"Welcome back, everyone," Alex said into the camera. "In the last five years, I've seen some incredible matches. We had Tigger, our first ever champion with his back-to-back true Daily Doubles. A year later, Captain Gantu and his eight perfect games in a row. Then there was Rabbit, our first ever millionaire with a one-day record of $76,800. And of course, Simba shattering the one-day record four times and breaking Ken Jennings's records. And tonight, with our first ever episode of Jeopardy! Live, we could be seeing history tonight. Simba might cross the $3 million mark, or Max will overthrow our champion. It's all going to come down to this clue, in Poetry..."

And with a chime, the clue came up on the screen.

"'This fireside poet had some tough words for foreign publishers: "The Ten Commandments will not budge, / And stealing will continue stealing."'

"Thirty seconds, players. Good luck."

Daisy held a wing against her head to muffle the music, and she held her cellphone to the other side of her head. "What do you mean, a lawsuit?" she whispered.

"It's what I just said. According to the contract, Max shouldn't be on the show."

"But it's been a year."

"Not quite. It's a year minus a day."

"A year could be 365 days."

"But the contract doesn't specify."

"So why are you calling me?"

"Because Mickey's not answering his calls. Tell him we're going to be there tonight and get this thing going."

"But Mr. Carter—"

"Tonight, Daisy. Now that Jeopardy!'s going live, we can't wait until later. We'll see you then."

And the line went dead as the "Think!" music continued its obliviously cheery melody.

Oh, Max, Daisy murmured to herself. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm hoping you get it wrong...

"It looks like everyone got their answers in quickly, and I hope they're correct," Alex said. "Beast, you were in third place, so we'll come to you first. What did you put down?"

There was a pause, and the answer faded in on the screen.

"'Who is Oliver Wendell Holmes?'

"Physician, poet, and father of Supreme Court justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. Unfortunately, that is incorrect. It will cost you $10,801...and that will take you down to $4,399.

"We come to Simba, our 79-day champion. He had $26,000 going into Final Jeopardy. What did he put down?"

A nervous silence filled the house, and the answer came up on the screen as he sighed and slapped his paws on the podium.

"'Who is Oliver Wendell Holmes?'"

Gasps and cries of disbelief filled the air, and the whole house gawked at him with mouths and eyes wide.

"And we know that is incorrect. What was his wager?"

The wave of noise was even louder and the shock and grief even deeper, and Simba stared into the camera with a look of defeat.

He had bet it all.

"So now, Max Goof, we come to you. If you gave us a correct response, you're going to be the new Jeopardy! champion."

There was a pause, and the answer came up on the podium.

"Who is James Russell Lowell?"

And with a nod and a smile, Alex said: "That is the correct response."

Even with all the soundproofing, a passerby outside would have thought the whole of America had risen up in praise. Max bowed over and let out all his breath, overwhelmed by the noise.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new Jeopardy! champion," Alex said over the ovation. "What was his wager?"

And the wager came up on the screen.

"Oh, gosh, $49,200! That takes you to $100,000! A new one-day record and our first ever six-figure win!"

The ovation was so deafening, one would have thought the whole world was cheering. Max figured out how to pull his face into a smile as he saw himself on the screen and the words "1-DAY $100,000" fading into view. With a trembly breath, he swung to Beast and shook his hand; Beast took and pulled him into a tight hug, which Max gave back with a grin. He turned to Simba and held out a hand; Simba forced a friendly smile and gave him a hug back. It was warm as ice and genuine as a mask, but Max didn't care. He pulled away and walked down the stage, smiling in disbelief and elation.

Tears brimming in his eyes and ears going deaf from the mighty ovation, Max walked out from behind his podium and held a hand over his mouth to muffle his sob. He walked off the stage as Goofy stood up and gave him a hug. Another wave of applause roared across the house, but Max's words were clear and unmistakable:

"Thank you."

Goofy gave him another squeeze, then told him to look out at the crowd. In wave after wave, the audience was rising to their feet, some whistling, some cheering, some pumping fists into the air. Max's girlfriend was gushing with admiration and delight, and his friends cupped their hands around their mouths to amplify their shouts of triumph. And on their feet and beaming with pride, were his Jeopardy! heroes—Gantu, Owl, Tod, Prince Eric—and his Jeopardy! idol, Rabbit.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Alex said over the ovation, "this is Max's first game, and he's broken seven records. We have a new one-day record, a new first-day record, our first six-figure win, the biggest Daily Double wager, the biggest Final Jeopardy wager, and the biggest true Daily Double, and the highest score going into Final Jeopardy. If this is how good he is, his reign could be a lengthy one. But will he keep his crown? We'll find out tomorrow, and we hope you'll join us then. So long, everyone."

As the audience resumed its tribute, the music rose up to its triumphant melody, and the credits flashed onto the screen. As Simba and Beast stepped out from behind their podiums and joined Alex on the stage, Max gave Goofy another squeeze and turned away to join the post-game chatter.

"Max, you ought to be proud," Alex said with a handshake. "Even in the Jeopardy round, I kept looking at you and thinking, He's going to do it."

Max blushed and went all awkward. "Thanks. I didn't think I was going to. I couldn't get the hang of the buzzer, and...well, Simba's tough to beat."

Simba put on a friendly smile. "Like I said: Trash talk helps you play better."

"It didn't. When Double Jeopardy started, I gave up trying to buzz in on time, and I just went by instinct. I guess it worked."

"Yeah, well, you should be on Wheel of Fortune. They'd love to have you."

"Thanks, but hopefully I'll stick around here a while. I kinda like it."

The music hit its last notes, and the screen faded to black. From across the stage, Daisy said: "We're clear!"

"Oh, I've been waiting for this," Max said. "I haven't seen Rabbit since his run; I have gotta get his autograph!"

"Max, you might not have time," Daisy said. She and Mickey were walking up, looking as if a tornado had struck town. "One of Pete's lawyers just gave us a call. We're being sued for a breach of contract."

" 'Breach of contract'? I quit last year."

"Yeah—365 days ago. And that's the problem. It's 2008, a leap year. 366 days. And the contract doesn't say how long a year is, so it means whatever Pete wants it to mean."

"And what does that mean for me?!" Max said. "I'm not gonna get any money because of a technicality?!"

"Max, we're gonna get it sorted out," Mickey said. "But until we figure this out—golly, I hate to say it—you can't be on the show tomorrow."

"Because of this?!"

"You know how Pete is," Daisy said. "He's gonna make something out of it. He's probably trying to make it look you got on here just to take down Simba. And after the game you played, that's what it's gonna look like."

"How did Pete know when I quit my job?"

"That's another mystery. We changed the locks here two months ago."

"Then someone must've hacked into the computers. But why would they hack in to look at my records?"

"If Pete's involved, this isn't about you. It's about the House of Mouse. He's wanted it ever since it opened; if we lose, he gets everything he wants."

"Pete wouldn't know a computer from a doorstop. Someone had to be helping him: someone who's good with computers, and someone who wanted me to lose."

Daisy paused, and her face went dark. She and Max exchanged mutual glares of disgust.

"Simba," Max muttered. "It's gotta be him."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Beast said. "Simba's a lot of things, but a computer hacker?"

"Welcome to the 21st century," Max said. "Get a computer and an Internet connection, and you can learn whatever you want. That's what Simba did to get on the show. And maybe that's what he did to get revenge."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Daisy said. "During one of the commercial breaks, Timon was on the phone with someone. I called him out, and he got really weird about it."

"And right after that," Mickey said, "I got a text from Pete. He wanted to talk to me about you."

Max snickered at them. "How convenient. Timon hacked in before the show started, and he called Pete to make sure the job was done. And now Simba's gone. We start talking about him, and he disappears."

"We've gotta get him and Timon out here," Daisy said. "If they're in his dressing room, we'll make sure they stay. If they left, we'll get them back."

Mickey nodded and pulled his cellphone out of his coat. "Go look for him. I'll call Timon."

The shadowy figure strode up to the motel door and slid the keycard into the slot, and a red light went green as the door unlocked. The figure ducked into the room and held the phone to the side of his head, and Pete's snarky baritone rumbled from the other end of the phone call. "You'd better tell me it's done."

"It's done. I hacked into the computers again and planted the evidence. All roads lead back to Simba and Timon."

"Good. My lawyer's on the way over there now. When this is over, the House of Mouse is gonna be mine."

"Don't be smug. I still want you to hold up your end of the deal."

"I told you I will. I already met with the producers and talked with them about a Second Chance Tournament. You'll win that, and you'll have a spot in the Tournament of Champions. What else do you want?"

There was a long pause, there was a thundery breath, a light switch was flipped—and Beast let out a growl.

"I want your cooperation," he said. "If you implicate me, I'll go public with everything you've done. We know you've wanted more than just the House of Mouse, and we know you've done more than bend a few rules. And if you think that's an idle threat, then believe this: I have your computer files. The contract you wrote for the House of Mouse, the contract you wrote for Jeopardy!, some photographs of your family—everything. If you fail to keep up your part of the bargain, everything that incriminates you will be brought to light, and everything that you hold dear will vanish forever."

There was a pause, then an uneasy retort. "You're bluffin'."

Beast chuckled darkly. "That photograph of you and your family at the lake? Oh, that was depressing. Poor PJ, trying to smile while his father's standing over him. And your 2007 tax return? Line 15 was pathetic, wouldn't you say?"

Nothing was said on the other end of the line, but the fury in Pete's silence was evident.

"As I said: I want your cooperation. If you violate the terms of our agreement, the House of Mouse won't be the only thing you lose."

There was another terrible pause and a heavy sigh, and then—

"I'll call the executive producer."

The last thing Beast said before he clapped his cellphone shut was: "See that you do."

To be continued...