TTA: THE BLOOMIN' LOONIES Created and written by (with major funding provided by a grant from the National Endowment for) Jennifer Cleckley (RottinKid@aol.com) and Jerry D. Withers (Furrball T. Cat) (sheplives@hotmail.com). ============================================================================== AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just as brief as Cliff's Notes, only longer. ============================================================================== THE BLOOMIN' LOONIES 5: Count 'em, 5! -0- It has often been said that the only constant in the world is change. In the first few months of the Bloomin' Loonies' time as students at Acme Loo, there were changes aplenty for each of them... and they weren't through yet... -0- It all started (or continued, rather) at Acme Looniversity, the afternoon after the Carrottes had received their restaurant, and Roddy and Nigel had (pretty much) patched things up (apparently). Miranda Mink was in a blue funk as she gathered her things for her next period (mainly her books, her portable CD player, and her 'study music'). "Hey, Mink, what's up?" chirped a familiar voice. "Oh, hi, Babs. Study hall," Miranda smiled wanly. "Ah. The bane of many a student's existence," Babs acknowledged with a grin. "Well, look on the bright side. At least you get to listen to some tunes..." she added, noticing the mink's copy of OMD's 'The Pacific Age' peeking out from between her books. "Yeah, it's the only way I can concentrate," Miranda admitted. "Don't tell my folks." "Okay. So tell me, Miranda, what class were you so bad at that you had to get out of it the hard way?" "Choir," the mink sighed. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that," the pink bunny said. "How many windows did you shatter with your vocal prowess?" "Five," Miranda sighed again. "Six, if you count the science lab. Well, gotta go. See ya later, maybe." "Yeah, later," Babs waved. She turned around and nearly bumped into Lionel. "Oh, hi, Leo." "'Ello yourself, Babs. Wot, you got a free period?" "Yeah, but the other punctuation marks will cost you," Babs smirked as Leo grimaced painfully. "Sorry." "No, you're not," the blonde bunny grinned knowingly. "Same here. So wot's with my favourite mink?" "She's upset because she can't sing," Babs confided. "Oh, don't I know that?" Leo replied. "Pity, really. She jokes about it a lot, but it's breaking her heart, poor girl. She really wants to sing in the worst way. Unfortunately, that's exactly 'ow she goes about it." Now it was Babs' turn to grimace painfully. "That's an old joke, Leo." "So who's joking?" he noted with a sigh. "I s'pose I could try to cheer her up. Heading towards study hall, was she?" "Yeah..." "Right. Thanks, Babs." "Anytime, Leo..." Leo made a mad dash in Miranda's direction and caught up with her at the study hall entrance. "Allow me, miss," he bowed gracefully, opening the door for her. "Thanks," she said, and trudged in to the hall, Leo trailing close behind her. After about two steps, Miranda whirled around sharply. "Say, are you following me?" "Every chance I get," Leo leered. "I might have known," Miranda sighed. "Well, I don't suppose there's any way I can get rid of you, is there?" "None that are legal, if that's wot you mean," Leo winked, in that charming manner of his. "Well, then, you might as well join me," Miranda said morosely, sitting down at a vacant table. There were plenty to choose from, as she and Leo were the only toons there. Leo sat down beside her at a respectable distance (for once). "What, no closer than that?" "Miranda, luv, there's an old saying amongst us Carrottes that I just made up." "And that would be..." "Two's company, three's a crowd, and right now, it doesn't look like you need a blinkin' corporation." The little mink smiled at her boyfriend. "Thanks," she said, opening her notebook and doodling patiently. Leo watched her for a few minutes before responding. "Um, forgive my bein' nosy, luv, but wot exactly...?" "Oh, just a pipe dream, I guess. I'm trying to come up with a feasible way to get around my lack of vocal talent that'll still allow me to sing," she sulked. Leo leaned in for a closer look, studying the sketches with more than passing interest. Finally, he beamed, "You know, Miranda, I think I may have the solution for you." "We did that joke already," she reminded him. "No, I'm serious this time," he replied, motioning to the notebook. "May I?" "Go ahead," Miranda said unemotionally. Leo continued to study the sketches; then, whipping out a pencil, turned to the next blank page and began drawing a sketch of his own, along with technical notes underneath. Sliding the book in Miranda's direction, he asked, "Was this wot you had in mind?" Miranda's blue eyes went wide behind her glasses as she quickly made sense of Leo's schematic. "Holy owned and operated, Batman, it could work!" -0- "Say, Nige, I heard about your almost-a-confrontation with Roderick," Lionel said to his adopted brother, later that evening, as they and their sister Lizbeth sat in the Carrotte family study after wrapping up their homework for the night. "Is it true Ruby planted one on you?" "Our brother, Mr. Sensitivity," Lizzy chortled. "Yes," Nige sighed, "it's true, she did kiss me, and to set the rumour mill to a grinding halt, nothing happened." "What did Rue have to say about it?" "Nothing," Nigel smiled, "since she gave Ruby the go ahead. It was Rue's peck on the cheek wot did me in. Later on, I got Ruby and Roddo back together, and, well, the rest is infamy. As a matter of fact," he added, "Roddy and I are getting along famously now." "Really?" "Yes. Just like pepperoni pizza and heartburn," Nige explained. "Once he came to his so-called senses and realised that there never was anything going on between Ruby and me to begin with, the rest was simplicity in itself. All he had to do was get the wax out of his ears and just _listen_ to her, and we could have avoided all that trouble. I'll *still* be go to 'eck if I know where he got that idea in the first place, though." He paused briefly in his soliloquy, and his sibs thought they saw the faintest of grins cross his face. "Mind you, that Ruby _is_ some kisser, and if the circumstances were any different..." "Yes..." Liz and Leo goaded him. "I _still_ wouldn't see anything in her! I mean, let's face facts. I'm only 14 and she's, what, 20?" "19," Liz corrected her brother. "Yes, well right off, the age difference would've worked against us, you see. She's way out of me league anyway. Mind you, if we were just a few months apart, I'm not sayin' I wouldn't consider it, but... No, I like her as a friend, but I'll take RuBarb any old day." "In spite of the fact she occasionally uses you for a carving board," Leo noted wryly. "Well, _no_ relationship can be perfect *all* the time, now, can it?" Nigel smiled. "Besides, that's wot I luv about bein' with her. The adventure, the uncertainty..." "The never knowing if you're going to be in one piece when the night is over," Lizbeth giggled. "Well, yes, there _is_ that," the albino rat admitted. "The high cost of being in love with a feline, I guess. Anyway, I've got Rue, Ruby's got Roddy, and all is right with the world." "You're forgetting the big drawback," Lionel reminded him. "You and Roddy have to be _friends_ now!" Nigel slapped himself on the forehead. "Bloody 'eck, I forgot all about that!" His siblings' laughter almost drowned out the ringing of the telephone. "Hold on, you lot," he said. "'Ello? Ruby? Yes, we were just... yes, they're 'ere... Hold on, I'll ask them..." He turned to his sibs. "Do you two feel like gettin' hold of your significant others -- _watch_ it, Leo! -- and goin' on a date with the previously mentioned Ruby and wot's 'is name?" -0- "Roddy, this *is* a surprise!" Rhubella exclaimed, as they met the rest of their party outside of the Club Swank, which - since the former Milleway's had become Carrotte's - was now the snootiest eatery in all of Acme Acres. "This is going to set you back a bundle..." "Yeah," Roddy shrugged. "But hey, anything for you, babe." Quickly, Miranda sidled up to Roddy, throwing her arms around him and batting her eyelashes playfully. "Oh, Roderick, darling, do you mean it?" she asked, overplaying the scene as if she were in a bad soap opera. Roddy was briefly taken aback, while the others couldn't stop laughing. "Over the top, mates, there she goes!" Nigel shouted, as Leo quickly pulled his favorite mink back to his side. "Easy, Miranda. You don't know where he's been," he cautioned her. "Oh, poop!" she grumbled. "You won't let me have *any* fun!" Having recomposed himself in the interim, Roddy strode up confidently to the maitre'd. "Roderick Rat, party of eight, my good man!" "Hm," the maitre'd mused, checking over his list of reservations. "Rat... Rat..." Instinctively, Nigel and Leo burst into song. "You're bloody well rat, you know you've got a rat to say..." Instinctively, Miranda and Rue kicked their boyfriends in the shins. "OW!" "Would it be too late to make that a party of _six_?" Miranda asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes again. "Oh, why stop there?" the maitre'd replied. "We could always make it a party of *none*..." "I can tell this is going to be one of _those_ evenings," RuBarb noted grimly. "_Yes_..." the maitre'd commented. "Ah, here we are. This way, please..." They followed him to their table and sat down. "Well, this is nice, I like this," Liz remarked, as they were presented with the menus, after which the maitre'd left them alone. "Nige, whatcha think?" "Hmmm... interesting," he observed disdainfully. "I dare say, this menu needs to come with a bloody telescope!" "Whatever for?" Adam asked. "So's you can look through the small end to read the fine print, and the large end while reading the bloomin' _prices_, that's why! Sixteen dollars for a Caesar salad? That's bleedin' preposterous!" "Nigel, you've gotta be exaggerating," Roddy replied casually, just before he took a serious look at the menu and almost had a conniption. "GAK!!!" "Thank you, Roddy. I was searching for just the right description," Nigel remarked, "and somehow, 'GAK!!!' seems to work as well as any other word. I'd like to have five minutes with the buffoon who's setting these prices!" Miranda looked up from her menu, and her face dropped. "Clap hands, here comes a buffoon," she stage-whispered, burying her face in the menu as deeply as possible. One by one, the others turned their heads to see who she could be referring to. "Well, well, Roderick Rat," oozed Bobbo Acme unctuously. "And Nigel Carrotte! *And* the charming Miss Purrenstein," he added, mispronouncing the last syllable 'steen'. "My, my, this *is* a surprise!" Rue glared daggers at Bobbo. "It's pronounced 'stine', and you know it!" Roddy glowered at the owner of The Acme Corporation. "Let me guess, Bobbo. You travel the restaurant circuit every evening now, causing poor unsuspecting diners to lose their appetites, is that it?" Bobbo chuckled good-naturedly. "Very witty, Roderick. No, I just felt like giving Carrotte's some stiff competition, is all..." "'Stiff' don't begin to bleedin' *cover* it, mate!" Leo growled. "For a businessman, you've still got a thing or two to learn about how to run a restaurant..." Ruby tapped Leo on the arm. "Leo, please, not now," she pleaded. "We're here to enjoy ourselves, remember?" "That's asking an awful lot under the circumstances, innit?" he muttered under his breath. "Just what _are_ you doing here, Mr. Acme? I thought you'd agreed to get out of the restaurant biz altogether," Adam asked Bobbo cordially. "I agreed to do no such thing, Mr. Fox. All I did was transfer ownership of Milleway's to the Carrottes, _as_you_well_know_," he insinuated. "Check the paperwork if you like. I can open a _hundred_ restaurants in Acme Acres if I want to, and there isn't a thing your precious Carrottes can do about it. Your problem is, you clump didn't know when you were well off!" He reached over and pulled Miranda's menu down, smiled, said, "Enjoy your meal," and released it. It hit the mink square in the face, knocking her glasses askew. "Ow," she mewled as Bobbo sauntered away casually. It took Roddy, Ruby, Adam and all three Carrottes to restrain RuBarb, who was already hissing furiously and unsheathing her razor-sharp claws, chomping at the bit to get just a piece of Bobbo. "Rue!" Ruby snapped. "Not here!" "But he called us a *clump*!" she snarled furiously. "Why, I never..." "RuBarb, 'clump' means 'bunch'," Leo noted patiently. Rue calmed down instantly. "It... it does?" Responding to the nods of the rest of the group, she added, "Of... *course*... it... does..." "'Enjoy your meal', he says," Roddy spat out contemptuously. "You bet we will... somewhere else! Come on..." With Rue finally quieted down, the group left the increasingly unfriendly confines of Club Swank and stepped outside, where the night air had the added effect of cooling down their tempers. "On the other hand, who wants to eat there, anyway?" he asked bitingly. "All those in favor of food poisoning, raise your hands," Adam replied. There were no takers. That was no surprise. "Well, any other options?" "We could have Bobbo drawn and quartered and served with a light Hollandaise sauce," Rue suggested bitterly. "Um, I don't think that's what he meant," Roddy noted. "Besides, aren't you s'posed to be a 'veghead'?" "Roderick, the word is 'vegetarian', but for that, I'd be willing to break my diet." "But, Rue," Liz said, "that could be fatal..." "So? If Bobbo dies, he dies!" Rue snarled. Ruby sighed. "Nice to know _one_ of us has a firm grip on reality..." She noticed the downcast look on Roddy's face. "I guess we blew it for you, didn't we, hon?" "Oh, well, forget it, babe. It's nobody's fault..." Miranda massaged her nose and replied sharply, "Nobody except Bobbo's." "Heh heh... you know, she's right," Roddy chuckled. "What are we all standing around here for? The night isn't over yet..." "Good point," Nigel concurred. "Ruby, did you bring your cell phone?" "Got it right here," she replied, taking it out of her purse and handing it to the albino rat. "Any reason?" "Well, I know this place, wonderful atmosphere, marvelous assortment, the works. It hasn't opened to the public yet, but I _think_ I can get us in for a private dinner," he smiled. Meeting the befuddled gazes of the Americans in the group, he explained, "See, my sibs and I are very good friends with the owners..." -0- A cell phone call later, the grouping found themselves inside (where else?) Carrotte's. "I might have known," Ruby said, before taking a few moments to study the decor. All the snootiness that was Milleway's had been thrown out, replaced with a total British-themed makeover. The flowery wallpaper had been replaced with vintage posters of classic British rock groups - everyone from The Animals to The Zombies. The gawd-awful muzak had likewise been dumped to make way for an authentic refurbished British jukebox, stacked to the hilt with 200 classic British rock CD's. "I guess Lillian's a rocker at heart, huh?" "Actually," Liz confided, "most of this is Father's idea. He wanted to carry the theme of the London Carrotte's over here to the last detail..." "I think he succeeded," Roddy replied, looking around admiringly. "If I didn't know this used to be Milleway's, I never would've believed it! They did a great redecorating job here." "I'll second *that*," Adam agreed. "What's that room over there?" he asked, pointing to his left. "See for yourselves," Leo grinned. The party did so, and Miranda's jaw nearly dropped. "Leo, is that... my gosh! You've got a record store in there!!" "Yep," the blonde bunny beamed proudly. "Collector's items a specialty. If we don't 'ave it, we can order it! All with one thing in mind..." "Customer satisfaction?" Rue asked. "No, actually, more like a viable alternative to video games for kids to blow their allowances on," Nigel grinned. "Oh, 'ello, Mum!" "Hi, son," Lilly replied. "Giving them the grand tour, I see. Well, find yourselves a table. We'll have someone to take your orders in a few minutes." "Say, Lillian," RuBarb asked, as the guys seated their dates, "whatever happened to the old Milleway's staff? You know, the cooks, waiters, etc. Did you fire them?" "Oh, heavens, no, Rue. They were too good to let go. We just had to give them a crash course in how _we_ do things around here, is all. In fact, we only had to fire one of them." "Just _one_?" "Yes," Lillian replied, allowing an expression to cross her face as if she'd just swallowed a bad batch of carrot consomme. "A rather whiny maitre'd named Simper. Troublemaker from the word 'go'..." "And apparently, you said the word," RuBarb smiled. "I remember him," Adam Fox recalled. "He was Bobbo Acme's personal lackey. Good riddance to him." "Speaking of whom..." Lizzy started. "Not now, Liz. I'm trying to get my appetite back," Adam pleaded. -0- Meanwhile, in the Beacon Hill section of Boston, Massachusetts, the newly married Millicent Purrenstein was sitting in her living room, lazily thumbing through her husband's family scrapbooks. "Harry?" the blonde rat called out. Her husband, the legendary feline financier, robber baron, cold-blooded businesscat, lifetime season ticketholder for the Red Sox, Bruins, Celtics, Boston Pops, _and_ the Boston Symphony, not to mention - when time would permit it, of course - honorary contributor to the Harvard Lampoon, Mr. Harold "Harry" Sheldon Purrenstein, emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray of liverwurst sandwiches. His usual cream colored jacket and hat were replaced by a regulation (extra large, of course) chef's coat and hat. Pinned to the coat was a button which read, 'I order you to kiss the cook (if it wouldn't be too much trouble).'. "Oh, there you are," Millie giggled. "Going through the archives, I see," he commented, in that sonorous basso profundo voice. "Which volume are you on?" "I'm not sure," she replied, quickly checking the album's spine for verification. "Oh... Vol. 37." Her eyes quickly focused through her red frames at a certain picture. "Harry... is this... um... my predecessor?" "Oh, you mean... _her_?!?" he sighed, setting the tray down and peering in closely to get a better look. "No... she'd be in volume 38... oh, wait, that's my sister Regina," he smiled. "That was taken just before she moved to London, I believe... yes, that was it. She was always trying to get me to convert to a vegetarian diet." He paused and padded his stomach wistfully. "There are days when I wish she'd succeeded, actually..." Millie briefly looked up from the album. "Now, dear, you heard what the doctor said. That's not fat, you're just big boned... and well upholstered," she added with a grin. "Now the truth comes out," Harry sighed. "You love me for my padding." "Oh, you!" She studied the picture closer. "Who's that with her?" "Oh, that's her old high school friend, Lillian Bunny. She went with Reggie to London. They did quite well for themselves, as it turned out." "How so?" "Well, as I recall, Reggie married Lord Ambrose-Smythe Purrington XIV, and Lillian married Sir Rupert Carrotte, breezed through the Cordon Bleu cooking school, wrote a series of best selling cookbooks, and became a world famous five-star chef, not necessarily in that order. I believe you've already met her son Nigel." "But," Millie responded, peering closer at the picture, "Lillian's a *rabbit*..." "Nigel was adopted," Harry noted, before freezing. "Good heavens... now he's got *me* doing it..." "Gee, and all I get is plain old Harry Purrenstein," Millie smiled. "You aren't complaining, are you?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised. "Naw," she waved his question off. "I'll take plain old Harry over those titled fellows any day." "Um, you're _sure_ about that, are you?" he chuckled. "Yeah. They sound like a whole lot of no fun..." "Don't be so quick to rush to judgement, dear. Underneath that banker's exterior, for instance, I hear old Rupert has the heart of a scalawag." He took just a beat before continuing. "He keeps it in a jar in the cellar..." "You're warped," Millie chided him. "So, where are Regina and Lillian now?" "Well, they opened the first Carrotte's in London, then a whole chain of them throughout the UK, before Lillian moved back to the States with her family. She and Rupert are planning to open one in Acme Acres..." "Acme Acres... isn't that where RuBarb is?" "Yes. Reg is still in London, although I haven't heard from her in years," he added wistfully, leading Millie to surmise that he missed his sister more than a little. "So that's where you got that 'Purrington' alias from, then?" "Yes," he sighed. "But alas, that is a part of my past that I don't like to bring up..." "Unpleasant experience, huh?" "The worst. Oh, speaking of the, um, 'wurst'," he punned, "care for a sandwich?" "Don't mind if I do," Millie replied... -0- "Say, Adam," Nigel asked, once the gang had given their orders to the waitress, "just what did Bobbo mean by that 'as you well know' crack, anyway?" "I don't know," he replied hastily. "I guess he was just talking to hear himself talk." "I'll accept that," Leo retorted, none too sure that he really did. In the meantime, Lillian looked over the orders and nodded approvingly. "Okay, nothing too out of the ordinary here..." *RING!!* "I'll get that... Hello? Who?... Transatlantic call? From WHO?!? Yes, of course, operator! Put her on!" she said excitedly, causing Rhonda to briefly look up. "Reggie! It's been ages!... Oh, all right, it just seems like it. Wha... You're kidding! When? Saturday? Eleven o'clock? Perfect! One mo..." She addressed Rhonda. "Remember I was telling you about my old partner Reggie?" The strawberry blonde rat nodded accordingly. "She's coming here this weekend for the grand opening!... Yeah, Reg? Oh, gosh, no, I don't know... Yeah, I know... Say, how did you get this... Oh, he did, did he?" Lil giggled. "Well, I'll just have to have a chat with 'im, is all! Okay, see you Saturday! Bye!" Hanging up the phone, she casually sauntered over to the gang's table and administered the 'Eye of Justice' to Nigel. The albino rat took one look and said, "What?!?" "Nigel, did you give out Carrotte's phone number to anybody?" "Um, besides members of the press and the like?" "Yeah, besides..." Nige thought hard for a second and a half. "Um, no, I don't think... oh, blimey, yes I did! I thought Reggie might want to know..." "Reggie?" Miranda asked. "Who's he?" "She," Nige corrected her. "Mum's old business partner in London, and our favourite part-time nanny." He cast a glance at his siblings. "You remember 'er, don't you?" "'Reggie the Veggie'?" Leo asked delightedly. "'Ow could we forget?" "That's what I thought," Lillian smiled. "She just called. She's coming here for the grand opening this weekend." "What time?" Leo and Nige asked. "Elevenish." "Oh, jolly!" Lizzy beamed. "I haven't seen her since... since..." "Since we moved here," Nigel and Leo deadpanned. "Yes..." Lizzy replied, temporarily muted. -0- "So Harry," Millie said, after finishing off the last of the sandwiches, "I'll bet Rue and Regina have some great stories about each other, right?" "Not likely," the big cat stated. Meeting his wife's curious gaze, he explained, "You see, the two of them have never met. She left for London long before Rudelle was born." He paused and heaved a heavy sigh, and Millie could tell it was tinged with regret. "Something else, dear?" "Yes," Harry muttered. "Reg and I... haven't spoken to each other in a good long while." "Well, why not?" "I don't know how, but she found out that I'd agreed to send Rudelle to St. Switchhit's... second biggest mistake I ever made. I suppose if I'd thought it through, if I'd actually *listened* to Rue, I would have put the kibosh on the whole thing, but her mother insisted on it. It wouldn't be telling tales out of school to say that Reg and my ex never got along..." "That bad?" "To be precise, yes. Reg saw her as a gold-digger who only wanted my money. Funny thing is, she turned out to be right. Anyhow, the damage is done..." "Awww, that's sad," Millie sighed. "Yes, when you put it that way..." Harry paused briefly. "Oh, great," he muttered. "What?" "Now you've got _me_ depressed!" "Oops! Sorry... Hey!" "What?" "Why don't you go to Acme Acres for the weekend, get Rue, and the two of you just jet off to London, huh?" Millie said, her blue eyes twinkling behind her red glasses. "I'm sure Rue and Reg would love to meet each other." Harry thought about this briefly. Very briefly. "You know something, Millie? You're absolutely right. After hanging around Nigel, she's learned a thing or two about British culture..." "And a trip to England would be just the thing--" "To bring her back to reality. Excellent idea!" There was a lengthy (and quite uncomfortable) pause while Millie glared at Harry. "I'm kidding?" he said weakly. "Uh-huh..." Harry decided, if not to change the subject, at least to modify it a bit. "Ummm... ever been to Lon--" "I can be packed in five minutes!" "--don?... I guess that answers that, then!" He reached for the phone. "I'll just call Rudelle and..." Millie placed her hands on the receiver, holding it down tightly. "What...?" "You'll do no such thing, Harry! This will work better if it's a surprise." Harry gave this idea some consideration. "You know, Millicent, you're right again! Besides, I'm sure that 'lifting the backdrop' shtick is getting old with her by now. She must wonder what it's like to actually travel by plane..." he chuckled. "Can I at least book the flight?" "You can if you want to." "*Thank* you," Harry smiled, and called the airport to make his reservation. When that was finished, he turned to Millie with an air of self- satisfaction. "Okay, it's settled, then. We'll drop in on her this Saturday." "What time will we leave for London?" "Barring delays, we're set to depart at 11 o'clock!" -0- Saturday dawned with little fanfare, but much preparation. Lionel, Lizbeth and Nigel helped by preparing the guest suite for Regina's stay. They were really looking forward to seeing their friend once more. In the meantime, the Purrensteins had travelled to Acme Acres in order to pick up RuBarb. Harry was also looking forward to seeing his sister again, and was sure that Rue would absolutely love her aunt. They drove up to the dormitory, Harry humming a merry tune, as Millie enjoyed the scenery. Harry, rather the gentlecat, opened his bride's car door for her, and escorted her to the dorm. It was still rather early for a Saturday, so the outer door was still locked. There was, however, a bell that Harry was quick to ring. "Yes?" Penelope yawned, when she finally came to the door. She had only just gotten up, it being the weekend and all. "Hello," Harry said, doffing his hat. "I've come to collect my daughter for a weekend trip." "Oh... I'd imagine she's still asleep, Mr. Purrenstein," Penelope uttered, blinking in surprise. "That's all right. If you'll let me in, I'll wake her," Harry replied with a smile. The black and white cat looked dubious for a few moments, then allowed them in, showing them to RuBarb's room. Once Penelope had opened the door for him, Harry tip-toed, rather gracefully for a cat of his size, to his daughter's bedroom. He paused, gazing at her sleeping form, smiling tenderly. He padded over to her side, and gently kissed her forehead. RuBarb smiled in her sleep, giggle-purred, and murmured Nigel's name. Harry could not help but grin awkwardly, as Rue opened her eyes, and blinked groggily up at him for a second. Then she let loose an ear-piercing scream. Harry stumbled back, surprised, as RuBarb slashed the air instinctively. He fell heavily, of course, through the floor with a loud crash. "Harry? Have you w- Oh my..." Millie uttered as she rushed in to see what the commotion was about. "Millie? Whoa, I wasn't expecting company... Wait a min... 'Harry'?" Rue babbled, as she awoke fully, then looked down into the huge cat-shaped hole in her bedroom floor. "Uh oh..." From below came a slight groan. A beat passed, and there was a shocked scream, obviously feminine, from the same area. RuBarb and Millie could hear Harry attempting to apologize, despite the girl's rising hysteria. "Get OUT, you PERV!" she finally screamed, and the huge feline was quick to comply. His egress was hastened by the barrage of sundry, yet feminine items being thrown from below. An angry *hemph* was rapidly followed by the slamming of boards over the hole, and nails being driven into them. It was a slipshod job, to be honest, but the hole was closed, and Rue's downstairs neighbor now had her privacy. One just had to avoid stepping on the protruding nails. RuBarb looked wryly at the board-covered hole, then at her father. She sat, taylor-fashion, in the middle of her bed, and crossed her arms. "Now, Father, what was so important, that you had to wake me early on a Saturday morning?" "Nothing much. We're just taking a trip to meet your aunt, Princess." "I didn't know I had an aunt Princess," Rue smirked. "Perhaps I should start from the beginning..." Harry sighed. -0- On Saturday, this one being no different, the airport was crowded with toons heading for their vacations, and some on weekend business trips. It was in this crowd that the Carrottes had arrived to pick up Regina. As the family was making its way to the Arrivals gate, Nigel spotted RuBarb struggling with a luggage rack. "Hey, Mum?" Nigel queried, getting Lillian's attention, and drawing it to the struggling feline. "Can I go an' help Rue with her luggage? Mr. Purrenstein must've sprung a surprise trip on 'er." "Oh, yes, dear. Ought to have the chance to wish her a 'bon voyage', after all," the rabbit replied with a fond smile. "Be sure you're at the arrivals gate to greet Reggie, luv. I know you lose track of time when you're with RuBarb, but this time you're both on something of a schedule." "Right you are, Mum," Nigel uttered, saluting jauntily, before making his way over to the struggling feline. He finally reached RuBarb's side, and with a small smile, tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around suddenly, her look of surprise melting into a pleased smile when she realized it was him. Rue took him into her arms with a happy purr, and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him. "My goodness..." Nigel panted. "Do you always greet the odd stranger you meet in an airport so enthusiastically?" "No, silly," RuBarb giggled. "Just my odd boyfriend that I happen to meet in an airport. I was hoping to see you anyway, Nige. Father's feeling a bit nostalgic, so he decided to go and visit his sister in London. Since I've never met her, Father thought it was about time that I did." "Smashing," Nigel chuckled as he grinned, took a hold of the luggage rack and helped move the heavy thing. "Wish I could tag along, and show you my old stomping grounds, but I've been shanghaied into helping with the restaurant, and Reggie's sure to want to be shown about." "Oh, of course. Though, you want to know something weird?" RuBarb queried. "My aunt's name just happens to be Regina." "Really?" "Sure is. Lady Regina Purrington." Suddenly Nigel just stopped, a stunned expression dominating his features. Unfortunately, the luggage rack had built up enough momentum to keep moving. Right over Nigel's foot. His expression was quick to change from one of extreme surprise to one of extreme pain. Nigel then let loose a pained howl, and began to bounce around on one foot, further expressing his discomfort with a series of grunted "owches" and the typical unintelligible cartoon curses that usually accompany such a painful event. "What's going on back there?" Harry asked, turning toward the commotion. "Nigel was helping me with the luggage, Father," Rue replied. "The luggage cart ran over his foot." "And she calls that 'help'," Harry muttered wickedly. "Lor! That HURT!" Nigel observed, as he limped out of frame, his foot (for now at least) bigger than that of either of his rabbit siblings. "Are you all right, Nige?" Rue queried, looking out of frame. "Better now, luv," he said, walking back into the scene. "Now WHY did you let the luggage cart flatten your foot?" the kitten asked with a small sigh. "Oh, nothing much, really," Nigel replied off-handedly. "It's just that your aunt should be disembarking from her plane and meeting my family right about now." "What?!" Harry asked in disbelief. "HAROLD SHELDON PURRENSTEIN!" came a melodic, if shouted, voice. Storming across the airport, a determined expression on her face, was a stunningly beautiful, yet petite, black cat in a stylish blue-green travel suit. The crowds parted before her, giving her (and her temper) plenty of working space. "R-Regina?" Harry uttered, looking pole-axed. "Have you forgotten how to answer your bloody phone, Harry?" she asked, glaring up at her brother. "I've been calling you on and off since yesterday, and you 'aven't picked up ONCE! And you won't believe the number of messages I left on your voice mail." Harry stood there, looking sheepish, then blinked at the words 'voice mail.' The huge feline reached into his coat pocket, and brought out an extremely small black plastic rectangle. He flipped it open, which did not help the size a bit, and (with extreme caution) punched in a series of numbers on the minuscule keypad. "You'd think he'd have sent me a card with his cell phone number on it," Reggie sighed. "That tiny thing's a cell phone?" Nigel uttered. "Oh yes," Regina laughed. "Heard that they're the only thing a male will brag about having the smallest one of." "Did that militant feminist French skunk tell you that one, Reg?" Regina just grinned, winked at RuBarb, headlocked Nigel, and gave him a good noogying. The fun and games came to a stop, when the *clang* of a dropped jaw captured their attention. "One hundred and fifty-seven messages?" Harry exclaimed. "I cleaned my voice mail out YESTERDAY!" He listened to a couple, looking sheepish again, and finally disconnected from the service. Then the micro-phone rang, flattening everybody in the airport with its audio assault. "Funny," Nigel slurred, as he oozed down the wall he had smacked into. "I would have never 'spected 'Merrily We Roll Along'..." Regina carefully climbed down from a potted palm, her head still ringing. "A cell phone with subwoofers. He WOULD get the one with the options package," she muttered. "Last time I EVER send him a subscription to The Sharper Image for his birthday." "Pardon me a moment," Harry apologized, answering his cell phone, and silently cursing the fact that he still didn't know where the volume control was on the blasted thing. Meanwhile, Nigel had sufficiently recovered enough to signal his family that Regina had arrived. The Carrottes wasted no time in joining them. While they reunited themselves with their old friend, Harry finished his call, and was now rejoined by Millie, who took the phone from him, switched off the volume, and handed it back to him. "Let's have no more interruptions from that thing, okay, honey?" she cooed. "I'm getting a headache from it." "As you wish, dear... where were you, anyway?" "Cancelling our flight, what else? Obviously, we won't be going anywhere now," she reasoned. Extending a hand, she introduced herself to Reggie. "Hi, I'm Millie." "Um, hello," Reggie answered, then turned to her brother. "So, Harry, what happened to the strumpet?" she inquired, causing Nige and his siblings to crack up in spite of their upbringing (a reaction which was cut short by a sharp "Ahem!" from Rupert). Rue was torn between shaking her head and burying it in her hands. Finally, she did both. "If you mean 'Plaintiff', you may consider her ancient history, sister dear," Harry muttered as politely as he could, given the circumstances. "High time," Reg chastised him. "Never really liked her anyway, that gold-digging..." "We both know how you felt about her, Regina..." "With a pointed stick..." "Yes. Rudelle, you'll have to excuse your aunt. She has this unfortunate tendency to say whatever's on her mind, and darn the torpedoes." Rue had adequately recovered from her embarrassment by this time. "Really? I'd never have guessed..." she smirked. "Hold on, Rue!" Liz exclaimed. "You mean our Reggie is your AUNT?!? Talk about your small worlds!" "Some other time, perhaps," Lillian reminded her. "We _do_ have a restaurant to open, after all!" -0- "Well, this is it," Lillian said, after giving Reggie the grand tour. "What do you think of it?" "What do you *want* me to think, Lil? It's perfect!" Regina smiled approvingly. "I love it! How did you ever find a place like this?" "Let's just say we lucked into it," Lillian replied. "Lillian, you *know* I don't believe in luck," Reg admonished her. "It's the last refuge of the superstitious." "Okay, since you asked, it was a gift from your brother..." "Harry? Well, that figures. He's always pulling stunts like that." "Like what?" "I know he's got this reputation for being hard as nails, but deep down, he's a pussycat... no pun intended. Sometimes I think he's too generous for his own good." "Trust me, Reg, you won't hear *me* complaining!" Lillian laughed. "That places you in the majority, then," Reg noted. "There *are* one or two folks who were recipients of his generous nature and never quite forgave him for it!" "Really, Reggie?" Lizzy asked. "I kind of find that hard to believe!" She paused, as if collecting her thoughts. "Um, you wouldn't care to say..." "No, I wouldn't, Lizbeth... and even if I wanted to, I promised Harry I wouldn't, so... oh, wait a minute, here he comes..." she said, quickly changing the subject. "So, kid brother, did you ever figure out how to parallel park?" Harry grimaced briefly. "Changing the subject again, are we, Regina?" "Oops! I guess that one was a little _too_ obvious, wasn't it?" she said. "A little, yes," Harry grumbled. "Now, now, you two, save the sibling infighting for later," RuBarb advised them. "It's almost showtime..." She looked around the restaurant and spotted Rhonda arriving through the back door, followed by Ruby and Roberta. "Oh, there you are!" "Sorry I'm late, everybody," Ronnie apologized. "We couldn't find a parking space..." She stopped cold when she spotted Harry. "Oh, my... Lillian, when you decide to hire a bouncer, you don't kid around!" "Huh?" the bunny replied, perplexed. "I didn't... *oh*! You mean you haven't met yet? Well, let's get the intros out of the way then. Rhonda Rat, this is Lady Regina Purrington..." "'Reggie The Veggie'?" "Your infamy precedes you, dear sister," Harry grinned. "As your stomach precedes *you*, dear brother," Reggie shot back, to Rhonda and Ruby's amusement. "Not bad! I'll have to remember that," Ruby quipped. "I wish you'd forget it," Rhonda said. "Oh, boy... Reg, this is your Stateside equivalent, Rhonda, and her daughters Rhubella..." "How do you do?" Ruby asked. "Not bad," Reggie replied. "...and Roberta," Lil continued. "And of course," Rue added, "this is her brother, and my father, Harry Purrenstein... Relax, ladies, he doesn't bite." "Pleased to meet you," Rhonda said, a little nervously, as Harry took her hand in his and shook it gently. "Charmed, I'm sure," Harry greeted her, bowing politely. Roberta, on the other hand, couldn't keep from staring wide-eyed at the big cat. "Bobbie, it's not polite to stare," Ruby stage whispered. "Well, go on, say something..." Roberta continued to stare, then she gulped and said, hesitantly, "Er... you're a *big* drink of water, ain't you?" "*Roberta*..." Ruby groaned. "It's quite all right, Rhubella," Harry reassured her, laughing out loud. "Why, I do believe that's the first time I've ever been called that!" "I see," Reg noted pleasantly. "So my calling you a big drip doesn't count, eh?" "Um, no, not quite," Harry replied, just as pleasantly. Lillian looked at her watch and sprinted towards the front door. "Well, enough gabbing. Time to see if Acme Acres is ready for this..." -0- Parked just a couple of blocks away from all this was a black limousine. Inside, the two occupants - Bobbo Acme and his lackey, Simper - watched the proceedings with more than mild interest. "Well, Simper?" "Yes, sir?" "It seems I have badly underestimated the Carrottes." "In what way?" "I will grant that the concept of a British restaurant in Acme Acres does have a certain... _curiosity_ value, I'll give them that much," Bobbo said patronizingly. "However, the novelty will soon wear off. The customers will grow tired of them and switch to more traditional fare, stupid cattle..." "Are you referring to the customers or the fare, sir?" Bobbo thought about this for a second. "Um... both, Simper..." "If you say so, sir." "I _know_ so. I've seen it happen all too often... wait a minute... who's *that*?" He grabbed a pair of binoculars for a better look, and nearly had a fit. "BLAST! It's *PURRENSTEIN*! What's *he* doing here?" "He's probably checking up on his 'investment'," Simper yawned casually. Bobbo turned sharply to his right. "Who asked *you*?" "You did." "Oh. Of course. Just checking. Tell me something, Simper... what would be the quickest way to rain on those twerps' parade, hmmm?" "Knowing how they feel about you, sir, I'd say your just showing up would do it." "Well, well, well, Simper, it does appear you have a brain after all." "Thank you, sir," Simper replied dourly. "I'll try not to let it go to my head." "Yes, goodness knows we wouldn't want _that_," Bobbo muttered. -0- "Oh, my!" exclaimed Lillian, as a horde of hungry toons were shown to their respective tables. "I didn't expect _this_ big of a crowd! No wonder you couldn't find a parking spot, Ronnie!" She looked around and noticed that she was now talking to empty air. "Rhonda? Where'd she go?" "She's in the kitchen, where else?" Rhubella smiled. "Gee, Reggie, this is just like old times, innit?" Leo asked. The petite black cat paused uncertainly for a second, before finally replying, "Yes, just about... Lil, could I have a word with you in private?" "Certainly, Regina... RuBarb?" "Yes, Mrs. C.?" "I hate to impose, but could you be a dear and help show some of the customers to their tables until we get back?" "Sure thing," the kitten replied. This caused Harry to mutter, "Fine thing, a daughter of mine pressed into service as a common waitress. I can see the résumé now: 'Rudelle Purrenstein: scullery maid'." Rue gave Harry one of _those_ looks. "Father, you wanted me to be able to experience everything the real world has to offer, right?" "Well, yes..." "Well, this is part of it, and like it or not, your daughter is going to be a waitress for today!" Harry grimaced in resignation until Rue added with a grin, "Of course, being a Purrenstein, I'm going to be an *uncommon* waitress!" Harry couldn't argue with logic like that. He was too busy chuckling. "When you're right, Princess, you're right!" He paused, and added, "Well, don't just stand there... don't you have customers to take care of?" "Oh! Right!" Rue exclaimed, and proceeded to launch into her temporary new career with relish (not to mention mustard, Worcestershire sauce, and other condiments). "There she goes," Harry observed. "My daughter, the 'condiment kitty'..." "I *heard* that, Father!" In the meantime, Nigel had joined Rhonda in the kitchen. "What are *you* supposed to be, your mother's eyes and ears?" she giggled. Nigel smiled warmly. "Hardly, Rhonda. I was practically raised in Mum's kitchen, you know. Needless to say, she had to do a lot of explaining to folks... especially when it came time to change my nappies," he added with a wink. "Um, 'nappies'?" "Diapers," Nigel replied with a broad grin, causing Rhonda to cringe at the mental picture. "Relax, I'm having you on!" "If that means you're kidding, I should *hope* so!" "It does, it does," Nigel reassured her. Rhonda noticed that his speech was now a little less jovial. "Besides, I think Mum's eyes and ears are already well occupied with Auntie Reg," he said quietly, donning his chef's hat and coat. "How so?" Nigel sighed. "Her husband, Lord Ambrose-Smythe Purrington XIV... has Mum ever mentioned him?" Rhonda shook her head in the negative. "Well, dear Uncle Amby had a bit of a stroke recently. He's not at all well." "Oh, I'm sorry, Nigel. When did this happen?" "Just before we moved here. That's the real reason behind this huge time lag between the time my sibs and I got here and Mum and Da's arrival, you see." "I thought it was because of business matters with the bank or something like that." "No, no, nothing like that. They wanted to be with Reg as much as possible. As you may have gathered, our families are extremely close," he smiled. "The first week was the hardest for her..." Rhonda exhaled. "I know what you mean. It was the same way with us when Ruby's father died. Eventually, we all just picked up the pieces and carried on as best we could. That's all we *could* do." "Well, if you don't mind me saying so, you've succeeded admirably." "Why, thank you, Nigel... Oh, listen to us, will you? Flapping our lips off when we should be working..." "Right you are," Nigel smiled warmly in her direction. "Now let's see... *where* does Mum hide the chicken embryos at?" he asked, causing Rhonda to laugh out loud. -0- Meanwhile, in the cavernous room that served as Roderick Rat's office, Roddy was involved in some heavy thinking, when Danforth Drake interrupted him. "Say, Roderick, old boy..." "What is it now, Danforth?" he sighed. "Sorry to interrupt you..." "No you're not. Get on with it." "Fair enough. I've heard you've done a one-eighty, so to speak..." Danforth insinuated gleefully. Roderick turned around and glared sharply at his cohort. "What is *that* supposed to mean?!?" he growled. "And it better not mean what I _think_ it means, either..." "No, I was referring to your relaxed attitude towards those Carrotte peasants," Danforth paused, a smirk forming on his bill. "Why? What did *you* think I meant?" "Oh... nothing, nothing..." "Riiiight..." "Listen, Drake, don't get the wrong idea, just because their old man forked over the dough to save Perfecto, and just because you may have seen me hanging around with them," Roddy insisted. "They're *still* going down!" "Ah, so nothing's changed?" Danforth chuckled. "Not by a long shot," Roddy replied. "I just have to think of a new angle, that's all. It'll come to me, though, just you wait. And when it does... POW!" he yelled, smacking his fist into his hand like he wanted to do it to Nigel (and startling the heck out of Danforth in the process). -0- "Whoa! Nice place you've got here, Lizzy," Buster noted as he, Babs, Plucky, Shirley, Fifi and Hamton were shown to their table. "Yeah," Plucky agreed. "Definitely an improvement over the previous joint!" "Like, how would *you* know what Milleway's was like, Plucky?" Shirley challenged him. "I've heard stories," he replied calmly. "So, Liz, where are the others?" asked Babs. "Let's see, now... Rue's helping with the customers, Nigel's in the kitchen..." "Doing what, cooking?" Plucky chortled. "Don't laugh, Plucky. He's actually quite good, isn't that right, Fifi?" "Oui," the purple skunkette sighed morosely. "Why, Fifi, is something wrong?" "Oh, non, Hamton. Eet's just that Nigel ees, how vous say, a beet of a show-up in ze kitchen..." "'Show-off'," everyone corrected her. "Merci," Feef replied. "Oh, don't I know that," Liz agreed. "He knows his way around a kitchen so well, it's hard to believe he's adopted! You'd think he inherited it from Mum!" "Something else, Feef?" Babs wondered aloud. "Eet's just... I can't believe he takes moi home ec classes just for ze economics! Zat, and... hees meringue ees so much _better_ than mine!" "Ah, so _now_ the truth can be told!" Liz smiled. "Well, don't take it so hard, Fifi. And as for Leo..." She looked around the room quizzically. "Hmm. Where on earth did he get to?" Right on cue, her question was answered by a high-speed female giggling the group knew only too well. "Well, that answers that," Liz replied, a knowing smile on her face. "Miranda must be here. Judging by the direction, I'd say they're in the record shoppe. Excuse me a minute..." she added, making her way to the adjoining room and poking her head in the doorway, where she found Leo and Miranda engaged in their never-ending game of 'Tickle Me'. "Bloody 'eck, it's worse than I thought!" Liz mumbled. Clearing her throat at extreme volume, she asked, "So, I take it you two still haven't found what you're looking for?" "Curses! Foiled again!" Leo sighed. "Ditto," agreed Miranda. "Oh well... some other time, perhaps..." The mink pushed her glasses up and glanced over the record racks, when something caught her eyes. "Hey! I've been looking _everywhere_ for a copy of 'The Best of OMD' on CD!" she declared, as she eagerly removed the compact disc from the rack. "Um, I don't s'pose I can get a discount?" she hinted sweetly. "Well, 'tis a bit irregular, but for you, luv, I can let you have it for $12.98," Leo shrugged. "Sounds fair to me," Miranda said, digging in her pockets and pulling out enough money to cover the purchase. "Boy, this'll sound great on my... heyyy!" "Something wrong, luv?" Leo asked innocently. "Lionel, the sticker price on this *is* $12.98!" "You see? That's why I can let you have it for that price," he winked. "Any lower, and my folks would *throttle* me! Or at the very least, give me a bloody good tongue lashing!" -0- Meanwhile, Reggie accompanied Lil into her office. "May I sit down?" she asked. Lil nodded. "Thank you," she said, and sat on a couch located across from Lil's desk. Lillian sat next to her "It's good to see you again, Lil!" "Same here. So, tell me, Reg, how's Amby doing?" "Boy, you don't waste time, do you? Better, thanks, socialised medicine notwithstanding..." "Hmm. I *wondered* where Lizzie got her lousy attitude about the medical profession from. How are *you* holding up?" "Well, to be honest, Lil, not so good. Ever since the stroke, I've had to divide my time between running the restaurant, looking after Ambrose, and crossing my fingers hoping that I don't go crazy in the process..." "I know, dear. It hasn't been easy for you, has it?" Lil asked. Reg shook her head. "You always _were_ a bit of a workaholic, though, weren't you?" "Runs in the family, I guess," Reg agreed. "Harry's the exact same way." The petite black cat stared off into space. "Oh well," she sighed. "I've always been trying to get Amby to change his diet. I just never thought it would take something like this to do it. And then there's the climate. All of that damp and chill isn't doing him a bit of good. Frankly, Lil, I'm just about up the junction, if you get my drift." "Ah, yes," Lillian replied. "Drift gotten. Well, have you given any thought to moving?" "Briefly," Reg said. "That would just be a logistical nightmare!" "I don't quite follow..." "Okay. If we did move, it would probably be better for Amby, but I'm afraid the restaurant would suffer for it, to say nothing of myself. All that commuting back and forth, you see..." "Oh, right, I can see where that would be inconvenient," Lillian mused. A knock on her office door interrupted her. "And speaking of which, come in..." RuBarb poked her head inside the doorway. "Hi, Auntie Reg. Um, Mrs. C., I don't mean to tell you how to run your restaurant, but if you *could* put in an appearance every so often..." "Okay, Rue, I'm coming," Lil smiled. "Your niece, Miss Tactless of 1996. Anything wrong?" "Oh, not much," Rue grinned. "We're doing a soundcheck, and Miranda insists upon singing..." "YIPE!" Lil shrieked, rising from the couch post haste. "That'll drive the customers away, no matter *how* good the food is!" Reg followed at a close pace, matching Lillian and RuBarb stride for stride. "Miranda? Who's she?" "She's Lionel's girlfriend, the Loonies' new drummer and a _terrible_ singer," Rue replied. "Oh, come now, she can't be *that* bad," Reg admonished her niece. "Yes, she can, too!" Rue cautioned, as the threesome made their way to the bandstand, where Leo and Miranda were running through the last minute details that always accompany soundchecks; Leo fine tuning his 12-string British Union guitar, Miranda letting loose with a few paradiddles and tuning the drum heads ever so slightly to get just the right sound. "That's her back there," Lil said, pointing to the bespectacled mink. "Ah, I see... she's a little _young_ for him, isn't she?" Regina couldn't help but giggle. "Not really, she's only a half a year younger. She just _looks_ like an eleven-year-old," Rue noted. "I stand corrected... say, what's that on her head?" "Hair," Rue snickered. "No, silly," Reg sighed. "Oh! You mean... hey, what *is* that, anyway?" Rue wondered, scratching her head. It looked like one of the wireless headset microphones that the Loonies used whenever performing, except for the extra-large padded ear cushions straight out of the 1970's school of bad headphone design, and a thin cable running from the microphone to a collar around her neck decorated with what appeared to be five or six chrome diamonds in front. "Oh, hi, guys," Miranda smiled. "Hi, yourself. Miranda, meet my aunt Regina. Regina, Miranda. What _is_ that thing, anyway?" "It's our latest invention, Rue." "*Our*?" Rue asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I had the idea for it," Leo admitted, beaming proudly, "and Miranda sort of slapped the whole thing together." "Son," Lillian said with a hesitant grin, "I hate to tell you this, but headset mikes have already been invented..." "Not *this* kind, they haven't!" Miranda declared. "Are we ready?" "Just about," Leo replied. "Um, 'Everyone's Gone To The Moon'?" "They will once they get a load of *her*," Lizzy whispered fretfully. "Sh," Rue whispered back. "One.. two..." Leo counted off. The duo then played the intro to Jonathan King's hit flawlessly, before Miranda took a deep breath and sang the first verse: "Streets full of people, all alone, Rows full of houses, never home, Church full of singing out of tune, Everyone's gone to the moon..." Everyone's jaws dropped. Miranda was singing *beautifully*! Leo picked up the second verse: "Eyes full of sorrow, never wet, Hands full of money, all in debt, Sun coming out in the middle of June, Everyone's gone to the moon." The two looked at each other, smiled, and went into the middle eight, in perfect harmony: "Long time ago, life had begun, Everyone went to the sun..." Now, the big finish, the last verse: (Leo): "Cars full of motors, painted green..." (Miranda): "Mouths full of chocolate covered creme..." (Both): "Arms that can only lift a spoon, Everyone's gone to the moon, Everyone's gone to the moon, Everyone's gone to the moon."* The room exploded in thunderous applause at the impromptu performance, including the rest of the Loonies themselves. "Thank you, thank you," Miranda smiled, adding, "We're also available for bat mitzvahs!" "I wish you'd have told me that before I had _mine_," RuBarb muttered, with a silly little smirk on her face. -0- The applause could be heard clear out in the street, and did not go unnoticed by Bobbo and Simper. "Well, shall we get out the umbrellas, Simper... metaphorically speaking, that is?" Bobbo chuckled. "Why not?" The two got out of their limo and walked briskly towards Carrotte's... and collided with Roddy and Danforth, who were approaching from the opposite direction! "OW!!! Why don't you peasants watch where you're..." Roddy snarled, before recognition set in. "ULP!!!" "Likewise," said Danforth. "Well, Roderick," Bobbo said unctuously, "we clash again." "So it would seem. What brings _you_ out to Dullsville?" "If you _must_ know..." "And you _mustn't_...," Simper sneered. Bobbo continued. "I'm just about to put a little damper on those idiot Carrottes' fun." Roddy smiled wickedly. "Really? What a coincidence... that's just why *I'm* here!" "You?!?" Simper asked in disbelief. "Given your track record, Broderick, you couldn't put out a forest fire with a pre-moistened towelette!" "That's *Roderick*, fella!" "Boys, boys, boys," Bobbo said soothingly. "Since it appears we're after the same thing here, namely, complete and utter ruination of those Carrotte clods, I propose a partnership." "Watch yourself, Roddy," Danforth whispered cautiously. "Right," Roddy whispered back. "Um, tell me, Bobbo, how do you plan to go about it?" "By playing on their weakness, of course..." "They don't *have* weaknesses," Danforth noted. "Oh, pish-tosh, Drake! *Everybody* has a weakness if you look for it hard enough!" Bobbo replied. "Yes, like that so-called band their brats have," Simper added. "That 'so-called band' of theirs was the hit of the Perfecto Cotillion, I'll have you know!" said Roddy. "A _smash_ hit, as it were," Simper chuckled. Bobbo glared at his lackey and punched him in the gut. "OOF! Why did you...?" "*Nobody's* supposed to know about that, you idiot!" Bobbo whispered through clenched teeth. "Oh, knock it off, Acme!" Roddy said. "We already know that _you_ were responsible for that little disaster!" "Oh... you do... um... you haven't actually *told* anyone, have you?" Simper asked nervously. Roddy grinned. "Are you kidding? Who'd *believe* it? Anyway, as I was about to say, I have it on good authority that they're looking to play better gigs..." "Whose authority?" snapped Simper. "The New York Port Authority and shut up!" Roddy countered. "But that isn't important. They'll never land those gigs as long as that fool Nigel does all the bookings for them..." "Ah yes, Nigel," Bobbo seethed. "A disgrace to rats everywhere..." he paused, and then his eyes lit up. "Of *course*! What those idiots need is..." "A good swift kick in the..." "QUIET, Simper! What they need is a _real_ manager!" Roddy eyed Bobbo suspiciously. "And that would just happen to be *you*?" "No, my boy, that would be _too_ obvious. We need someone who they can _trust_... tell me, how are _you_ getting along with them?" "Me?" Roddy cackled. "They think I'm their best friend in the world right... about... now..." Now it was Roddy's turn for his eyes to light up. "Ohhhh... that's *brilliant*!" -0- As Miranda began packing away her headset mike, Lizzy approached her. "Miranda, I thought you couldn't sing!" "Oh, I can't," the mink admitted cheerfully, handing the mike to Liz. "That's why we came up with this. Be careful with it, it's the only one there is," she cautioned, before going into detail about how it worked. "Now, you see these little antennas on the ear cushions?" Lizzy squinted hard. "No, I... oh, wait, yes, I see them now! They look like a couple of loose stitches! What are they for?" "Glad you asked. The one on the right is sort of my own personal FM monitor. We have a box that we plug into the mixer board that compresses all the instruments and vocals, and then I hear the result in the right channel." "Ah, yes. What's with the throat cable?" Miranda giggled lightly. "That's as good a term for it as anything else, Liz. See this choker I'm wearing?" Lizbeth nodded. "Well, these chrome thingies are actually computerized sensors that monitor my throat vibrations and... well, they sort of 'anticipate' the note I'm trying to sing, and then they make the necessary corrections. The cable plugs into the back, see?" Miranda pointed to the tiny jack where the cable connected. "And the great thing is, when I'm not using it on stage, the collar doubles as a fashion accessory." "Clever, Miranda. But what about the left antenna?" "Ah, I was wondering when you were going to get to that. If you look close, you'll see there's actually *two* cables running from the mike, which, by the way, isn't real." "Hey, it isn't! Why not?" "Are you *kidding*? If it were, it'd broadcast my yowling all over the place, and who the heck needs that? The second cable is connected to the antenna in the left earpiece, and *that* is what acts as the actual microphone, sending the signal through the previously mentioned box and out the mixer board." "Impressive," said Lizzie admiringly, handing the headset mike back to Miranda. "If a little unwieldy..." "Yes, I know. Well, this *is* still a prototype, after all. Eventually, we hope to slim it down somewhat. See, Leo and I envisage uses for it beyond my lack of singing ability, like for toons who lose their voices after surgery, and so on. But that's still a ways away," Miranda smiled. "Lionel?" Liz asked in disbelief. "When did *he* become Mr. Selfless?" Miranda shrugged. "Beats me..." -0- As Bobbo and Simper entered the restaurant, they each turned a critical eye towards the decor. "Hmmm..." Bobbo muttered. "They've certainly dumbed down to the lowest common denominator, haven't they, Simper?" "It would appear so, sir... heads up, here comes the power that be." "Duly noted, Simper, duly noted..." he whispered, as Lillian and Regina approached him. "Ah, Mrs. Carrotte. Everything going well?" he asked, oozing out the charm. "For what it's worth, yes, very much so," Lillian replied, as cordially as she could. "Hello, Simper," she muttered. "Can I show you two... gentlemen... to a table?" "Well... now that you mention it, Mrs. Carrotte, I *am* feeling a bit peckish," Bobbo admitted. "How about you, Simper?" "Actually, sir..." "A table for two would be fine, Mrs. Carrotte," Bobbo beamed, before turning his attention to the feline. "And just who is *this* charming young woman? I do not believe I've had the pleasure..." "Well, keep trying, you may just get lucky," Regina countered, causing Simper to stifle a small laugh. "Reg, really!" Lillian laughed. "I'm sorry. Mr. Bobbo Acme, may I present Lady Regina Purrington?" "How do you do?" Bobbo asked, extending a hand. "I manage," Regina replied. "I like you. You're sort of amusing, in a 'what the heck is wrong with you?' kind of way." She smiled broadly. "Er... my, my, wit *and* beauty... you intrigue me, Lady Purrington." "Really?" Reg replied... well, cattily. "Well, well. I didn't know you had a thing for Jewish girls, Bobbo." Bobbo didn't know how to react to that, one way or the other. "REG!" Lillian shrieked, trying and failing to control her own shocked laughter, which was just loud enough to reach the ears of Harry. "What in the world does *she* find so amusing?" he asked Millie absently. "Beats me, dear, unless it's something your sister was saying to that rat over there," she said, pointing in Lil, Reg and Bobbo's direction. "What rat over..." Harry asked calmly, following her finger. Then he nearly had a major seizure. "*URK!!!*" "Harry! Are you all right?" Millie asked, worried. "I... I'll be fine, dear," he replied, panting heavily and clutching his vest. "I thought I saw my sister talking to Bobbo Acme for a minute..." Millie looked again in their direction. "Oh. *That's* Bobbo Acme?" "**URK!!!**" "Harry... is there something you haven't been telling me?" Harry grimaced inwardly, not to mention outwardly as well. "Very well, dear. You may as well know *everything*," he began. "You see, back in my younger days, Bobbo Acme and I both attended Perfecto Prep on an athletic scholarship, although I had more than my share of misgivings about it." "Oh? How come?" "You're a movie buff, right?" "This is leading somewhere, I suppose," Millie smiled. "Yes, unfortunately. Do you remember a film called 'School Ties'?" Millie drummed her fingers on her chin as she attempted to recall the movie Harry had mentioned. Finally her eyes lit up. "Oh, yes, I remember it. That was the one about..." Then a strange look came over her. Her usual perky visage was replaced by a mixture of shock and disbelief. "You're kidding!... Aren't you?" Harry sighed deeply. "Dearest, I would never kid about something so reprehensible as that. Back in those days, Perfecto was even more exclusive than they are now, and I mean that in the most despicable terms." "Ah, so _that's_ why you adopted the name 'Purrington'?" "With Reggie and Ambrose's blessings, naturally. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to protect me." "Gee, looking at your old photos, I'd hardly think you'd have *needed* protecting," Millie giggled. Harry allowed himself the luxury of a small laugh. "Point well taken, dear. However, you could be the most buffed-up toon on the block, and it still wouldn't protect you from..." He looked cautiously around him, and then whispered the hated word, "...dip." To say that Millie's eyes went wide was like saying Plucky was obnoxious. "No!" she whispered in return. "Yes," Harry remarked. "Mind you, it was a primitive form of the stuff, not as fatal as the real thing, but it could have still led to some nasty scarring..." "And Bobbo was involved?" "Not as such, no. You see, there was this small clique at Perfecto that suffered from an inferiority complex..." "Meaning?" "They felt everyone else was inferior to them. When they found out about me, they decided to make me an example, and they decided to use Bobbo as the patsy. He was supposed to lure me to a certain spot on campus under some such pretense or other at a prearranged time, whereupon the rest of them would stand on the roof and dump the dip on me. At least, that's how it was supposed to work in theory." "But it didn't work in practice..." "No. Here's where it gets slightly complicated. Bobbo played out his part, but at the last second, campus security caught them on the roof, they panicked and dumped the stuff too soon. As it turned out, Bobbo was right in its path!" "Gosh! What happened?" "Well, let's just say it was a good thing for him I was on the football team," Harry acknowledged with a shrug. "I should think so! So, what happened to the others?" "Fortunately, the Board of Regents didn't happen to share their particular views, and expelled them all, except for Bobbo, and that's only because I put in a good word for him." "You didn't have to, you know..." "I know," Harry said mysteriously, adding, "Of course, *he* didn't have to alert security, either... Seems as grandson of Perfecto's founder, Bobbo couldn't tolerate that sort of nonsense, either." "And that's it?" "That's it, pretty much. Mind you, I don't think he knows that *I* know it was he who blew the whistle on them." Harry paused for a moment, as if he'd overlooked something all these years, and it was only now coming to light. "Something else, dear?" "You know, Millicent, it never occurred to me until just now..." "What, Harry?" "If he *knew* what was going to happen, why on earth did Bobbo choose to stand where he did?" "Beats me. You might as well ask why *you* chose to shove him out of the way. I'm only a psych major. Ethics are another field," Millie smiled. -0- Meanwhile, Nigel was sitting at a table near the kitchen entrance, thumbing through a daily planner, and frowning. Roddy took this as his cue, and casually sauntered up to the albino. "I say, Nigel, running out of alternative dates?" he snickered. "Wha?... Oh, hullo, Roddy. No, I was just going over our bookings for the next three months is all," he sighed, handing him the book. Roddy thumbed through it, and slowly raised one eyebrow. "Um, Carrotte, at the risk of stating the obvious, it seems to me you have a dearth of dates here..." Roderick suggested pleasantly. "Don't I just know it," Nigel replied morosely. "I'd like to be able to book us into some of the more high-paying places once in a while. Mind you, the school circuit is nice and comfortable, but I'd like to get The Loonies into a private club or fancy hotel eventually..." "Well, whaddaya know," Roddy declared with a grin. "You're just as big a status seeker as I am, aren't you?" Nigel gave Roddy one of those 'Spock looks'. "Not at all, old fellow. It's just *that's* where the real money is. College tuition is quite a load already, and by the time we're old enough for it, it's going to be more, so we want to make sure we have enough socked away on our own without driving Mum and Da to the poor'ouse." "Um, Nigel, if you don't mind my saying so, do you really think those places will even take you *seriously* at your age?" "There, Roderick, old boy, is the problem in a nutshell," Nige continued to sigh. "Any suggestions, outside of aging rapidly?" "Well," Roddy replied, putting on a fine show of thinking it over, "I do have one, but I don't know how keen you'll be on it..." "At this point, Roddy, I'm a desperate rat. Suggest away." For Roddy, this was like taking candy from a baby. Only easier. "Have you ever heard of The Diamond Club?" he hinted. "Wot is that, a group of rounders fanciers?" "Heh heh heh, not bad, Carrotte. Actually, it's one of those private clubs you were talking about, and I hear they're desperate for entertainment. Now, fortunately for you, *I* just happen to have a few connections over there, as the fathers of some of my old classmates are members, and owe me a few minor... favors, shall we say?" "Really?" Nigel asked, slowly becoming interested. "Really. Now, they've got a function planned for a month from now, and I happen to know they're looking high and low for a band. I can *guarantee* you a booking there, *if* you let me take over your management!" Nigel froze for a few seconds. "You? And pray, just why should I up and hand our musical futures over to *you*, might I ask?" Roddy calmly handed the planner back to Nigel, clearly pointing out the blank pages. "The answer is there in invisible ink, my friend," Roderick stated. "So to speak. Think about it, Nigel. I'm older, I have all the right connections; and no offense meant, dear boy, but in places like these, the name 'Perfecto Prep' opens a lot more doors than 'Acme Loo' does. You see my point?" he said hypnotically. Nigel blinked as if he were coming out of a trance, and considered this unexpected offer. "To be honest, Roddy, I'm not sure about this. I'll admit I haven't exactly been setting the proverbial woods on fire when it comes to getting us the *really* big gigs, that is true," Nigel sighed. "I'm afraid what I have in charm and charisma, I more than lack when it comes to having 'all the right connections', and that outweighs charm and charisma any day, unfortunately." He sighed again, and continued. "However, if I've learnt anything at all, it's that saying you have the right connections and actually *having* them are two entirely different things, wouldn't you agree?" "Oh, right, absolutely," Roddy agreed. "However, I don't think you have anything to worry about in that department, Nigel." "Well, that's as may be," Nigel said, "but could I have just a little time to discuss this with the rest of the band?" "If you wish..." Roddy said lazily. "And of course, our consultant will have to be apprised as well." This took Roddy somewhat aback. "Y-you have a consultant?" "Doesn't everybody these days?" Nigel smiled. "Oh, yeah, so they do... Good point... Very well..." Roddy said, heading back to his table, muttering, "They have a *consultant*?" Nigel, likewise, also headed back to the table where the rest of the Loonies were waiting for him. "So, Nige, what'd Roddy have to say?" Leo asked. "Besides not much and very little," added Miranda. "Brace yerselves," Nigel replied. "'E wants to become our manager..." "*WHAT*?!?" Lizzie exploded. "Has 'e flipped? For that matter, brother dear, 'ave *YOU* flipped?!?" "Not at all, Lizzie. I'm just facing the facts; namely, that I'm not as good a manager as I thought I was. And Roderick *did* put forth some very convincing arguments on his behalf," Nigel explained, repeating the selling points Roddy had told him only moments before. "So he talks a good game," Rue said cynically. "So could any con man on any dimly-lit corner. What makes you think he's sincere?" "Well, he _did_ seem to know what he was talking about," the albino said agreeably, "and you must admit that his being a 'Perfectoid' *does* give him access to places we mere mortals couldn't even *hope* to get our feet in..." "In *his* case, I hope it's a bear trap..." Miranda muttered. "I don't know, Nige," Liz said doubtfully. "Something tells me he's just doing this to make fools of us. Rue?" "Same here. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him." "Hmm. Well, when you have an opinion, let me know, luv. 'Ow 'bout you, Miranda?" "Something smells fishy about this whole setup, if you ask me." "I guess I'm going to have to make it unanimous, Nigel," Leo said. "As much as I'd like to give Roddy the benefit of the doubt, I'll have to settle for all of the doubt and none of the benefit. Sorry, old boy." "I see," Nigel replied solemnly, briefly turning away from the gazes of the rest of the band... but only briefly. When he turned around to face them again, they saw he was wearing a rather subdued cheese-eating grin. "You've all just said exactly what I was thinking, by the way. I don't really trust him as far as Rue could throw 'im, either! But he *just* might be on the square... so as a precaution, I'm taking the liberty of bringing in a consultant." "HUH?!?" asked the others with a start. "Certainly. I might still be wet behind the ears at this sort of stuff, but Mum and Da did not raise a fool! They also told me, when in doubt, get a consultant." "Big deal. They told Leo and me the same thing," Liz retorted. "What kind of a consultant?" Miranda asked. "What else? A 'Roderick Rat consultant'. Someone who knows him like they know the back of their hand, as it were." Nige looked up, smiling. "And here she comes now. 'Ello, Ruby!" "Hi, guys. What's new?" To quell any lingering suspicion Roddy might have had, Leo offered Ruby his chair, so that the end effect was that the girls were all seated together. Leo and Nige stood around and pretended to look bored; in reality, however, they were as actively involved in the conversation as the others. "Ruby, we need your advice," Liz said, filling Rhubella in on what was happening. "Roddy says he can get us this important date, but we're all a little skeptical..." "A *little*? Heck, we're a LOT skeptical!" Miranda declared. "Roddy? Yeah, I see your point," Ruby acknowledged. "Where is this date supposed to be?" "Some place called the Acme Acres Diamond Club, whatever _that_ is..." Leo said. Ruby's jaw dropped. "Something wrong, Ruby?" "My gosh!" she declared, when she'd picked her jaw up from the floor. "That's only the most exclusive private club in all of Acme Acres!" "Define 'exclusive'," Rue said, leaning her head on her hands and halfway closing one eye. "Only *extremely* rich and powerful people go there! They don't call it the Diamond Club for nothing!" Ruby noted. "But who in the world would Roddy know at _that_ place?" Miranda asked. "Well, this is only a rumor, you understand, nothing substantiated, but I've heard tell that one or two of Perfecto's Board of Regents are card- carrying members," Ruby whispered confidentially. "Of the Communist Party," Leo piped up. "Quiet," Nigel muttered. "You were saying, Ruby?" "It's just possible that after your performance at the Cotillion, maybe Roddy put in a good word for you with them, and they mentioned you to the muckety-mucks up there. It makes sense." "Hold on," Lizzy said. "This *is* Roderick we're talking about?" "Yeah, I know, it surprises me, too. If this _is_ legitimate, you could be talking some *really* big money. On top of that, you may even get discovered!" A large shadow cast itself over the group at the table. It belonged to Harry. "Discovered where?" the big cat inquired. "Mr. P., 'ave you ever heard of the Diamond Club?" Nigel asked. "*Heard* of it? I'm past President of the Boston chapter, my boy!" Harry smiled. "Fine organization. Why do you ask?" "It's possible that the group may have a booking at the Acme Acres chapter," Rhubella said. "Really? Splendid! I'll be sure to drop in," Harry noted, looking over his shoulder to see Regina and Millie engaged in a lively conversation. Every few seconds, they seemed to be pointing at him and laughing. "Well, you will excuse me, but beauty calls... oops!" As he turned to go, he almost tripped over Roberta. "I'm terribly sorry, Roberta..." he apologized. "Buy me a pony and I'll believe you," she smiled. Harry merely chuckled and went on his way. Bobbie sighed. "I've gotta think of better ways to get a pony than that." "So, Sis, how's things at ground level?" Ruby snickered. Bobbie's response was short, and to the point, if not necessarily sweet: pulling on her ears, she poked her tongue out at Ruby. "All right, you made your point... I think. Anything else you wanted, besides practicing blackmail for fun and ponies?" "No, I just wanna meet the rest of the band." "You know, I don't think any of the others have ever met your sister before," RuBarb hinted. "Fair enough," Ruby conceded. "Guys, this is my sister, Roberta." "Hi," they said. After a couple of beats, Bobbie addressed Ruby. "They don't talk much, do they?" A wicked grin appeared on Ruby's face. "Learn from them, Sis. You've already met RuBarb. This is Miranda Mink, that's Lizbeth Carrotte and her brother Lionel..." she said, making the introductions. "And last but not least is their other brother Nigel Carrotte," Rhubella said, introducing the toon in question. Roberta gave him a brief once-over, before turning back to her sister. "He's a rat, Ruby," she observed. "I was adopted," Nigel chuckled. It was his voice, a bit deeper than Lionel's, that caught Bobbie's attention. She looked back at him to find that he had knelt to bring himself down to her eye level. Needless to say, the young rat was a bit startled by both his gallant gesture, and his pleasant features. He offered his hand, which Roberta took, expecting a simple handshake. She did not expect, or could explain, however, the strange shivery tingle that traveled up her arm when he closed his fingers around her small paw, his fingertips roughened by callouses that only an avid guitar player would have. "Oh..." Roberta murmured, unable to think of anything more to say in the face of Nigel's kind, gentle smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Roberta Rat," he said, lifting her hand, and bestowing a kiss, light as a snowflake, on her fingers. For once in her short life, Bobbie was completely speechless, standing there, stunned, gazing blankly into Nigel's eyes, and feeling like she had grabbed a high voltage wire. "Sis? Are you all right?" Ruby giggled. "It's the Carrotte curse, otherwise known as 'The Curse of the Carrottes'!" Nigel stated in an over-the-top performance. "Oh, dash it all, *why* was I born so good-looking?" he moaned. "To make up for your scarcity of brains?" Leo quipped. "*WATCH* it, you!" -0- Nigel had just stepped out back for a breath of fresh air when suddenly, **WHAM!!** The next thing he knew, he was stretched out in the parking lot, flat on his back. "Wha... what was that?" he asked, half-dazed. As he shook the cobwebs off, he looked up to see what it was that had hit him... and stared straight into the face of Roberta, who was sitting on his chest. "Hey, Nige! How's about you and me going to the Weenie Burgers or maybe to see a movie cause I think you're really cute and we could have all kinds a fun together so what do you say but don't answer just yet cuz I gotta go to the BAF-room!" she declared. "*Please* tell me you're kidding," he moaned. "About what?" "That last part..." he added, hopefully. "Well, yeah, kinda," she admitted. "That shtick's wearing a bit thin, anyway." "You'll never know how relie... er... happy I am to hear that," Nigel smiled, correcting himself in mid-sentence. "Would it be all right with you if I got up now?" "Go ahead," Bobbie shrugged. Gingerly, Nigel picked her up and set her down on the ground, then got up and brushed himself off. "Tell you what, Roberta. You wait over there," he said, pointing towards the entrance, "and I'll see if I can clear it with RuBarb, okay?" "W-ell, okay," she said, and stood near the door while Nigel went back inside to try and figure out just how he was going to explain *this* to his sometimes temperamental girlfriend. In the meantime, Bobbie decided it would be fun to hide in the bushes and give Nige a good fright when he came back out, just for kicks. No sooner did she hide, than the door opened, and Bobbo Acme stepped out, followed by Simper, Danforth and... Roddy? This struck Bobbie as weird; she'd thought Roddy and Bobbo couldn't stand each other. At least, that's what Ruby had told her. The loathsome foursome stood right by the bush where Bobbie was hiding. Roberta thought about this for a second, and then decided that she'd best stay hidden. "Well, Roderick, have you been having any luck reeling in the English Suckerfish?" Simper grinned smarmily. "Oh, *can* it, Simper!" Roddy grumbled. "My, my, such impudence," Bobbo chuckled. "Okay, the lowdown, quickly. Someone might be looking..." "I told them if they make me their manager, I can get 'em a booking in the Diamond Club next month," Roddy surreptitiously smirked. Bobbo, Simper, and even Danforth raised some eyebrows at that. "It was all I could think of, all right? Anyway, I think they'll take the bait..." "Oh, that *IS* good!" Bobbo snickered. "Especially as they *are* planning a private party then... One word to the entertainment committee, and they're as good as booked!" "Really?" Roddy was startled. "Hey, I'm better at this than I *thought*!" "Don't kid yourself, Roderick," Bobbo chuckled. "Say, who's the head of the entertainment committee, anyway?" Danforth wondered. "You're speaking to him," Bobbo smirked. "What type of music do they play again, by the way?" "Rock, mainly..." Danforth said. "Oh, what a pity," Bobbo grinned. "So you haven't *told* them we'll be expecting them to play country-western music that night, have you?" Roddy's eyes narrowed viciously. "Should I have?" he cackled. "Not on your life, my boy," Bobbo replied with an evil grin. "From what I gather, these Carrotte clowns wouldn't know a cowboy song if it crawled up their legs and *bit* them!..." -0- "Rue, luv, er..." "Yes, Nigel?" the black kitten smiled sweetly at him. "Well... that is... oh, blast..." "Yes, Nigel?" RuBarb repeated. Nigel could see her smile was growing less pronounced. "I might as well get it over with, mightn't I?" he sighed, assuming a rigid position as he waited for Rue to lose her cool completely and slice him thoroughly again. By now, he'd gotten quite used to it. Closing his eyes - tightly - he said, "RuBarb, I'm very sorry, I know we had plans for this evening, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to put a rain cheque on them." "Oh?" Nigel opened one eye - cautiously - and noticed, to his surprise, that Rue seemed to be taking it rather well. Of course, it could just as easily have been the calm before the storm. "Well, that's fine, Nigel. I gotta study for an exam tonight anyway," she replied pleasantly. "Some other time, then?" "Er, of course, luv..." Nige said, wiping his brow in a gesture of relief, as he turned to go. Rue's voice stopped him in his tracks. "But Nige, as long as you've already told me you changed your plans, could you tell me why?" "Oh, do I *have* to?" "Nigel..." "Oh, very well. You're going to find out anyway. RuBarb... well... another girl has asked me out to the movies tonight, and much against my better judgement, I've accepted." Cringing, he added, "You may slice when ready, Gridley." Rue sat in her chair for a moment in stunned silence. But *only* for a moment. "***WHAT***?!?" she screamed fiercely, her claws coming out with a speed that for a moment, amazed even her. "Who *IS* the little tramp?" "Charlie Chaplin?" Nigel answered weakly. "You know who I mean!! Let me at her!!" she growled, her tail twitching wildly. She was just about to carve Nigel one way and another when Roberta showed up. "Oh, hi, Nigel, I'm ready for our date, I hope we see a *good* movie, nothing like that gosh awful 'Milo and Otis' junk Mom insists on taking me to, and anyway I have something important to tell you, and is Rue gonna slice the bejeezus outta you like I hear she always does, 'cos if she is, I don't think I wanna watch..." Rue stopped in mid-swing, a look of utter stupefaction on her face. Quickly, she retracted her claws before they could do any damage. "Her?" she asked incredulously. "You're going out with *Roberta*?" "Well, not if you're gonna chop him up, I'm not, 'cos Mom won't let me go to the movies by myself..." Rue could only react one way, and so she did. She broke up laughing. "Okay, okay, go, you two, have fun." "You're sure you don't mind?" "Naw, go already! I can't *wait* to hear what all about your... pfft... big date," Rue snickered further. "Hey, be sure to tell me what she thought was so important, will you?" Nigel and Roberta each gave Rue a mock cold shoulder and strutted out of Carrotte's, their noses and tails in the air. Rue took a deep breath, and then continued laughing, as Regina approached her, a curious look on her face. "Something striking you as funny?" "I... I'll explain later, Aunt Reg," her niece replied, wiping a tear from her eyes. "Actually, I was wondering when I'd get around to spending some quality time with you..." "Same here," Regina smiled. Rue couldn't help but notice that it was (as Harry Chapin once put it) a sad smile just the same. "Aunt Regina? Is something wrong?" RuBarb asked, as Reg sat wearily next to her niece. "I wish I could say no, dear," her aunt replied, before proceeding to recap her current dilemma. "I love the restaurant, you understand, but I love your uncle Ambrose even more; and if I had to choose between the two, it'd be no contest. The restaurant would come out the loser," she smiled. Rue could tell that it was a smile borne of total devotion to the cat her aunt loved. She knew that feeling, of course, every time she was with Nigel. "I might as well face the facts, Rue, I can't have it both ways." "So..." "I've made up my mind, dear. I'm going to give my share of Carrotte's back to Lil. I have no choice. I can't be in two places at once..." "Yes, I guess you're..." RuBarb stopped suddenly and snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute! Of course!" "Of course what? I *can* be in two places at once?" "Well, not exactly, Aunt Reg, but it's the next best thing. Come with me," she said, taking her aunt by the hand and leading her outside. "I learned this trick at school. Now, feel around on the ground until you find the backdrop." "The what?" "Trust me on this." "Okay," Reg shrugged, and did as she was told. "I feel kind of silly... hey, wait a minute... I think I _do_ feel something..." Reg firmly grasped the bottom of the backdrop. "What do I do now, yank it like a windowshade?" she giggled. "Precisely," Rue said. "But not until you think about where you want to go, or you'll just end up nowhere." A worried expression crossed Reg's face. "And I'll never get back, is that it?" RuBarb reassured her aunt, "No... it'll just take the search party a little longer to find you, is all. Got all that?" "Oh, all right. Well, I wish I were back at Purrington Manor with Amby..." "Okay, then," Rue nodded. "Think about that, and, to use the vernacular, let 'er fly!" "Very well," Reg said, unsure about this, and gave the backdrop a good swift yank. To her shocked surprise, Acme Acres rolled up with a *fwap*, and there before her stood the palatial home that was Purrington Manor. "My gosh! It really works!" Regina gasped, as the two walked up the inlaid marble steps to the front door. "Every time," Rue smiled, taking her aunt by the hand. "Well, don't just stand there. I want to meet Uncle Ambrose!" They walked through the hallway and into the study, where they saw a tall, thin, white cat sitting in a red leather wing-back chair by the fireplace. His face was gentle, and had a small, kind smile on it as he read, the lamp on his chair-side table providing plenty of light. Regina cleared her throat, causing the fellow to look up, surprised. "Oh, my dear, I thought you were gone for the whole weekend," he uttered in a pleasant tenor. "I was taught something of a toon trick, Amby, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to introduce you to your niece," the petite black feline replied, as she walked over and took her husband's hands in hers. RuBarb could see that despite the difference in age, that they well and truly loved one another. "Rudelle is here? But how?" "That toon trick I told you about, love. Oh, and she goes by 'RuBarb'," Regina chuckled, and Rue padded over to greet the English Shorthair. Ambrose smiled warmly at her, and gently touched her cheek. "You take so much after your aunt, you know," Amby said with a warm smile. -0- "So, Roberta," Nigel asked, as the two settled into their seats for the matinee showing of 'Bugs Bunny, Superstar', "are you comfortable?" "I make a decent living," she deadpanned. "Ouch," Nige winced. "Well, we've got a few minutes before the show starts, so tell me, what was so important?" "Well, if I tell you, you might get upset," Bobbie reasoned, then added, "but here goes..." She then told him what she had witnessed. The albino rat stared at her in disbelief. "Are you *sure*?" "Bobbo, Simper, Danforth and Roddy..." "The whole 'Gang of Four', eh?" Nigel sighed. "Somehow, I just *knew* something was wrong about the whole thing. Did they say anything at all about a booking at the Diamond Club, perchance?" "Oh, yeah. Bobbo says he's the head of the entertainment committee, and they're looking to hire you guys for a party next month..." A weird look came across Nigel's face. "*Really?!?* Roberta, this is _great_!" "Yeah, well, cool your jets, fella. From what I heard, there's a catch." "Ah, I figured there would be with *that* lot. I can't *wait* to hear what it is..." Bobbie then told him what Bobbo had in mind for the Loonies. Slowly, a smile crept across Nigel's features, confusing Roberta. "Are you feeling okay, Nigel?" "Never better, Bobbie," he grinned, as the germ of an idea formed in the back of his mind. "Bobbo and Roddy don't know it yet, but their plan just might backfire on them - big time!" "How?" Roberta asked eagerly as the lights dimmed. "I'll tell you later. Right now, let's watch the movie." "Okay..." -0- "A very good review of Bugs' classic work," Nigel observed as he and Roberta strolled home from the movie and their repast at Weenie Burgers. "The interviews and narration, however, were overly egotistical." "Well, duh, considering the director and producer," Bobbie said, rolling her eyes. "The old guy's put out some good stuff, but he seems to be resting on his laurels." Nigel chuckled. "Astute observation, Bobbie, but it's hardly proper to refer to your future principal as 'the old guy'." "Yeah, whatever," Bobbie replied with a half-shrug. "You're right about the narrator, though. He sounded an awful lot like The Brain." She paused briefly in her critique. "Yanno, I was hoping for something different, t'night." "I s'pose you *could* call Weenie Burgers 'different'. They seem to have taken the culinary arts to an all-time low," Nigel retorted, with a look of disgust on his face. "You could out-cook 'em, huh?" Bobbie asked, disbelievingly. "In my sleep, blindfolded, and with one arm tied behind my back." "You do that for real, and I get dibs on the popcorn concession. Anyway, that wasn't what I was really meaning," Bobbie mused, scuffing a toe. "Oh. You were hoping for something more fitting to an outing with the object of one's infatuation?" Nigel asked, grinning slightly. "Uh... yeah, sorta," Bobbie said reluctantly, blushing slightly. "I was that obvious?" "Just a bit," Nigel chuckled, then smiled gently at the youngster. "It would have never worked out, you know. I'm in a relationship with RuBarb, and it's pretty serious. You saw how jealous she got." "'Jealous' is an understatement." "Ye-es," Nigel laughed. "Just a bit. I love Rue very much, but I don't want to contribute my pelt to her wardrobe, because of a misunderstanding over jealousy." "You... love RuBarb..." Roberta mused. "Well... yes," Nigel said matter-of-factly. "Another factor would be your sister." "Who? Ruby?" "Oh yes. In case you haven't noticed, there's a bit of an age difference between the two of us," the albino uttered using a finger to point to first himself then to Bobbie. "No! Really?" the younger rat responded with a slight smirk. "Really. Now, Ruby trusts me not to take any sort of improper advantage of you," Nigel continued, nonplussed. "And, of course, I won't. For one it would go against my upbringing. For another... Well, I think the world of Rhubella, but she's another person I'd rather not have a Nigel-skin coat." "You're too attached to it yourself, huh?" "That's stating the obvious, Bobbie, but yes," Nigel chuckled. The conversation was interrupted as Ruby pulled up beside them in her Prowler. "And speaking of which, there's the lovely subject of conversation now." "Don't let Roddy hear you talk about me like that," Ruby snickered. "Can I give you a lift?" "Come, now, Rhubella. What would I want with another elevator?" "*Groan*! Just for that, you can walk home." "Sorry, luv. As a matter of fact, we could use a ride... and one other thing." Ruby gave the two rats a caustic glance. "If you think I'm driving the getaway car for your elopement in Kentucky, forget it!" "Don't be silly, Ruby. But I could use your cell phone." "Okay, here you go," she said, handing it to Nigel. "Keep it local." "Of course," Nigel smiled, as he frantically dialed a phone number and waited for the response. "'Ello?" "Ello, Leo? Nige. Get the rest of the Loonies over to the house immediately. I'll explain when we get there..." -0- "You have a lovely rose garden, Uncle Ambrose," Rue said admiringly, as she accompanied her aunt and uncle outside after being given a brief tour of the manor. "Rhonda would be jealous!" "Thank you, my dear. You might say it's #2 on my list of passions in life," he smiled in Reg's direction. "It keeps me out of the pool hall." "Get *him*," Reg chuckled. The beeping of Rue's pager interrupted them. "I forgot I had this with me," she grimaced, giving it a quick glare, and then doing a double take when she recognized the number. "Oops! That's Lionel! Wonder what he wants?" She fished around in her purse for her cell phone. "Excuse me... Leo?" "'Ello, luv," the blonde bunny replied. "Where are you?... *England*?!? You certainly get great reception on that cell phone of yours!" "Our writers have vivid imaginations, what can I tell you?" Rue giggled. "What's up?... What?... *Now?*?!?... But I was just... Oh, all right, Leo, but you tell Nigel that this had better be important!" "From the sound of 'im, I'd say it was, Rue. See ya. Bye." "Bye," she replied half-heartedly, hanging up the phone. "Well, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this visit short, folks." "Oh, dear, what are the boys up to now?" Ambrose smiled knowingly. "How did you...?" "When I heard you mention Leo *and* Nigel, it wasn't that difficult, my dear," Amby replied with a wink. Bidding their goodbyes for the moment, Rue and Reg pulled down the Acme Acres backdrop and returned to the Carrotte estate. "I can't believe it's that easy," Reg remarked. "Oh, you'd be surprised at how simple some of this toon stuff gets to be after awhile." "Nothing much surprises me after that, dear," Reg admitted. "Oh, and thank you." "You're welcome... er, for what?" "I think you just solved my problem for me..." -0- "Nigel, I thought rehearsal wasn't 'till *tomorrow* night," RuBarb said, slightly confused, as the Bloomin' Loonies gathered in the den, Roberta and Ruby in their midst. "It isn't," Nigel replied. "Consider this an emergency meeting." "Emergency, huh?" Miranda scrunched her face. "Sounds serious." "Slightly, yes, but not very," the rat reassured her. "Pray, would this explain why we're meeting here and not in the rehearsal room?" Lizbeth asked. Nigel nodded silently. "Why'd you ask Bobbie and I here?" Ruby wondered. "Well, as our unofficial 'consultant', we thought you'd like to hear this," Nigel smiled. "And as for your charming sister, you could say she's the reason for this meeting in the first place." "Bobbie 'charming'? Man, you *really* oughta get out more, Nigel!" Ruby chuckled. "Okay, so what's so important that you had to drag me away from uncle Ambrose?" RuBarb queried. "Is *that* where you were?!?" Nigel asked, startled. "Well, to use a worn-out cliché, I have some good news and... oh, you know the rest. Which would you rather hear first?" "Oh, the good news, definitely," Miranda nodded. "All right. Apparently that Diamond Club gig is legitimate," Nigel said. Various sounds of self-congratulation from the other Loonies filled the room, but stopped as soon as the rest of the band saw the looks on Nigel and Bobbie's faces. "And now, the bad news," the albino rat declared, to utter silence. "Bobbie, tell them what you told me earlier." "Okay," she sighed heavily. "Guys, the gig is part of a plot to make you look stupid." "By *whom*?" RuBarb asked suspiciously. Bobbie gulped, and dropped the bomb. "Bobbo Acme... and Roderick." "WHAT?!?" screeched Ruby. "Sis, if this is your idea of a joke..." "Oh, it's no joke," Nigel assured her. "She overheard them discussing it in the Carrotte's parking lot." "So what do we do now?" Leo asked, fuming quietly. "I said this was slightly serious, but not very. The gig is genuine enough, but... well, this is why I called you all here." Nigel rose from the chair he'd been sitting in and walked purposefully to a nearby wall cabinet; and opening the door, reached in and grabbed a handful of items, which he then placed upon the coffee table. "This is the sort of stuff they'll be expecting us to sing." Rue took one look at the assorted albums and CDs, looked at Nigel, and muttered flatly, "You... have... got... to... be... kidding." "Not a fan, eh?" "Not even remotely," she growled. "Hey, wait a minute!" Miranda said, sorting through the CDs, and being delightfully surprised at what she saw. "Riders In The Sky? Asleep At The Wheel? Foster & Lloyd? Kentucky HeadHunters? Georgia Satellites? The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band? The Tractors? Southern Pacific? Joe Ely?" "Something wrong, Miranda?" "Wrong? Are you kidding? Where's Diamond Rio and Alan Jackson and Brooks & Dunn and Reba and Garth and *that* crowd?" "Oh, Mink," Rue moaned. "Don't tell me you *like* that stuff!" Miranda grinned. "Who *said* I did? I'm just noticing that they're kinda conspicuous by their absence!" "Blame that on our dear, sweet mother," Lizbeth smiled. "It seems she developed an ability in her younger days to separate the wheat from the chaff, musically speaking." "And you lot sort of inherited it." "Oh! 'Ello, Mum," Nigel said. "Hello, son," Lillian smiled, as she, Regina and Rhonda entered the den. "Raiding my music collection again, are you?" "Something like that. Don't worry, we're not going to have any ninja battles with 'em this time." "More's the pity," muttered Rue. "Now, Rue, give me _some_ credit," Lillian admonished the kitten. "It just happens that I like my music like I like my menu." "Oh? How so?" Lillian grinned wickedly. "No tripe." This caused Rue to lose it. "Okay, okay, I'll give 'em a chance," she surrendered, laughing. "That's all I can ask for," Nigel smirked, as he popped a Joe Ely CD into the player and cued up "Settle For Love". "They're expecting us to play country music, because they think we don't know any. However, they don't know we grew up listening to this stuff, so it's practically second nature to us... and they _won't_ be expecting *this*..." As Joe started to sing 'You say you want drama?/I'll give you drama...**', Rue's jaw dropped. Clearly, *she* wasn't expecting *this*, either. After a few more samples, Rue was, if not converted, at least becoming interested. "Now, we practically have it all memorised," Liz added, "so I suspect practice for the next few days will more or less be listening sessions so Rue and Miranda can get acquainted with the material, right, Nige?" "In a nutshell, Sis." He looked around the room. "Oh, one more thing... we can't let on that we know what Roddy and Bobbo are up to. It'd ruin the overall effect." The second Nigel said 'overall', of course, Rue immediately misinterpreted it. "Please, *tell* me we're not gonna have to dress up like 'Hee-Haw' rejects!" she wailed. "I was just getting used to this music!" "That isn't quite what I meant. Obviously, Rue, you have been frightened by overexposure to one too many 'Star Routes' in your time," Nigel grinned, making a blatant reference to an old TV show of the 50s and 60s. "And in your case, I'd say 'one' was one too many!" "How did you guess?" RuBarb asked in astonishment. "It wasn't difficult." Turning his gaze to the mink, he asked, "Miranda, can you still do your spin changes?" "I think so. Lemme check." She immediately spun into her scant 'Letter V' outfit. Leo's eyes glazed over and his tongue immediately rolled out of his mouth, coming to parade rest at Roberta's feet. "Euggh," Bobbie said unemotionally. "Yep. No problem," Miranda replied, spinning back into her regular outfit. "Good. Can you teach the rest of us how to do that?" Nigel inquired. "W-ell, I could, but you and Leo would look awfully silly," Miranda giggled. "Why?" "Let's just say that knowledge will come in handy around showtime," Nigel replied. "Speaking of knowledge coming in handy and all that," Reg asked, "does anybody here know anything about real estate?" "Well, my mom used to before her realty company folded," Ruby noted. "Why?" "I had my eye on a piece of property as I was coming over here," Regina answered, describing the location. Ruby and Rhonda responded by looking at her in disbelief. "Er, something wrong?" "I think I know the property you have in mind, Lady Purrington," Rhonda said hesitantly. "Trust me, the owner would never sell, and even if he did, he'd want an enormous sum for it." "Let me worry about that, Ronnie," Regina smiled. "Where can I find him?" "Oh, I can show you," Ruby said. "His is the biggest mansion in all of Acme Acres. His name's Montana Max..." -0- "MON-ey!" sang the doorbell, pleasantly. "All right, I'm comin', I'm comin'!" shouted the response, not so pleasantly. The response, of course, was shouted by one Montana Max, who threw open the front door of his mansion to be greeted by a sight even he could not ignore: a petite, pretty black cat in a smart green travel suit. "Would you happen to be Montana Max?" Reggie asked sweetly. "Sorry, lady, the exterminators were already here," he snapped, and almost shut the door on her. Almost, but not quite; with a quickness that had to be seen to be believed, Reg threw her full weight into her right paw and slammed the door right back open, narrowly missing Max by an inch! "HEY!" "Terribly sorry, but I would like to speak to you, although I can't begin to understand why..." "Look, lemme save ya some time, alright? Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying..." "No, no, you misunderstand. *I'm* the one doing the buying." Max quickly came to the notion he had misjudged the feline on first glance. "Go on..." "I'm told you have that small undeveloped bit of land about half a mile west of here, am I right?" Max had to stop and figure out just which bit of real estate she was referring to; he owned so many. Finally it came to him. "You mean just over that way? *That* eyesore?" he asked, pointing in the right direction. Reg nodded. "Yeah, what about it?" "How much?" "Hate to disappoint you, lady, but you couldn't afford it." Reg merely smiled her cattiest smile, opened her purse, and pulled out a gigantic wad of bills. "Oh, I believe otherwise, young man. I'm afraid all I have on me are British Pound notes," she said hesitantly, waving them slowly in front of his face. "That's okay," Max said quickly, "I take all major currencies!" "I'm sure," Reg said pointedly. "Do we have a deal, then?" "Oh, yeah, yeah, sure, sure," he replied, handing her the deed and taking the money from her in one fell swoop. "Here you go. You can fill in the blanks yourself. Enjoy your dirt." "Um... yes. I will," Reg smiled benignly, taking her leave of Monty and heading back towards the Prowler parked near the curb, where Ruby and Sir Rupert were waiting for her. "So, I take it the transaction went well, Regina?" "I think so, Rhubella. It'll be worth whatever I paid that horrid little monster," she noted with a touch of vinegar, handing Sir Rupert the deed. "Let me guess," he noted disdainfully. "You fill in the blanks yourself later, is that it?" Reg nodded. "Yes, well, everything looks to be in order here, Regina," he noted cautiously, "but I'll have my lawyers go over it just in case. Shouldn't take long. So, where to next?" "My little patch of land," she replied. "I have just one more piece of business to take care of..." -0- "Yes, this will be perfect," Reg noted with satisfaction. By this time, the rest of the Carrottes had joined her, after Sir Rupert had given her the 'all clear' from his attorneys. "This is a *little* patch of land?" Lillian asked with amusement. "All right, maybe that was an understatement," Reg shrugged. "May be," Lillian giggled. "So, 'Auntie' Reg," Lizbeth asked, "what are you going to do with this property?" "Move here, of course," she replied. "But... there's nothing here," Leo protested. "Hold your horses, Lionel," Reg smiled. "Ready, RuBarb?" "Anytime," Rue answered. "All right... stand well back, all of you," Reg advised, grabbing hold of the bottom. "Here we go." And with a quick yank, the scenery rolled up as usual, revealing the sight of Purrington Manor once more. "Oh, my dear, are you back again?" Ambrose smiled. "You're not having much of a vacation, are you?" "Vacation's over, Amby," she smiled back. "Get your passport. It's moving day!" "Another toon trick?" he chuckled. "Something like that, Uncle Amby," Rue said, moving to the farthest west boundary of the grounds, while Reg did the same on the east. (Amby knew enough to take this as his cue to join the others, which he did.) Nodding to each other, they unsheathed their claws, took a running jump at the scenery, landed high above the top of the manor, sunk their claws into the backdrop and slowly slid down, making perfect cuts in the scenery as they did so. "Okay, that's two down," Rue noted. "Now for one across." Taking another running jump, the two black cats landed with precision at their original starting points, this time carefully slicing their way across towards each other with one paw, while making sure to grab on to the scenery with the other. Before everyone's eyes, Purrington Manor fell to the ground like a sheet. Climbing down the rest of the scenery again, the cats carefully rolled the manor up and maneuvered it to the feet of the waiting Carrottes. All that was left of their handiwork was a vacant lot! Quickly, Reg pulled a "For Sale" sign from behind her back and stuck it in the middle. Then, they joined the rest of the group in Acme Acres. Grabbing the bottom of the backdrop once more, Reg gave it another smart tug, revealing the rest of Acme Acres. And finally, as if waving a bedsheet, she and Rue grabbed the bottom edge of the freshly cut scenery, unrolled it and watched as it stood upright all by itself, exactly where Reg wanted it! "Perfect!" declared Reg. "Amby, dear, what do you think?" Ambrose studied the new location cautiously before speaking. "This... this isn't like that old Python bit where the buildings stay up only as long as you *believe* they will, is it?" "No, Uncle Ambrose," Rue reassured him with a laugh. "Once these things go up, they *stay* up!" -0- The remaining days were divided between the Loonies rehearsing for the concert and helping Uncle Ambrose get acclimated to his new surroundings. Both proved to be easier than the Carrottes thought. Miranda and Rue were quick studies (the mink's surprising encyclopedic musical knowledge extending to the country-rock genre, and Rue finding a lot of the stuff to her liking as well); and as for Ambrose, the change in climate seemed to be doing both his health and his sense of humor a world of good. Still, Nigel seemed to be worried about something as the big night approached, so he and the Loonies took one last opportunity during Lunch hour the Friday before to iron out details with their "consultant". "All right, guys, what's up?" Rhubella asked. "Well, actually, Ruby, we're wondering if we haven't gone and made a bloody big mistake letting Roddy be our manager," Nigel began. "I thought this was just going to be a verbal agreement, one time only thing," Ruby replied. "Wasn't it?" "That's wot I thought, too, but then he comes up with this big hurkin' contract," Nigel said, pulling said contract from the inside of his jersey and handing it to Ruby. She gave it as thorough a going-over as she could. "Hm. W-ellll... it sure *looks* all right, from a standard management contract view," she shrugged. "The design's a little horrible, but that could just be Roddy showing off." "You mean 'Roddy being Roddy', don't you?" Miranda asked. "Same thing, shortbread," Ruby giggled, before turning her attention back to the contract. "Lessee... party of the first part... ten percent... yadayadayada..." She stopped when she got to the bottom. "Oh! I see you signed it already, Nige..." "Well, I didn't have time to consult with Mum and Da about it, wot with schoolwork and rehearsals and all, y'know?" Nigel explained. "Besides, I've been through this contract stuff before when I was managing the band. They've all been one-time only things. This one's no different." Ruby studied it quickly once more. "Hm... looks like you're right, Nige. Well, as long as it's just for this one gig, there doesn't seem to be a problem with it. Just be glad it's not a long term arrangement." "Thanks for the advice, Ruby," Lizzy said. "Hey, what are consultants for?" Ruby smiled. "Anything else?" "Well, yeah," RuBarb said uneasily. "Once this gig is overwith, does this mean you'll stop being our consultant?" "Are you kidding?" Ruby whispered conspiratorially. "*Somebody's* gotta protect you from Roddy! Just have a good gig, guys!" -0- As the Loonies were going through their last minute soundcheck at the Diamond Club, Roderick was in another part of the building, discussing some last minute things of his own with Bobbo, Danforth and Simper. "So I take it he signed it?" Bobbo asked with a malicious grin. "Like a money order," Roddy grinned back. "Thanks for the 'design suggestions', by the way, heh heh heh..." "Don't mention it, my boy," Bobbo said. "They don't even know they've been had yet..." "And by the time they find out, it'll be too late!" Roddy cackled. "Drake, how's it look out there?" "The place is packed, Roddy," Danforth answered. "I almost feel sorry for those poor twerps..." "Tell me you're kidding..." yawned Simper. "Of *course* I am," Danforth snorted, and the Gang of Four laughed as one at the expense of the Bloomin' Loonies, whose public humiliation was surely just a few minutes away. In the meantime, Rhonda, Reggie, Ambrose, Lillian and Rupert were finding admittance to be less than easy. "I say, this is most infuriating," Rupert grumbled. "Exactly the sort of exclusivity I rebelled against!" A large shadow cast itself across his features as he spoke. "That's some special effect," Rhonda noted. Reggie giggled and pointed to the source of the shadow. "Special effects nothing, Ronnie. 'Ello, little brother," she said, as they were joined by Harry and Millie. "Trouble getting inside?" Harry asked calmly. "You might say that," Ronnie fumed. "Same old story. You either have to be a member or a guest of a member..." "To get inside. Ah, yes, I'm well aware of the rules, my dear," Harry smiled. "Allow me, please..." He strolled up to the person in charge of admitting guests, an officious looking fellow who recited the rules by rote, but stopped short when Harry flashed his Boston Chapter President's Card in his face. "Um... p-party of seven, is that?" "Of course," Harry replied cordially, motioning for the others to join him. As they were shown to a table, Millie tugged at her husband's sleeve. "Is this the part where you say rank has its privileges or something?" "Or something," Harry acknowledged as the house lights dimmed and the bandstand was illuminated, revealing the Bloomin' Loonies in casual street attire. Distant mumbling could be heard throughout the audience. "This doesn't look good," Harry noted. Nigel, however, played it cool, surreptitiously winking at the rest of the band and hoping Miranda's quick tutoring would pay off. As one, the group executed a perfect spin-change into matching outfits that would have made the legendary Nashville outfitter Nudie turn in his thimble (were he still around, that is). In an instant, they quickly took their places behind their instruments and, to use an old showbiz expression, knocked the audience's socks off, mixing musical styles like a jukebox gone mad while sticking as close to the country theme as possible (no mean feat, that). From their vantage point, Roddy and Bobbo could only watch and fume angrily (especially when the Loonies surprised everyone with a beautifully rendered a capella Sons of the Pioneers medley). "Well," Bobbo seethed accusingly, "somebody's been had, all right, and it wasn't *them*..." "Hey, don't look at *me*, Bobbo," Roddy seethed back. "*I* didn't know they could play this stuff!" He paused only briefly. "Although I gotta admit, they *are* good..." "Oh, shut up!" Bobbo snapped... -0- When the show was finally over, and the receipts were added up, Bobbo was surprised to learn that the club had turned in its biggest night ever, from a profit standpoint. As for the Loonies (who became the delighted recipients of a portion of that largesse in the form of an added bonus), they suddenly found themselves swamped with more offers than they could handle! "So, Nigel," Lizbeth asked, "now what?" "Well, as much as I hate to admit it, none o' this would've happened without Roderick..." "True," Miranda grimaced. "Nigel," Leo said, uncertainly, "you aren't *seriously* thinking of making him our long-term manager, are you?" "Why not? 'E can't do any worse than I have, and besides, we 'ave our 'secret weapon', right?" he smiled, secretly nodding in Ruby's direction. "As she put it, 'Somebody's gotta protect us from Roddy'..." And as for Roddy, he was in conference with Danforth. "So, Roddy, I guess this puts a crimp in your plans, eh?" "Far from it, Drake, far from it," he snickered. "As a matter of fact, these Carrottes are playing right into my hands. I think I'm gonna *like* this managing racket, heh heh heh..." -0- FIN. For now, at last... ;D =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Copyright © November 19, 2001 by Jennifer Cleckley and Jerry D. Withers. All Rights Reserved. All TINY TOON ADVENTURES characters ©2001 Warner Bros. Animation, Inc./Amblin Entertainment, Inc., used without permission, but with a whole lotta love, respect, and stuff like that there. The same goes for all LOONEY TUNES characters, © 2001 Warner Bros. Animation. The following characters are original, owned by their respective creators: Nigel, Lionel, Lizbeth, Rupert and Lillian Carrotte, Lady Regina and Lord Ambrose Smythe Purrington: © Jennifer Cleckley. Harry, RuBarb and Millie Purrenstein, Rhonda and Roberta Rat and Simper: © Jerry D. Withers. Miranda Mink: © Jerry D. Withers from an idea by Zachary A. Zulkowski. Adam Fox: © Eric Richardson, used by permission. The following lyrics were used without permission: *-"EVERYONE'S GONE TO THE MOON" written by Jonathan King © & (P)1965 Marquis Music Ltd. (PRS). Originally recorded by Jonathan King on Decca Records (UK)/Parrot Records (US). **-"SETTLE FOR LOVE" written by Joe Ely © & (P) Eiffel Tower Music (BMI). Originally recorded by Joe Ely on the Hightone Records album "Dig All Night." This storyline concludes in "Akron Part II", coming soon to a computer monitor near you! TTFN! THE BLOOMIN' LOONIES is a ROTTIN-FURR Production. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=