A Tiny Toons Christmas Carol


By Abel DuSable
dusable@escape.ca



				PROLOGUE:
	It was the day before Christmas in Acme Acres, a traditional time for last minute shopping and final holiday preparations but Montana Max was overseeing 
preparations of a different kind. 
	On the edge of the Looniversity campus was the Schlesinger gym, and despite it's stoic façade the interior was a literal madhouse of activity as workers rushed to finish their work. Monty checked off the items on the list as they were completed. The thirty foot chrome and neon monstrosity he called a Christmas tree had it's final bolts tightened and lit up like a beacon amongst the dozens of other garish decorations. It had cost him quite the bundle but in his own little twisted world it and everything else was worth every penny... including the double overtime he had to pay the workers to have everything ready by tonight. 
	"Hurry it up you clowns! I told you I wanted this done by 6:45, it's 5:21 right now." He yelled out at everyone in earshot.
	Of course nobody responded verbally, (a few gave a digital reply in his direction) and perhaps even worked a little harder wanting to go home for Christmas. Even the roadies seemed to be inspired a little as they put the finishing touches on the stage that covered the back wall of the gym.
	Monty was in a good mood though. Tonight would be his night and at long last he would finally show those loser toons what he could really do when he put his mind to it. This was going to be a party nobody would forget.
	With that thought, Montana Max smiled... and if there was ever such a thing as a mile-wide smile, he was wearing one as if he owned it.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	"Buster Bunny! Hurry it up in there!" Shouted Babs Bunny (no relation) through the intervening Bedroom door. "We have ten minutes before Monty's party begins."
	"Just a second!" called Buster with a bit of strain in his voice. "I'm just having some trouble with the zipper"
	"Zipper?"
	The door opened wide and Babs' blue bunny beau stood before her in a cherry red suit with a bright green tie. She stood there staring at the proud lagomorph before she snickered.
	"You look... very... (Giggle) seasonal."
	"Thank you Babs."
	"Just one question."
	"Fire away." 
	"Why are you wearing pants?"
	Buster looked down at the bright red pants that matched the jacket before answering Babs.
	"They came with the jacket... they feel kinda weird but my legs have never felt warmer."
	"Considering you usually don't wear any pants at all I'm not surprised your legs are warm."
	"So, you have no problems with my choice in clothing?"
	"Why should I, -YOU'RE- the one who's going to be wearing them, not me. Now com'on... we have to be at the Schlesinger gym by seven. If Monty's in the mood to throw a party for every toon in the school *AND* foot the bill I want to get a good place to stand and heckle him."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#
	
	Almost every toon that attended the Looniversity stood outside of the Schlesinger Gym patiently waiting for the doors to open when the tower bell chimed, in it's seldom heard reverberating peals.
	Bonnng...
	Bonnng...
	Bonnng...
	Bonnng...
	Bonnng...
	Bonnng...
	Bonnng...
	Instinctively everyone turned to look at Gogo Dodo, who was in the middle of pitching woo to a mailbox, when he realized he was being watched. He looked at everyone looking at him, and they looked at him looking at them. Finally he sighed and gave in.
	"Coo Coo! Coo Coo!  Making me do this on my day off is downright Coo Coo!" He chimed halfheartedly before turning back to his 'date'.
	The doors to the gym opened wide to reveal Monty in a well tailored Armani Santa Suit laughing loud and long in exaggerated Santa style.
	"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas to one and all! Ho! Ho! Ho!"
	"It's Monty Claus!", someone shouted as Monty stepped up on a small pedestal to address the group.
	"My fellow students, I know that during the rest of the year I'm a royal pain in the butt to you all. I flaunt my wealth to those I consider to be the have-nots of our society but this is Christmas. Tonight, is a time when... one should be willing to share their wealth with those... less fortunate. I'll be honest, life has been kinder to me in the money department than it has been to all of you put together... So tonight, in the spirit of the season, let us eat, drink and be merry... at my expense!"
	The crowd cheered at Monty's little speech, as well they should. He certainly paid that speechwriter enough to make something that sounded sincere. Those few words cost him a pretty penny but once again he felt they were worth it. They now saw him as an Ebeneezer Scrooge making an attempt to get the spirit. No matter what happened tonight they wouldn't blame him, directly. However, there was one last thing he needed to do before his scheme swung into high gear.
	"Now, I have gifts for everyone here so please line up and I'll hand them to each of you as you enter, oh... and for those of you who brought gifts for the big midnight exchange just place them under the tree."
	Everyone eagerly lined up in one long row and filed through the door as Monty handed each one a red and green envelope said the same thing:
	"May your days be merry and bright." while mentally tacking the word 'Sucker' onto each one.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Fifi wandered the streets of Acme Acres aimlessly. It is said that Christmas is a time for family and friends and she had neither right now. 
	It had been her plans for the holidays to fly to her father's vineyard in France to spend Noël with him and her sisters, however weather conditions in Europe would not permit it. A blizzard was currently preventing any flights directly into the country and several ice storms throughout Europe had disintegrated the mere concept of landing in one of the surrounding countries and going the rest of the way by automobile. 
	Fifi was stranded in America.
	This in itself wasn't a bad thing, but it had always been a tradition in her family for everyone to be home for the holidays and it hurt her to be separated by so much... distance. 
	She knew if she could find her friends that they would cheer her up, if only a little bit but she couldn't find them anywhere. Every one of her friends' homes were quiet and dark. Babs. Buster, Shirley, Plucky... and even her EX-boyfriend Hampton were nowhere to be found. 
	So, Fifi wandered the quiet streets of Acme Acres, on Christmas eve with only a heavy heart to keep her company. She paused a moment to wrap her muffler about her again, more for the comfort than the warmth when she looked up and found herself in front of Momma Al's diner. 
	Momma Al's Diner was a little greasy spoon not too far away from the Looniversity. It had a few booths and some stools at the counter like any other prototypical diner but despite it's closeness to Acme Loo, it was mostly overlooked by the students in favor of the local Weenie Burger outlet. Right now it had two things that made it appealing to the French Skunkette. 
	One, it was perhaps the only thing in all of Acme Acres open on Christmas eve... Two, she could make out a familiar face in a booth by the window. Granted, she only knew Calamity Coyote from their work together and the few classes they shared, and perhaps he was not the greatest conversationalist around but as the Americans say... "Any port in a storm".

	Fifi let herself into the diner and after giving a timid nod to the massive hulk of a woman that was known as Momma Al, quietly walked over to the the young coyote and cleared her throat.
	"Ahem"
	Calamity quickly closed his drawing pad and looked up at Fifi with a set of eyes, filled to the eyelashes with surprise. She smiled at him and motioned to the mostly empty booth.
	"Excuse moi, monsieur coyote, is this seat taken?"
	Calamity immediately looked at all of the other booths and stools in the eatery and after ascertaining that there was only Fifi, Momma Al and himself in the diner flashed Fifi a puzzled look.
	"I... just need a little company right now, monsieur Coyote. I hope you do not mind..."
	A ripple of understanding altered Calamity's features and he smiled up at her.
	"By all means, Fifi..." He said with a note of compassion to his voice. "Your company would be most welcome."
	Fifi just stared at him.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	"This concludes our programming day, so on behalf of myself and everyone else here at K-ACME TV have a Merry Christmas."
Mary Melody watched the image of herself on the TV screen smile at her and become the station logo accompanied by the national anthem. She sighed and switched the TV off just as it reached "The Rockets' red glare" and stood there in her apartment in the warm glow of the Christmas tree.
	"Merry Christmas, Mary Melody." She said to no one in particular.
	It looked like it would be another lonely Christmas for the Melody family. Both of her parents were doctors and usually found themselves on call during the holidays and although they loved her very much never seemed to have the time. 	Perhaps that was why she had so many extra curricular activities. She was on every committee and in most of the clubs, not to mention the anchorwoman at the local Television station. She had admitted to herself a long time ago that it was so that she didn't have to return to an empty home for longer than she had to.
	Mary once again glanced down at the invitation to Monty's party and considered the idea of going, but then decided against it. She just wasn't in the mood for it.
	She opened the door to the snow-covered balcony and stepped out into the cold nighttime air and listened to the sounds of Christmas in acme acres. The wind, the far off peal of church bells, the occasional snippet of party sounds from one of the other apartments in the building and...
	Mary paused, uncertain of what it was she was hearing. Somewhere out there she could have sworn she heard... a violin. 
	There it was again, every once in a while the wind would shift just enough that she could hear it again. The unmistakable, soulful sound of a violin. 
	As she focused more and more on the drawn out strings on the winter air she found herself pulled to it. Something in the notes seemed to convey sadness, a sadness much like the one she was feeling right now. It was almost as if the violinist was playing for her benefit alone.
	Ducking back into her apartment to don her winter boots and parka she hastily scribbled a note to her parents and took the elevator to the lobby. The doorman let her out onto the quiet streets where she paused only long enough to catch the direction of the music before chasing after it. 
	Street after empty Street passed by her as she followed the phantom strings, unwilling to relent until she found it's source. The music grew clearer and more complete, she knew she was getting closer. She could have sworn it would be just around the next corner and when it wasn't... it had to be the next then the next then the next...
	Just as she began to think it was a futile task she exited an alleyway and there... across the street was the violinist. 
	Dressed in a horsehair coat that had seen far better days, a pair of fingerless gloves and a ratty old scarf was Furrball. Perhaps a little bluer than usual from standing ankle deep in the snow but there was no mistake it was his playing that had called her. In his hands was an old violin. Like it's owner, it seemed tired and second hand but in spite of their appearances musician and instrument brought forth melodies that made Mary forget that she was out in the cold and each note pulled tears from her very heart to freeze upon her cheeks.
	She didn't know how much time had passed but it was only when the tune ended that she found herself applauding the young feline and he suddenly became aware of her presence on the empty street. He looked at her awkwardly before taking a bow.
	"That was beautiful Furrball." She said closing the distance between them. "I knew you could play a little, but I never knew... Where did you learn to play like that?"
	Furrball opened his mouth to speak when all that came forth was his usual rusty "Meow"
	"Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot you can't talk. That was very... I mean... sorry."
	Furrball smiled at the blushing toon. Giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder placed his Violin back into it's case, carefully reached into his coat and drew a very strange object out of it's folds.
	"Oh my gosh... that's... that's a..."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	"A Voicebox?" 
	Fifi stared at the metal box that Calamity held before her eyes. It couldn't have been more than six inches wide, four inches deep and four tall. The box was made of unpolished steel and if it weren't for the WB logo where the lock would have been it was perfectly unspectacular to her.
	"You see, Fifi. When a toon is offered a job that requires him to be... mute the studio usually will give him, or her, a customized Voicebox to safeguard their voice during the recording sessions. Many toons still use them. I have it on good authority that Wile E. Coyote still has his first one."
	"But your voice..."
	"I know I don't use it much but I guess I just got used to being a silent minority."
	"I suppose one can get used to not talking but what I meant was, ze way you sound."
	"What about that way my voice sounds?"
	"You sound... normal."
	"Normal?"
	"Ze way you talk you sound like... like... Dylan McDermott instead of... of..."
	"...instead of Alan Rickman?"
	"Oui! You don't have ze same... accent to your voice as Professeur Coyote."
	"Heh, Just because he sounds like Kelsey Grammar doesn't mean I have to adopt an accent like his. If Professor LePew started talking with an Italian accent would you model your voice to match?"
	"Sacre bleu! I have enough trouble with mon Anglais without such a problem arising."
	"An excellent point Fifi. Of course since WB has me effectively 'muzzled' it is not an issue I worry about. Being honest, there have been times I've blessed this little cold lump of metal. Times when I might have said things onscreen that I... I *KNOW* I'd have regretted."
	"What sort of things, and when?"
	Calamity averted his gaze from Fifi and fiddled with the box.
	"Just... things, that nobody has the right to say to another person, even if the situation was a bit on the extreme side."
	Fifi's hand rose up and covered her mouth as she realized just what Calamity was talking about.
	"You are speaking of..."
	"It was some time ago and I was unprepared for that encounter, let's just leave it at that."
	"D'accord. Still, if what you say is true..."
	"Yes... but now that I know you better I'm glad I was muzzled."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Furrball held the voicebox out at arm's length from him and pressed the WB latch upon the front with his thumbs. A soft click came from the polished wooden box as it unlatched, then a faint creek followed as the lid swung wide revealing a silver ball of sparkly light within.
	Mary could only watch in awe as the ball rose slowly into the air before the blue cat leaving a faint 'pixie-dust' trail where it passed. She had heard of Voiceboxes, powerful toon artifacts that housed voices when one was not needed or wanted. She just never knew she'd ever get to see one in person.
 	The only example she ever saw of these mysterious bits of toon legend was as a plot device in Disney's 'The Little Mermaid' and that was rumored to be a mere special effect while the real one was in a studio vault someplace.
	The ball circled Furrball a few times, then circled her a few times leaving a warm, tingly feeling, similar to wearing a static-filled sweater fresh from the drier, before it rose above the two toons. It hovered above them like a baby star seeking a place in the firmament, then... with the speed of a runaway comet hurtled itself at the alleycat striking him right in the throat, sending him sprawling into the fluffy layer of snow that covered the street. 
For a few brief moments Mary was too shocked to do anything, then as Furrball forced himself to stand on his unsteady feet did Mary remember herself enough to call out to him.
	"Are you all right?"
	Furrball turned to Mary and flashed her a toothy grin.
	"Yes... but if you think getting your voice back is painful, you should see what I have to go through to have it removed."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Meanwhile at Monty's party, lights flashed, bodies danced and the music blasted away at everyone at bone-shaking levels. People had to shout to be heard, including Buster and Babs who watched the other toons dancing away in the over-decorated gymnasium from the relative safety of the refreshment table.
	"MONTY SURE WENT ALL OUT, DIDN'T HE?" shouted Babs surveying all of the tacky Christmas paraphernalia. 
	"LOOKS LIKE EVERY KID IN ACME ACRES IS HERE." Buster shouted back before downing a glass of eggnog. 
	"WHAT THE... I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Babs stared over Buster's shoulder. "IT'S VINNIE!"
	"WHAT'S SO HARD TO BELIEVE BABS? HE'S AS ENTITLED TO COME AS WE ARE."
	"WHAT I MEAN IS, YOU REALLY HAVE TO SEE HIM."
	Buster sighed and turned around and was totally unprepared for what the sight before him.
	Vinnie was dressed in a bright red leather harness covered in golden bells that jingled with every motion he made, An obvious reference to Santa's Team of Reindeer. It was more than what he usually wore and hardly risqué at all but what was really catching the attention of everyone on the floor was the two girls he had hanging off of him. They weren't just *ANY* girls, on his left arm was Binky Bunny, on the right was Bimbette.
	Both femmes were clad in green dresses that were obviously meant to be those that elves wear... only they neglected to realize that Elves were somewhat smaller than they were. As a result, the unusually short and snug costumes caused no less than six male toons to suffer mild heart attacks when they strode past. 
Buster struggled not to stare when the trio walked up to he and Babs.
	"BUSTER, MY MAIN MAMMAL! HOW ARE YOU?"
	"I'M UHHH... DOING FINE."
	"HELLO BABS, YOU'RE LOOKING POSITIVELY... RAVISHING THIS EVENING."
	"UH... THANKS. YOU LOOK LIKE YOU HAVE YOUR HANDS FULL TONIGHT, VINNIE."
	"OH, HOW RUDE OF ME. I'D LIKE YOU TWO TO MEET MY DATES FOR THIS EVENING BUSTER, BABS, THESE ARE BINKY AND BIMBETTE. BIMBETTE, BINKY THESE ARE BABS AND BUSTER BUNNY..."
	"...NO RELATION." the duo chorused from the gag reflex.
	Binky's brow furrowed as she and Bimbette gently shook Buster and Babs' hands.
	"IS, IS THAT A JOKE? THAT'S A JOKE RIGHT? I DON'T GET IT. THAT WAS A JOKE? RIGHT?"
	Buster could only stifle a moan while Babs' jaw dropped, as if it were spring-loaded.
	"Well, I can see Binky hasn't changed a bit." he thought.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#
	
	"So what brought you to my little hideaway, Fifi?"
	"My Christmas plans to return to France were ruined so I tried to find my friends. Ze only problem is zat I cannot find hide or hair of ze hares... or anyone else anywhere for zat matter. Quelle dommage."
	"The others are probably at Max's party." Calamity mused as he sipped at his coffee.
	"Zere's a party?"
	"Yeah, Max said it was to show all the rest of us how the 'other half lives'. Virtually everyone got an invite."
	"-I- didn't get an invitation." Cried Fifi feeling more hurt than ever. "Why wasn't I given an invitation?"
	Calamity paused a moment, allowing his train of thought to travel deep into the recesses of his reason center before looking into the eyes of the purple skunk sitting across from him.
	"Your trip to France, was that common knowledge?"
	"I don't sink so. I told Babs and Shirlee about it but no one else."
	"There's your answer. You told Babs."
	"Pardon?"
	"Babs must've told Harriet, and you know what she's like. If loose lips sink ships then that girl could send a dozen fleets to a watery grave all by herself. Max must've have heard and decided that sending an invite to someone who wouldn't even be in the country was a waste of money. All perfectly reasonable and nothing personal."
	"Oui..." agreed Fifi "Zat must be it. So why aren't you zere?"
	"Hmmm? Me?"
	"Oui, vous."	
	"I wasn't invited."
	"Quoi?"
	"I wasn't invited. Simple as that."
	"I'm 'perfectly reasonable and nothing personal' while you 'wasn't invited?'? Pourquoi?"
	Calamity shrugged and sighed.
	"Most likely the same reason I'm never invited to any function. I was forgotten."
	"Forgotten?"
	"I am the invisible mammal. Until I do something spectacular or important, I'm just part of the background."
	"Zat cannot be true. Surely you must have been to parties. What about ze one zat demolished Hampton's house?
	"It was an open house, I came because everyone was there."
	"What about..."
	"I appreciate your concern Fifi but the last real party I was at was the big dance and after I put up all of the decorations I accidentally wound up floating upside-down by my tail for the entire night. I did have a good view of the whole thing though."
	"Zat's so sad. You've always just been 'overlooked'?"
	Calamity looked at his coffee cup as if he had found something interesting in it's off-white porcelain and shrugged again.
	"It's not as bad as it sounds, really. I've come to treasure my solitude."
	"Calamity..."
	"Hm?"
	"Do you play poker?"
	"No, can't say that I do. I tried a long while ago and it was easy enough to play but for some reason I was never very successful at it."
	"Moi can see why. You, Calamity, are a -very- bad liar."
	The young Coyote looked up at the female skunk and smirked.
	"Egads... The skunk is MORE than just a pretty face."
	"Flirt."
	"I did tell you the truth when I said that I enjoy my solitude. It's the social isolation that's disturbing. To know I'm effectively transparent unless I'm needed to fulfill a function. 'Calamity, I need a machine to make me funnier.' 'Calamity would you decorate the gym for the dance?' 'We could use a set director, Calamity.' 'We need a machine that will shrink us down so we can fly into Plucky's head for an entire show. We better get Calamity to build us one.'"
	"You must have made zat last one up."
	"No, I didn't, and to make matters worse I never seem to ever reap any sort of benefits for my work. Not even as much as a pat on the head for THIS scrawny little desert wolf."
	"I didn't know..."
	"I know. Even though I'd probably wind up as a wallflower at any social event I, I just would like to have a real invitation extended to me. Calamity Coyote, you are hereby formally invited to blah, blah, blah..." the canine sighed and doodled a little on his sketchpad. "Just having the choice of turning down an invitation can make all the difference in the world to somebody like me."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Vinnie and his dates left the two bunnies to their own devices and headed over to the Snack tables, which positively groaned under the weight of all the fruitcake, eggnog and other sweet confectionaries sitting on top of them. Buster sipped at his own glass of Eggnog and had to admit to himself that Monty had outdone himself with the spread. Babs tugged on his arm and pointed towards the entrance. 
	Buster's eyes followed Babs's gesture and gasped in surprise. There, in just on the inside of the door were Rhubella Rat and Roderick Rat. The much despised "Anti-Buster and Babs" from Perfecto Prep. Then more students from perfecto began to file in... Danforth Drake, Margot Mallard, the notorious ruby-furred skunk Enna Scent with a mysterious golden-furred male skunk on her arm, looking not so much as her usual 'boy-toy' but a predatory equal... in fact it looked as if every single student that went to Perfecto was walking through the door. All the Looniversity toons stopped dancing and stared even as the band played on, when suddenly Fowlmouth shouted out the question of everyone's mind.
	"WHAT'S THE DADGUM DEAL? WHAT ARE DEY DOING AT OUR DADGUM PARTY?"
	Roddy held up a signed invitation and displayed it to everyone in the gym.
	"WE WERE INVITED, AND IT WAS TOO DELICIOUS AN OPPOURTUNITY TO PASS UP TO GO SLUMMING WHERE NO UPPER CRUST HAS SLUMMED BEFORE."
	The Looniversity Students began to shout their disapproval when Monty managed to get close enough to take the invitation from the rat and read it over.
	"IT'S GENUINE."
	The Perfectos braced themselves with wicked grins as the shouts of their rivals became louder and angrier.
	"I-I GUESS WHEN I ASKED GROVELY TO MAKE AND DISTRIBUTE ENOUGH COPIES FOR EVERY TEEN IN ACME ACRES HE THOUGHT I MEANT THE PERFECTOS AS WELL. WE HAVE TO LET THEM IN."
	"JUST LIKE VAMPIRES!" shouted Sweety as she shook a wing in righteous indignation. "I SAY THROW THE BUMS OUT!"
	Cries of agreement filled the air as the space between the two crowds began to grow smaller when Monty held out his arms blocking the way in desperation.
"COM'ON EVERYBODY! IT'S NOT THAT BAD! IT'S CHRISTMAS! SURELY WE CAN FORGET THE RIVALRIES FOR ONE NIGHT, RIGHT?"
	"I KNOW I CAN, MONTY." Roderick sniggered while he looked out at the Acme Looniversity crowd, with his usual greasy grin in place. "I PROMICE NOT TO START ANYTHING WHILE I'M HERE... AND NEITHER WILL ANY OF MY CLASSMATES. I CAN TELL YOU FOR CERTAIN THAT WE PERFECTOS ARE BIG ENOUGH TO PUT ASIDE OUR DIFFERENCES." "I WILL BE HONEST THOUGH... I DON'T KNOW IF YOUR 'FRIENDS' HAVE IT IN THEM TO BE CIVIL FOR AN *ENTIRE* EVENING."
	"HEY! WE'RE MORE CIVIL DAN DA LOT OF YOU FLAMING PERFECTOS GLUED TOGETHER!" shouted Fowlmouth from somewhere in the crowd. "JUST GIVE US ONE NIGHT AND WE'LL BE SO CIVIL IT'LL MAKE YOUR HEAD SPIN!"
	There were stern shouts of agreement from the student body and Montanna Max not missing a beat, seized the microphone and laughed warmly into it while shaking Rodney's hand vigorously.
	"WONDERFUL! WELCOME TO MY CHRISTMAS PARTY, PERFECTO PREP!"
	The newcomers fully entered the gym and began to mingle and the toonsters gave up their hopes of ejecting them. It was Christmas, and in spite of the fact that the Perfecto Preps were the archrivals of the Looniversity, they were willing to make the effort. It was after all, just for one night. A shame the music was too loud for them to hear Monty's quiet cackling laugh.
	Even Buster himself wasn't immune to the sense of resignation that chipped away at everyone. As the Star player on all of the Looniversity teams it was an unsaid rule that he shouldn't get chummy with the Perfectos on the principal of the thing however, he realised that the others would follow his example whatever it may be. He had to be on his best behaviour or this could easily turn into a disaster.
	He smiled pleasantly and glanced over at his date who apparently had ignored the conclusion to the entire Perfecto invasion in favour of staring at Vinnie and his 'companions'. Puzzled, he shouted the best question for such a situation he could think of.
	"PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?"
	"I *STILL* CAN'T BELEIVE HOW BRAINLESS THAT 'BINKY BUNNY' WAS!" shouted Babs to Buster who relaxed a little. 
	"ARE YOU STILL THINKING ABOUT HER?"
	"I CAN'T HELP IT, BUSTER. SHE DIDN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND OUR 'NO RELATION' LINE! IT'S THE CORNERSTONE OF OUR ROUTINE! WHAT COULD VINNIE POSSIBLY SEE IN A GIRL SO... INSIPID?"
	"DON'T BE SO HARD ON HER BABS." answered Buster as he polished off his eggnog, the cool liquid leaving a warm feeling in his belly. "I ALMOST MADE THAT GIRL YOUR REPLACEMENT."
	Buster slapped his hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop the words as they left his lips. In spite of the heavy bass beat resounding in his oversized ears he could hear the icy silence from the pink rabbit at his side and he didn't even have to look at her to know what sort of look she was giving him. 
	"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY, 'REPLACEMENT'?"

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	Furrball tucked his Violin back into it's case before picking up his old top hat to count the spare change within.
	"Seventy eight... Ninety... a buck thirty. Not bad for tax free income."
	"My gawd, Furrball. You should be performing with an orchestra, not on a street corner! Where did you ever learn to play like that?"
	"Do you remember the episode 'Buster and the Wolverine'?"
	"With Gene the Wolverine? I never saw the whole thing but I remember noticing it was yet another episode I wasn't in. What about it?"
	"Well, in the show I had to pretend I could play the Violin. They gave me a paper mache prop with a soaped-up bow and told me to mime along to that old vinyl record. I kinda liked the way I looked with the thing and decided to learn how to play it. Fortunately for me I had oodles of time to do it."
	"So you went out and had someone teach you?"
	"Not really. I just picked up a few books from the library, watched a few instructional videos and... well... practiced a lot."
	"You taught yourself?"
	"Pretty much. I wrote that last tune too."
	"You... I... guh... Furrball, you've gotta be some sort of musical prodigy to teach yourself to be that good." 
	"Really? That's kind of cool."
	"Kind of? I just told you that you could be another Mozart and you just shrug it off like it's nothing?"
	"I guess it's just the way I am. Now, it's been nice seeing you again but It's been a long night for me and I have a thin blanket and a can full of cold soup awaiting me back at my box." Furrball popped the now empty top hat onto his head and giving it a pat turned to leave. "Have a Merry Christmas, Mary."
	Mary watched as the blue alleycat, whom she at one time called pet, walked down the street with his violin case under his arm, surrounded by the slow snowfall. She suddenly felt a tinge of loss, as if waking up from a favorite dream and found her mouth saying words unbidden there.
	"Furrball?"
	The feline stopped and half-turned back in her direction.
	"Yes Mary?"
	"It's Christmas... let me buy you a cup of coffee or something before you go home. O.K.?"
	Furrball looked down the empty street he was about to traverse, then back at Mary under the iron lamppost. He seemed to be weighing her words his somber features considering his options, then he smiled at her.
	"That sounds wonderful."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Plucky was having the time of his life, sort of. It had taken every persuasive ounce of grovelling on his part to get Shirley to come to the party with him. Once there it seemed almost as if she was determined to not have a good time but a slice of Christmas cake and a few glasses of Eggnog later and she really loosened up.
	Now that she was on the dance floor with him, he desperately hoped for a slow dance. ('Rudoplh' the Alternative version, seemed to lack both the Christmas spirit and the romantic feeling he would have preferred at this moment) The music's high tempo continued it's pace and it was all Plucky could do to keep pace with Shirley's wild dancing.
	Her limbs flailed at the air in a possibly coordinated manner while psychic lightning rippled across her entire body. The blue-white sparks made her feathers; already glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration, glow in an ethereal manner. If Plucky could sum up Shirley in one word tonight, that word would be "Radiant".
	Every time he tried to get close though, he received a mild shock, like static electricity. He was certain she wasn't doing it on purpose. She was too wrapped up in the music to even be aware of him. He felt a twinge of powerlessness when she gripped her ribbon and removed it from her hair, allowing it to fly unfettered with every motion of her head while her dancing increased in intensity.
	He had never seen her like this in his life. He knew how much she loved to dance but was frightened she might fly apart. Then it happened... 
	The song ended and like a puppet with severed strings Shirley collapsed into Plucky's arms. In the span of a few seconds an eternity passed for Plucky as he supported the ragdoll limp body of his girlfriend, praying she hadn't overdone it when she raised her head and gazed blearily into his wide eyes grinning like a... well a Loon.
	"GAWD, YOU'RE SO HANDSOME PLUCKY!"
	Plucky, for the first time in his life couldn't think of anything to say.


#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	Momma Al took the lull in Calamity and Fifi's conversation as an opportunity to refill their coffee cups, place a new carton of cream on the table and give Calamity a pat on the head before returning to her duties at the main counter. Fifi stared at Calamity again until the young Coyote blushed and relented.
	"I remind her of a dog she used to own."
	"I see..." Giggled Fifi. "Do you get any special perks as a result?"
	"I've never pushed my luck beyond the free refills on coffee."
	"Free refills? Ces't pas dommage. What sort of dog was it?"
	"You know... I never did ask her but if I remind her of it so much, then I truly pity the poor thing."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Oh come now Miss LaFume. Let's face the fact that you don't exactly have Buster Bunny seated across from you."
	"I do not understand."
	"Then let me be crystal clear. Coyotes are hardly the paragon of toony aesthetics and I, with little doubt, am the worst possible emissary to prove otherwise."
	"You sink you are unattractive?"
	"Heck, I originally thought the movie 'Coyote Ugly' was my life's story."
	"Calamity, you are not ugly..."
	"Scrawny physique..."
	"I'd have used ze word 'wiry'"
	"Huge red nose..."
	"Ces't un joli nez."
	"Ridiculous eyebrows..."
	"Distinctive eyebrows. I would never call you ugly, Calamity."
	"You're just saying that."
	"I mean it. In truth, I even envy you a little."
	"You? Envy me?"
	"Because even the smallest part of you is ten times more real zen all of me."
	"What?"
	"I had to change almost everything about me to get my part on ze show. Did you know I wear contact lenses?"
	"That's not so strange, Babs wears..."
	Fifi removed a large set of glasses from her body pocket and placed it on the table between them. Calamity lifted them up and looking through the thick round lenses gave a low whistle.
	"Impressive eyewear you have here."
	"Ze contacts can only correct my vision so much. Now you know why I kept mistaking you as a skunk. Yes?"
	"It would explain a lot. Say, does Pepe..."
	"Non... Pepe is just... enthusiastic."
	"Just the same he should get his eyes checked."
	"Zen zere's my hair."
	"What about your hair?"
	"It used to be longer and curlier... and black. Ze studio told me I had to be more distinctive so my hair was cut short, restyled... and I get a full body dye-job every second Thursday."
	"I see..."
	"I had to take special 'Scent training' from Professeur LePew so that I could release my... Urm... glands over an extended period of time. Let me tell you, it is not an easy sing to raise a big stink in zat manner."
	"That explains why your odor wasn't prevalent all of the time. Only when it was funny."
	"Oui. Ze final change was to my figure. I had to gain some... weight."
	"Gain?"
	"I looked a bit *TOO* girlish for what zey wanted and so was asked to gain a little bit here... and here... and of course..."
	"I-I think I get the idea Fifi, no need to continue. Really!" Stammered the coyote as Fifi displayed locations.
	"...right here."
	"...Oh my."
	"It was not easy either."
	"I thought gaining weight would be simple for you."
	"Quoi?" Growled Fifi narrowing her eyes at Calamity.
	"Skunks are notorious for having slow metabolisms. Weight gain should be a snap."
	"Oh, zat's what you meant. Non Calamity. I 'ave been born with a higher metabolism zan my family. It is 'ard to maintain just ze 'right' amount of weight for zis figure. I 'ave a special regimen of diet and exercise to make sure my figure remains constant."
	"I had no idea."
	"At least you are respected for your brain, even if it is only from time to time. Moi, am a complete fraud. When mon pere first saw what I had done to myself he ranted on about ze bad influence of Americans for over an hour."
	"That's awful..."
	"He was not angry at me, just Americans in general. He did get over it and now calls me, "Mon petit femme rasin", his little grape girl."
	"Not to be picky but your coloring leans more towards lavender than grape."
	"Father owns a vineyard."
	"Oh... I think I understand the weird logic now."
	"Around ze world, parents still have ze weird sense of humor."
	"Tell me about it. 'Calamity' is a childhood nickname my parents gave me for blowing up the garage. I suppose their including it in my theatrical resume was just 'parental humor' yet again."
	"Un moment sil vous plait. Your name is *not* Calamity?"
	"I suppose in a legal sense it is. The 'Weird Butt newtwork' fell in love with the name and asked me to sign my contract with it. For a toon that's as official a change of name will get."
	"Is zat true?"
	"I can name half a dozen toons who no longer go by their birth names."
	"Name one..."
	"Goofy."
	"Goofy? Zee Goofy... over at Disney?"
	"His birth name was Dippy Dawg but later, upon the suggestion of the higher ups, he changed it to Goofy."
	"I did not know zat."
	"And up until five minutes ago I didn't know you wore glasses. We both learned something."
	Fifi smiled and cocked her head as a thought struck her.
	"So, what IS your real name."
	"Do you really want to know?"
	"I sink you know I do."
	"I'll make a deal with you Fifi."
	"A deal? What sort of deal?"
	"If I tell you my real name..."
	"...Oui?"
	"...Would you wear your glasses for the rest of tonight?"
	"Pardon?"
	"My name for your frames. An easy enough bargain, wouldn't you think?"
	"I... I do not know..."
	"Comon Fifi. It's not like I asked you to marry me or something. Just wear the glasses."
	"I... ohhhhh very well. What's ze worst zat could happen?"
	Fifi pulled out the container for her contacts and a few moments later had the tiny lenses encased within it. It always befuddled her as to how... naked her eyes felt without them. With her contacts on, she was less nearsighted than normal. The world became a place of colors, fuzzy shapes and patterns devoid of the black lines that separated them. Fortunately for her, she had an excellent memory for floor plans, terrain and could easily match people with their markings, voices and scent. No one ever noticed how closely she had to peer at her books or at computer screens in order to read them, and when they did, they dismissed it as her poor English at work. 
	Her glasses on the other hand were something she only wore in the privacy of her own home. Something she used to read and memorize her scripts, word for word. 
	This would be the first time anyone she knew would see her with them on.
	Then again, this would be the first time she would see anyone she knew, clearly.
	Taking a deep breath she squinched her eyes shut and slid them into place. She felt the silence on behalf of Calamity reach an almost deafening level before she carefully pried open one eye and then the other and saw the youthful canid for her first time.
	"Sacre..."
	This was the coyote who thought he was ugly? She couldn't believe it. He had such well-defined features. She always knew he did, even with her contact lenses she had seen him in profile and his face had features unusual enough that she could make them out but this... His eyes looked so warm and expressive, his mouth although small had a subtlety to the way it wrapped about his jaw. Those 'ridiculous eyebrows' seemed to make him more distinguished, like an older gentleman in a younger body. His nose... Well, it WAS large, and it WAS bright red, but for some reason it seemed to suit him. It was part of his character like Groucho Marx's moustache and without it he wouldn't be Calamity.
	 Her train of thought was derailed by Calamity's next words.
	"Hi, my name is Caleb Coyote, What's yours?"
	"F-Fifi LeFume. I am pleased to at last meet you monsieur Caleb Coyote."
	"Please... call me Cal."
	The two gazed into each other's eyes for a few minutes when the sound of voices and the stomping of snow from feet broke their revelry. Looking over to the front door, Fifi and Cal saw Furrball and Mary brushing themselves free of snow and Mary speaking to Momma Al.
	"Could we have two Cups of hot coffee and a menu please?." Mary asked the massive Momma Al as she took their coats for them.
	Fifi noticed the smile on Cal's lips and couldn't help but smile herself.
	"Shall we invite them to dine at our table, Miss LaFume?"
	"I sink it would only be proper, Cal. Yoo-Hoo! Maree! Furrball! Ovaire here!"

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#
	

	The dance proceeded on its course like a runaway train. Monty marvelled at how quickly people fell into a kind of stupor as they ate, drank and danced for something to do. Unaware of the volatile mix of loud music, school rivalry and alcohol-laden food they were steeping themselves in.
	He revelled in how everyone seemed to achieving the state of brain-haze he had anticipated. His Commercial Spirit was strangling the Christmas Spirit out of these pathetic low-lives and they were too far gone to even notice it happening.
	He chuckled and sipped at his imported ginger-ale... of course it was sweet, but nowhere as sweet as the succeeding where so many Christmas villains had failed. Steal Christmas? No one can 'Steal' Christmas... it's an idea, a feeling, an abstract concept. It could no more be stolen than one could steal love or sorrow.
	But he could do something better. He could cheapen it, ruin it, spoil it for everyone so completely that not only will the memory of this holiday linger upon them for the rest of the year... they'll actually dread it's approach next year.
	Yes... That's what makes this plan so sweet.
		
#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	"Fifi? What are you doing here?" Exclaimed Mary as she slid in beside Fifi and Furrball sat beside Cal. "Shouldn't you be in France or something?"
	"I was, ow you say, waylaid by ze storm. Fortunately, Cal here was kind enough to keep Moi Company on zis Christmas eve."
	"Oh hi there Calamity. Sorry I didn't notice you there before."
	"Story of my life. Hi Blue, how do you do?."
	"Hey Grey. What do you say?"
	As Cal and Furrball exchanged a complex handshake between them, Fifi and Mary, now past the point of being surprised by any new voices, smiled politely and included themselves into the conversation.
	"Well now. You two look like you're pretty close friends."
	"Non-speaking Character's union local 205. Cal and I had to join at the Toony Beginning."
	"We have quite the prestigious roster."
	"I'll bet." Mary said with a smirk. "Almost any series I can think of has a silent member in there someplace."
	"Mostly in the sidekick position, but beggars can't be choosers."
	"Speaking of which Furrball, feel free to pick anything off of the menu."
	"Thanks Mary."
	Furrball immediately began perusing the menu, silently mouthing the names of each entry while Mary turned to Fifi and Cal.
	"So, what were you two discussing before we got here?"
	"Just a petit conversation of our work on ze show."
	"Really?"
	"Yes. Just the usual sort of dialogue one would expect. Working conditions, contract details, wages..."
	"Boy are you a bad liar. What were you really talking about?"
	"Compromises."
	"Come again?" 
	"He said zat we were discussing ze compromises we 'ad to make for our parts."
	"Let me guess, that's where the glasses come in?"
	"Mmmmm, in part, oui."
	"How about you, Mary? Did you have to make any compromises with the company?"
	"I have to consult them any time I want to change the way I look."
	"Fascinating."
	"Oh, you say that now, but to have someone go through a list of your wardrobe every week and tell you what you can and cannot wear, that tends to wear on a girl after a while. Sometimes it makes me wonder why I ever joined up with this troup."
	"Zen, why did you join?"
	"Wish I could just tell you it was the money, but then I'd be lying. I guess it's that I wanted my parents to be proud of me."
	"That was being pretty honest."
	"Well, I don't see my parents a great deal, double income family and all y'know. So when the opportunity came up for me to be part of a WB cartoon, I jumped at it."
	"Your parents are ze fans of ze WB?"
	"Didn't the name 'MARY MELODY' tip you off?"
	"I always thought it was a coincidence."
	"It could have been worse. I might have been named Petunia Melody or something. The old works weren't exactly brimming with female toons. Still, 'Mary' is a pretty good name."
	"It is a good name, that is if you want a little dignity to your persona." Chuckled Furrball, closing his menu. "Now when I chose *MY* name I was going for downright pathetic." 
	"You mean you deliberately chose ze name 'Furrball'?"
	"Yup. Memorable, demeaning, descriptive and you can't shorten it to anything worth saying. Everything the WB could have hoped for their resident mangy old Alleycat."
	"I can agree to that. If the name 'Calamity' wasn't on my resume you might have had a different coyote blowing up the labs."
	"Heh, I doubt any other coyote could have survived as long as you have, Grey."
	"Coming from you, Furrball, I shall take that as a compliment."
	"Take it as you like, Grey, but it won't change the fact I'm still tougher than you."
	"We'll debate that later Furrball. This is not the place nor is it a proper time. I apologize for my friend, ladies." Cal said to Mary and Fifi "We have a bit of a running competition."
	"I gathered as much." Mary said, sipping her coffee. "I hope Mom and Dad won't be too tired to unwrap presents in the morning. Those late shifts at the hospital can really wear you out."
	"Your parents are working tonight?
	"Only because so few people are willing to work on Christmas Eve, Calamity. Even among Doctors. Mom and Dad have a strong social sense of responsibility and I'm not selfish enough to ask them to stop, but I still miss them."
	Cal slumped back in his seat with a sigh.
	"Great... Now I feel guilty."
	"You? Why?"
	"Fifi can't get to her parents because of the weather, yours are doing important work, Furrball's parents are..."
	"You know about my parents already, Desert-wolf." Furrball added helpfully with a smirk.
	"I'm the only one without a viable excuse for not seeing mine tonight."
	"Really?"
	"Well there's the distance between us but I could have easily hopped a bus yesterday and been there by now but I never bothered to. I feel like such a... a..."
	"A royal dork?"
	"Thank you, Furrball."
	"Anytime Cal."
	Cal stared out of the window for a minute before placing both hands on the table and standing up.
	"Pardon me... I need to make a phone call."
	Furrball allowed Cal to get out of the booth where he crossed the length of the diner to the pay phone at the other end. The three toons watched as he fed a small stream of quarters into the machine and punched a long procession of buttons.
	"I suppose we should give him some privacy."
	"Oui. It may not be a pretty sight."
	Mary nodded at her friend's observations and reached for Cal's small drawing pad, pulling it over to her.
	"So what weird, wonderful and possibly 'Weathal' devices is our resident genius creating toni... oh my."
	"Quoi?"
	"Lemme see."
	Six sets of eyes perused the pad before them and widened at the drawings on each page. There, in pencils and colored pencils were drawing upon drawing of people, places and things in and around Acme Acres. 
	Many of them were mere sketches but quite a few were full drawings. Beautiful and detailed, sometimes with more detail than the real thing.
	"Sacre blu... Cal has talent."
	"That's me... and you... Babs, Buster, Furrball, Plucky, even Hampton. Everybody's in here."
	"Don't act too surprised ladies. When a person lacks a voice they tend to find other ways of expressing themselves. Cal's lousy as an inventor but... as an artist he shows talent."
	The trio flipped through page after page of drawings, marvelling at what they saw. The halls of Acme Loo were there as well as it's populace of students and staff. Some were drawn seriously and some in sheer jest.
	"Oh... That's just *SO* Plucky!" Giggled Mary pointing out a characture of Shirley frying him. "Cal really caught the moment."
	"Which moment? There were so many to choose from." Furrball chuckled, flipping to the next page only to pause at what he and the two girls saw.
	There, rendered in the simple grey of a pencil was a drawing of Fifi. She was leaning against her locker as if the weight of the world had fallen upon her shoulders, a single sheet of paper in her hand, an open envelope on the floor. Mary, Furrball and Fifi stared at the drawing for a minute before Furrball broke the silence.
	"He's uh... very good."
	"Yes. He is good, isn't he Fifi?"
	Fifi didn't answer. She knew exactly when this picture was drawn even without looking at the date. It was the day Hampton had given her the letter that explained that he had fallen for someone else. He had given it to her after classes saying that it would explain everything better than he ever could say out loud, and it did.
	That day her heart broke in half but she was certain that she hid it well enough from everyone. Even when she told everyone that they 'broke up' nobody she knew realised how much anguish she was in... or so she thought. It seemed that someone did. She was positive that there was nobody in that hallway when she read that letter, then she remembered what Cal told her.
	"I am ze invisible mammal." She murmured "Until I do something spectacular or important, I am just part of ze background."	
	Of all the people she knew, he was the only one who noticed her pain... even if she couldn't see him in an empty hallway.
	Half remembering the pain of that moment and half feeling sorry for Cal she flipped the page over... and laughed.
	There. On the page in bright colored pencils was Hampton in tattered peasant garb and shackles, cowering on his knees before Fifi... no, QUEEN FIFI. Decked out in crown, jewels and enwrapped in a very flattering dress with regal overtones, she stood in a royal throne room. Her porcine ex-boyfriend however, was begging her forgiveness for his mistreating her, no doubt because, prodding him in the butt with a rapier sword was a very familiar coyote clad in a musketeer costume.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	The two Bunnies continued their argument even as they drew a crowd of toons about them.
	"I DON'T BELIEVE IT! YOU REALLY *DID* ENJOY THAT KISS YOU AND FIFI DID IN 'REAL KIDS DON'T EAT BROCCOLI'!"
	"OF COURSE I DID! DID IT REALLY TAKE YOU THIS LONG TO REALISE WHY I KEPT FLUBBING MY LINES AND MAKING OTHER BLOOPERS DURING THE CLUB ACME SCENE?"
	"WHY YOU TWO TIMING, NO GOOD..."
	"AT LEAST *I* KEPT MY INFATUATIONS IN THE ANIMAL KINGDOM, BABS!"
	"WHAT?"
	"I REMEMBER YOU FLUBBED YOUR LINES A FEW TIMES WHEN YOU AND MONTY WERE KISSSING."
	The crowd GASPED! at the revelation. Babs could only gape as Buster turned his back on her.
	"I DID *NOT* DO IT ON PURPOSE!"
	"SURRRRE YOU DIDN'T... IT CERTAINLY LOOKED OTHERWISE WHILE YOU AND THAT SHAVED MONKEY WERE PERFORMING HOME TONSILECTOMIES ON EACH OTHER."
	"I... YOU... GRRRRRRRRR... ALL RIGHT!!! MAYBE I DID ENJOY IT A LITTLE BIT!"
	Everyone in the immediate vicinity found their jaws meeting the hard wood of the floor, including Buster who could only whisper one thing...
	"I knew it..."
	"I LIKED IT, BUSTER BUNNY AND DO YOU WANT TO KNOW SOMETHING ELSE? HE'S A GREAT KISSER! BETTER THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!!"
	Buster froze and began shaking as Babs' scornful statement echoed inside his head. He seemed unable to do anything but stand there with his back to her until he managed to break free of his paralysis. 
	"OH YEAH?!"
	Buster wheeled about blindly and made a grab for Babs... but his aim was way off and he wound up seizing Rubella Rat instead. She struggled in his grip to no avail and found it impossible to protest when his lips clamped down upon hers. A faint squeek escaped Babs' lips as she could only stare at her boyfriend frenching one of their sworn enemies. At the end of the kiss Rubella seemed quite dazed while Buster stood semi-triumphant.
	"WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT, BABSEY!"
	"ACME... RAH." Moaned Rubella as the stunned look on her face changed to one of dazed contentment.
	"Hey... You're not Babs."
	Roderick Rat snarled and stepped forward to give Buster a piece of his mind (and fist) when Babs, in a jealous rage, grabbed him and swung him into her arms.
	"WHAT THE... RELEASE ME RABBIT!!!"
	"I SAY, THIS MEANS WAR!! PUCKER SUCKER!"
	Babs liplocked with the last toon in Acme Acres that she ever dreamed she would've. In a two-meter radius everyone's drinks evaporated into steam... ice and all and amazingly enough the sound of Buster's teeth grinding together could be heard over the music.
	Babs finally relinquished her mouth's deathgrip on Roderick and sneered at her blue bunny beau.
	"HAH! WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT, MR. BUSTER 'I'LL KISS A RAT TO GET EVEN WITH MY GIRLFRIEND!' BUNNY?"
	"MOM... I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN HOPING I'LL MARRY RUBELLA BUT... I MET THIS RABBIT..." Roderick swooned as he gazed adoringly up at Babs from the cradle of her arms.
	"HUSH YOU."
	"OH... YOU'RE NOT SO HOT, BABS!"
	"SAYS WHO?"
	"SAYS ME!"
	"OH NO YOU AREN'T!"
	"OH YES I AM!"
	"OH NO YOU AREN'T!"
	"OH NO YOU ARE NOT!"
	"YES SHE IS!!!"
	All eyes turned to Roderick as he suddenly realised the spectacle he had just made of himself... in front of Rubella no less.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	
	
	Fifi's laughter finally petered out, leaving her with nothing but a case of french accented giggles. Mary and Furrball looked at the mirth-filled drawing in question and snorted out a few snickers as well. Even as Momma Al took their orders and poured Furrball and Mary two cups of hot coffee they could hardly keep straight faces.
	"I... hee hee haven't seen anything that funny since we did the 'Date with Elmyra' bit."
	"I agree Mary... if a picture is worth a thousand words I can guess what every one is here."
	The human and feline toons turned and grinned at the skunkette who could only blush in response to the silent inquisition.
	"Je... I... didn't know he liked me."
	"Fifi, Everybody likes you. Heck, I personally *LOVED* it when you threw yourself at me in that one bit we did. If it had've been my choice I wouldn't have run."
	Fifi and Mary looked at Furrball in mock shock and giggled.
	"Furrball! Tu are 'ow zey say... ze filthy alley cat!"
	"Yeah... you're certainly not the sweet kitten I thought you were."
	"I'm sweet!" He protested with a large grin. "I just really like it when a pretty girl shows me affection. Show me a man who says otherwise and I'll show you a liar."
	"Alright, Alright. We believe you." 	
"Still... I remember Fifi doing some interesting improv when she was wooing a certain tar-clad coyote."
	"Pardon moi? What do you..."
	"Fifi, you kissed the length of Cal's leg."
	Mary's eyes widened again as she turned to her furry friend.
	"GASP! Fifi! You know, for a skunk you're quite the little minx!"
	"Non! Eet was not zat way, honest!" 
	"Cal confessed to me that when you planted those kisses along his quadriceps femoris he nearly had a coronary."
	"I was just doing as ze director asked. I embellished mon part."
	"Sounds more like a desperate cry for help to me, Furrball."
	"Ah, but what *KIND* of help, Mary?? Poor Cal... Didn't you notice he wasn't filing away at just ONE bar? He couldn't concentrate at all!"
	"Would *you* be able to?"
	"If it was Fifi's lips on my inner thigh? Probably not."
	Fifi's cheeks changed to deep crimson as her blush only increased at the teasing.
	"Mary! Furrball! Sil vous plait!" 
	"Ahhh, you know we're just teasing you Feef. You look so adorable when you blush."
	"Besides, you do have a bit of a reputation around here."
	Fifi nodded at Mary's words.
	"I am aware of mon 'reputation'. Zere are sometimes I wish zat I could show ze world what moi is really like rather zan mon character. A lot of me did go into what ze world sees but..."
	"Relax Feef. Anyone with half a brain in their head knows you aren't nearly as love starved as you pretend to be. You've gotten an idea in a few minutes with me that I'm not quite as 'Furrball' as I look."	
	"True, true. So how *did* you get involved with the show?"
	"Me?"
	"Oui, Vous. Tell us, Furrball. 'Ow come you joined ze show?"
	Furrball looked at the two girls with genuine surprise for a minute before his facial features settled down into a more sombre arrangement than they had ever seen on his face. He sighed heavily and closing his eyes began to speak in an even tone.
	"I promised my dad."
	It was the girls' turn to stare as his words took a moment to settle in.
	"Pardnez moi?"
	"I promised my dad. Well, not to join the show but... I guess you need a little background to understand this.
	"I was born in the old brownstone district of the city. My mother divorced my father a little after I was born so I have few real memories of her. My dad, I remember he was a pretty good man. Everybody in the neighbourhood knew him and liked him. Being a single parent is a lot harder than it looks on TV but he did his best to raise me and provide for me, taking jobs that he normally wouldn't have just so that I could have as comfortable a childhood as he could give me. He often worked late and some of the neighbours would keep an eye on me during his shifts but when he got home... no matter how tired he was, he always had time to listen to what I learned that day or to play catch with me."
	Mary smiled and nodded. "Your dad sounds like a great guy."
	"He was." 
	"Was? ...Oh! I'm sorry! I..."
	"S'alright." Furrball dismissed her apology with a casual wave of his hand. "It was some time ago, and you're right, he was a great guy. I think you two would have liked him."
	Furrball leaned back and stared up at the ceiling with a smile on his face. As if he were in on a private joke that only he knew of.
	"I still remember him in so many ways. The smell of the pipe tobacco in his jacket, the feel of his arms when he would lift me onto his shoulders, the sound of his voice as he read to me while I lay in bed. Sometimes I pray to heaven that I never forget him.
	"He gave me some good advice when I was younger. He told me it didn't matter what you did for a living, just try to find something you're good at. If you're good at it then you'll probably like doing it as a job."
	"Good advice."
	"Yeah, it was good advice, Mary. But you still should have seen his eyes when I told him I was trying out for a part in a WB cartoon. Nearly popped out of his head. Heh... I told him I wanted to give acting a try and I could tell how much he wanted to tell me that 'acting was a fools occupation'. He was so supportive. He kept his mouth shut, helped me put together my resume and even took the day off to come with me over to the studios. Before I walked into the Tiny Toons casting offices my dad gave me a hug as if it was the last time I'd ever see him and whispered something into my ear. He said that no matter what, he would always be proud of me.
	"I walked in through those doors and my world changed for the better... but the best part was that my dad was there when I came out."

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	
	Plucky navigated Shirley down the back halls of the Schlesinger Gym, past the concession stand and the offices, checking each doorknob in turn as he searched for someplace a little more private. Of course her 'wandering hands' were not making the trip any easier, especially the times she managed to grab a healthy handful of his tailfeathers.
	"Eep! Shirl! Not here!"
	"Wassamater?" She giggled as she pinched him again. "Never thought you'd be goosed by a loon?"
	The mallard squeaked again, finally finding an open office and herded his amorous date inside and locked the door. Taking stock in his surroundings he realised that this was Lola's personal office. The few items adorning the walls had her name on them, there was a desk, a small coffee machine that was still cooking a pot of week-old coffee and a large leather couch wedged between the filing cabinet and the door. The best part was that it was quiet in here. The ear shuddering music in the gym was just a dull regular thumping in this room. It wasn't easy for him to remove his jacket and tie as she practically draped herself over him but he managed it. 
	The loon stared adoringly into his eyes and smiled goofily as he held her at arms length, her body swaying slightly from side to side like a willow tree in a soft breeze. She reached out and with a naughty smile stroked her hands down his chest, somehow ruffling the feathers beneath his shirt in the process.
	"Mmmmm... Like, this is a nice, cosy and totally private little place you brought us to, Plucky. I wonder what you have in mind."
	Plucky placed his finger in the middle of Shirley's forehead and gave a slight push sending the toon tumbling onto the couch, giggling as she bounced on it's cushions. She struggled to prop herself up on her elbows and Plucky sighed.
	"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?"
	"Nope!" she giggled as she beckoned to him. "This couch is like, soo comfortable. Wanna join me?"
	Plucky gave his date a crooked smile, knelt beside the couch and taking her head in his hands whispered to her.
	"You have no idea... HEY! HELLO IN THERE! I know you're at home so haul your astral hiney out here this instant!"
	Shirley winced as her boyfriend shouted in her face but regardless of her reaction it had the desired effect. Almost lazily, Shirley's aura rose up out of her body, it's usual powder blue form flickering in the air before his stern gaze.
	"I've got a job for you."
	The aura frowned at Plucky, crossing its arms in defiance. 
	"Don't give me that. This is important."
	The aura cocked its head to one side as if to say, "I'm listening."
	"Fair enough. I'm sure you can tell how loopy the loon is acting tonight. It's probably because she's drunk as a skunk right now."
	The aura recoiled; it's eyes wide and angry. It gestured at Plucky accusingly.
	"Don't point your finger at me you astral space cadet. I may be opportunistic jerk but even I have my limits."
	The aura seemed satisfied with his statement and examined its tipsy host with a concerned look on its face.
	"I know...I'm worried about her too but right now I need you to make her sober."
	The aura whipped its head around to face Plucky with a questioning look and pointing at itself.
	"Yeah, you. I want you to take on her drunkenness instead of her, and don't tell me that 'Alcohol damages the spirit'. I need her sober because unless she's been tapping into her own "private stock", it's most likely that everyone who's on that dance floor is as hammered as she is. I'm gonna need all the help I can get."
	The aura attempted to stare Plucky down. Its eyes blazing with defiance...only to feel that defiance crumble under Plucky's gaze. A gaze as hard and unyielding as iron. Finally it relented and kneeling on Shirley's chest it pried her beak wide open and cast a final scorn-filled glance at the mallard.
	"Yeah, I don't like it anymore than you do, so let's get this over with."
	With a slight nod the aura stood up on the arm post of the sofa and leapt up into the air, did a triple gainer with a half twist before diving straight down Shirley's throat despite the seriousness of the situation, Plucky couldn't help but hold up a white card with the number "9.0" on it.
	Shirley on the other hand wasn't feeling very amused. She sat up with a start and clutched her stomach in shock as a wave of dry heaves assaulted her. Finally after almost a full minute of theatrics, a pair of astral hands forced her beak open from within and her aura crawled out. 
	Shirley stared at her aura for a moment and it stared blearily back at her, hiccoughed and opened its mouth as if to speak...only to slap a hand over it and dash madly into the office's private bathroom.
	"Like, What's wrong with her?"
	"I think she's discovering why you should never mix spirits. How do you feel?"
	Shirley placed the palm of her hand in the middle of her forehead and winced.
	"Totally lousy...feels like ants burrowing in my brain...my mouth tastes like pickles ...and my stomach feels like a toxic waste dump. What's wrong with me?"
	"You're having your first hangover. It won't kill you, even though you may wish it did."
	"I've never felt this bad before."
	Plucky poured a cup of black coffee from the coffee machine in the corner and handed the cup to Shirl who accepted it gratefully. She took a sip and groaned softly as her boyfriend pulled up a chair and sat down.
	"You've just never been drunk before."
	"And you have?"
	"I have."
	"I thought that beer in 'One Beer' was just Ginger Ale."
	"It was. This was a number of years before that, before I joined Tiny Toons. Mom and Dad were heading out for an hour or two and Dad had accidentally left the liquor cabinet unlocked. I had seen them drink at parties with other grown-ups so naturally, using 'kid' logic I thought drinking would make me more grown-up."
	"You didn't..."
	"Yeah...I did. I "practiced" half the bottle before my stomach, which had more sense than me, decided to turn itself inside out. That's how Mom and Dad found me, kneeling before that great porcelain god, making my Technicolor confession. They rushed me to the hospital and fortunately other than a massive hangover I wasn't hurt too bad. The doctors declared me 'A very lucky little duck'
	"I'll tell you one thing though Shirl, as bad as that hangover was...and believe me...it was real bad. The worst thing was the look of... utter disappointment Mom and Dad gave me. They never lectured, they didn't yell or threaten... Mom only shook her head, and Dad just said to me, "I thought you were smarter than this!"
	"Like, Ouch." 	
	Plucky sat down in the chair behind the desk and sat down. His body hunched over as he stared at his feet.
	"I've had people mad at me for one reason or another most of my life, I-I'm fine with that. I really am... In fact I'm comfortable with it, but I've never seen anyone so... disappointed with me until that moment. I never wanted to hurt anyone I loved like that again."
	Shirley stared at Plucky as if he were an alien being. She had never seen him like this before but from his tone of voice was and his body language she realised how... vulnerable he looked. Then something suddenly dawned on her.
	"Plucky?"
	"Yes?"
	"Why didn't you take advantage of me while I was drunk? I mean... uh..."
	Plucky's head slowly rose up bringing his eyes level with hers and stared into them in a way she actually found uncomfortable before he spoke.
	"What sort of creep do you think I am? It's one think to act like such a jerk to you when you're sober and able to defend yourself but to... to... strike when your subconscious is wide open and exposed like that, well... that's just unfair and disgusting. I never want to disappoint you like that."
	"My subconscious? Oh that was totally the booze talking or some junk."
	Plucky smiled and shook his head.
	"Tell it to someone who's a little less ignorant about alcohol Shirl. I've read a lot on the subject over the years and I know that it has the unfortunate side effect of knocking loose a lot of the mental blocks we set into place. Stuff leaks out, some of that stuff winds up being the things we never tell anyone but keep locked inside. I think that stuff about you really... REALLY liking me was one of those secrets."
	"Alright... I- I admit it. I don't think I've ever met a more... physically attractive male than you, but that's *ALL* there is between us."
	"I thought as much. Now drink your coffee." 

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	Momma Al seemed to instinctively know when a lull was happening in a conversation and placed three orders of hot soup on the table and refilled the cups with coffee before once again retreating to her position behind the counter. 
Furrball picked up his spoon and gave his soup a stir and sighed deeply. His eyes watching the steam rise out of the bowl as he put down the spoon and continued his tale.
	"I was on the set of 'Furrball on the Roof' when I got the call... I... Remember when I told you my Dad would take jobs he normally wouldn't have?"
	"Oui?"
	"His last job was at a chemical production plant. They specialized in the creation of... solvents."
	"Mon Dieu!"
	"Oh no. You mean...?"
	Furrball closed his eyes and twisted his muffler in his hands as he confirmed their fears.
	"It later came out that the guy who owned the plant cut corners on safety features, used old second hand machinery even bribed one or two inspectors just to save money in the long run. It was going to happen sooner or later, it just happened while my dad was there. I guess I don't have to tell you how I felt when the hospital called."
	"Je... I cannot even imagine..."
	"I couldn't even hold the phone in my hands when, when they told me that one of the tanks had ruptured. If Cal and Plucky hadn't been there I don't know what I'd have done."
	"Plucky?"
	"H-he got Cal to drive me to the hospital and told me that he'd get Buster to fix the script around my absence. It was only later that I saw 'Ducklahoma' that I realised what he went through just so that I could be with my dad."
	"All those anvils... I thought he deserved it."
	"Oui, ze idea of Plucky doing somesing like zat is..."
	"I know... and I'll always be grateful to him for that but there wasn't much for me to do at the hospital. Dad was gone long before I arrived. All I could do for him was sign the papers and arrange the funeral.
	"It was a closed casket funeral... it had to be and there were... so many people there. My dad had so many friends and neighbours... everyone from the factory was there, including that son of a bachelor who owned the plant. I hated him so much and he saw it in my eyes as I stared at him across dad's coffin. 
	"He realised there wasn't a court of law in the land that would side with him. He knew I could take *EVERYTHING* he had so he settled out of court. His lawyers offered me an obscene amount of money to not sue. I didn't take the first offer but when the second offer came I had them add in one clause of my own. In addition to the sum offered to the party that was me, he had to bring every last one of his properties up to code or our agreement was rendered null and void.
	"He grabbed at that agreement like a drowning man would with driftwood."
"So... if he gave you so much money... how come you're so poor?"
	"Oui? You spent all ze money already?"
	Furrball looked at his friends then about the diner. Momma Al was in the back cooking and Cal was on the other side of the diner hunched over the telephone. Furrball placed his Violin Case onto the table and clicked open the latches. The case opened with a faint creek displaying the old battered violin to the toons at the table. He slid it closer to them and without saying a word motioned for them to look into one of the curled sound holes in the face.
	The two girls did as they were bidden and Fifi's eyes were the first to go wide. Unable to say anything as her throat constricted she could only "Urk!" faintly. Mary soon followed as her eyes focused in the darkness inside the Violin and all the air left her lungs in one weak "Squeek!"
	There, inside the violin wasn't money, or gems or gold. Only a simple card against the back, and a name was written on that card.
...Stradivarius.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Buster couldn't help but smirk as Rhubella gave Roddy hell in front of everyone. It gave him a moment to think about what he was gonna say to Babs next. It bothered him that it was so difficult to focus on some sort of witty comeback. Usually he was on the ball but tonight it was an effort to think and... and... what's the word... focus? Frustrated, Buster scooped another glassful of that tasty eggnog and swallowed it in one gulp, the cool thick fluid leaving that nice comforting feeling of warmth in his belly. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and frowned, maybe it was the near deafening music that was interfering with his brain. 
	"HEY! RABBIT!, I WANNA WORD WITH YOU!"
	Buster felt a heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder and force him to turn around. It took a moment for his brain to recognize the toon in front of him. It was Hamton but he seemed ...larger, more aggressive looking. He bore an uncanny resemblance to his performance of "Ham Frye" in Ducklahoma. Broad shoulders, biceps thicker than his neck, barrel chest and a look on his face that said "I mean business".
	Sometimes a toon's body finds a certain shape it feels comfortable with, it seems to 'remember' that shape for future reference. Then when certain conditions are meant, the toon will instinctively reuse that shape. Wile E. called it "Morphic Resonance" and had explained in toon biology that due to a toon's psycho-reactive nature it usually wasn't all that odd for it to happen.
	What did shock Buster was that Hamton chose this particular form...especially now that he was being poked in the chest with enough force to bruise him.
	"WUH-WHAT'S UP HAMMY?"
	"DON'CHU 'HAMMY' ME! I GOTTA BONE TO PICK WITH YOU, YOU LONG EARED, BUCK TOOTHED RODENT."
	Hampton's thick hoof-finger jabbed against Buster again; this time hard enough to push him back about a foot. Instinctively Buster clutched his sore chest while a blond female duck grabbed a hold of Hamton's arm and tried to pull him away.
	"HAMTON, PLEASE. DON'T MAKE A SCENE."
	"STAY OUT OF THIS HONEY. THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND THE 'NO RELATION TEAM"
	"WAIT A MINUTE..." cried Babs,  "WHAT DID I DO?"
	"DON'T YOU GET ME STARTED BARBARA ANNE! YOU'RE EVERY BIT AS BAD AS BUSTER. YOU TWO REALLY MAKE ME SICK. YOU RUN AROUND WITH CHEERFUL SMILES ON YOUR FACES, YOU PRETEND TO BE EVERYONE'S FRIEND... UP UNTIL THINGS DON'T GO YOUR WAY. THAT'S WHEN YOUR TRUE NATURE COMES OUT."
	"HAMPTON, THAT'S JUST NOT TRUE."
	"YES IT IS. I'VE SEEN YOU TWO DO IT NOT ONLY TO ME BUT TO ALMOST EVERYONE IN THE CAST. ADMIT IT... THE INSTANT THE SPOTLIGHT SHIFTS FROM YOU, YOU TRANSFORM INTO A PAIR OF EGOTISTICAL GLORY HOUNDS."
	"COME ON, EVERYONE KNOWS THAT PLUCKY'S ACME ACRES' EGOTISTICAL GLORYHOUND..."
	"THAT'S RIGHT, BABS! BUT *EVERYONE* KNOWS HE'S VAIN, SELFISH AND EGOTISTICAL! IT'S EXPECTED OF HIM. YOU CAN TRUST HIS GREED AND HIS NEED FOR ATTENTION BUT YOU TWO... YOU TWO SICKEN ME. YOU UNDERMINE ANYONE ELSE'S ATTEMPTS AND THE INSTANT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE NOT GETTING YOUR WAY, YOU RUN OFF TO STEVEN TO CRY. 'BOO HOO! WE WEREN'T IN TODAY'S SHOW. BOO HOO' AND IF THAT DOESN'T WORK YOU TRY AND WORM YOUR WAY INTO THE SHOW IN ANY WAY YOU CAN! THEN YOU HAVE THE... THE *GALL* TO SMILE AND DARE CALL US FRIEND"
	Hamton's face was an ugly mask of anger as he ranted at the shocked rabbits, gripping Buster's green tie with one hand while using the other to shake his finger in their faces. Suddenly Buster realized ...that Hammy's face never had so much stubble when he was Ham Frye... the only time he ever saw five o'clock shadow on Hamton was...
	"HAMTON? ARE YOU DRUNK?"
	"SHUT YOUR FACE RABBIT! I NEVER TOUCH ALCOHOL... IT MAKES ME SURLY AND UNREASONABLE!"  
	Buster realised the sudden danger he was in and in opened his arms and smiled in what he hoped was a disarming manner.
	"HEY HAMMY... COMON, NOT NOW. THIS IS A PARTY. WHERE'S YOUR CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?"
	The sound of Hamton's fist colliding with Buster's face was loud enough to be heard over the band. Even as his flying body knocked over a gaggle of Perfecto Geese he could only spit out his loose teeth and groan quietly to himself... "I forgot... he's Jewish." before being hoisted to his feet by Danforth Drake who shook him at arm's length.
	"I  *KNEW* YOU LOO-SERS COULDN'T BE TRUSTED! WE TURN OUR BACKS IN GOOD WILL AND YOU ATTACK US! WELL... IF A THRASHING IS WHAT YOU WANT, THEN A THRASHING YOU SHALL HAVE!"
	Danforth punched Buster in the stomach when Fowlmouth suddenly jumped him from behind. As the two avians grappled they crashed into more and more people who, already in a bad mood, began to swing their fists at whoever was handy at the time. Even as Buster realised he had been shoved into Roddy he found himself being swept up into the terrible spirit of the free-for-all and raised his fists to attack this rival.

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	The soup was mostly eaten by the time Cal hung up the receiver. He blew his nose noisily into a handkerchief and headed over to the table. As he sat down beside Furrball his friends could tell his eyes were red and his cheek fur sticky from crying but strangely enough he was sporting a grin.
	"'Ow did it go?"
	"Mom and dad asked me where I was and I told them I was spending Christmas with some friends this year. They told me I was missing a great party and to wish you all a Merry Christmas, god bless them."
	"They weren't angry?"
	"No, Mary. They were just glad to hear my voice and heaven help me I was glad to hear theirs. I could even hear the band in the background."
	"Band? Sounds like quite the bash."
	"We Islanders take our celebrations seriously, Furrball."
	"Islanders? But vous said you would only be a few hours on ze bus."
	"I was born in Newfoundland up in Canada."
	"Canada? They have Coyotes that far north?"
	"Well... we're a breed that migrated up there and crossbred with gray wolves. Surely you've wondered why my fur is grey while Professor Coyote's is brown?"
	"Uh, no. With all the weird colors that everyone else has, gray is easy to accept. You're really half wolf?"
	"No Mary. Not half wolf, just got some wolf in the mix. Makes me a little more resilient to the cold... and once I hit my full adult size I'll be TWICE as big as my mentor."
	"Sacre Blu! You'll be twice as tall as Wile E?"
	"Nope. I'll have twice the body mass."
	"So much for the basketball scholarship, better concentrate on your football, Cal."
	"Cute Furrball... very cute." Chuckles Cal as he wiped the remains of his tears from his eyes and straightened up. "Say, I feel so good now I'd like to invite you all over to my place. It's not far from here."
	"Count me in."
	"Sure, Mom and dad won't be back until morning."
	"Moi aussi sil vous plait."
	"Great. Finish your soup and we'll be off." 

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Shirley grimaced as she sipped at the disgustingly thick coffee in her hands but it did help her condition a little. She felt, smaller without her aura to protect her. As long as it was bent over in the bathroom heaving seven colors of ectoplasm into the plumbing she was completely powerless. No psychic lightning, no levitation, no connection with the cosmic groove of the universe, nothing. Plucky seemed to realise what was on her mind and smirked as he filled her half emptied cup with more of Lola's week-old bitter brew.
	"Welcome back to the physical plane."
	"I feel, totally grounded. How can you stand it?"
	"We mere mortals get by quite nicely, thank you very much."
	"Ugh... this stuff is vile. Like, it makes me realise why I never became a coffee drinker in the first place."
	"Well, keep drinking. To a toon, black coffee is pure sobriety."
	"So why didn't you get... drunk?"
	"I had something to eat before I came here, thought Monty would make it a pay-buffet. As for the Eggnog, I have trouble with ingesting something that reminds me of my birthday."
	She swallowed another bitter mouthful and had to admit, it did seem to be doing it's work. Despite the fact she wanted to hurl from the taste it did help drive away most of the lingering effects of her hangover. Tonight had been full of surprises. She would never have guessed that this evening she'd get drunk, get a hangover, get sober and all the while not have to worry about Plucky getting fresh with her. If anything it had been her that suffered a case of 'Roman Hands' and 'Russian Fingers'. One particular line of Plucky's did stick in her mind though.
	He said that he never wanted to disappoint her.
	It was said in such a casual manner but it reverberated in her skull like the vibrations of a tuning fork. Then she remembered what had come before that... He told her, "I never wanted to hurt anyone I loved like that again."
when he was saying how he had disappointed them. Could it be that Plucky actually... no... the thought was too outlandish. Sure Plucky was acting slightly out of character tonight but this compassion he was showing her wasn't love. Was it?
	She had to know. As much as she didn't want to ask she had to know.
	"Like, Plucky?"
	"Yes Shirley?"
	"I was like, thinking... and I like, remembered, I mean... I suppose that you totally... that is... Doyouloveme?"
	Plucky stared at his date as if she had transformed into a three-headed plaid demon of the abyss. His mouth moved but no sound was coming out and for the longest time this awkward moment lingered and Shirley began to feel very uncomfortable for having asked those four little words but then Plucky cleared his throat and answered her.
	"W-With all of my heart, Shirley." 
	Now it was Shirley's turn to stare at Plucky as he stood up and turned his back to her and leaned against the far wall.
	"I had hoped you wouldn't ask me that question until I was ready for it, but, I guess the universe doesn't share my sense of timing."
	"Sense of... like, what are you talking about?"
	"I wanted to give you time to get to know me for who I am. Not what the WB has me pretending to be."
	"Pretending?"
	"Left inside pocket" Plucky said as he made a gesture at his jacket hanging on the chair. "My wallet's there and so is your answer."
	Shirley plucked his wallet out of his jacket and opening it a folded piece of paper fell from it and conveniently into her lap. Placing the wallet aside she opened the paper and realised that what she was holding in her hands was a copy of Plucky's contract with Warner Brothers. Even as her breath caught in her throat Plucky continued to direct her.
	"Second to last paragraph. Sub clause six. The rest is just routine stuff."
	Shirley nodded and began to read the specific lines with a solemn silence. To a toon a contract is always a serious matter and often a private thing. It was one of life's unwritten rules that unless a toon was willing to talk about the conditions in the contract he or she usually were never inquired about it. In essence Shirley was holding Plucky's very life in her hands... then as the text unfolded before her eyes she began to realise how true that was.
	According to the Sub Clause, until his contract ended, Plucky had to remain 'in character' at all times for the sake of believability or risk termination and replacement from the cast. She bit her lower beak as the meaning began to sink in. The Plucky she knew may not even exist outside of Tiny Toons. The young mallard who even now was turning around and looking at her with such pain filled eyes was to all intents an purposes... a total stranger.
	"I didn't know..." Was all she could say as he walked over to her and sat down beside her. "Oh I'm so sorry for all the times I..."
	"That's alright. Even you couldn't have known, our very occupation revolves around illusion. I believe William Shakespeare said it best when he wrote the words... All the world's a stage and all the man and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts."
	"Yeah, but I don't think he ever meant anything like this." 
	"Well, it seems to sum up the current situation. I have my suspicions that I'm not the only one on Tiny Toon Adventures who isn't all that they seem. Don't worry though, I got used to the lightning very quickly. Kinda tingles after a while."
	"So, if-if you're not Plucky then who are you?"
	"Oh, I *AM* Plucky, at least in part. I just reach deep down into myself and find every greedy, egotistical, glory sucking impulse I have and dredge it all to the surface. But I'm also his conscience and his dignity, his compassion and his respect... Every good actor puts a part of himself into his role."
	"Why have you never told me before? I mean you were under a contract but If you wanted to so badly..."
	"I have. Remember how I was at the beginning of the show? I was a Little version of Daffy, but as time went on I developed more and more of a personality. That was me making small changes in Plucky's character, letting more and more of the real me out."
	"So you've been like, dropping hints to me?"
	"Little by little. As time progressed people began to realise that Plucky wasn't as bad as they thought he was. I was hoping that in time, you'd realised that beneath all the innuendo I was flashing at you there was a Duck who absolutely adores you. Then eventually it wouldn't be such a shock when I revealed who I really was."
	"Not the brightest romantic plan I ever heard."
	"Heh, Well... Although Plucky might have declared himself a genius, personally I never made such a claim."
	"Heh heh. Well, the attempt, now that I know about it is kinda sweet."
	"Really?"
	"Yeah. So if you and Plucky are two different people what's your real name?"
	"You're gonna laugh when I tell you."
	"No I won't."
	"Promise?"
	"I totally Promise."
	"Pluckford."
	Shirly snickered and the mallard smirked.
	"See? I told you you'd laugh."
	"Ok It's funny but a snicker is not a laugh... 'Pluckford'. *Snerk*"
	"Fair enough. But please call me Plucky. I've kinda gotten used to the short version of my name."
	"Alright. So... Plucky. Why did you get me all sober now instead of just stuffing me into a cab and shipping me home?"
	Plucky stood up and gasped in shock as he remembered his reasons and grabbing his jacket from the chair then thrust his hands into the arms.
	"OHMIGOSH! I completely forgot about the party! Everyone out there must be as plastered as you were!"
	"How?"
	"It must be the food. I haven't eaten or drank anything yet tonight, but from the line-ups I saw at the tables..."
	Plucky's sentences trailed off as Shirley stood up and opened the door before rushing down the hall with him. 
	"Plucky... I know I must have been hard on you but I just want to say I'd like to give you a chance sometime. Just Pluckford and Shirley, you understand?"
	"I'd like that very much Shirley."
	Plucky heaved the doors to the Gym open and was greeted by utter and total pandemonium. The entire floor was filled with fighting toons that seemed to be content with beating on anyone within arm's reach regardless of friend or foe and all the while the Band played on. Shirl's hand instinctively sought out his and squeezed it as the two avians realised the enormity of the task ahead. 
	"Shirley, I'm scared."
	"Me too..."
	"Are you ready?"
	"No."
	"Me neither. Head for the stage. Our only hope is using the microphones to tell everyone about what Monty did to the food."
	"Monty?"
	"Who else could be behind this?"
	"Right. On three?"
	"On Three." 
	"One... two... THREE!"

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	It only took the quartet five minutes for them to reach Cal's apartment building from the diner. The structure was a seven-floor brownstone along an Acme Acres side street. Cal stepped up to the front doors and began patting his pockets with a worried look on his face.
	"Oh no. No, no, no, no. Please no, not now..."
	"Cal? Are vous alright?"
	"I've lost my keys. No, that's a falsehood. I know exactly where they are. I left my keys on my kitchen table."
	The four toons groaned as Cal pressed his face against the tiny glass window on the door in frustration. Furrball cleared his throat catching everyone's attention.
	"Well, perhaps I can be of assistance. I don't entertain much but my place is just around the corner."
	Skunk, Human and Coyote all paused a moment as what Furrball said settled in. Their friend had made a sincere offer but they knew that his home was a large cardboard box. They had a choice, turn him down and possibly hurt his feelings or take up on his offer and huddle together for a half hour or so in conditions not much better than the steps they were standing on. Fifi was the first to speak.
	"I always wanted to see vous home, monsieur Furrball, lead ze way."
	"Alright, Furrball. Count me in." Agreed Mary.
	"Lead the way my friend." Said Cal as he fell in behind the others.
	The four walked around the back of the building and there against the wall was Furrball's classic cardboard box. It looked just like it did on the show and it's owner ducked inside with practiced ease.
	"It's... very nice Furrball, but are you sure all of us can fit in there?"
	Furrball's head popped out of the opening and he grinned at Mary like a snake oil salesman.
	"Shame on you Mary, don't you realise that it's not the outside but what's inside that counts? Watch and be astounded."
	Mary, Cal and Fifi all peered into the box and watched as Furrball pulled the back sheet of cardboard free revealing a trap door of an old coal-chute in the back of the old building. The feline produced a ring of keys out of the folds of his coat and immediately slipped one into an all but hidden keyhole in the door causing it to swing open with well-oiled ease. The other toons were aghast as he beckoned to them to follow as he vanished into the inky darkness. After a moment of hesitation Cal nodded and followed his friend, then Fifi and finally Mary.
 
 	The quartet stood in total darkness, their eyes glowing bright white in the classic toon manner (save Cal's, which for some reason seemed to change to a shade of yellow) even as Furrball closed the trapdoor behind them.
	"Urm... where are we, monsieur Furrball?"
	Suddenly the lights came on, temporally blinding Mary, Fifi and Cal causing them to flinch in shock. It took moments for them to adjust to the surroundings but when they did they were amazed.
	They were in what felt to them was an enormous boiler room. Pipes, wires and gigantic boilers loomed over them and surrounded them, but rather than the drab hues of grey concrete, dusty bricks, rusty iron and corroding copper that one would have expected the room was an explosion of colors. Everywhere they looked, plants filled every nook, cranny and crevice. Flowers of every imaginable type created multi-hued cascades that assaulted everyone's eyes.
	Fifi removed her glasses and wiped the ice-cold lenses to remove the condensation that began to gather upon them the instant she entered the hot damp air of the boiler room/greenhouse. Furrball smiled and exchanged his tattered winter clothing for a simple navy blue turtleneck sweater. Picking up a watering can he began adding water to the dry soil of a Gardenia.
	"What do you think of my home sweet home?"
	"Heavens above, Furrball..." Gasped Cal as his eyes grew twice as large to take in the sight. "They could learn to design cathedrals in here."
	"C'est Magnifique! I did not know vous 'ad such a green thumb."
	"Well, I like surrounding myself with life."
	"I have a question though Furrball"
	"Yes Cal?"
	"How have you been able to live in the boiler room of my apartment building without the landlord finding out?"
	Furrball smiled wryly " Why Cal, have you ever *MET* your Landlord?"
	"Uh, no?"
	Furrball reached out and pumped Cal's hand vigorously and grinned... "You're looking at him."
	Cal stared at his long-time friend as he finally released his hand and opening the door gestured to the others to follow him up the stairs behind it.
	"I know, I know... If I own an apartment building and rich enough to have a Stradivarius why do I pretend to be so poor? The answer is simple. I get to see people for who they really are."
	"You are, 'ow you say, testing everyone?"
	"A little. What better way to see people at their best than to seem completely harmless to them. I've had a chance to see you three at your best and I can honestly say that I am proud to call you my friends."
	"But... you told me you had a thin blanket and a tin of cold soup back at your box. You lied to me."
	"I didn't lie to you Mary. Technically I live behind that box, that room's hot enough for me to only need a thin blanket. As for that tin of cold soup it easily becomes a pot of hot soup when you are willing to do a little cooking."
	"So, what do you do with the spare change people give you when you play your heart out on a street corner?"
	"I give it all to people who need it more than I do. I just do it in a round about way. Anonymous drop offs at churches, missions, charities and because of my 'viewpoint' on the street I can also see who needs it the most."
	The four stepped out of the stairwell on the third floor and had walked halfway down the hallway when one of the doors opened and a middle-aged hedgehog woman stepped out and seemed surprised to see Furrball.
	"M-Mister Bartholomew! I... I didn't expect to see... I mean... I-I'm sorry I'm late with the rent but things have been awful tight this year and if I could only have a little more time..."
	Furrball held up his paw, instantly silencing her stuttering before speaking in a firm steady tone.
	"Well, Mrs Quarrel. Since you know that you have fallen behind in your rent you know I have to take drastic measures."
	"Oh Please, Mr Bartholomew! It's Christmas!"
	"I am well aware of the season Mrs Quarrel. I am also aware that it is snowing quite heavily outside and that Mrs. Melnick's apartment, on level four needs a coat of paint. If you could arrange for your two teenaged boys and daughter to deal with these things I will grant you an extension on your rent payment." 
	Mrs Quarrel looked so relieved she was about to cry and grasped Furball's hand pumping it furiously. 
	"Thank you! Oh bless you Mr Bartholomew."
	"It's Christmas, Mrs Quarrel. Did you truly believe I was about to cast you out on the street? Wish Michael, Pierce and Sandra a Merry Christmas for me, and tell them that I have paint and shovels waiting for them."
	"I will, Merry Christmas Mr Bartholomew."
	Furrball led his friends down the hall to Cal's apartment leaving Mrs Quarrel to retreat back into her own home. As Furrball slid his key into Cal's lock and let everyone in, Cal chuckled.
	"What?"
	"You don't look like a Bartholomew."
	"And you don't look like a Caleb, so we're even."
	"Sorry but I've known you as Furrball for so long I can't see you as Bartholomew."
	"Then keep calling me Furrball... I never got the hang of being called Bartholomew."
	"At least eet is more obvious where you put your money now zat I 'ave seen you as a Landlord. You do zat sort of theeng often?"
	"What? The barter of extensions? Only when it's necessary, like Mrs Quarrel. Widowed at 36 and three teenagers to raise on her own, she deserves a few breaks. I try to be fair with my tenants; those who can pull their weight get some slack. Of course I've had a few who abused the system but I refuse to let a few bad seeds ruin it for everyone so I gave them the boot. I hate it when I have to put my foot down like that but I have to be fair to everyone."
	Cal hung his scarf up on the coat rack in his front hall and shook the snow from his shoes stepped into the next room followed by his friends who stopped short in shock. Most of his apartment looked a lot like what they expected. There was a long table filled with electronic equipment and a small workshop complete with metal and woodworking tools sitting under the windows of the east wall. There was a couch and a large entertainment centre facing off against one another between the north and south walls... but the west wall shocked them. 
	Hanging from hooks on the wall and piled up on the floor were musical instruments. Scores of musical instruments, everything from Accordions to Zithers seemed to be against that wall. To the three toons it looked as if an orchestra had just left everything in Cal's apartment.
The young coyote had not yet noticed the fascination in the eyes of his friends and was already in the kitchen rooting around in his cupboards.
	"You guys want something to drink? I have some soda and milk in the fridge, I can always make coffee... or Hot Chocolate."
	"Uh, soda will be fine Cal." Said Furrball as he slid his hands across the fine wood of a Harpsichord.
	"Soda pour moi, sil vous plait."
	"Same here"
	The Trio looked over the instruments, picking them up and looking them over when Calamity finally emerged with the drinks. Without even looking at them he placed each full glass of cola on the small coffee table in front of the couch, giving the cat, human and skunk the few precious moments they needed to quietly put the instruments back and act innocent of any curiosity.
	"Sooo..." Said Mary picking up her drink "You're a Canadian. Eh? How's that working out for you?" 
	Mary slapped her forehead as the realisation of how stupid a comment she made settled in. Fortunately Cal took it in good humour and merely chuckled before pulling a photo album off of his entertainment centre and opening it on the Coffee table.
	"Relax, Mary. You're not the first person to say something like that. Actually being Canadian is quite pleasant. Here. Let me show you some photos. This is Newfoundland, my home province."
	"Is zat Ze Ocean or a lake?"
	"Ocean. We're one of the Maritimes provinces. A lot of fishing goes on over there. We work hard and we play hard."
	"I got a question, Cal..."
	"What is it, Furrball?"
	"I thought you were, I dunno, Mexican maybe? I mean when you were having that flashback with Wile E. the mailbox said 'Los Coyotes'."
	"Heheheh... That wasn't my mailbox and for the record those weren't my parent's legs you saw. You see... back when I joined up they... uh... fell in love with my face. Said I had that 'Youthfully exuberant/whipped puppy' look they were seeking. The problem was my voice."
	"Pardonnez moi, What was wrong with your voice?"
	"Let's just say that the Newfoundland accent I had back then puts your French one to shame. They could hardly understand me in the try-outs, fortunately Wile E. had established Coyotes as mostly mute creatures anyways so I was paid extra to keep my mouth shut. As for the 'Los Coyotes' thing, most people automatically associate coyotes with hot desert backdrops and let's face it... most people think Canada is a frozen wasteland."
	Mary nodded and looked over the pictures and pointed at a shot of about a dozen grey coyotes standing on a fishing boat. 
	"Is this your family?"
	"Just the immediate family. Me, Mom, Dad, Uncle Shamus, my sisters and brothers..."
	"Zut alors... zey are huge!"
	"I told you we were a bigger breed."
	"Arnie better start treating you better. When you hit that growth spurt you'll be able to cream him."
	The laughter was welcome among the group but as Calamity sat down a tear rolled down the side of his face. Fifi was the first to notice.
	"Calamity, are vous alright?"
	"Me? Sure... right as rain. I just remembered that I chose to be here. Not that I regret spending this time with the three of you it's just..."
	"Look Cal, if it's really bothering you so much right now then why didn't you go in the first place?"
	Calamity looked at Furrball and smirked.
	"It's kinda stupid really. I was feeling pretty... isolated this Christmas so what do I do? I decline the opportunity to take comfort with my family."
	"Why did vous decide to stay 'ere rather than go home?"
	"I don't know... perhaps it's because, when I'm back home surrounded by friends and family, singing and dancing Christmas away in a good old fashioned Kylie... it makes it that much harder to come back here. Where I'm only occasionally acknowledged. A place where 99 percent of the time I feel... alone."
	Human, Skunk and Feline all stared at the young Coyote as if seeing him for the first time. Then almost as if they had rehearsed it they surrounded him and hugged him close.
	"Hey, Cal... You don't have to be alone here."
	"Bartholomew... I mean Furrball's right. Tonight we're all family."
	"Oui, I sink we all could use some family tonight... after all eet is Noel, No?"
	Without warning Cal scooped everyone up into a hug and squeezed them with genuine feeling. And strangely enough, they weren't crushed comically in his arms as comic eventuality dictated but rather, they hugged him back.
	"You guys are the best friends a coyote could ever have. Thanks."
	"No problem Grey... I only have one question though."
	"What's that?"
	"What's with all the musical instruments?"

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	As Plucky led her through the rolling ocean of people Shirley could only gape at the violence around her.
	Toon violence was a way of life in Warner world, but this was unlike any thing she had ever seen. Madness surrounded her, the expressions of total bloodlust on everyone's faces. Everybody was fighting every one else, not caring who they lashed out at. If she and Plucky couldn't get to the stage someone was bound to get seriously hurt.
	Although not having her powers made her feel small and defenceless, part of her was thankful that she couldn't feel the emotional tempest that raged around her.
	They had managed to get halfway to the stage when hands clutched at her, dragging her back by her hair and dress. Even as her hand slipped out of Plucky's she called out to him only to have her voice lost between the roar of the crowd and the band playing on stage.
	The cold hard reality of the gym's concrete wall filled her thoughts as her back was slammed against it but that reality was swiftly displaced by another. The reality of five svelte, female swans surrounding her. Each one dressed to kill and with murder in her eyes.
	The pounding of her own heart seemed to drown out everything else in the gym. Giselle, Jasmine, Janice, Janine and Jessica were fellow students from her old ballet class. And for some reason after their public recital of Swan Lake they all hated her with a terrible passion.
	Giselle said something that Shirley couldn't hear but the swing of her fists was easy to comprehend. Even without her psychic powers Shirley still remembered those ballet lessons. As she bobbed and swooped among the drunken flurry of blows, from Giselle and her cronies, she knew she had to do something or she would eventually get hurt, so she did something she thought she would never do...she clenched her fists, and fought back.
	
#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	Grovelly watched passively as his young employer cackled while watching the massive brouhaha from the safety of "Backstage". He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself; he certainly went to enough trouble to make the conditions perfect. The Loud music, the alcohol soaked foods, the garish decorations and especially the presence of the students of Perfecto Prep. Despite his protests, that was not a coincidence.
	Finally the coup-de-gras arrived. Monty stood up and tilting his head slightly upwards gave the order.
	"Do it Grovely. Just like we agreed."
	It was not a well-known fact but Grovely in his youth was quite the pugilist. Perhaps not quite Golden Gloves calibre, but he was referred to as 'Gunshot Grovely', due to the speed of his left jab. Many a man in the amateur boxing circuit was laid flat on his back by that signature move... and now his master wanted him to hit him. 
	It was a servant's duty to fulfill any requests that might be made of them, no matter how eccentric they might be. In this particular case, Grovely had been told by Monty to hit him at the appropriate time and place. Five solid punches was the amount agreed upon at the time and now was the moment. 
	The years had not been kind to Grovely in the looks department but he still retained a great quantity of his vitality. Four solid punches landed on Montanna Max's chin, cheeks and his left eye. The Final fifth punch was a roundhouse that knocked the maladjusted munchkin flat on his back. 
	It took a minute for Monty to get back up again but after looking in his hand mirror at the bruises he grinned.
	"Good work Grovely, with these bruises I'm not *completely* above suspicion. You can have that shovel for cleaning out the stables."
	"You are most generous, sir."
	It was not a servant's place to question his employer's sanity, nor his orders; it was however a matter of personal choice to keep one's mouth shut about how they would have carried out an order without payment.


#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#
	 
	"I just can't believe it." Mused Mary as she gingerly moved a French horn aside to get at an intricately engraved mandolin behind it. "And you say all of this stuff is playable?"
	"Oh yes. I crafted each and every one of these instruments from scratch. Actually the hardest one to make was the bagpipes."
	"Why would those be harder than anything else."
	"Well, do you know the difference between Bagpipes and onions?"
	"Uh... no, I don't."
	"Well, simply put, nobody cries when you chop up Bagpipes."
	Groans erupted from the group as the bad pun sank in and it was only when the pain wore off that they dared look at the coyote again.
	"And this, ladies and germs, is my personal pride and joy."
	Calamity stood there before the others, wearing the contraption. A large backpack-like box rested upon his back, it's deep oak finish contrasting the series of brass pipes sticking from the top. Two 'arms' flanked the coyote leading from the unit to end in front of him in two keyboards at the perfect level for his hands to rest upon. He smiled at the others.
	"Well?" He asked. "What do you think?
	"Those keys better not be Ivory." Mary said in a warning tone
	"Don't worry yourself Mary. No animals were harmed in the making of this instrument... unless you count the splinters and bruised fingers I had to endure. The keys are White Ash and Jet, the casing Oak, the pipes are a brass based alloy and various internal mechanisms vary between wood, plastic and metal."
	"Ces't tres bien! I did not know vous had so many talents."
	"Actually only one in ten of my inventions work the way I want it to... the only thing I can do on a regular basis is make them look good."
	"Does this thing work?" Said Furrball, a hint of a smirk flickering upon his lips. Something Calamity caught and recognised it's source.
	"Like a dream Furrball, and before you say anything let me warn you, one smart comment about this thing and you'll live to regret it."
	"Heaven forbid, Cal. I would never make fun of another toon's organ."
	Fifi lovingly strummed her fingers across the strings of a small harp and smiled at the perfect notes that fell from the instrument. 
	"Calamity, per'aps you have missed your calling in life. Do you know what people would pay for these instruments?"
	"Do... do you really think they're that good?"
	"Are you kidding?" Laughed Mary as she swung a guitar into her arms and played a short scale. "These are great! As good as anything I've seen in a store and they're in tune too."
	"Then they're yours."
	"What?"
	"Excuse moi?"
	"Eh?"
	"Please, take whatever ones you want. Consider them my Christmas presents to you."
	"But Calamity..." Fifi said looking at the intricate engraving along the wood of the harp. "Zese are so beautiful, you must have spent days on ze designs alone."
	"I had a lot of free evenings. Nothing would make me happier than my friends enjoying my hard work."
	"What can we say, Cal, but thanks."
	Furrball picked up a small wooden harmonica and slipped it into his violin case while Mary played about with her new guitar. She leaned against the wall and picked the strings to a playful jazz tune a faint smile tugging at her lips.
	Mary's tune became less playful and more wistful as it evolved into 'Oh Christmas Tree'. Fifi's fingers began to play her harp of their own accord, accompanying the song, followed by Calamity and Furrball on the back organ and Violin. The room was filled nothing but with music, the three young toons playing in perfect harmony till the end of the song. 
	When the last note had died away, Furrball looked about confusedly and spoke.
	"Wow... what was that?"
	"I, don't know." Said Cal running his hand across his chest. "It felt... like..."
	"It felt good." Said Mary, a full-blown smile spreading across her face. "Does anyone else know any Christmas songs?"


#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	

	Plucky pushed his way through the melee, trying his hardest to reach the stage and the microphones up there. He allowed himself a sardonic smile when he realized that this would have been easier if he and Shirl would've kept close to the walls instead of ploughing through the middle of the crowd. Oh well... hindsight is 20/20 after all.
	It was at that moment he felt Shirley's fingers slip from his grasp. Turning his head he saw her being dragged off into the throng by a Quintet of swans and for a heartbeat he was torn between going back for her, or continuing forward to end all the madness at once. It was one heartbeat too long.
	Out of the mess of people Danforth Drake charged at him, slamming his own body against his and knocking him further away from his beloved Shirl. Of all the people here to attack him why was it Danforth? His memories of Toon Psycho-physics class shoved the answer to the forefront of his brain. Opposites attract, like charges repel... and Toony counterparts were like and opposites combined. They would irresistibly be drawn to one another and would, at the same time, instinctively seek to oppose them.
	"DANFORTH!" he cried over the musical cacophony of the band, "DON'T DO THIS, WE'RE BEING MANIPULATED BY..."
He never had a chance to finish. Danforth's repeated blows to his face prevented him from even getting another word out. Apparently Danforth still bore a grudge over the "betrayal" at the Acme Bowl.
	There was however one advantage to this beating; it was pushing Plucky in the right direction. He did not, however, enjoy being anyone's punching bag. It didn't matter that he had the training to take tremendous blows to the head, he didn't have to like it though, and he certainly didn't have to take it.
	The next blow that Danforth directed at him was intercepted, seized at the wrist by Plucky's desperate fingers. Meaning to execute a simple Judo-throw the green mallard pulled back on it. The other waterfowl, already off balance from the alcohol, pitched forward wildly, staggering past Plucky at high velocity and careening wildly into the great chrome and neon Christmas tree.
	The monolith of metal and light swayed violently from the collision then began to tilt precariously to the left. Over thirty feet of glass and chrome slammed into the gymnasium wall creating an explosion of brick and mortar. When the dust settled everyone had passed from their fighting to stare at the gaping chasm in the side of the building. The treelike sculpture had punched a gigantic hole through the wall and as blowing snow and the frosty air flowed over the young males and females, they did the first thing that came to mind. 
	To avoid being blamed, they began fighting once again.  

#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#	#

	With Roddy pinned underneath his grasp, Buster raised his hand up high, a broken table leg clutched between his fingers when all of a sudden... he heard something. His attention deviated from it's murderous course attracted by the strand sound that somehow permeated the caphony violence around him. One by one the other toons also noticed this new... insistent sound and one by one they broke off from their individual fights, seeking this aural intruder. 
	Icy air filled with fat fluffy flakes poured in through the gap in the wall where the tree had fallen and all heads turned to that same hole as a quartet of voices wafted through on that same chill wind. 
	Furrball, Fifi, Calamity and Mary walked slowly up the street towards the gym, each with an instrument in their hands each finishing the last refrain of a song. Whatever that song had been was lost to the snow they walked through but Mary plucked at the guitar strings a simple tune and began into an unfamiliar song but her three companions somehow knew the words and joined in.


Christmas in the Trenches

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool.
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.
 
'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.
 
I was lying with my mess mate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.
 
"He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me
 Soon, one by one, each German voice joined in harmony
 The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
 As Christmas brought us respite from the war.
 
 As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
 "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent
 The next they sang was "Stille Nacht." "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I
 And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.

"There's someone coming toward us!" the front line sentry cried
 All sights were fixed on one long figure trudging from their side
 His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shown on that plain so bright
 As he, bravely, strode unarmed into the night.
 
 Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's Land
 With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
 We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
 And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell.

We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
 These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
 Young Sanders played his squeezebox and they had a violin
 This curious and unlikely band of men.
 
Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each prepared to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"

'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost, so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone forevermore.
 
My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War I, I've learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.


	The words struck home far truer than any bullet and the toons couldn't help but realise what they had done, and what they had become. Fists unclenched, grips were relaxed and a terrible sickly feeling of shame washed over the crowd. They couldn't believe that everything had gotten so bad so quickly; they couldn't even wrap their minds around what they were about to do to each other.
	There was a long awkward silence between everyone as they struggled desperately to find the right words... to find some way to apologise to each other for their actions that night, something that could be said that would make everything all right but nothing came to mind. 
	Then Calamity's fingers pressed gently across the keyboard and a new song filled the air. Even as the four carollers lifted their voices to the dishevelled crowd, Buster felt the words rise unbidden in his throat as he turned to Babs and she to him. 
	 

The Greatest Gift of All

Dawn is slowly breaking
Our friends have all gone home
You and I are waiting
For Santa Claus to come

There's a present by the tree
Stockings on the wall
Knowing you're in love with me
Is the greatest gift of all

The fire is slowly fading
Chill is in the air
All the gifts are waiting
For children ev'rywhere

Through the window I can see
Snow begin to fall
Knowing you're in love with me
Is the greatest gift of all

Just before I go to sleep
I hear a church bell ring
Merry Christmas ev'ryone
Is the song it sings

So I say a silent prayer
For creatures great and small
Peace on earth goodwill to men
Is the greatest gift of all

Peace on earth goodwill to men
Is the greatest gift of all

	The spirit began to spread and even as Buster and Babs embraced one another, Roderick and Rhubella copied the action with each other. From the shadows Plucky stepped forwards. His right eye had changed to a bright purple from the punch he took from Giselle and he supported Shirley as she limped along beside him but it didn't seem to matter as he began to sing a more joyous tune that was quickly caught by the quartet.

Christmas In Killarney

The holly green, the ivy green
The prettiest picture you've ever seen
Is Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

It's nice, you know, to kiss your beau
While cuddling under the mistletoe
And Santa Claus you know, of course
Is one of the boys from home

The door is always open
The neighbours pay a call
And Father John before he's gone
Will bless the house and all

How grand it feels to click your heels
And join in the fun of the jigs and reels
I'm handing you no blarney
The likes you've never known
It's Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home.

	The music assaulted Monty's ears, each note almost painful for him to listen to. Even as the toons began to sing 'Silver Bells' his memory betrayed him, repeating Christmas after empty Christmas before his eyes. 
	Since the day his parents won the lottery something seemed to go missing from their celebrations. It was after that first excess-laden Christmas that he sued them for all of their millions, just because they made him eat Brussel sprouts. Then after his failed attempt to become the most popular kid at the Looniversity they snuck up and counter sued him for emotional anguish. Since then their family lives seemed to reach a delicate balance. They'd sue each other occasionally but there was a sort of affectionate tolerance the rest of the time. 
	Now after all of this time, Christmases have evolved into a sort of season to be avoided. He stayed at home while his parents went off on separate vacations off in warmer climbs. The three would have elaborate Christmas dinners... half a globe apart, and they would exchange gifts... by courier. 
	His tears fell like diamonds, freezing before they struck the cold concrete, shattering like delicate Ming porcelain. 
	All of his awful wonderful plans to ruin Christmas for everyone else were ruined. Despite his best efforts... the spirit prevailed. More and more toons were singing, their voices adding to the improvised choir... and now there was one more.
	Montana Max found himself singing Silver Bells with everyone else his own voice blending in with the whole. He tried to stop but he couldn't, and even more astonishing was that he didn't want to. Something inside of him was swelling and filling that empty Christmas void and for the first time in a long time... he felt good.

SILVER BELLS

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style,
In the air there's a feeling of Christmas.
Children laughing, people passing, meeting smile after smile,
And on every street corner you hear

     Silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmastime in the city.
     Hear the bells go ding-a-ling, hear them ring,
     Soon it will be Christmas day.

Strings of street lights, even stop lights blink a bright red and green
As the shoppers rush home with their treasures.
Hear the snow crunch, see the kids bunch, this is Santa's big scene,
And above all this bustle you hear

     Silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmastime in the city.
     Hear the bells go ding-a-ling, hear them ring,
     Soon it will be Christmas day.

	Vinnie tapped Calamity on the shoulder and tilted his head at the apparatus on his back. Cal could only smile as he slipped out of the straps and helped the deer in putting the cumbersome organ on. At first he was unsure what song a mild womanizer like Vinnie would play but after his three-fingered hands began to tickle the 'ivories' in a slow simple tune he realised he had nothing to fear. And joined in with Vinnie's tenor vocalisations.

THE HOLLY AND THE IVY

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.

O the rising of the sun,
And the running of the deer,
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the choir.

The holly bears a blossom
As white as lily flower;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To be our sweet Savior.

The holly bears a berry
As red as any blood;
Any Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To do poor sinners good.

The holly bears a prickle
As sharp as any thorn;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
n Christmas day in the morn.

The holly bears a bark
As bitter as any gall;
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
For to redeem us all.

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown.

	It was then that Fifi stepped forwards, the music once again instinctively knowing her feelings and giving her the chance to sing the words she and many others found hard to say. 

	I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love-light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

	Her voice cracked on the last few syllables as the memory of her Father and sisters came back. The knowledge that she was so far away from them, dragging tears from her eyes. Even as she sobbed into her muffler, Calamity wrapped his arms about her in a comforting embrace.
	Realising the need for a lighter mood without losing the subject entirely, Furrball exchanged his violin with Mary's Guitar and leapt into the lamplight. His shabby winter clothes transforming into a white jumpsuit covered in rhinestones. He grinned and began to play what he felt was right for the moment.

BLUE CHRISTMAS

I'll have a blue Christmas without you;
I'll be so blue thinking about you.
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree
Won't mean a thing if you're not here with me.
I'll have a blue Christmas, that's certain;
And when that blue heartache starts hurtin',
You'll be doin' all right with your Christmas of white,
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas.

	The mood lightened somewhat by Furrball's semi-serious antics and Fifi seemed rejuvenated and plucking at the strings of her harp began to sing once more. Her voice still with traces of sadness but now filled with hope and comfort that she was with good friends and good will was flowing like a spring.
	
IL EST NÉ

Il est né, le divin Enfant,
Jouez, hautbois, résonnez, musettes;
Il est ne, le divin Enfant;
Chantons tous son avènement!

Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous le promettaient les Prophètes;
Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous attendions cet heureux temps.
    Il est né, le divin Enfant...

Ah! qu'll est beau, qu'il est charmant,
Que ses grâces sont parfaites!
Ah! qu'll est beau, qu'll est charmant,
Qu'il est doux le divin Enfant!
     Il est né, le divin Enfant...

Une etable est son logement,
Unpeu de paille, sa couchette,
Une etable est son logement,
Pour un Dieu, quel abaissement!
     Il est né, le divin Enfant...

Ô Jésus!  Ô Roi tout puissant!
Tout petit enfant que vous êtes,
Ô Jésus!  Ô Roi tout puissant!
Régnez sur nous entièrement!
     Il est né, le divin Enfant...

	The spirit spread through the crowd, and strangely enough Perfecto's own 'Terrible Trio' Rhubella Rat, Margot Mallard and Enna Scent pulled their dates to the front of the group and began to sing, the rest of their Alma Mater picking up on the cue. Their voices were eerily cheerful in comparison to what they were like the rest of the year but in this moment there was no difference between them and the Acme Looniversity students.

HERE WE COME WASSAILING

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a wand'ring,
So fair to be seen.

Love and joy come to you,
And to your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you a happy new year,
And God send you a happy new year.

We are not daily beggars
Who beg from door to door,
But we are neighbor's children
Whom you have seen before.

Love and joy come to you,
And to your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you a happy new year,
And God send you a happy new year.

We have a little purse
Made of ratching leather skin;
We want some of your small change
To line it well within.

Love and joy come to you,
And to your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you a happy new year,
And God send you a happy new year.

God bless the Master of this house,
Likewise the Mistress too;
And all the little children
That round the table go.


	

	Calamity reached over and plucked the small sprig of mistletoe off of Vinnie's antler and blushed fiercely as he dangled it above Fifi.
	"Oops... Look Fifi. Mistletoe."
	"Why monsieur Coyote... are vous trying to kees moi?"
	The young coyote shrugged bashfully as he leaned in closer.
	"I gotta kiss you. It's the law."
	"Well zen..." Purred Fifi as she wrapped her arms about Cal, pulling his body close to hers. "We cannot break ze law, can we?"
	Their lips met and although the snow around them did not turn to steam, a significant one-foot circle around them did melt considerably. When the kiss was finally broken off Calamity grinned and Fifi blushed.
	"And to think I was always too shy to kiss you before."
	"I sink... it was worth the wait mon petit Musketeer."
	"You, saw that?"
	"I sink you are a wonderful and talented artiste Caleb Coyote."
	"And... on occasion, I do get my more 'technical' endeavours right."
	Cal then held his wrist up to Fifi and her breath caught in her throat. There on his wrist was a small watch-sized TV. On the screen was her Father and Sisters waving to her.
	"Josephine!" her sisters cried. "Joyeux Noël! "
	"Joyeux Noël, mon petite femme raisin! A votre patron aussi."
	"Oh Papa, oh mes soeurs! Oh ces't tres Joyeux Noël! Caleb, 'ow did you do zis?"
	"While we were at my place it occurred to me that if your father owned a vineyard he must have a computer for accounts and the like, and I made a leap of faith he might have a web cam attached. With a little cross circuiting I've finally been able to patch a line through to your family in France. My French is a little weak but fortunately your father has an excellent grasp of English and we were able to work out a compromise."
	"Heh. monsieur Coyote zere is 'ow ze Americans say... 'footing ze bill' for ze call?"
	"Oh Caleb!"
	Fifi's lips once again came down on Cal's... the kiss however succeeded where the last did not, by vaporising the snow around them into gouts of steam. Fifi's sisters 'oohed' at the sight, clearly impressed at their sister's ability, her father on the other hand merely sighed.
	"Ah, L'amour... to be young and in love once again."

	Hamton suddenly embraced Buster and Babs, crying as he hugged then close. "I'm sorrrrry!" He wailed, "I didn't mean what I said... I didn't wanna hurt you but I... I couldn't..."
	Babs and Buster smiled and hugged their friend
	"S'ok Hammy... No harm done."
	"Happy Hanukah, Hamton."
	"Merry Christmas, you two."
 
	The trill electronic notes of 'Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer' interrupted the touching moment and caused everyone to turn to see Vinnie checking a glossy red and gold pager at his hip. He smirked and kissed each of his two dates on the cheek.
	"My apologies, everyone. I've been beeped and I have to run."
	"Aww..." moaned Bimbette as she gave the young buck a hug. "Do you really have to go now? The party's finally feeling like a party."
	"Sorry Bimbette, but duty calls. Merry Christmas everybody! Keep the spirit alive."
	And with that Vinnie looked to the skies gave a great leap into the air...and didn't come back down. He swooped and he soared off into the snowy clouds, laughing all the way leaving all the toons looking up in amazement with their jaws dropped into the snow, Buster and Babs especially.
	"Woah! Vinnie can fly."
	"Who knew?"

	Mary Melody smiled, as she looked out at all the happy cheerful faces. The sight of all these different people who were now looking past their differences and simply being wrapped up in the spirit of things, caused her to begin to cry. This was something that was not lost on Furrball.
	"Looks like everyone is getting what they need for Christmas, tonight."
	"*sniff* Yeah, it's beautiful."
	"Guess what Santa Cat's got in his bag for you, young lady. Ho Ho Ho."
	"Huh?"
	"I've been looking around since we first got here. Somehow, with the big tree-thing sticking out the side of the wall of the Gym and all of the limping and bruised people standing around singing, I'm thinking the Party wasn't going as well as Monty expected."
	"Oh my, You-you're right."
	"I also realised that perhaps some of these injuries need a little more than Christmas Spirit to take the sting out of them. I called the Hospital on my cell phone and they're sending a few people over to help out. Dr Melody and Dr Melody, I believe."
	"You... You mean they're coming. Mom and Dad'll be here?"
	"Yes. They will."
	"Thanks Furrball." She said hugging him. "You're one of a kind"
	"Hey, it's Christmas. No one should ever have to be separated from family on Christmas."

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Gogo Dodo :		Frank Welker
Vinnie The Deer:	Wesley Snipes
Binky Bunny :	Tress MacNeille, I think
Roderick Rat :	Charles Adler
Rhubella Rat :	Tress MacNeille
Danforth Drake :	Charlie Adler 
Fowlmouth :		Rob Paulsen
Montana Max: 	Danny Cooksey
Babs Bunny :	Tress MacNeille
Buster Bunny :	John Kassir
Fifi LaFume :	Kath Souci
C