Chapter 21: The Blot on the Lot

Wakko nearly smashed the brake pedal through the floor. Beside him Scratchensniff threw his arms over his head and shouted incomprehensible gibberish. The group of weasels in front of him squealed in terror and dashed out of sight. Shutting his eyes and bracing for a crash, Wakko held his breath.

The crash never came. Popping one eye open, Wakko chuckled with delirious relief to see that he'd come within inches of the concrete wall of the soundstage. A scraggly looking toon, washed out by the bright beams of the headlights, staggered out from the tiny space between his bumper and the wall. "Whoops," Wakko muttered to himself. He'd almost turned that toon into a pancake.

"Stay here, Scratchy."

Curious, he slipped out of the car to check on him. It was probably another weasel, but maybe, like Scratchensniff, it was one he knew.

The other toon made it about two steps before his jaw dropped and he froze in his tracks. Wakko mirrored him. Someone may as well have malleted him in the stomach. It would have felt no different.

Yakko.

His older brother stood before him, thin and dirty and shaking. Wakko's eyes traveled up his body. A tattered jumpsuit like the ones the weasels wore was hanging from him, it rose and fell with each heave of his chest. His hair was matted and scraggly, and there were bruises blossoming beneath the pale fur on his face. Their eyes met. His brother's were wide and wild.

Of all things, it was Wakko who spoke first. "Y-Yakko?"

The warmth seeped back into his eyes and emotion broke over Yakko's face like a wave. "Wakko!" He rushed forward and gathered Wakko into a fierce hug. Ink was pounding in his ears and Wakko pressed his face into his brother's chest, fisting his hands in the back of the jumpsuit. He couldn't tell who was trembling more but it didn't matter, because his brother was here and he was alive. Here, alive. Alive alive alive. Surely this could not be real. Above him Yakko was sputtering whispered words so quickly that Wakko could barely make them out. "Wakko – I missed you – tell me you're not hurt – I don't – I'm so – I can't – I'm so sorry – Wakko…"

Yakko grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back to drink in his face. It was all Wakko could do to stare back at him, too scared to blink and have Yakko disappear all over again. His brother's face radiated concern and love in equal measures.

"Wakko, are you okay?"

"I'm – "

"Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I'm not – "

Stretching out a hand to stroke Wakko's face, Yakko laughed softly. It came out as a rasp. "Sorry Wak, it's just…it's been…it's just so good to see you right now."

The words tumbled out of Wakko's mouth before he could stop them. "I'm sorry, all of it, everything's my fault – I went in the car when I shouldn't have, and then Scratchy took me back – that's him by the way, he's a weasel now – anyway, uh, I was with Scratchy, but Pete found us, so I went to find Dot – " Yakko's eyes were growing wider by the second but Wakko pressed on, "– but then they found us again and Rocky got Yosemite and it was really bad and um, we got away and went looking for you but then Pete got us and Dot's here somewhere and I told her I'd go get help – "

"Shh, shh, nothing's your fault, it's okay, you did great…"

Yakko pulled him back into a hug and Wakko collapsed against him. All of the fear and worry was pouring out of his body, leaving him weak and spent. "We were looking for you the whole time Yakko, we kept trying to find you no matter what."

Yakko's arms tightened around him. "That means everything to me."

They stayed like this for a moment before Yakko pulled back once again. "Whaddaya say we go find the Warner sister, huh?"

Grinning so his tongue peeked out his mouth, Wakko nodded. It was the best idea he'd heard in ages.

Frowning, Yakko looked over his head and across the lot. "Buster said they were headed to the west garage…maybe if we really book it we could get there in time… " He ran a hand through his air and looked exhausted.

Wakko dangled the car keys in his hand. "Don't worry about it. I can drive now. We can swing around the back where they keep the tour trams, we'll be there in no time."

Yakko's face went slack and he blinked at him. For a moment Wakko expected to be reprimanded, to be told that he was too young and it wasn't safe. But instead Yakko smiled wider than ever. His eyes were shining and beneath all the grime and ink he was positively beaming, brighter than the sun. Yakko grabbed Wakko by the shoulders, held him at arm's length and said with all the pride in the world, "You are amazing."

Wakko let out a strangled, happy noise and smiled back. That meant everything to him.

The stage was eerily still as the last waves of DIP water settled into place. Dot, still clutching the edges of the diving board, continued to stare at it, convinced that Rocky and Mugsy were going to pop out of it, guns blazing. Mugsy…

Dot bit her lip, startled to feel a lump swelling her throat.

"Rocky? Babe?"

Minerva crept toward the tub with her DIP gun. "Rocky, are you alright? If this is a joke, let me be the first to tell you that it's a stupid one!"

She nudged the edge of the tub with her gun. Dot rolled her eyes and wondered if Minerva seriously thought that was going to do something. But she was dragged out of her thoughts when the gun suddenly turned on her.

"You did this! This is all your fault! You took away my Rocky!" Minerva shrieked, looking manic.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember turning the tub into a DIP bath!" Dot shot back. She stiffened when Minerva jerked the gun at her face.

"It's always you kids! Always! It was always about you on the show, and now the Big Boss wants to make it about you too! It makes me want to puke!"

"What do you mean, the Big Boss?"

"It ain't cute to play dumb, sweetheart! Trust me, I would know!"

The gun jerked again and Dot flattened herself to the board. But a hand darted out, toon-like and seemingly out of thin air, and snatched the gun cleans from Minerva's fingers. Dot followed the arm as it boomeranged back across the room to its owner: Skippy. He clutched the gun in his hands and his eyes found Dot's.

"Picked that move up from Wakko," Skippy said with a timid smile, nodding to his arm.

"Give that back!" Minerva huffed. She actually stomped her foot.

Dot rolled her eyes. "When has asking for your weapon back ever worked?"

Minerva reeled on her, but her string of profanity was cut short by Skippy's quiet voice. "Is this the one?"

Blowing her hair out of her face, Minerva snapped, "Speak up, kid!"

"I said, is this the one?"

"The one what?"

"The gun. You know, the one that you killed my aunt Slappy with."

Dot clutched the board tighter and sucked in her breath. Down below, Minerva took an aggressive step forward. "What's it to you?"

"I need to know. We worked together for years Minerva, and you killed her, so I deserve to know."

There was a pause. "It is. There. Feel better about yourself now? Is that enough closure for you?"

Skippy blinked as though he was coming out of a dream. With precise intent, he pointed the DIP gun at her. Minerva squealed and staggered clumsily backward, tripping over her feet in her attempt to run and smashing to the wood floor. "Skip!" Dot croaked. Her heart was trying to escape through her throat.

"Why?" Skippy demanded, his voice breaking, "Why would you do a thing like that to Slappy? What did she ever do to you? What made you think you could take her from us, from me! I'll never see her again, and for what, for whatever it is you guys think you're gaining from all this? These are our families you guys are breaking apart! I should do to you what you did to Slappy, right now, while I can!"

Somewhere in the back of Dot's mind she knew she wanted to jump from the board, to run to Skippy, to yell, but her body seemed to have frozen itself in place. By this point Minerva had bust into tears and began pleading for her life with pathetic words that Dot could barely hear.

Skippy looked from the gun, then at Minerva. With a sigh, he dropped the gun to his side. "But...but I won't. I can't. I'm not like you. Not at all."

Silence washed through the room as all three toons stared at one another. Then Minerva's face spread into a manic grin, and a bark of laughter escaped from her painted mouth. This seemed to activate Dot's body. Without a second's hesitation she reached behind her back, pulled out the biggest anvil she could muster, and let it fall. It dropped directly on Minerva's head, splintering the wood and smashing her straight through the floor. Dust floated out of the gaping hole where she'd been sitting a moment ago.

Skippy stared up at her with wide eyes. Dot shrugged. "You gotta admit, she at least had that one coming."

Skippy smiled up at her, and it had mingling hints of sadness and relief. He held his hand up to her, inviting her to come down, the little Romeo to her Juliet. She snickered to herself. She'd indulge herself a moment of cheesiness.

But he was interrupted by three weasels darting onstage and grabbing him by the shoulders. One of the gestured wildly to the hole in the middle of the stage, and the others shook their heads. Skippy kicked and struggled in their grasp while Dot lunged toward the ladder. "Stay!" one of the weasels barked at her.

Dot clenched her fists. "What am I, a dog?"

They scurried offstage, dragging Skippy with them. "Dot! Dot!"

"Hang on Skip!"

But she'd barely made it to the first rung of the ladder when the massive red curtains shifted. With a heavy rustling sound they began to part, revealing a dark mass that steadily came into focus. Dot gasped; the audience was composed of the terrified residents of Toontown. It was a full house.

Dot shrunk down against the diving board as hundreds of frightened eyes bore down on their star.

Wakko hadn't even put the car in park before Yakko was racing out the door. Urging Scratchensniff to stay in the car, he chased after him. Wakko had to hurry to keep up with Yakko. Despite looking like he hadn't eaten or slept in weeks, his brother showed no signs of slowing down. Instead he picked up the pace after they'd slipped through the door to the west garage. Wakko heart was beating nearly as quickly as his feet. The thought of the three of them together all at once was calling for him.

The main garage was empty. With a grunt of frustration, Yakko bolted for the rear garage. Flinging open the doors, he let out an impressive swear when it too was empty.

"This must be the wrong garage," Yakko said.

With a sinking feeling, Wakko approached the limp sacks on the floor

"No, she was here, we're just too late," Wakko groaned. He kicked the burlap sack aside. "Pete stuffed us in these."

Yakko ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, well, that's fine, we'll just keep looking, she's gotta be here somewhere, the lot's not that big, she's feisty, she can handle herself until we find her, right? Right. I mean, she lit you on fire once, that's gotta count for something. They might've taken her to stage seventeen, it's usually empty ever since Pesto and Bobby puked their guts out in the corner that one night – "

Tuning out Yakko's babbling, Wakko crouched to inspect the sack for any sort of clue. Determining it to be useless, he threw it aside. But beneath it, he noticed a strange set of faint footprints. He pressed his nose to the ground for a closer look. Small, pointed feet, barely inches apart.

"Yakko – "

" – or maybe they went to Plotz's office, he's got the mini fridge – "

"Yakko!"

"What?"

"Rocky has her!"

"Rocky? He's here?"

Wakko nodded, wringing his hands. "Yeah. It's bad Yakko – he um, he got Yosemite Sam. With DIP."

Yakko's face paled underneath the grime. "Yosemite?"

"Yeah and – " Wakko slapped his hand to his forehead, "oh no…I have all of Brain's stuff!"

"Care to elaborate, second sib?"

"Brain made this stuff, it's called FLIP, and it's supposed to protect toons from DIP. He gave it to us, but I took it all. Dot doesn't have any!"

Suddenly Yakko's hand clenched on his shoulder, and Wakko was about to question him when he noticed two figures, one tall and lanky and one short and squat, sneaking out of the shadows.

"Looks like it's the Warner brothers and their sister…not!" cackled the tall one.

Yakko rolled his eyes. "Congratulations Mortimer, I think you just insulted all of comedy with that joke. You should be proud. Don't listen to him Wakko, you're too young to have humor ruined for you."

The mouse named Mortimer pulled a DIP gun from his hammerspace. "You hear that Bosko? Rocky's got his sister on the stage and he still thinks he's a comedian. Quite the brother, ain't he?"

Wakko growled and took a step forward, but Yakko gently guided him back. "Manners, sib," he said, "our friend Morty just told us where Dot is. If anything we should be thanking him."

Mortimer blinked in shock the second before Bosko walloped him with a beefy fist. "You idiot! " the fat little toon roared. "You and that damn mouth of yours!"

"Says the toon who called good ol' Morty here a 'Micky Mouse wannabe,'" Yakko drawled.

Whipping around with his gun, Mortimer fixed Bosko with a hard stare. "Say that to my face, ya two-timin' schnook!"

Bosko, whose face looked like it had seen its better days, pulled out his own gun. "No, on account of I never said it to begin with! Warner's brain is toast, he's makin' stuff up!"

Out the corner of his eye, Wakko caught Yakko's wink. Smirking, Yakko continued, "I don't know about that. I distinctly remember Mortimer saying…now what was it…oh, I remember: that he'd seen spilled ink with more talent than you. And at least spilled ink doesn't get arrested half as often."

"You low-life, miserable hack, piece of sh – "

Bosko charged forward with a roar. Wakko could only assume it would have been more impressive with a taller toon; Bosko's fists were swinging uselessly through the air as Mortimer held him back with an arm.

Wakko was halfway through a snort when he felt Yakko dragging him back to the car. "Get any lessons in getaways when you were learning to drive, sib?"

"Uh…"

Hands shaking, Wakko climbed behind the wheel. Yakko threw himself into the seat next to him and patted his shoulder. "Just focus on getting us to the main stage. I'll make sure the Wonder Twins over there don't throw us any surprise parties. As much as they hate each other, I think they hate us just a teensy bit more. Besides, from what I just saw, you got all the driving skills in this family. With me behind the wheel, I don't think we'll make it out of the garage."

Despite the queasy feeling in his stomach, Wakko couldn't hold down a proud grin. He threw the car in reverse and tore out of the garage. They swung around the far corner of the building and into the lot. The tower was passing by them on their right when Wakko caught a large whiff of DIP. "Ugh," Yakko muttered, "I'll never get used to that smell – "

The roar of another engine cut him off. In the rearview mirror Bosko and Mortimer were tearing towards them in Minerva's van. They were gaining on them at a startling rate, and Wakko gulped.

Yakko lowered his window. "Pull to the left!"

Wakko's ears raised in panic as Yakko hefted himself out the window so his legs were the only things left in the car. Wakko blinked in shock. Wherever Yakko'd been for the last few months, it must have made him crazy. Maybe he should remind Yakko that he had a lot less chance of getting a face full of DIP if he stayed in the car. But then Bosko rammed the back of their car, pitching him forward, and Yakko was yelling, "Left! Left!" so he gasped and swerved.

The back end of the car fishtailed and Wakko pulled wildly at the wheel. To his left was a blur of sound stages flying past them, to his right Bosko and Mortimer, now level with his car, with nothing between them and him but Yakko. Bosko shouted something that Wakko could not hear over the roar of the engine and his own frenzied thoughts, but Yakko yelled something back. It must have been something pretty good, because Bosko's face went straight from angry to enraged so fast it would've made Plotz's head spin.

Then Bosko aimed his gun dead at Yakko's face.

Wakko cried out. He slammed the brake to floor and turned the wheel. There was a tremendous screech and the car spun around at a sickening speed. The lot became a colorless, dizzying blur, and Yakko cried out, clutching onto the window frame for dear life. Surprised, Bosko and Mortimer surged ahead of them, with Bosko's stream of DIP shooting harmlessly into the air. Finally, the car jerked and settled to a stop.

Lifting his shaking head, Wakko saw Bosko and Mortimer making a U-turn and heading for them once more.

Yakko, who barely had one foot left in the car, struggled to hoist himself back in. As Wakko helped drag him by the tail, Yakko said breathlessly, "Bring us back up to the left! C'mon, hit the gas, hit the gas!"

"Yakko, he was going to shoot you! Do you know what that stuff does?"

"Don't worry about it, just do it!"

"But - "

"Wak," Yakko said slowly, looking him in the eye, "trust me on this, okay?"

Wakko stared back at him. Unable to remember a single time in his life when he didn't trust his older brother, Wakko sighed and pushed the gas. He spun them so they were being chased again, but this time he let Bosko catch up to them rather quickly. "Now!" came Yakko's cry, and he swerved to the left again, leaving Yakko face-to-face with Bosko.

"You know, you work too hard," Yakko told him, smiling.

"Grab the wheel Mort, I've got a pest to exterminate," Bosko said calmly, taking aim with his gun.

Yakko's smile didn't falter. "Don't you think you deserve a vacation?"

"Don't you think you should shut up?"

"Clever, Bosko. But seriously, you ever consider relaxing by the poolside? Skiing, perhaps?"

Wakko noticed Yakko's arm slinking behind his back. The stage was getting closer now. Dodging a weasel that scurried in front of him, Wakko held his breath.

"Backpacking through Europe? Heck, how about some white water rafting?" Yakko said, and pulled out a small, yellow box from his hammerspace, which he shoved into the barrel of Bosko's gun.

"What the?" Bosko blurted, trying to shake it out.

Yakko shook his head. "No, no, no. Sheesh, that's not how you do it! You've got to pull the string first!"

In one movement, Yakko pushed Bosko roughly back into his seat while his other hand tugged on the tiny string that hung from the box. Bosko fell back into his seat, swearing, in the second before the yellow box burst open.

The yellow thing grew rapidly in size, and Wakko realized at once that it was an inflatable raft. Mortimer and Bosko's muffled screams could barely be heard as the raft expanded into every last inch of the cabin. The van swerved this way and that before screeching to a halt and disappearing behind them. Wakko reached out to pull Yakko back into the car, who fell into his seat with a bark of laughter. "Saw that in a cartoon once. And they say TV rots your brain."

Wakko pulled his eyes from the lot to glance at him, grinning.

Yakko returned with a smile of his own. "Nice work, Warner brother."

"Ditto," Wakko said.

No amount of screen time could have prepared Dot for the hundreds of eyes that were locked on her own. All of them wide and fearful, all of them wild with the look of a captive animal. Armed weasels guarded each row of seats, daring them to move. They could do nothing but watch her. Dot became painfully aware of the fact that she was the only one onstage. Should she say something? Should she make a run for it? At both stage exits she could see more armed weasels. Watching her, just like the audience.

"Ladies and gentleman!"

A strangely calm, smooth voice purred through the speakers. Several toons gasped or jumped in their seats. Still clinging to the diving board, Dot spun around, searching for the source.

"I would like to welcome you to tonight's event, and thank you all personally for coming."

Dot rolled her eyes. Yeah, like any of them had a choice. Get real.

"You must be wondering why you're all here. I must confess, I haven't exactly been very forthcoming with information, have I? You, all of you, are the proud survivors. You have not spoken out of turn, you have not tried to fight back, you have not tried to defend your more insolent neighbors. You are good. As your reward, you will be the first to witness the rebirth of the cartoon, here, right in front of you. The cartoons that you love, the way they should have been – "

"Who are you?" came a brave voice from the crowd.

Dot heard a low, angry hiss spitting from the speakers. "The fact that you do not know is precisely why this renaissance is necessary. You should know. You won't ever forget. I am the Phantom Blot."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Dot felt as though her stomach had just jumped off the end of the diving board. Where was Wakko when she needed him?

"And I, the Phantom Blot, will be the one to bring you all into a new era of entertainment. One where the immortal toon is the only toon, where two tone is the only tone, one where the human is no longer the superior, because, my friends, we do not need them anymore. But more importantly, I will tell you stories, and I will make you laugh.

"Tonight, I present you my life's work: I will be showing you cartoons. Dozens of them. Hundreds of them. Every cartoon ever made, you will watch on this stage, reenacted properly, and you will see what you have been missing. Forget about your troubles, your concerns. You will never leave, because you will never want to. Just watch!

"For our first act, I bring you the classic Looney Tunes short, 'High Diving Hare.' I trust you are all familiar with it. The protagonist will be played by the eternally young Dot Warner."

Wondering when he name was going to be mentioned by this world-class nut job, Dot looked to audience once more. They appeared to be just as perplexed as she was. All of this chaos and tragedy…just so he could put on a show?

He was insane.

When Wakko brought them to a sliding halt outside the stage, Yakko all but dragged him out of the car. The thought that they were too late was one that his brain was stubbornly refusing to process. If he only moved quick enough, if he only thought fast enough, then the last of the Warner trio would be okay.

They slipped in the same door he and Babs had used earlier, and Yakko gestured for Wakko to be quiet. As if he needed to – his wide-eyed brother hadn't made a peep since they'd left Scratchensniff in the car. Backstage wasn't nearly as bustling as it had been before. Several of the toons he'd seen rehearsing earlier were now gathered at the stage exit, craning to see whatever, or whoever, was on stage. Yakko scanned them, searching for Dot – had she been brainwashed too, like Bugs? – when Wakko tapped him on the shoulder.

"Look."

Yakko followed his gaze to a crack in the curtain. Through he could see the hoard of frightened toons huddled in the audience, terrified to move should the weasels that guarded them gunned them down.

"Brings a new meaning to 'captive audience,'" Yakko muttered. "Whoever's putting on this show must really want toons to see it."

Wakko frowned. "Must be one heck of a show."

"I bet. Let's find out, shall we?"

They tiptoed forward, doing their best to stay in the shadows. A voice was echoing through the speakers, saying something about "the rebirth of the cartoon." Yakko tried to listen and crane over the shoulders of the toons in front of him at the same time.

The stage was nearly empty aside from a high dive and what looked to be a large tub at the bottom of it. Yakko frowned; if he didn't know any better, he'd swear it was a replica of the 'High Diving Hare' set.

"The cartoons that you love, the way they should have been – " boomed the voice again.

"That voice…" Yakko murmured. The fur was rising on the back of his neck.

"The fact that you do not know is precisely why this renaissance is necessary. You should know. You won't ever forget."

Whipping around to face his brother, Yakko whispered, "Wakko, that voice – I know him. That's the – "

"I am the Phantom Blot."

Wakko let out a gasp that Yakko wasn't quick enough to cover. The brainwashed toons turned around as a group, eyeing them suspiciously and still holding their scripts. Yakko and Wakko stared back at them, frozen to the spot, Yakko's hand still covering Wakko's mouth.

"You again!"

Bugs Bunny elbowed his way through the crowd of toons and marched straight up to them. He whacked Yakko on the head with his script and snapped, "I thought I told you to scram!"

When Wakko turned questioning eyes to him, Yakko muttered, "I think he's been brainwashed…well, I hope he has."

"Oh, you mean hypnotized?" Wakko said.

Yakko blinked at him, not sure that he'd heard him correctly. "Come again?"

"Oh, I forgot, you never read the comics…the Blot hypnotizes people, it's one of his tricks. So if the Blot's here, he might've – BRAIN!"

Both Yakko and Bugs jumped back at Wakko's outburst. "I think he just short circuited," Yakko mumbled to Bugs, who simply sneered at him.

"No, listen," Wakko said, his breath quickening, "when me and Dot talked to Brain, he said that there was some sort of ink that Pete and them were making to control people. Like mind control. He didn't know where it came from, and he said that the only one who could use it was the toon who made the ink. It's the Blot, it has to be!"

Yakko glanced at the trickle of ink that he'd noticed in Bugs' ear. Bugs glared at him and said, "Why don't ya take a picture, it'll last longer!"

But Yakko could barely hear him. His mind was spinning…it made sense, all of it…his control over Bugs, the blurring he'd done to Yakko, when he'd been tricked into thinking he was drowning in DIP…

"Wak, you're a genius," Yakko breathed, turning to him, "how do we stop it?"

Wakko, who'd grinned at the 'genius' compliment, practically deflated. "I dunno…I mean, it's gotta be something with the Blot, he's controlling it."

"Right. And if he's controlling it, then we've gotta make him lose control."

"For our first act, I bring you the classic Looney Tunes short, 'High Diving Hare.' I trust you are all familiar with it."

Their attention returned to the stage and the Blot's echoing voice.

"The protagonist," the Blot said, "will be played by the eternally young Dot Warner."

Yakko was only dimly aware of Wakko grabbing his arm. All he knew was that his feet were carrying him forward of his own accord, pushing away from Bugs and through the crowd of toons to the stage exit. There, atop the high dive, was his little sister. The jolt of electricity that had shot through him when he'd seen Wakko was back, lighting his body on fire, urging every inch of him to run to her, weasels and DIP and Blot be damned. After all those months, there she was – visibly shaken, but unharmed.

Wakko looked up at him with feverish eyes. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," Bugs answered for him. He strode up to them and shoved them away from the stage. "The Phantom Blot has a show to put on, and you two furballs aren't gonna get in the way. He's a star, after all."

"What show? Why does he need Dot?" Yakko demanded.

Bugs rolled his eyes. "How should I know? I'm no inksplot. Only inksplots know how to be stars, the Phantom Blot said so."

"What's he talking about?" Wakko asked, his eyes flicking between Yakko, Bugs, and Dot.

Yakko opened his mouth, but shut it again as several clouded thoughts were becoming clearer. Bosko had said the Blot believed their show was real, that he thought they really were trapped in a tower since the thirties. And what Oswald had said, about all of them wanting to be stars again. The thoughts were slowing knitting themselves together, but he couldn't see the whole tapestry yet…

Wakko looked up at him. "Yakko…"

Yakko turned to the stage again. He was guaranteed a DIP bath if he ran out on stage. He needed a plan –

"It's filled with DIP, you know."

Yakko turned to find Minerva leaning against the doorway, her whole body one long, languid curve. She looked like she'd been dragged through hell and back. Aside from his mouth suddenly going dry he wasn't quite sure how to feel about the sight of her. She'd tricked him, but then he'd been stupid enough to fall for it. Beside him Wakko was bristling.

"What do you mean?" he asked neutrally.

She jerked her head towards the stage. "The tub they're about to dunk your sister in. It's filled with DIP. I doubt the Blot knows that…and god knows how he hates when his plans get ruined…"

"Dot's playing Bugs' part, and he never falls in the tub," Yakko said. Not that it helped Bugs' situation though…

"Yeah, in the original script maybe. Have you read the one the Blot wrote?"

"She's lying," Wakko snarled. Yakko couldn't remember the last time he'd sounded so ready to mallet someone.

"You really want to take that chance?" Minerva asked, arching a perfect eyebrow.

Yakko gave her a hard look. "Why are you telling us this? You don't exactly have the best track record in the 'help the Warners' division."

Her eyes narrowed and she hissed, "You think you're in the position to question me?" She took a moment to breath, then plucked at the broken strap of her dress. "I've ruined enough things already. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of everything."

The Blot's voice rang out again. "And allow me to introduce our antagonist, none other than that loathable braggart, Bugs Bunny!"

"I'm on!" Bugs cried, his ears jerking up. He shoved his script into Yakko's chest and began marching toward the stage. Throwing the script to Wakko, Yakko lunged forward and grabbed Bugs' wrist.

"Bugs," he said, thinking fast, "Bugs, there's been a change in the script."

Flattening his ears, Bugs eyed him like he would an insect that had crawled into his food. "I think I would know if the script got changed, mac. The Blot picked me to be his star, after all!"

"No, you don't understand, that's why he sent me here. It was a…really last minute change. You said he likes inksplots, right? What do you think I am?"

Bugs gave him an appraising eye. "What's the change?"

"When you get to the top of the diving board, don't jump. You have to keep stalling, understand?"

"Well then when do I jump, oh Mr. Floor Director?"

"I'll let you know, alright? I'll let you know when it's my turn to come out on stage."

"What? You don't – "

"Script change, remember? Work with me here! Now get out on that stage, and remember: you don't jump, Dot doesn't jump, got it?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, quit mussing up my fur," Bugs snapped, swatting Yakko's hand away and making his way on stage. At the other end of the stage Yakko heard several loud boos; he groaned when he saw Mortimer and Bosko, flanked by a number of weasels, in the shadows. Bosko pointed at him, then dragged his finger across his throat. Yakko rolled his eyes.

Strutting across the stage, Bugs gave the silent audience a cheery wave. He cleared his throat and, with a dramatic flourish, he rolled seamlessly into Yosemite Sam's part. "I paid my four bits to see the high divin' act, and I'm a' gonna see the high diving act!"

Yakko watched as Bugs climbed the ladder, still spouting his lines. Dot was watching him with an understandably perplexed look on her face, making him wonder how much of this she was actually privy to. She probably thought there was some sort of plan, that Bugs had something up his sleeve. Yakko was horrified to find his mind blank.

"Yakko…have you seen these scripts?"

Wakko held the thick stack of papers up to him. Frowning, Yakko flipped through them. There had to be over fifty cartoons in here, and all the skits were based off of old Warner Bros. or Disney cartoons, but the similarities ended there. Most of them took strange, illogical turns, or would repeat the same action over and over again. Bugs seemed to be cast as either a villain or someone who was on the receiving end of some brutal form of violence in every skit. In fact, the next skit was 'Rabbit Seasoning,' which was calling for Bosko to shoot Bugs point blank in the face. If Bosko got the chance to point a gun at Bugs, Yakko could not imagine it ending well.

"Did any of your comments ever mention the Blot being a scribble?" Yakko asked.

"A what?"

"A scribble. A messed up toon drawing, like Mugsy. A mistake. Bugs told me about them."

Wakko scrunched his face in thought. "Well, I think he came from spilled ink…why?"

Yakko sighed. "Because if he's a scribble, that means we're dealing with a toon that's gone off the deep end."

"Why aren't you jumping?" came the Blot's voice.

"I think he's gone off the deepest end there is," Wakko muttered.

The Blot was breathing heavily in agitation, causing burst of static over the speakers. "Jump! I said jump! What are you waiting for?"

Dot looked up at Bugs, who was glowering in Yakko's direction. The pounding of his heart was drowning out all logic and thought.

"Why does he want them to jump into the DIP?" Yakko cried, his frustration breaking out in every direction, "He knows it'll kill them! How does he expect Bugs to be in all his other ridiculous cartoons?"

"But Minerva said he didn't know there's DIP in the tub," Wakko pointed out, "I don't think he thinks they're going to get hurt."

"What are you talking about?"

Swallowing, Wakko continued, "Well, in my comic, one of the Blot's weaknesses is that he hates to see anything die. And he likes when everything goes according to his plan. In that script that he wrote, he has them jumping in the tub, and then doing the next skit, and the next. I think…Yakko, I think he just wants to put on a show. Entertain people, you know? And I don't think he cares who jumps in, he just wants to see someone jump off the diving board and into the tub. Because it's in his script."

They stared at each other until Dot's voice made them both whip around. She had Bugs by the hand and was attempting to pull him toward the ladder. "You know, heights aren't really my thing," she said, "I think we'll just be climbing back down now – "

"Nah girly, stay where you are, don't trouble yourself!" called Bosko, who had now walked onto the stage. He made sure to keep the scarred side of his face out of sight. "Don't worry folks, all part of the act!" he said with a cheesy wink to the audience. Yakko suppressed a groan; if that was supposed to be endearing, then he was the Queen of England. No wonder he got canned.

But then it dawned on him that Bosko was now heading up the ladder and toward his sister. And he'd made it quite clear to Yakko on several occasions that he preferred the Warners to be dead as opposed to alive. And he had a huge tub of DIP at his disposal.

"Yakko!" Wakko cried, unable to hide the panic in his voice. "We have to do something! What if he goes after Dot-"

"Not in front of the Blot he won't," Yakko said, "the Blot's been looking for us for months, he'd squash Bosko like a bug."

But Yakko clutched at his ears. He was finding it hard to breath. Everything seemed to closing around him. He had to go to her, he had to, but then what? Wakko had said that the Blot just wanted to see someone, anyone, jump into the tub. It didn't matter who, it was all entertainment as far he was concerned. Yakko stared up at his sister. He'd take her place in less than a heartbeat, he'd jump straight into the tub with a smile if he had to –

Jump into the tub…

Yakko grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "You said Brain gave you something that protected toons against DIP. Where is it?"

Raising his eyebrows, Wakko pulled four viles of pink liquid out of his hammerspace. "He said he hadn't tested it yet – "

"Doesn't matter," Yakko said, holding out his hands, "give them to me, hurry."

His brow twisting with confusion, Wakko looked from the viles to Yakko's face, then to the tub. After a moment's thought, the terrible comprehension washed over him, and Wakko's eyes grew slowly with distress.

"No," he said, clutching the viles to his chest, "no, no, no Yakko, no way, I won't let you!"

"Wak, c'mon – "

"No Yakko! I don't know if they're gonna work, I shouldn't have even said anything! I just got you back, I'm not letting you do this!"

Yakkos stared into his brother's anguished face and felt his heart break. But behind him Bosko was nearing the top of the ladder, and he saw no other choice. Willing them to steady, Yakko reached out slowly and put both his hands on top of Wakko's.

"Wakko, listen to me. Bugs is in trouble. Dot is in trouble. This might be our only chance. I know you're scared. I am too. But you have to trust me on this. Give them to me. Please, sib."

Wakko remained frozen to the spot, still clinging to the viles and staring unwavering into Yakko's face.

"Listen, when you see your chance, go for Dot and get out of here. Get somewhere safe and I'll come find you guys. Now, Wakko, if…if anything happens to me, I love – "

"Yakko, stop," Wakko choked out.

When he'd been captured in the desert all those days ago, Yakko remembered how he'd wished that he'd had the chance to look at his siblings, really look at them, before he was taken. And now, as he looked at his strong, brave, grown-up brother, with the knowledge of what lay ahead of him weighing him down, he couldn't move. He could stay here for hours, for the rest of his life, if it just meant being here, together. But no, they weren't complete yet, it wasn't finished…they were still missing someone.

"JUMP! SOMEONE JUMP!"

The Blot's shrill cry jolted Yakko back to the present. Back to the inevitable. Wakko looked to Dot, then back to him, his eyes hollow. Yakko grasped his brother's arm, the one that had been hurt.

"Please, Wakko. That's our sister."

Hurt one sibling to save another. Force his brother to do something against his will. But Wakko was brave, Dot was in trouble, and he was the leader. And leaders had to make decisions.

Even if it was his last one.

"You're scared?" Wakko repeated.

Yakko held his gaze. "Yes."

Beneath his own hands he felt Wakko's tighten. Wakko stared at him, pain still etched on his face, his resistance visibly crumpling after Yakko said the word "yes." He snorted without any trace of humor and mumbled, "You would talk me into doing this." Slowly, his grip loosened on the viles and he handed them to Yakko. "I trust you."

Yakko forced a smile and willed his voice not shake. "Thanks. Now here, help me get covered, we can't miss a spot."

Yakko tugged out the stoppers with his teeth - he didn't trust his trembling fingers - and dumped the viles over his head, his chest, his arms and legs. It felt strangely cool, soothing even, if a bit sticky. Wakko dutifully helped to rub over every inch of him, but he winced as he did so, as if it was physically hurting him.

"There, I'd say I'm properly marinated," Yakko joked lamely. He could not blame Wakko for not laughing. "Now Wakko, whatever happens, make you get Dot out of here. Get out of here. Go somewhere safe. Understand."

Wakko let out a choked sound and the frail shell of Yakko's resistance cracked even more. He realized with a sickening pang of regret that he should have hugged Wakko before the FLIP: he couldn't risk rubbing any of it off.

He looked into Wakko's eyes – they really looked exactly like his, didn't they – and turned resolutely to the stage.

All those times he'd strode onto stage in the past had been so easy. He hadn't felt like curling up in a corner and sobbing then. How had he managed to do that, night after night? His mouth was so dry, he felt like he was going to be sick at any moment…

When he'd been on stage, he'd been confident. He'd been in control. Courageous. When he wasn't feeling those things, he'd look to the audience for his siblings. They made him feel all those things.

He should have told them how much stronger they'd made him feel. For all his talking he'd left out the important things. It was his greatest talent and he'd hardly ever used it for the two most important people in his life. There were so many things he wanted to say to them now. If he could just hold them once more and tell them everything, that they were the most miraculous little creatures he'd ever met, that they never stopped making him proud, that without them, he wouldn't, couldn't, exist.

But it was too late. He had to act, and he had to act now. Swallowing, Yakko looked up to this sister, who was struggling to stay brave in front of half of Toontown. At the sight of her he knew he could do it. Holding his head high, Yakko walked onto the stage.

"Helloooo nurses!" he called out with a wide smile, "Miss me?" The weasels shifted uncomfortably, unsure as to whether or not they should gun him down or let it go as part of the act. The crowd gasped and murmured, and he remembered that he'd been something of a fugitive for the last few months and his appearance must be somewhat shocking. Either that or they were appalled by how dirty he was and how much he stank. But come on, he'd just escaped from a prison camp, give him a break...shaking his head, he climbed resolutely up the ladder.

"Oh ho, what a delightful surprise!" the Blot cooed, "Quite unexpected, but this is showbiz, folks! But, one must ask...whatever are you doing here, Yakko Warner?"

The undertone of malice was unmistakable, but so was the unbridled glee. After all, the Blot's prey had just walked willingly into his inky hands. As Yakko crested the top of diving board, he was greeted by Bosko's utterly stunned face. He would have loved to close the toon's gaping jaw for him, but he couldn't chance touching anything and letting even the smallest amount of FLIP rub off. Instead, he smirked and said loudly, "Well Blotty Boy, I saw a perfectly good diving board with a perfectly good diving pool just going to waste. How could I ignore something like that?"

"My thoughts exactly. So does this mean you're going to jump?"

"Good question," Bosko murmured, now eying him closely.

"Does Donald Duck have an anger management problem? Of course I'm jumping!"

"No!" Dot cried out.

Up until this point he hadn't looked at her, because he was reasonably sure that if he did, they'd need a crowbar to pull him off of her. But he locked eyes with her before he could stop himself. It was the same feeling he'd had upon seeing Wakko: like he'd been punched in the stomach. Like he was seeing her for the first time. Like he'd never see anything more beautiful in his life. Her eyes were wide and shining like stars, looking not at him but through him, drawing every bit of himself out and to her. How could he have been responsible for raising someone so absurdly perfect?

And now, how on earth could he willingly break her heart?

Dot pushed past Bosko, nearly knocking him off the board. She reached out to him. "Yakko don't, it's full of - "

He withdrew before she could touch him. The look that flickered across her face made his chest tighten. "Water, yup! I hope you're all watching folks, I'm only doing this once."

That was for sure.

Dot stared at him, searching his face for an explanation. Her trust in her older brother was shattering him.

He stared at her. He'd spend lifetimes with her. For a moment he thought about saying "Don't watch" but he held it back. Instead, he whispered to her, "Don't worry," and gave her a smile that was only meant for her.

Yakko tore his gaze away and curled his toes over the edge. His heart was beating wildly against his ribcage, as though it knew it was trapped and was trying to escape its fate. He fought down the need to hug his sister, and the far more overwhelming urge to look at either of his siblings. If he saw their faces he'd never be able to go through with it.

"Jump!"

Just one step off, that's all it would take. He shut his eyes. It was now or never. If it didn't work, he hoped he didn't scream.

"JUMP!"

Yakko took a deep breath and stepped off the end of the diving board.

The fall was longer than he was expecting. Dimly he heard what could only be Dot and Wakko yelling. At the last moment he remembered that he should squash his body, the tub wasn't that deep, but was it really going to matter anyway? And then he landed in the DIP water with a tremendous splash. He felt his body hit the floor like a wet sack before it stretched back to normal. Holding his breath and biting down so hard he could taste ink, Yakko waited for the pain. But no...there was no pain...the water around him felt warm, but it wasn't burning him away, not like it had when the Blot had tricked him. Or had it all happened so fast that he was already gone? Was this what death felt like? But like when the Blot had tricked him, he could still hear the viscous bubbling of the DIP all around him. He was still in the tub. The Blot had no idea that his perceived torture was actually helping Yakko right now, he hadn't lost his head yet, if he wasn't burning alive yet then maybe, just maybe, Brain's solution had worked...

Yakko pushed off the floor with all his might and felt himself break the surface. His eyes still screwed tight, he reached blindly for the edge of the tub. He found it and heaved himself out, landing on the ground with sodden thump. The yelling and gasping from the audience was disorienting him. He swiped at his eyes, trying to push the DIP away so he could open them.

His skin was growing hot. With a pang of horror, he realized the DIP was steadily burning away the FLIP. In a few moments it would reach his fur. Everyone, including his siblings, was going to see him bubble away into nothingness, live on stage. He reached for his hammerspace but stopped midway - his hand was covered in DIP, he'd burn it from the inside out.

"Why, you're all wet - here, let me dry you off!"

Yakko heard Oswald's voice the second before a strong jet of water pummeled him in the face. Coughing and sputtering, he felt it course up and down his body, and the heat of the DIP was slowly dissipating as it was siphoned away. Finally cracking open an eye, Yakko saw Oswald standing over him with a large bottle of seltzer water. Oswald leaned into him and muttered, "Are you nuts?" before turning to the audience and joking loudly, "There, all dry!"

Too stunned to answer, Yakko inspected his hands and arms. No signs of burns. Nor were there any on his chest, or his legs and feet. Brain's concoction had worked perfectly.

"Bravo!" the Blot cheered, "Truly marvelous! You see, ladies and gentlemen, how a real toon does it? How a drawn toon's skill deftly handles – "

Yakko cleared his throat, silencing the Blot. "Hold your horses there, Phantom ol' buddy. About this whole drawn business…you and Bosko really need to have a heart to heart."

"Say one more word and she gets it!" Bosko bellowed from above, grabbing Dot and pressing his DIP gun against her, causing Yakko's heart to nearly give out. Unperturbed, Dot rolled her eyes and drove here elbow into the DIPped half of his face. He hollered in pain and let her go. She locked eyes with him and shouted, "Catch me!"

And then Dot ran, reaching the end of the diving board and leaping from it. She arced through the air, plenty far enough to clear the DIP tub, but now she was falling. Yakko staggered backwards and tried to position himself under her. A black blur caught his eye and he realized Wakko was sprinting toward him. He skidded to a stop at his side as Dot hurtled the last few feet into their waiting arms. There was a tremendous crash, which Yakko could only assume was his tailbone making exquisitely painful contact with the stage, and he was laying flat on his back. The three of them were a tangle of limbs and tails, but as Yakko tried to extract himself, he suddenly found himself nose-to-nose with two brilliantly white faces. Wakko and Dot were beaming at him. It was as though the world had come to a halt.

Dot's shrill scream of "Yakko!" cut through his stunned thoughts and she flung herself into his arms, knocking him on his back again. Swallowing, he stroked her ears and held her close as she sobbed into his neck. "Shhh…long time, huh sib?" he murmured into her hair.

Looking over her head he spotted Wakko watching them, smiling, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Not caring that everyone was watching them, Yakko held out his arm. Wakko joined them, wrapping himself up with his brother and sister.

Yakko felt his throat growing tight. It was the most complete he'd ever felt in his entire life. He couldn't remember how he'd managed to go so much as a day without them. Everything was right again. Heaving out a sigh, he gathered Wakko and Dot to his chest and nuzzled his face in with theirs.

At long last, Yakko was holding both his siblings in his arms.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what unprecedented luck you have tonight! Allow me to announce three exquisite casting changes to our show: Yakko, Wakko, and Dot Warner, escaped from their tower and together on stage to demonstrate that we drawn toons, poured straight from the inkwell, are the true entertainers!"

Wakko and Dot shared a confused look before turning to Yakko. But he knew now, the mysterious tapestry was coming into full view, and he knew what he had to do, even if he didn't know what to do afterwards.

"On your feet, sibs," he whispered, nudging their backs. "Stand up as tall as you can, no slouching."

Dot frowned as she rose. "I don't get it - "

"Don't worry about it. Just stick close to me, and get ready for anything."

He glanced up at Bosko, whose jaw was practically hanging off the diving board. Yakko winked at him and enjoyed the way his eyes narrowed.

Straightening his back and rising to his full height, Yakko wrapped his arms around his brother and sister. Addressing the audience, he said, "You got that right Blotty Boy, master entertainers we the Warner three be" he could feel Dot rolling her eyes at him, "But eeehhh, I think you've got one little hitch in your giddy-up. Ya see, I don't remember any inkwell. And you gotta admit: for drawn toons, we sure do grow up fast, don't we?"

There was no sound from the Blot, only the crackling static from his silent loudspeaker.

"He's kiddin' boss!" Bosko shouted with nervous laughter, "Just kiddin'...yeah, ain't a he a real joker?"

"Grown up?"

Yakko had to pick up his ears to hear the Blot's faint hiss. Perhaps it was seeing them all together at once, side by side and still on the stage, that was convincing the Blot that they were born, not drawn. Or maybe it was just the fact that Yakko had called attention to it. Either way, the Blot repeated, louder, "Grown up?"

Yakko nodded gravely. "Yes, I'm afraid so. It's an unfortunate side affect of aging."

"You can't be. Drawn toons do not age."

"We got a real detective here, folks, watch out," Yakko said to the audience.

"Exactly boss, he's just inhaled too many DIP fumes," Bosko said, finishing with a growl and glaring pointedly at Yakko.

"Are you telling me...you are born toons?" Blot asked slowly.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Did Bosko forget to mention that?" Yakko said.

Bosko let out an angry shriek above them. It was followed by a whooshing sound that Yakko's months in the Compound had taught him to recognize as a DIP gun being fired. Before he could react Oswald had plowed into the three of them, knocking them out of the way of Bosko's stream of DIP.

Already yanking Dot to her feet, Yakko said, "Wakko and Dot, let me re-introduce you to Oswald, also known as our grandfather."

As far as earthshaking genealogical news went, he felt they took this rather well. They gaped at Yakko before turning appraising eyes to Oswald, who was wearing and awkward, yet hopeful, smile.

"Our grandpa's a rabbit?" Wakko said finally.

"I guess it explains the ears," said Dot.

"And yet it still doesn't explain Wakko's accent," Yakko added.

"Pleased to re-meet you," Oswald said with a grin. It faltered when he looked over his shoulder as Bosko, now sliding down the ladder like a fireman, screamed, "Get them, DIP them, I don't care!" Armed weasels scurried out onto the stage, with Mortimer taking up the rear. Yakko, Wakko and Dot took several steps back; Yakko was looking in every direction, desperate for some kind of option, an idea, anything, he didn't care if it was someone reaching from the sky and scooping them up and away from the lot -

The floor began to rumble. It grew steadily louder, even drowning out the audience's frightened murmuring. The weasels froze, whimpering and fumbling their guns. Yakko grabbed his siblings by the shoulders, wanting to run but not knowing which way to go since every direction was shaking. Oswald gasped and pointed to the catwalk above the stage. Yakko looked up.

Suddenly a huge, dark mass erupted from the ceiling. It was as though the world had been ripped open to reveal a black void. The entire stage went dark as the lights burst, showering them in sparks. Toons screamed, weasels were blown backwards off their feet. Yakko threw himself on top of Wakko and Dot, feeling Oswald dive to the floor beside him. Black droplets splattered the ground around them like rain. Gasping, Yakko looked up to find the Blot, bloated and swelling so he was monstrous in size, his face contorted into a ghastly mask of rage.

"YOU DECEPTIVE LITTLE MONGRELS! BORN? BORN!" he roared without the aid of the loudspeaker. "HOW DARE YOU - "

He surged forward and Yakko reached behind his back but for what he did not know. But in the next moment the Blot's outraged face was covered by a well-aimed pie that struck him, hard, with a satisfying splat. Two more pies followed, making the Blot splutter and swipe at them, the cream mixing in with his ink. Yakko traced their trajectory to Bugs, who was still atop the diving board. Already prepped with another pie in his hand, he had a focused, determined look on his face that he had somehow managed to combine with a smirk in a way that only Bugs Bunny could.

"Hey Yakko, you were right. We just needed the Blot to lose control," Wakko said, as though he'd watched toons come out of hypnosis every day.

But Yakko, not yet daring to believe, called out cautiously, "Bugs?"

The rabbit locked eyes with him and his whole face warmed with one of the happiest smiles Yakko had ever seen. "And then I found you running around the lot," Bugs said, just as he had all those months ago in front of the fireplace. Bugs was back. Yakko felt himself returning the smile. All the things he'd wanted to say but didn't, that he'd either been too embarrassed or too proud to choke out, were now bubbling to the surface. But Bugs' attention had turned back to the Blot, whose inky tendrils were flaring out from all sides. "Move aside, rabbit, before I drown you with my own ink!"

"Is that any way to make friends?" Bugs shot back, dodging the Blot's strikes with ease. Every time the Blot surged Bugs was there, meeting him blow for blow. Snarling, the Blot reared back and snapped a tendril around Bosko, who'd been attempting to sneak quietly off the stage. "Get them and I'll consider sparing your life," the Blot seethed.

Bosko gulped and nodded meekly before the Blot dropped him to the floor. He bounced twice before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling. Every weasel in the theater turned their attention to him. "You heard the big boss," he bellowed, "GET THEM!"

The weasels charged forward, squealing and hissing. Even the ones guarding the audience abandoned their posts in pursuit of the stage. The frightened toons saw their chance and exited the theater in droves - though some of them, Yakko noticed, were actually charging the stage as well. Why didn't they try to get away? Unless they were trying to help...

"Uh, Yakko..."

Dot's frightened murmur brought him swiftly to the present. Weasels were bearing down on them from all sides, Bugs was facing the Blot, and he had no idea what to do. Yakko grabbed Wakko and Dot and prepared to run for the DIP tub. He didn't want to DIP anyone, but if it meant preventing one of his siblings from getting DIPped, he wouldn't hesitate. But he'd barely taken a step when he heard a voice rise over the clamor: "Batduck, to the rescue!"

Plucky the half-weasel swung in on a rope from the right stage, screaming nonsense and flinging himself into the melee. In the next second dozens of toons stampeded onto the stage. Yakko's heart stopped when he saw that they were being led by Buster and Babs, the latter of which was yelling "CHARGE!" at the top of her lungs. Behind them was Shirley, Wile E, and all the toons they'd freed from the Compound, Skippy, and many more. Mickey, Foghorn, Sylvester, Porky, Goofy, all of them were running straight for the weasels. They were armed with an odd assortment of weapons that were clearly human: umbrellas, plates of plexi-glass, raincoats...all things intended to momentarily deflect a stream of DIP.

It was chaos as an all-out toon brawl began. There was bending and bouncing, squashing and stretching. Weasels scratched and fired their DIP guns, which melted the other toons' weapons almost instantly. But it gave them the time they needed to retaliate; mindful of not hurting the weasels (too much), an array of toon traps were sprung. Bombs were lit and exploded. Tunnels were painted, and bananas were thrown to the floor. To his right, Yakko was reminded of how good Wakko was his mallet, and to his left, he was surprised at how good Dot had gotten with hers. He joined them, landing several hits of his own.

Ahead of them, Babs was charging down Mortimer. He blocked two of her blows, smiling wickedly, until her third caught him expectantly in the hip and sent him sprawling. He looked up at her and pleaded pitifully, "Aw c'mon sweetheart, you wouldn't hit a toon while he's down, would ya?"

Babs towered above him, gripping her mallet and staring down her nose at him with disdain. After a long moment of thought she lowered and turned away. "No, I wouldn't hit a toon while he's down..."

Mortimer sneered with victory. Then Babs whipped around with astonishing speed, slinging her mallet behind her head before bringing it down on Mortimer with a devastating crash. When she lifted it his body was crumpled in a comical way, his ears crooked and his eyes spinning as miniature weasels danced around his head.

"But I would hit a cowardly, nasty little sleazeball while he's down," Babs said, smirking.

Yakko was about to rush over to her when he saw something that made his heart jump into his throat: Buster, who'd been handling three weasels on his own – and fighting, really fighting – had been knocked flat on his back. Three DIP guns were aimed at his face. Babs noticed it at same time as Yakko and let out a terrible scream. Something quivered in Yakko's heart, but he pushed it down for now. He had to get to his friend.

Wakko and Dot were behind him as he ran. Wakko extended his arm out and knocked a DIP gun from one weasel's hands as Dot, with incredible precision that only Yosemite could have taught her, caught the other with pie to the face. Yakko kicked his legs into a toon sprint and slid into the last weasel's knees, knocking his feet out from under him. The three weasels groaned together in a heap before a large anvil fell on top of them. Yakko and the others looked up to find Oswald hanging from a rung halfway up the ladder, looking very pleased with himself.

Wakko and Dot pulled Buster to his feet. "Thanks guys," he said, "and boy, do you three know how to throw a family reunion or what?"

"You don't know the half of it," Yakko muttered as Oswald joined them.

Babs turned to him, her face flushed. Ink was dribbling down a cut on her cheek. "Yakko, this isn't working. Every time they run out of ammo they just come back with more DIP. We can't hold them off for much longer."

"Where are they getting it all?" Buster asked.

Yakko frowned. "They must be hiding it somewhere, where security wouldn't come across it. It could be anywhere..."

"That stuff's corrosive as all heck, so it's gotta be a real special hiding place," Oswald added.

Yakko growled in frustration. They didn't have time for yet another mystery. Above them Bugs was still squaring off with the Blot, though now he had a companion: Daffy had appeared and was now fighting side by side with Bugs. But even they couldn't last against the Blot forever. Yakko turned to Wakko and Dot, who mirrored his questioning face.

"Think sibs, think," Yakko urged, "where would you hide gallons of stinky, caustic chemicals on the lot?"

"Plotz's office?" Dot tried.

"The men's bathroom in the cafeteria," Wakko said, "if you're going to find stinky, caustic stuff anywhere, it's there."

Yakko shook his head. "C'mon guys, we have to figure this out. We know this lot better than anyone. We're the Warner siblings. I mean, our name's on the freaking tower for cryin' out – "

His jaw seemed to stop working as a massive chunk of information fell into place. He remembered the stench he'd caught as he and Wakko drove past the water tower.

Yakko knew where they were hiding the DIP.