass in this whole lawn and I haven't even found a gum wrapper, let alone a clue…Skip?"
Heart suddenly beating into overdrive, Dot spun around, wielding the flashlight like a sword. Oh god, he had been kidnapped, she was next, Yakko was going to be so pissed –
"Right here," came Skippy's voice.
He was standing directly in front of the house. He seemed to have forgotten where he was or why he was there, and instead was lost, staring.
"Skip?" Dot said slowly, approaching him with hesitant steps.
"It's been half a year since she died," Skippy murmured. His voice was so soft Dot had barely noticed he'd spoken. "But it's like I still expect her to come out the front door."
Skippy gestured vaguely to the porch. Well kept when she was alive, it was now overrun with tangles of vines and leaves. The slats of wood were already beginning to rot, and childish graffiti was scrawled above the doorbell.
"How…how are you doing?" Dot asked.
Skippy sighed. "For a while I tried to forget, but…now…I don't think I should." He turned to her and smiled. It was small and sad, but still a smile. Smiling back at him, Dot took a step closer, seeing more of her old friend than she had in a long time –
In the trees beyond Skippy's shoulder, a dark mass darted between two trunks. Dot cried out in shock and jumped backwards. Skippy's hand immediately shot up to his mouth.
"Is there something in my teeth?" he asked, touching them.
"No, I saw something!" Dot hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him away.
"Where?"
"In the trees!"
"What was it?"
"I don't know!"
The porch light of the neighboring house flicked on, spilling light into the yard. Minerva stepped out of her house, tightening a red bath robe around her waist. Her face was caked in some kind of green paste.
"What the hell's going on out here?" she barked.
"Minerva!" Dot cried. The mink narrowed her eyes at her. "Minerva be careful, I just saw something, there, in the trees – "
"What are you doing here?" she asked. Dot supposed she meant it to be a neutral question, but it just came across as rude.
"Nothin'," Skippy said.
"Do 'nothin'' somewhere else then," Minerva said, giving the word 'nothin'' an insulting drawl.
"Skippy used to live here ya know," Dot said testily.
Minerva mirrored Dot's stance, crossing her arms and lowering her head. "No, Slappy used to live here, and in case you didn't notice, she's gone now. So why don't you rugrats scamper on home, 'kay?"
Dot gasped in outrage. "That was a horrible thing to say you – "
"Forget it, let's just go," Skippy mumbled, pulling her by the arm.
"No way, she can't just say crap like that!" Dot protested.
"Dot, c'mon," Skippy urged.
"Go on, listen to your boyfriend," Minerva taunted.
Dot gave her the dirtiest glare she had, the one that she routinely practiced on Wakko.
"I hope whatever's in the woods comes and kicks the crap out of you!" Dot yelled as Skippy dragged her away.
Smirking, Minerva waved with a roll of her fingers and slipped back through the door.
"What a bitch!" Dot exclaimed incredulously. "And I thought Jeanie was bad!"
"Whoa, cool it Dot," Skippy breathed, staring at her as though she was growing another head.
"I just, she can't – argh!" Dot growled.
"It's okay Dot, I don't really care about what she thinks. I care a lot more about what you think," Skippy said.
Dot snorted. "That was way cheesy, you know," she said, glad that the darkness could hide her coloring face.
Just then she saw a very distinct movement from across the street. She gasped and jumped backward, colliding with Skippy and causing him to stumble.
"Whatwasthat?" she blurted in frantic whisper.
Straightening up, Skippy squinted into the darkness with her. The opposite side of the street was lined with cherry trees that were spotlighted by the streetlamps. Dot held her breath, waiting, until she saw it – a slim, rat-like head peeking out from behind the tree.
"I think it's a weasel," Skippy said.
Dot whimpered as fear pulsed through her. "Oh no…how many are there? Forget it, let's just run – no, that was bad last time, maybe we should try to get help – "
"Cool it Dot, I think he's by himself…and look, he's small, he's so skinny he fits behind the tree," Skippy pointed out.
Swallowing, Dot watched the weasel. Even from across the street it was easy to tell that he was incredibly underfed. Pockets of skin and bone were highlighted and shadowed in the light. He seemed docile enough; unlike the rabid weasels that had attacked her in the park, this guy seemed content to just watch them from the safety of the tree.
"Why's he watching us?" she asked.
"Dunno. Maybe he's scared?"
"Let's just get out of here," Dot said uneasily. They continued down the street, and Dot noticed that the weasel flitted from tree to tree, following them. They quickened their pace, and she stuck close to Skippy.
"Don't worry Dot," Skippy said when she whimpered again, "I'll protect you."
Dot looked up at her friend. If that same statement came from Yakko, she would have believed it and immediately felt at ease. But, with no offense to him, Skippy wasn't exactly the rough and tumble type. Then again, he said it so confidently that Dot couldn't help but feel a tiny bit better. They walked, quickly and quietly, until they reached Buster's house. The weasel followed them the entire way, and lingered when they did. Dot did not like the way he watched them, as though studying them, with feverish eyes that reflected the lamplight.
"What do we do now?" Dot whispered, never taking her eyes off the weasel.
"Well, you can go back to Buster's, and I'll make sure you get inside safely and stuff, and then I'll go back home," Skippy said in such a matter-of-fact way that for a second he reminded her of Wakko.
"Don't be stupid Skip, I can't just leave you alone with that weasel out here!" Dot protested.
"I'll be fine, I've been practicing with my hammerspace," Skippy said.
Dot frowned. She didn't care if Skippy was the next Bugs Bunny – she didn't trust that weasel anymore than she wanted to be caught outside the house. Maybe she could sneak Skippy in, and he could hide until it was safe –
A loud burst of laughter came from the other end of the street. The weasel jolted and skirted into the darkness, disappearing. Dot and Skippy scurried behind a large oak tree and peeked around the trunk. Buster and Plucky were walking home – well, maybe 'staggering' home would be more appropriate – shouting and laughing the whole way.
"See, he's gone now, I'll be fine," Skippy reasoned.
"Are you sure?" Dot asked.
"I'll call you as soon as I get back," he said perkily. They paused, looking at each other, and if Skippy hadn't noticed her blushing before he'd have to be blind not to see it now. For a moment, it looked as though he was leaning into her, towards her face; Dot's breath caught and she froze. But at the last moment he seemed to panic and instead wrapped his arms around her in an incredibly awkward hug. He even patted her back.
"I uh, I'll see you later," he mumbled, looking disappointed in himself.
"Uh, okay," Dot stammered back, not quite sure what had just happened but feeling a swelling in her chest.
Noticing that his own face was darkening rapidly, Skippy walked briskly down the sidewalk. Dot watched him go, then made the familiar route to the study window. She heaved it open then lifted herself inside, grinning from ear to ear like a fool.
"That's lovely Plucky…yes, I'm very impressed by how far you can stretch your tongue when you're drunk," Yakko drawled.
He guided Plucky down the sidewalk and to the taxi cab, Plucky's tongue dragging behind them in the grass.
"Bud loog," he said, his voice garbled as he pulled his tongue out another few inches, "izz twiss az long!"
"I'll call the record books," Yakko said.
"Promiz?"
"Promise."
Yakko opened the door and eased him into the taxi. He was about to shut the door when Plucky lunged forward and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"I lub you," Plucky said affectionately.
Yakko stared back at him. "You know Plucky, that's the most action I've had in months, and that's depressing me, so I'm gonna send you home now, okay?"
"Okay!"
Yakko slammed the door shut. "Hanna Barbera and third," he told the driver, "could you make sure he gets inside?"
The cab driver gave Plucky a disgusted look before turning back to Yakko. "We'll see," he grumbled.
"I appreciate it," Yakko said dryly before slapping the roof. The cab driver sped off, and Yakko shook his head.
It was probably in his best interest to check on Buster. He had gone out with his friend a few times, more so out of curbing Buster's habits than personal desire. It seemed to have worked too; while Buster hadn't expressed any interest in limiting his behavior, or even acknowledged that limiting would be a good idea, they had still managed to have fun without another episode of Yakko dragging Buster home. Buster seemed to noticeably contain himself in Yakko's presence, but Plucky did nothing but encourage him, and Yakko was left to clean up the mess.
Yakko made his way to Buster's door, which was open. But when he stuck his head inside he found Babs seated on the bed, her legs folded beneath her as she absently flipped through the channels on the TV. Her ears were down, draping casually over her shoulder and across her neck. Her fingers were curled around a mug of coffee, gripping it, clenching it really, as though she was trying to stop it from running away. They were so tense that the bones in the flat of her hand were protruding, but it did not take away from the softness of the hook her fingers formed. After a moment Yakko realized he was staring at her hands and he quickly caught himself. It didn't matter – she was looking away from him, but she didn't really seem to be looking at anything in particular.
"You shouldn't drink that stuff, it'll stunt your growth," Yakko said.
Babs' ears whipped around her face as she jumped and spun to face him.
"And apparently it does nothing for your nerves," he added.
"Hasn't Bugs taught you to knock yet?" Babs gasped, clutching her chest and looking harried.
"Some of his lessons take longer to sink in," Yakko replied. He lingered, his hands resting on either side of the doorframe. The desire to enter the room was pulling him by the navel, but a small voice in his brain was telling him no, this was Buster's room, this was Buster's girlfriend, and that crossing the threshold of the door meant something much more. He shouldn't go in, it was wrong, unfair, an intrusion. Out of bounds. But then Babs flicked off the television in disgust and the instant the words, "Ugh, this show is embarrassing itself. Come here and talk to me," came out of her mouth, his resistance was broken. So, so easily. Feeling as though he had crossed some kind of boundary, Yakko let go of the door and took a seat on the very edge of the bed.
This was fine. Really. Why wouldn't it be? Of course he could sit on the bed with Babs. After all, they were friends, and that was fine among friends. Friends could sit in the same room. Babs was Buster's girlfriend. He was Buster's best friend. That meant there was some kind of invisible barrier between them. So that was good, right?
Well if it was so good, then why couldn't he just relax and sit on the bed without looking like there was a stick up his ass like a goddamn normal person –
"Yakko?"
He was jolted out of his self deprecation by Babs' questioning stare. Her blue eyes were wide, and she had one eyebrow raised quite high. He mirrored her, quirking his eyebrow and saying quickly, "I'm fine. Where's our resident blue bunny?"
Her scowl was immediate. "Bathroom," she said flatly.
"He's…oh," Yakko muttered. Operation 'Cheer Babs Up' had suffered a misfire. "Do you want me to go check on him?"
"I stop by for a viewing every few minutes. Last time I checked he was sleeping the bathtub."
"Creative."
"Hardly."
"And where do you sleep, a bed? How trite."
Babs snorted. "Better than a water tower."
"You watch too much TV," Yakko said, shaking his head.
"Says the one who thought I lived in a burrow 'til we were fifteen," Babs retorted.
Yakko raised his palms defensively. "Hey, it's not like it would be out of the ordinary. I don't question how a rabbit's brain works, I just observe."
"Are you making fun of rabbits?" Babs said with mock scandal, "oh, I am so telling Bugs."
Yakko pulled a carrot from his hammerspace and took a bite. "Try it Pink," he challenged in a very close imitation of Bugs Bunny, "I dare ya."
This caused Babs to giggle, which in turn caused his neck to feel warm. "Dem's fightin' words," she chorused back in her own surprisingly accurate Bugs Bunny voice.
"Hey, that was pretty good!" Yakko exclaimed, grinning. "Who else can you do?"
Her back straightened and her face shifted into one of overwhelming confidence. "Well, only your adorable little sister, of course," Babs said in a spot-on Dot voice. She fluffed the fur on her cheeks as she sang, "I'm cute, yes it's true…"
"I'm confused," Yakko said in his best Pinky imitation, "are you Babs pretending to be Dot, or Dot pretending to be Babs pretending to be Dot?"
"Slow down Pinky, please, I can only take one syllable at a time," Babs said, this time as Tress.
Yakko pulled a thick pair of glasses from behind his back and slid them onto his face as he slipped into a Scratchensniff impression. "Do not stress yourself Miss Nurse, I will take notes on Mr. Pinky's rambling little psyche. Also, if you could please move my three o'clock head polishing back to four, that would be very good of you."
They broke into fits of laughter, and Yakko, who had forgotten any notion of barriers, found himself leaning towards Babs, the muscles in his back blessedly relaxed. When her dancing eyes met his own, he wondered why on earth, in all the years they had known each other, they had never done this before.
Wakko tiptoed carefully down the stairs. Some of the steps in Buster's house creaked and he didn't want to wake anyone up. It wasn't that sneaking downstairs to get a late night snack was discouraged, it was more that any bump in the night recently had Yakko in a screaming panic and convinced that his entire family had been kidnapped.
The house always seemed very calm at night, and Wakko liked it. It made everything peaceful, especially when there was a light breeze…
A light breeze?
Looking over his shoulder, Wakko found that the window in the study was wide open. A full stream of moonlight was shooting in, so bright and steady that it looked light a solid block that Wakko could walk on. He rolled his eyes. Dot must've forgotten to close it after visiting her twitchy little boyfriend. How Yakko hadn't caught her yet was beyond him – maybe if Yakko didn't spend his every waking moment with every rabbit in Toontown he might've noticed by now.
Wakko stepped into the study, about to close the window, but stopped short before he even reached the desk. Something wasn't right. He didn't know what it was…the room was still…strangely still. All the ambient sounds of the night seemed to have died out, and Wakko suddenly felt very aware of each breath he took, of the particles dancing in the beam of moonlight, of his own fingers starting to shake. The moonlight seemed cold now, menacing even. He heard a slight tap, and his heart jumped to his throat. He straightened up and held himself completely still, stiller than the night. Feeling clammy, Wakko's eyes darted about the room. The action figures that lined Buster's bookshelves glared down at him, and the various shot glasses that were interspersed among them glinted moonlight in every direction, disorienting him.
In a sharp, spastic movement that could have come across as a tic, Wakko slapped the light switch on. The moonbeam was snuffed out as lamplight flooded the room, and for a half second everything appeared normal. The light stabilized him, made him feel safe. A small movement flicked to his right. Wakko turned.
The weasel, hidden in the corner, uncoiled like a snake and lunged at him with alarming speed. Wakko cried out but the weasel collided with him and knocked the sound straight out of his chest. His back crashed into the bookcase, his head slamming against the shelves and sending action figures cascading over them. The shot glasses toppled off the shelves and burst like little bombs on the floor. This startled the weasel enough for Wakko to push him roughly away. His head spinning so badly he felt sick, he barely caught a glimpse of no less than six weasels crawling in the study's corners as he stumbled out of the study. He slammed the door shut behind him just in time to hear the crunch of a weasel colliding with it face first.
Wakko raced through the kitchen and into the foyer, ignoring the pain in his head and back, bellowing for help, for Yakko, for anyone, for everyone to get out. A fluttery scraping noise stopped him though; the weasels were catching up to him, their legs and arms moving frantically as their claws slipped on the kitchen floor. On instinct Wakko reached behind his back and hefted out fistful of banana peels. He hurled them at the weasels feet and kept running, not pausing to check if it worked. A surprised yelp and a loud crash, however, told him it did.
He rounded the corner into the foyer so tightly that his feet skidded out beneath him. He made a wild grab for the banister at the base of the staircase but his momentum carried him around and all but threw him to the floor. Laying flat on his back, Wakko heart pounded ink into his ears when he saw a dark figure that moved unnaturally fast barreling straight for him down the stairs. A moment later he realized it was Yakko, who jumped the last five stairs and landed with a thud beside him. Yakko dropped to his knees and grabbed Wakko's shoulders, shouting, "What happened?" His face incredibly close. When Yakko absently stroked his hair, Wakko noticed that his brother's hands were shaking. "God, Wakko, are you okay? Are you hurt? What's going on? What – "
"Weasels!" Wakko cried, cutting him off and pushing himself up, "They're everywhere – knock it off, I'm fine – we have to get out, right now – "
A terrible shriek followed by something heavy colliding with them cut Wakko off, sending him and his brother to the ground. Two weasels were upon them, teeth bared, their moist breath pouring onto his face. If fear didn't make Wakko gag, the smell certainly would.
"Altoids," Yakko grunted as he caught a weasel in the face with his elbow, "ever heard of 'em?"
Wakko kneed the other weasel in the stomach with all his might, his throat too thick with shock to say anything. But for every weasel he kicked off there was another one to fill its space, and it looked like even Yakko couldn't throw off wave after wave of attack. There were too many, and they were stronger somehow – their bodies didn't seem as malleable as the ones at the park had, there was more evidence of muscle, more bone and sinew. This time there was no ink coming off on his gloves. Now there was nothing but teeth and saliva and claws –
A deafening BANG! CRACK! filled the air along with a blinding flash. The weasels cried out in alarm and scattered like roaches, leaving Wakko and Yakko alone on the floor.
"What the – " Yakko muttered, and Wakko looked up to see Babs on the staircase, black soot covering her forearms.
"Acme Firecrackers," she panted, "Buster had them in his closet." At this, her ears perked up, and she turned to the stairs. "Buster? Buster, get down here!"
Wakko watched as she called his name, again and again, but Buster's face did not appear. "C'mon Buster…" he heard Yakko whisper.
"What's happening?" Dot shrieked from the top of the stairs. Her fingers were gripping the banister and her face was whiter than normal.
"Stay right there Dot!" Yakko commanded loudly.
She was joined seconds later by Buster, who stumbled out of the bathroom, rubbing his face and groaning, "What the hell's going on?"
"Oh, you know, nothing much," Yakko drawled, "Oh, but by the way, your house is under siege."
"Under…damn it, what?" Buster blurted, visibly struggling to wake himself up. He turned around and dashed back into the bathroom.
"Buster! What are you doing, get back here!" Babs cried.
Yakko suddenly grabbed Wakko by the shoulder, pulling him close. "Babs," Yakko called, "grab Dot and get her and Wakko out of here, I'll take care of Buster – "
Wakko shook his head. "Yeah right," he challenged, "You can't take all these guys by yourself!"
"And I'm not letting you take any of these guys," Yakko snapped back.
"I can help!"
"Not the best time to argue with me, Wakko."
Wakko glared at him, his frustration mounting. If the situation wasn't so threatening he would have argued more, but one look over Yakko's shoulder persuaded him otherwise. The weasels had formed a circle around them that was slowly closing as they regained their nerve.
"How many are there? Can we handle them?" Babs asked, craning over the railing to count them.
At the same time, Yakko and Wakko turned to the kitchen. What looked to be a dozen weasels were now scurrying in, their eyes reflecting the pale moonlight.
"Don't think so, looks like they brought friends," Yakko said in an obvious effort to stay calm. "Give me another firework Babs, I'll hold 'em off while you get everyone to the car."
"Can't, those were the only ones we have," she said quickly, throwing something out of her hammerspace at one of the weasels that was sneaking toward her. It hissed and backed off.
Dot wrapped her arms around the banister as though it were a life preserver. "Now what?"
The biggest and scruffiest weasel edged forward and took a snap at Wakko's leg. He jumped back into Yakko, who took a swing at the weasel with a crowbar.
"I'm leaning toward a hasty retreat," Yakko muttered.
Buster burst from the bathroom and took the stairs two at a time to reach Babs. The fur on his face was dripping wet. At Babs' questioning look, he muttered "needed to wake myself up" and lunged forward to grab her wrist. "How'd they get in here?"
Wakko glanced up at Dot. They locked eyes for a moment, and he watched as horror spread across on her face as she realized what had happened. She looked ill.
But Buster's presence seemed to have unsettled the weasels, and three of them struck toward him. Their claws tore at the wood and wallpaper as they desperately tried to scale the staircase.
"Buster, watch it!" Yakko yelped. Wakko felt Yakko's hand tighten on his shoulder.
"What?" Buster yelled, whipping around. Droplets of water flung off his ears as he turned, spraying the weasels in the face. They cried out as if burned, and their shrieks of pain were so awful that Dot slapped her hands over her ears. Wakko cringed, and Buster threw himself back into Babs, startled that he had caused such a commotion. The weasels writhed about on the floor, colliding with each other in pain and confusion. Still grimacing, Wakko glanced at his brother, who frowned back at him.
The river…the snow…
"Water," Wakko breathed.
"My thoughts exactly," Yakko said, and reached behind his back. He withdrew a bottle of seltzer water and held it in front of him defensively, like a gun. The weasels drew back collectively, hissing and spitting, every eye trained on the bottle of water. Noticing this, Wakko pulled out his own seltzer bottle. He looked at his, then quickly flicked his eyes over to Yakko's bottle. His was bigger, shinier, the water was clearer. Something in Wakko's chest deflated slightly.
"That's right," Yakko announced snidely, "I've got…water…and don't think I don't know how to use it!" He paused. "Because I don't," he added quietly.
But the weasels didn't seem to hear him. The three who had jumped Buster were still rolling on the ground in pain. And then, amongst the shrieks of agony, one of the weasels cried, quite clearly, "Bad!"
Wakko snapped his head back to Yakko again. "Did he just say bad?" Wakko asked, his stress over the situation replaced with abject surprise.
"Bad!" the weasel shrieked again as though to confirm Wakko's suspicion, "bad, bad!"
A chorus of "bad!" erupted from the rest of the weasels, who chirped the word to each other, themselves, and no one in particular like a flock of birds.
"That's annoying," Dot mumbled.
"Since when can they talk?" Babs asked.
"I don't count that as talking," Yakko drawled.
"I don't care what they're doing, get them out of my house," Buster moaned, rubbing his head.
Wakko eyed the kitchen nervously. More of them were crawling in, some of them wearing tshirts, some of them swathed in rags, others wearing nothing at all. While they certainly didn't appear healthy, they seemed to be slightly more focused, more in control of their own bodies.
"Uh, I think we're going to be the ones getting out of the house," Wakko said quietly.
"Best idea I've heard yet," Yakko said, still holding the bottle out in front of him. "C'mon guys, you heard the man…Dot, Babs, you guys go out first, start the car, we'll meet you there – "
"No way dude, this is my house, I'm not letting a bunch a' dirty bastards kick me out!" Buster protested aggressively. He teetered a bit on the staircase.
"Does being drunk impair your ability to count?" Babs snapped, "there's at least four of them for every one of us."
"I'm not drunk, I'm – "
" – hungover," Babs finished. "Great timing, Buster."
"Yeah, 'cause I was supposed to know a bunch of guys were going to break into my house."
"You're missing the point – "
"Yo!" Yakko shouted loudly, causing Buster, Babs, and several weasels to jump, "why don't you save that thought for later? You know, when we're not being attacked?"
"I'm not leaving my goddamn house," Buster growled, locking eyes with Yakko.
Wakko watched his brother's face soften slightly. "I don't think you have a choice, Ears," Yakko said, his voice low and consoling.
The resistance faded from Buster's face, and he looked around his house, and then at the weasels. In a small way, Wakko knew how he felt; they had left New York because of some random attack, they had been chased from their home. He remembered packing his belongings until his room was bare. He remembered feeling humiliated and infuriated all at once as he took one final sweep of his room before he shut the door.
"Stick close to me Dot," Babs said, pulling his sister close and holding her own seltzer bottle out.
Buster pulled out a bottle as well and joined Yakko's side. Together, the three of them formed a barrier between the staircase and the door, allowing Babs and Dot to slip outside. The weasels watched them hungrily, edging close but then quickly retreating when one of them threatened it with a water bottle.
"Go, Wakko," Yakko commanded when Babs and Dot had left.
Wakko's fists clenched. "But – "
"I mean it!"
Wakko opened his mouth to protest but a weasel snapped so close to his ear that he yelped instead. Buster and Yakko both raised their seltzer bottles, but Buster fumbled with his and ended up spraying Yakko in the side of the face.
"Damn it," Buster hissed as Yakko spluttered. The weasel reared and lunged again. Wakko, panicked, swung his bottle – Buster swung too – and they both caught the weasel in the head. The two bottles gonged against his skull and Wakko drew back in surprise – the weasel's head did not squash upon impact, as most other toons would have done. The bottle collided with solid, unyielding bone, and the weasel slumped to the floor without any further ado. Wakko's mouth felt like paper.
"Whoops," Buster muttered.
Rubbing the last bits of water from his eyes with the heel of his palm, Yakko blinked down at the weasel's crumpled form.
"Damn it guys, you could have killed him!" he snapped.
"So sorry Yak, next time we'll let him have his way with you, promise," Buster retorted.
"Bad! Bad!" squeaked several of the weasels.
"Shut up!" Wakko shouted along with Yakko and Buster. Suddenly his brother was grabbing him by the back of his tshirt and was dragging him to the door.
"What are you doing? I can walk!" Wakko protested.
Yakko, who was holding out his bottle defensively with his other hand, replied, "Maybe, but you definitely can't follow directions, so here we are."
Yakko pushed him as he and Buster backed out of the house, holding the weasel at bay with nothing but the seltzer bottles. The weasels stalked them hungrily, but between the water and the unconscious weasel in their wake, none of them dared to come close.
"What the hell Yak – "
"Jesus Wakko, do you see this?" Yakko cried as he gestured to the weasels. His voice had pitched upward. "Why are you arguing with me right now? Now for the love of god, just get in the car!"
Babs' and Dot's pale faces peered out at them through the windshield. The car was humming and ready to leave just as much as they were. But despite all the horror he'd felt just minutes ago, Wakko couldn't help but resent the way Yakko guided him to the backseat, told him to wear his seatbelt, hovered over him like a child. When the weasels first attack, all he wanted was Yakko. But now, when things were clearer – sort of – he wanted to handle it on his own. It was as though he was made in two parts that couldn't reconcile themselves.
No sooner had Buster thrown himself in the passenger seat the weasels were upon them. They swarmed the car, their claws scraping across the glass with shrill screeches. Dot cried out when loud thumps above them indicated they were stomping on the hood. One weasel, determined for Wakko, threw himself headlong into Wakko's window. He crashed against it with a painful thump and staggered backwards. Wakko made a face at him from the safety of the car.
Babs turned to face them in the front seat, ignoring the throng of weasels squirming against the windshield. "Where are we going?" she shouted above the clamor.
"My folk's house," Buster proposed, "it's close."
"Which is why we can't go there," Babs countered.
"Why not?"
"Buster, your parents live across the street, even these idiots aren't stupid enough to not follow us there. They could watch us pull in the driveway from here!"
"Ears probably just wants to pick up his laundry," Yakko quipped.
Dot wheeled on him, her eyes wild. "How are you joking right now?" she shrieked.
Another weasel threw himself against Wakko's window, its thick drool sliding slowly down the glass. Wakko thumped his fist against the window, and the weasel yelped and dove away.
"Guys, do I need to pull the car over – oh wait, we're not driving yet," Babs snapped irritably.
"Let's go to Skippy's," Dot blurted.
Yakko quirked an eyebrow at her. "Why Skippy's? Does he have a can of weasel-be-gone I'm not aware of?"
Turning to him with a dramatic, pleading look on her face, she whispered, "I want to make sure he's okay!"
Wakko watched as Yakko's hesitation crumbled all over the place. The half of Yakko that was hell bent on keeping Dot away from every boy on the planet seemed to be warring with the half that wanted to appease Dot's every whim. His face kept shifting between stern and unyielding to soft and painfully sympathetic. Wakko rolled his eyes. What a marshmallow.
"It's not a half bad idea," Babs reasoned, "it would at least give us somewhere to collect ourselves."
"Yeah, and maybe Nutsy can tell the weasels to stay off his lawn!" Buster added, finishing with a gruff Nutsy impression. He glanced out the window at the writhing weasels on the hood of the car. "Hey, don't scratch the paint, assholes!" he barked, and gave the windshield a good kick that caused three weasels to fall off the car in surprise.
"Nutsy's house isn't that far, you think they won't follow us?" Yakko asked, sort of pathetically.
"Not if I drive the way I plan to," Babs said with a nervous smirk.
Babs and Dot were staring at Yakko now, and Wakko knew the battle was over. Yakko could hardly argue with one girl, let alone two. All Wakko had to do was watch Yakko's face as it crumpled.
"Fine, Nutsy's it is," he groaned, laying his hands on Wakko's and Dot's shoulders.
Not needing any further permission, Babs threw the car into reverse and slammed the pedal to the floor. Burning rubber filled Wakko's nostrils before he and his brother and sister were thrown into the front seats. The small amount of panic had given Babs a leadfoot and they were out of the driveway before Wakko could even blink. The weasels toppled off of the car in clumps, and the lone weasel that managed to cling to the hood was sent skidding across the asphalt as Babs swung onto the street. His heart still pounding, Wakko let out a breath he'd been holding for way too long. Looking down, he noticed that he was gripping Yakko's pant leg very tightly. Embarrassed, he quickly let go.
As they hurtled down Windsor, Wakko turned in his seat to look out the rear window. The weasels were trying to chase them down, stumbling over themselves in the middle of the street, but they didn't seem to be able to toon sprint. Wakko watched as their eyes, reflecting glassily in the moonlight, got smaller before they disappeared entirely.
"How the fuck did they get in my house?" Buster burst out angrily, smacking the dashboard and making Babs jump.
Yakko turned to Wakko, frowning. "Tell me what happened sib. Tell me exactly what happened."
Wakko swallowed. He could hear Dot's shallow breathing from the other side of the seat, but her whole tiny body was hidden by Yakko's. As much as she drove him crazy, as much as he couldn't stand her sometimes, he didn't feel right about completely tattling on his sister. If Yakko found out…he shuddered. He remembered how mad he was when he found out she was talking to boys on the phone after bed time. He could barely imagine what Yakko would say about sneaking out of the house to go hang out with them.
"Uh…well, um…they came in through the study," Wakko said, wishing he didn't sound so shifty.
"The study?" Yakko repeated. "How'd they get in there?"
"Yeah, tell me so I can seal it up with goddamn turpentine," Buster snapped.
"Buster!" Babs said, scandalized.
"The got in through the window," Wakko said. "It was open."
Babs glanced at her boyfriend. "Buster, I swear to God…"
"What?" Buster asked loudly.
"Did you leave the window open when you got home?" she pressed.
"Uh, no Babs, I didn't. Despite what you may think, I know how to get into my own damn house. I used the door."
"Judging by the state you were in when you got home, I wouldn't be shocked if you tried the chimney," Babs said quietly.
"Why am I always the first one you blame? There were other people in the house you know."
"Well I know wasn't me or Yakko, and let's be honest, it wouldn't be the first dumb thing you did when you were drunk."
Wakko sucked in his breath. Ouch.
Buster drew a frustrated hand across his face, dragging at his whiskers. "Why the hell would I leave the window wide open like an idiot?"
Wakko heard Dot whimper softly.
"Guys…" Yakko muttered warningly.
Babs ignored him. "Why, Buster? Because you just spent the last three hours sleeping in the bathtub, so excuse me for questioning your decision making skills!"
"Okay, you know what Babs? Don't believe your own boyfriend, yeah, that's fine. Because you're dating Buster, the lying idiot who's too stupid to close his own window – "
"Alright, that's enough!" Yakko shouted, and Wakko was relieved. Their fighting was making a night with the weasels sound like a fun. "It doesn't matter who left the window open! Besides, it might not have been any of us – Wakko found it that way. Buster, you said it wasn't you, and I believe you. I know it wasn't Babs or myself. And Dot, she…"
Yakko, who had turned to their sister as he said this, trailed off. Feeling an icy chill run down his back, Wakko craned forward to get a look at Dot. Please, be smooth about it, don't give anything away…
No such luck. Her face was paralyzed with fear and guilt, her whole body was shaking, and she gaped up at Yakko like a fish. Nice job, Dot.
"Dot, did you…" Yakko started, but trailed off again in a very rare demonstration of being at a loss for words.
Wakko cleared his throat and said, "Uh, it was probably an accident." He couldn't help it, his stupid sister looked so upset he felt bad not saying something.
But at this, Dot reeled on him, her shoulders raised and her eyes sparkling. "Just rat me out, why don't ya?" she snapped, waspish.
Wakko blinked at her. "What? I said you probably did it by accident!"
Yakko cut their sister off before she had a chance to respond. "Knock it off you guys – Dot, what happened?"
Angry tears were piling up in her eyes. Still glaring sharply at Wakko, Dot mumbled, "Fine, I left the window open. And thanks to my brilliant brother, the whole world knows."
If he changed emotions any more rapidly tonight Wakko was going to get mental whiplash. Any sympathetic feelings he had towards his sister had evaporated. That ungrateful, spiteful little…because of Dot, he had nearly been killed by a bunch of lunatic toons, he had tried to cover for her over it, and she still found a way to turn it around on him. She didn't even care. That was it. He was done.
"Oh yeah? Well maybe I'll let the whole world know you left the window open after you were done sneaking around with your boyfriend," Wakko hissed coldly.
Outrage rippled over Dot's face. If he didn't know any better he would have thought steam had started streaming out of her ears. But her anger quickly faded to abject horror when Yakko said in a slow, low voice, "What?"
A chill seemed to settle over the car. Buster, uncharacteristically silent and smirk-less, was watching them over his seat, while Babs' eyes steadily flicked from the road to the rearview mirror.
Dot's mouth opened and closed as she stuttered, "I…I-I…"
"Don't tell me you were sneaking out, Dot Warner," Yakko said, starting slowly and gaining momentum as his anger increased, "because that would mean you ignored me when I said, 'don't go anywhere alone,' a very simple rule that even the simplest toon could follow. And I know you're not a simple toon."
"I…I w-was with Skip, w-with Skip – " Dot stuttered.
"Do not get me started on the fact that it was with a boy!" Yakko snapped, treating the word 'boy' the same way one might say 'serial killer.' "Do not tell me that you've been sneaking out at night, do not tell me you didn't think about the fact that we're in the middle of an unsolved kidnapping spree, and do not tell me you forwent the little part where there are a bunch of psychotic toons on the loose who I'm sure you led straight to our house during one of your little exploits!"
Dot, who had started crying long before that dire tirade had finished, gasped guiltily. Recovering, she looked at him icily through her tears. "Well what did you want me to do? You made Skippy feel like a leper whenever he came over to the house - "
"How do you think it makes me feel to find out you won't listen to me when all I'm doing is trying to keep you safe?" Yakko exclaimed, his anger only building.
She sobbed, "I'm sorry Yakko – "
"That's not even a scrap of how sorry you're gonna be," Yakko said darkly.
Wakko gulped. Dot was crying, and Yakko still managed to sound that cold? Damn, he was pissed.
"And you," Yakko snapped, turning to face him.
Uh oh.
"You knew about this?" Yakko continued, his voice bordering on incredulous.
"What?" Wakko blurted, "I, well, sort of, I wasn't totally sure – "
"You knew your sister was directly disobeying the rules and endangering herself, and after all the thought you put into it, you didn't even think that it was something I might want to know?"
"Whoa, Yak, chill out," Buster said quietly, but Yakko didn't seem to hear him.
Wakko stared at Yakko, unsure of whether he wanted to cower from or punch his brother. "Well god, I'm sorry, I just wasn't…I didn't think – "
"Well that's obvious," Yakko snapped harshly. It took everything Wakko had to keep that insult from reflecting all over his face. He clenched his fists, trying to find words to hurl back, ones that would hurt just as bad, but he couldn't find any. His mind was too jumbled, there was a pounding behind his ears and his chest felt too constricted.
"As soon as we have a home for you to be grounded in, you're both grounded," Yakko announced, glaring at them.
Wakko's ears jolted up. "What? Why am I grounded? She's the one that snuck out!"
"And you're the one that didn't do anything about it," Yakko shot back.
Wakko opened his mouth to protest, but Yakko cut him off, "If you argue with me Wakko Warner so help me you will be grounded until you turn eighteen. Let's not make this night worse than it already is."
With that, Yakko leaned back against the seat, shut his eyes, and rubbed the bases of his ears. Dot, for her part, had not put up one word against Yakko, making no sound aside from the occasional sniff or sob. Snorting angrily, Wakko turned to stare out the window. His reflection stared back at him; his fur was mussed, and his scowl was so heavy it made him look five years older. For a moment he suddenly looked so much like Yakko that it startled him. But as the shock wore off, his fists clenched even tighter. No. He did not want to look like his brother. He did not want anything to do with his brother. He wanted the reflection to go away, he wanted to punch out the window, –
Something odd caught his attention in the reflection. There were several dark marks on his shirt that he hadn't noticed before. Looking down, he saw that the weasel had torn his shirt when it attacked him. But there was something else there as well, many little things actually that were stuck all over his shirt…for one horrible moment he thought it was ink. But the specks were too solid and uniform to be ink. Thankfully. As carefully as he could, Wakko picked at one of the pieces.
It was a pine needle. It was so sticky with sap that it stuck to his glove.
"We're here," Babs said delicately as they pulled into Nutsy's driveway.
A headache for the record books was gathering in the corners of Yakko's forehead as he got out of the car. His siblings crawled out as well, Wakko stuffing his hands in his pockets while Dot hastily wiped at her face. He could already feel the familiar swellings of guilt and embarrassment over his screamfest at them, but a lethal combination of sickening fear for their wellbeing and his own pride kept him from apologizing.
"Who are you calling?" Buster asked his girlfriend as Babs steadily tapped the numbers on her phone.
"Cops," she muttered.
Yakko ignored the small jolt he felt at the thought. Logic pointed out that there was no way the police could bother him about the weasels now, not when over a dozen of them had just broken into Buster's home. But the way the police had been hounding him suggested that logic wasn't in their vocabulary. Deciding that he had enough to worry about tonight, Yakko pushed it out of his thoughts and knocked on the door.
Loud footsteps preceded the door swinging open to reveal Skippy. "Oh, hi gu – " Skippy cut short the instant he saw the look on Yakko's face. "I'll…go get Nutsy," he mumbled to the floor before disappearing into the house. Yakko shot a glance at Dot. She was hiding her face.
Nutsy's muffled shouts grew louder as he slowly hobbled toward the door. Throwing Yakko the grumpiest look he had ever seen, Nutsy grumbled, "You have any idea what time of the night it is?"
"Eleven oh-eight," Buster chirped, grinning.
"Which is the same time that we need to sincerely apologize but insist that you let us in," Yakko said calmly, pushing Wakko and Dot through the door first, followed by Babs and Buster.
"Who the, what the – " Nutsy stammered as the train of toons entered his house. When Yakko tried to follow them, Nutsy swung his cane across his chest, blocking him. "You're that yammery brat from that show!" Nutsy exclaimed.
"Animaniacs, the show that your cousin Slappy starred in, yes," Yakko drawled.
"You young upstarts, you all think you can just stampede into a grown man's home in the middle of the goddamn night, smart as you please…I bet you expect me to bring out tea and cookies!"
"Could you?" Wakko asked.
"No!"
"You shouldn't offer your guest amenities you have no intention of providing, it's rude," Yakko said, examining his fingernails.
"Get out of my house before I hose your hide!" Nutsy bellowed.
"Nutsy – can I call you that?" Yakko said, sliding an arm around the old man's shoulders.
"It's Mr. Squirrel to you, ya crackpot," Nutsy growled, shrugging him off.
"Alrighty then Mr. Squirrel…have you been watching the news recently?"
Nutsy huffed at him, affronted. "Of course I have! What do you take me for, a sop?"
"I would never," Yakko said dryly, "but being up on your local news, I assume you're aware of the recent kidnappings?"
Nutsy's stony glare prompted Yakko to continue, "Oookay, well, we have a slight problem on our hands, and we need a safe place to stay until the police get here."
The old squirrel moved much faster than Yakko expected. He barely had time to let his body go soft before Nutsy jabbed him squarely in the chest with his cane. "Criminals! Wanted criminals, that's what you are! Get the hell out of my house!" he roared.
Yakko rolled his eyes and was about to protest, but Skippy stepped forward and put himself between Yakko and his much older relative.
"Nutsy, please, they're not criminals! Those weasels are after them and they need a place to hide," Skippy insisted. Babs and Buster nodded fervently.
"Then they sure as hell ain't hiding here when those dirty rats are looking for them," Nutsy growled.
"They were Slappy's friends," Skippy pleaded, "she really liked them."
Yakko stared at Skippy, slightly touched. Considering the death glare he'd given the boy earlier, Skippy had a lot of nerve to want to stand up for Yakko and his family. Maybe he'd have to reduce Skippy's restraining order against Dot from one hundred feet down to fifty feet.
"I don't like them," Nutsy grumbled. His frown intensified the craggy lines of age in his face. His eyebrows were contracted so tightly that his eyebrows looked like one long, hideously furry caterpillar.
Yakko sidled his way into the room. "We'll try not to take it too personally," he said lightly, "thanks Nutsy."
"Mr. Squirrel!" Nutsy barked as he limped out of the living room.
Dot and Skippy were huddled close together, whispering to each other, but one look from Yakko and they darted apart. Wakko was busy inspecting the fish hanging on Nutsy's walls, while Babs was checking the windows. Yakko looked over at Buster, who shrugged and collapsed onto the coach with a groan.
"I feel like someone took a jackhammer to my skull," he said, rubbing his eyes.
Behind him Yakko noticed a Babs distinctly shaking her head, but Buster remained unaware.
"Just one jackhammer?" Yakko asked. He paced around the couch, and the full weight of the night's events began to settle on his shoulders. They had been targeted for a second time, his brother had been attacked again, but this time there were so, so many of them…they were on the cusp of becoming homeless…feeling panicky, Yakko reached into his hammerspace.
To his immense relief, his wallet was there. He opened it out of habit to check its contents, even though it wasn't like anyone could have possibly taken it from him. Money, credit cards, ID, coupon for a free haircut…pictures. He kept several of them in his wallet: one of him and Buster, another of him and Slappy, but mostly ones of his siblings. The newest one, the one that had top billing, had been taken just two weeks ago by Dot with her new camera. It was of the three of them, piled goofily on top of each other on Buster's couch; they had been watching a movie, they had been relaxed, and for one wonderful evening they had been wrapped up, so tight, in the sibling bond they had once so easily shared. Yakko knew his siblings loved him, he did, but strains of time and adolescence were taking their toll. It was as though the three of them had decided to walk somewhere together, but Wakko and Dot suddenly veered off on different paths. He wanted them to be their own people, to grow up into competent adults…he was certainly struggling with that task…but at the same time he wanted them to be little and small, to need him like they used to. Wakko didn't seem to want to have much of anything to do with him anymore. And Dot…well, Dot had found another boy entirely.
She was sitting a chaste distance from Skippy, glowering at the floor. She had the distinct air about her that indicated they were about to enter a vow of silence with one another. He wasn't exactly surprised, he had never really yelled at her like that before…but how could she have done that to him? She could have gotten kidnapped, hurt, killed…if she cared about him at all, even a little, she wouldn't have snuck around. And with a boy…true, it was Skippy, but Skippy was a boy…
"What I wanna know is how every weasel in Toontown got into my house without any of us noticing. I mean, if you added all their brains together they'd be lucky if they could beat Pinky in Trivial Pursuit," Buster griped.
Snapping the blinds shut, Babs strode past him. "Yeah, I can't imagine how they slipped by you. You had a great vantage point from the bathtub," she drawled, looking at him over her shoulder.
Buster sat up angrily, but clutched at his head and slumped back down into the cushions. "Well excuse me for not patrolling the fortress," he snapped, "where were you? It didn't sound like you were first on the scene."
Babs turned away from him fully. "Forget it, I don't feel like arguing with you right now."
This time Buster pushed himself up, his face contorting into a critical mask. "You know what? That's a really good question…where were you, Babs?"
Yakko frowned at his friend. He was sitting up straight now, his ears were erect too. He was looking at Babs as though he'd caught her stealing something, and it made the hair on the back of Yakko's neck stand on end. "Where were you, Babs? You said you knew it wasn't you or Yakko that left the window open. What makes you so sure?"
Babs was staring at him now, her body tense as though she expected Buster to strike like a snake at any moment. She seemed very intent on not looking in Yakko's direction. At all. "We were talking, Buster," she said firmly. "When we heard Wakko yell, we went after him."
"Talking, huh?" Buster snorted. He turned to Yakko, who suddenly realized he had been frozen in place for the last minute. "You seemed pretty sure it wasn't you or her either. Is that all you guys were doing, buddy? Talking?"
"No, we were starting a book of the month club," Yakko joked, desperate to lighten the tension that had a chokehold on him, "of course we were talking. C'mon Buster, what do you think?"
Wakko, Dot and Skippy were watching them now with wide eyes. Yakko prayed that Buster's hearing wasn't as good as those long ears suggested – his heart was drumming against his chest.
"I just thought…" Buster muttered, "…nothing. Nothing dude, I'm sorry, it's just been…"
"A long night," Yakko finished for him.
"You said it," Buster said, and fell back onto the couch. His eyes flicked to Babs, but she had turned her back to him. Yakko offered him a half smirk, but god his heart wouldn't stop pounding.
No one spoke for a minute, and with each passing second of silence the air seemed to get thicker. His siblings didn't want to look at him or at each other. Babs and Buster shared a few glares, and Yakko was afraid that if he spoke to either one of them, his face would give him away. What exactly it would be giving away, however, was a mystery to him.
A loud knock on the front door made everyone jump. "Police!"
"Good, the cops," Babs said as she crossed the room quickly and opened the door. Five police officers from the TTPD were hovering around the doorway – one of them Yakko swore was the girl Miranda from that Bonkers show – and even in the low light Yakko could see that none of them looked very happy. The foremost officer, a burly bulldog toon that was practically bursting out of his uniform, brushed Babs aside with his forearm.
"Nice to meet you too!" she said with mock sincerity, but the bulldog ignored her.
"Which one a you's Warner?" he rumbled, his jowls flopping with each syllable.
"Depends which Warner you're looking for," Yakko said, even though he had a feeling what the answer might be.
"Probably you," the officer retorted, "you Yakko Warner?"
"The one and only."
The bulldog put his meaty hands on his hips. "Well then you're under arrest."
Buster sat bolt upright on the couch even though it caused him to wince. Wakko, Dot and Skippy were all staring at him, mouths open. Even Babs took a step back, and looked quizzically at Yakko.
"Come again?" Yakko blurted. He felt oddly apart from his body, as though he was watching everything take place from afar.
"You heard me Warner, you're under arrest for suspicion of homicide," the bulldog said. The other officers shuffled behind them, closing away the space as though they expected Yakko to try and run for it. At this point it didn't sound like a bad idea. He probably wouldn't get too far though, it would be hard to run when his knees were wobbling so bad.
"Homicide? Wow Yak, who'd ya kill?" Buster joked. He heard Babs mutter something that sounded like, "not the time" to him.
"Funny, that's my question," Yakko said to him. He looked the officer in the eye. "Gotta be honest Officer…eh…"
"Brody."
"Officer Brody, I'm not the murdering type. I think the worst thing I've ever done to someone is taunt them, with lame jokes no less…homicide?" Yakko said. He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't stop himself. "Eh, not my style, sorry. I think you got the wrong toon, I don't know what you're talking about."
Another officer, a wiry, white duck, pointed a finger at Yakko and said, "You've been linked to the murder of three inmates at the State of New York Toon Correctional Facility."
"The weasels?" Yakko blurted, though regretted it even before he saw the spark in the duck's eyes.
"So you do know what we're talking about," he cooed nastily.
"Well yeah, the police were the ones who told us about it," Wakko chimed in.
"Quiet Wak, don't…you know what, that's a great point," Yakko said, turning back to the officers. Something about his brother's support grounded him, it pulled him out of his haze of panic and reminded him that he was innocent, that this was all just a big mistake. But even for a mistake, this was getting out of hand.
"And there is the small, little fact that about thirty of those weasels just broke into our home," Babs added, "you know, the reason I called you guys."
"Yeah, how's that kidnapping investigation going, by the way? You think that maybe a bunch of weasels breaking into people's homes has anything to do with people disappearing from their homes? Oh wait, didn't get to that part yet? Sorry if I spoiled the ending," Yakko jeered.
The bulldog glared at him, his tiny eyes nearly obscured by thick folds of skin. "Quit tryin' to distract us from the subject, smartass. I don't think I could blame a bunch a' those guys for breaking in when you whacked three a' them."
Buster got up from the couch and stood beside Yakko. "Look dudes – and lady," he added to Miranda, "I know Yakko and I know that this is total bullshit. He didn't kill anyone. He can barely make it to the end of Rambo. What kinda proof do you have anyway?"
"We have reason to believe from a specific source that Warner is directly involved with the crime," Miranda said, sounding monotone and official, "his brother and sister will also have to be taken in for questioning."
Feeling his fur bristle at the mention of his siblings, Yakko took and instinctive step to the side to block them from view. Something wasn't right here. The officers looked far too ready to pounce for this to be normal. "What 'source' are you talking about? And where's the warrant?" Yakko asked, trying to keep the aggression out of his voice. Babs had back away from the officers as well and had settled herself on his other side, and Buster's eyes flicked towards her.
"You ain't in the place to argue with us, pal," Brody said gruffly. A hint of a grin was lurking on his fleshy lips.
"I think you're confusing arguing with the law," Babs drawled.
"Watch it girly, anything you say can and will be used against you in court!" the duck threatened.
"Oh good, at least you learned that one in the academy," Babs said dryly.
It did not go unnoticed by Yakko that Brody had rested his hand on his holster. "I want a lawyer," he said quickly. That's what they said in all those inane court dramas, right?
"You ain't getting' one til you come down to the station with us," Brody said roughly, taking a step forward.
"Eh, I think I want one now," Yakko replied, trying to sound as confident as possible. Just like Bugs had said, control…
"Well that's too bad," the duck sneered. It was accompanied by the jangling sound of handcuffs being pulled from his belt.
"Yakko didn't kill anyone!" came a shrill voice, and Yakko whipped around. Dot was giving the police a ferocious look, one that challenged them to disagree with her. Beside her, Wakko and Skippy were nodding forcefully. These things electrified Yakko more than anything else had thus far.
"You won't tell me who your source is, you don't have a warrant, and you don't have a clue," Yakko said, his voice loud but steady, "I didn't kill anyone and I'm not going anywhere with anybody until someone clears this up."
"Well ain't that grand," Brody said as he took slow steps forward. The other officers were spreading out. Realizing they were trying to corner him, Yakko took a step back, which Babs and Buster mimicked. Instinct prompted his hand to settle behind his back, ready to grab something out of his hammerspace at any second. He shifted his eyes ever so slightly to Buster, who gave him the tiniest nod.
"You gonna come quietly, Warner?" Brody asked. There was nothing theatrical about the way he said it. It was more like a question a cat would ask a mouse.
Yakko's body tensed and shifted onto the balls of his feet. Grab the kids and run, hide them, distract the police so they could get away –
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU TWO BIT ROLLERS!" Nutsy bellowed as he came barreling into the living room. They dove out of the way as he came through swinging his cane like a baseball bat and scattering the startled officers. He looked absolutely deranged.
"If there's anything I can't stand more than crooks it's cops!" he roared just as he caught the duck over the head with a solid swing. The officer yowled in pain and scrambled for the doorway, clutching his head.
"Ladies and gentlemen, your deus ex machina for the evening is brought to you by Nutsy," Yakko said as he helped his siblings to their feet.
"He's always had a problem with the police," Skippy said breathlessly, "something about taxes and government and fraud and…something, I don't really get it."
"Don't worry about it, I don't expect you to rationalize the paranoia of an old man with a cane," Yakko said to him. When Skippy tilted his head with a puzzled look, Yakko waved his hand and muttered, "Nevermind."
Buster was trying to shield Babs from the chaos, but she was much more determined to watch Nutsy lay into the officers. As he cracked another over the head with his cane, she cheered happily and pumped the air with her fist. Wakko was clapping.
"I'm thinking this is our golden ticket outta here," Buster said as he struggled to keep Babs in check.
"Couldn't agree with you more," Yakko said.
"Go out the back door," Skippy said, pushing him towards the kitchen.
Dot jumped forward and grabbed his arm. "What about you? Aren't you coming with us?"
Skippy shook his head. "I think I should stay and help Nutsy."
Dot's eyes widened. "But that's just two of you – "
"I think Nutsy's fine by himself," Wakko said, a kind of awed reverence in his voice as he stared. Yakko and the others turned to follow his gaze. Nutsy, looking more rabid than ever, had just pulled a gigantic rifle from his hammerspace. It was a toon rifle, but a rifle nonetheless, and he was shooting it toward the sky from his porch, yelling obscenities into the night as the officers ran for cover.
"And now we know why they call him Nutsy," Yakko muttered.
"I agree with Wakko, I think he's got things under control," Buster added.
"Go, you guys! Get somewhere safe!" Skippy urged as he pushed. "Call me when you're okay!" he said to Dot, who assured him with an, "I will!" Yakko chose to be gracious and ignore the exchange. For now.
They dashed into the backyard. As Babs, Buster, and Wakko climbed over the chainlink fence, Yakko and Dot stopped short to look back. Skippy waved to them from the porch.
"Thanks Skippy, we owe ya one," Yakko said earnestly.
"Don't mention it," Skippy called back. Another gunshot caused him to turn, and when he looked at Nutsy, a grin spread across his face. He turned back to Yakko and Dot. "And don't worry, I'm in good hands."
"Be safe, Skip!" Dot said.
Skippy nodded. "Go!"
Nodding to the boy, Yakko helped heft Dot over the fence before scrambling over it himself. They crossed through the wooded backyard before emerging onto Friz Street.
"Now where do we go?" Buster asked, stepping out into the middle of the road and holding his arms out helplessly.
No sooner had that question gotten out of his mouth when a pair of headlights illuminated him from behind. Buster yelped and dove onto the sidewalk seconds before a fancy looking car screeched to halt beside them.
"What is with you and almost getting run over?" Babs asked him, exasperated.
Yakko never head Buster's response because he too busy staring incredulously at the car in front of them.
"Who is it?" Wakko asked in a hushed voice.
"I don't believe it," Yakko whispered, "it's Bugs!"
The automatic window rolled down, revealing none other than Bugs Bunny himself. "You got it, kiddo," he said, "now get in the car will ya?"
"How'd you find us?" Yakko asked.
"You can ask me all the questions you want after you get into the car."
"You heard the rabbit!" Babs said and began shepherding everyone inside. Yakko threw himself into the passenger seat, and Bugs had his feet on the gas pedal before he shut his door.
"Everyone alright?" Bugs called.
"In a manner of speaking," Babs said as she looked at everyone's exhausted faces.
"How'd you find us?" Yakko pushed, "How'd you even know to look for us?"
Bugs glanced at him. "You look like a wreck, kiddo."
"Why thank you. Now could you please tell me – "
"Okay, keep your pants on – I knew to look for you because I knew you'd be in trouble. And it was easy to find you, it ain't hard to miss three cop cars go flying past your house."
"Trouble? How did you – "
"You watch the news tonight, doc?" Bugs cut over him.
As was becoming the norm between them, Yakko was incredibly focused on him despite the fact that his body was crying for sleep. "No, why?"
"That explains why you're so confused," Bugs mutterd, "remember when I told you about Rocky and the toon drawing ring, and how he got thrown in jail?"
"Yeah, but I gotta say, bringing a convicted felon into the mix does not make this sound very promising," Yakko said.
"That would be because it ain't," Bugs said, "did I tell you which jail he was thrown into?"
Yakko's heart began to beat against his ribcage. "No…"
"State of New York Toon Correctional Facility. Same one as – "
" – the weasels," Yakko breathed.
Bugs nodded. "They said at about noon today, Rocky was missing from his cell. Can't find him anywhere. He escaped."
"And what does this have to do with us?" Yakko asked.
Bugs took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at Yakko's face. "Before he left, Rocky wrote something on his cell wall in what looks like ink."
"What did he write?"
"'Warner did it,'" Bugs said.