TTA: THE BLOOMIN' LOONIES Created and written by Jennifer Cleckley (RottinKid@aol.com), hashed out and hammered here and there by that hack, Jerry D. Withers (Furrball T. Cat)(jwithers@tcfn.org) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUTHORS' NOTES: Jerry: "Gee, RK, I can't think of a thing." Jennifer: "This story's in trouble already." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE BLOOMIN' LOONIES $4.95 (Marked down from $9.98): "THE SOUND OF CARROTTES" (v1.2) -0- It was a Friday night like any other Friday night. The students of Acme Loo were gathering for the first-ever Acme/Perfecto Prep student dance, reflecting on events of the previous month, a month unlike any other they could recall. Acme and Perfecto had beaten each other senseless to a tie score in their first meeting of the year; and while nothing much was settled, football-wise, other things were taken care of just fine, thank you; not the least of which, Perfecto had been wrenched away from the greedy mitts of both Montana Max and Bobbo Acme by one Mr. Harry Purrenstein, who in turn, handed it over to the least likely candidate, Rhubella Marie Rat, who in turn, handed it back over to the state of Cartoon California; Harry's daughter RuBarb had survived her own set of personal crises; and the cute little mink, Miranda, had finally been freed from her wheelchair, even if it did cost her the hearing in her left ear. As well as some other things which take too long to recap here; not the least of which, was the long-awaited arrival of two new members of the Acme Acres community - namely, Sir Rupert Carrotte, and his wife, Lillian Bunny Carrotte. It was hard to say who awaited them more: their kids (the rockin' aggrava - er - aggregation known collectively as "The Bloomin' Loonies"), or Lillian's niece Lola Bunny (who, now that the parents had arrived, could finally shoo their kids out of her house once and for all!). The three were gathered outside the Acme Loo band room where their instruments were stored, just before setting up for the dance. "What in the world could be keeping them?" Lizbeth Carrotte had wondered anxiously. She was wearing blue denim shorts and a "Sailor" tour shirt. "Nigel, I thought you said they just got into town!" "I did," her adopted brother Nigel (an albino rat) replied. "They said they were coming over straight from the airport." "'Ow, by snail?" asked Lizzy's twin brother Lionel Carrotte with a grin. He was dressed like Lizzy, except he was wearing an "Actually, I like THE MOTORS!" shirt. The question was answered very quickly, to everyone's amazement, when a helicopter painted like a Union Jack and bearing the word "Virgin" on its tail set down just a few feet from them! The draft created by the rotors was enough to slam the trio against the building with, of course, an accompanying blast of trumpets. As the bearded pilot turned off the machine, two rabbits hopped out (literally). "Thanks for the lift, Sir Branson," replied the female of the pair. "Anytime, Lillian, and please, call me Richard," smiled the pilot. "Oh, here," he added, reaching beside his seat and throwing a huge case of cola and a box of CDs to the slightly astonished rabbits. "Well, I must be off now." "Yes," replied Rupert in a voice that sounded something like a cross between Ronald Coleman and Toucan Sam. "Well, if you must, you must..." Looking at the building, he added, "Pardon us, we've got to peel our children off the wall." "If you must, you must," Richard grinned, and took off. The draft from the rotors, of course, pinned the senior Carrottes to the wall as well with a smack and, being toons, an accompanying blast of trumpets. "Ouch," Rupert said blithely. "Mum, was that...?" Liz asked, fascinated. Although she was never one to be impressed with celebrities as a rule, Lizbeth Carrotte did harbor a secret crush on 'Richard'. "Yes, it was," Lillian replied. "How did you manage a ride with _him_?" Leo wondered. "Long story," Lilly answered, in an American accent that was softened with a slight bit of British affectation. "We had to get here straight from the Virgin Megastore where I was doing a book signing, and he just happened to be in there..." "What your mother is trying to say, in a roundabout way, is she bummed a ride," Rupert smiled. "We'll tell you all about it later." "It's his outfit and he just _happened_ to be in there," Leo mused sarcastically. "So, pater, do you _always_ make it a habit to hang around strange schoolyards after hours?" Nigel joked. Rupert glanced wearily at Nigel and said, dryly, "Why do I have the sudden feeling that sending you three to the Colonies was a _huge_ mistake?" "Uh-oh," the rat gulped. Any newcomer who had just happened upon this scene could be forgiven for thinking that Nigel was well and truly up the junction, but the truth of the matter was that Rupert engaged in this sort of banter with his kids all the time back in England. This jolly family reunion would have continued in this manner, were it not for the appearance of yet two more rats. "Hey, guys," Rhubella said cheerfully. "You keep sticking to the wall like that and we'll have to hold the dance outside!" She turned to the other rat and said, "Roddy, be a dear and help me get them down, will you?" "_Must_ I?" he half-smirked, half-sneered in Nige's direction. "All right, Babe, let me get the dynamite..." "RODDY!" Ruby shrieked, freezing him to the spot, with one foot raised (causing him to promptly fall face down). Somehow, just the shrillness of her voice was enough to remove the Carrottes from their predicament. Not to mention, of course, the wall. "Thanks, Ruby," Liz said, as the Carrottes brushed themselves off dutifully. "We needed that... I _think_..." "Glad to help. And these are..." "I'm not sure. We found them in a bus station," Nigel shrugged, as Roddy pulled himself up from the ground. "Ruby... _and_ Roddy... I'd like you to meet our parents. May I present our mum, the world-famous five-star chef, Lillian Carrotte..." "Oh yes, you wrote the book on egg salad, right?" Ruby asked as they shook paws, referring to '101 Ways To Fix Egg Salad For Good.' "You could say that. You've heard of it?" "Only in passing. My friend RuBarb is a big fan of it. She'll want you to autograph her copy, no doubt!" "No doubt," Nigel added. "And of course, this is our father, a man who needs no introduction because he isn't here, Sir Rupert Carrotte..." he continued, taking more than a wee bit of sadistic pleasure in watching Roddy's reaction. "S-s-s-s-_SIR_?" he stammered. "As in 'aristocracy'?" "Do you know any other kind?" Leo asked cheerfully. "Um, no... pleased to make your acquaintance," Roddy said, shaking Sir Rupert's paw as if he were pumping for oil. "Yes," Rupert replied calmly, while trying to shake him off. "I'm sure you are," he added, sounding completely unconvinced. "Of course, you know the legendary Porky Rat," Liz giggled, much to Roddy's chagrin (and Ruby's amusement). "Very droll," Roddy simmered. "Excuse us a minute, won't you?" He quickly pulled Ruby aside. "Babe, did they say '_Sir_ Rupert Carrotte'?" "Last time I heard, yeah. You recognize the name?" "_DO_ I? He's to British banking what Warren Buffett is to Wall Street! Why didn't I make the connection sooner?" Ruby folded her arms and half-closed her eyes. "You're _dense_?" "I _must_ be," he acknowledged. "What in the world is _he_ doing here?" "Oh, come ON!" Ruby offered. "They bought a house from my mother just before the kids showed up at the Loo. They're moving here, remember?" Roddy didn't hear a word she said. Instead, he kept harping on one other subject. "And that must mean those three are royalty as well..." he mused. "Well, I _guess_, although I've never heard any of them mention it. Anyway, I guess you'll treat them with a little more _respect_ from now on..." Rhubella hinted, a "Told ya so" look in her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, right, right," Roddy waved her comment off. "Well, enough of this chittle-chattle," Liz said cheerfully. "We have to get to work, if you can call it that!" Turning to her brothers, she boldly declared, "Gentlemen, our instruments await without!" "Without what?" Lionel asked, scratching his head with his right ear. "Without players if we don't get to them," Nigel grinned. -0- As expected, the concert went over quite well, and even Roddy had to admit (albeit begrudgingly) that The Bloomin' Loonies _were_ better than he thought they'd be. The Carrottes played enough songs to keep everyone up and dancing well past midnight, without repeating a single one of them. Of course, they played "The Shape Of Love," "Run Runaway," and "A Glass Of Champagne", plus their backhanded tribute to a holiday event at their former school, "Boxing Day At Soho Preparatory", which had everyone rolling on the floor, laughing. Nige introduced it as "a loving memento to our former classmates at Soho Prep, and only slightly libelous..." "The day after Christmas in our old school Is something quite perturbing; Y'see, the folks box up their unwanted gifts And give 'em to those they think's more deserving. Funny thing is, the gifts goin' round Are the same ones year after year. Aristo's are playin' a round-robin game That won't end soon, I fear... Oh, it's Boxing Day at Soho Preparatory! The biggest recycling day ever known The same things are exchanged and rearranged, 'Cos nobody wants them to own! Lady Agatha, what can I say about her? For the poor girl is really getting peeved; The tea set she gives away Every Boxing Day She gets back every Christmas Eve!..." They even dredged up Slade's football song, "Give Us A Goal", the lyrics slightly modified for the occasion. (When they added "Making Plans For Nigel," Roddy looked slightly embarrassed, much to Ruby's confusion!) And a splendid time was had by Perfectoid and Acme Loo-ser alike, believe it or not. For some reason, however, whenever it was Lionel's turn to sing, all the female toons in the place went, as Nigel observed, "simply crackers" (much to a certain young female mink's chagrin). The next day being Saturday, Ruby dedicated it to her usual end-of-the- week pursuit: sleeping in. Or at least, she tried to; the noise coming from the house next door kept her awake. "Oh, who in the heck is playing their stereo at _this_ time of day?" she grumbled, shoving a pillow over her head to block out the music, without much success. Finally, she gave up, threw on her favorite oversize t-shirt, and wandered out of her house, after first making sure her kid sister Roberta wasn't the guilty party. Ruby found her dancing in the hall. "Hey, cool music, Sis!" Roberta noted, playing some mean air guitar, which even in her irritated state brought a smile to Ruby. "Yeah," Ruby yawned. "What time is it?" "It's rock and roll!" Roberta answered, either not quite hearing her sister clearly, or just setting her up for one of the oldest jokes in the book. "Duh!" Ruby grimaced briefly. "Anything else?" "Yeah, Mom left a note for you on the table. Something about real estate." Roberta fished it out of her pocket and handed it to her. "Here ya go." "Thanks, Sis." Ruby quickly perused it, stuffed it into her pocket and stepped out her front door. She looked briefly to her left at the home of Daffy and Daphne Duck, but shook that idea off completely. Neither one of them were likely candidates. Which left the house on the right. As she trudged closer to the front door, the music got louder. "Yep, this must be the place," she said, as she pounded on the door. "HEY! DO YOU MIND?!?" she shouted. Immediately, the music stopped. The door opened, and that's when Ruby got a surprise. "LIZZIE?!?" "Oh, hullo, Ruby! Were we too loud?" Liz smiled, joined quickly by her brothers. "A bit, yeah..." she yawned. "I should have _guessed_ it was you guys." "Terribly sorry, old girl," Nigel apologized. "We're used to early morning band practice. We haven't had much chance to do that while at cousin Lola's house, wot with Bethany and all, but now that we're in our own place finally..." "Wait a minute," Ruby said as she realized what this could mean. "You mean _this_ is the house you were gonna move into?" "Something wrong with that?" Liz inquired. "It depends," Ruby replied. "On _what_?" asked Leo. Ruby glanced to her right to see an angry Daffy Duck, feathers well and truly ruffled, storming to her front door. Pointing to the fuming black duck, she noted, "On _that_, for one thing... excuse me..." She hurried back home and caught Daffy just before he opened his beak. "Oh, hi, Prof..." Daffy stared the rat down. "What'th the idea of playing that racket at thith time of the morning? Don't you know we have a noithe ordinanthe in thith neighborhood?" he yelled, jumping to the wrong conclusion, as usual. "You're in thome kinda trouble, girly, that'th all I've got to thay!" "But, Prof, it wasn't me," Ruby countered, protesting her innocence as best she could. "I th'pothe you're going to tell me it wath coming from the houthe next door?" he badgered her. "Actually..." Ruby started, just before the Bloomin' Loonies resumed practicing, "yes." Daffy glared at the Carrottes' house. "Therves me right for letting Daphne talk me into moving into a rethidential dithtrict," he growled, tromping over to the Carrottes without as much as an apology to Ruby. As he got closer, the music got quieter and quieter until there was pure silence. When he got to the front door, he saw it was already opened. "Oh, 'ello, Professor," Lizzy smiled benignly from behind her synthesizer. "Would you tell me what you think of this?" She then hit a rather loud high 'C'. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Daffy screamed, holding his head. "Guess he don't like it, Sis," Nigel observed calmly. When he had recovered sufficiently, Daffy remarked with a strained voice, "You ain't jutht whithtlin' 'Dixthie', brother!" "Okay, okay, we get the hint," Leo said, looking at his watch. "We've 'ad enough practice for one morning, anyway, ay wot?" "That wath _practithe_?" Daffy asked, his voice starting to recover. "Thounded more like 'Jazz at the Wage Thabilization Board'!" "The _what_?" Nigel asked. "Sorry, sir," Lizzy offered contritely. "It's just that back home, we lived in an isolated country estate, so we've never had to deal with neighbours before. We'll try to keep it down from now on." "You'd better," Daffy warned them. "Why practice in the living room, anyway?" Ruby asked. "We didn't have time to properly set up in the rehearsal room," Leo replied, "so we just set it all here after we got home. We _did_ need our _sleep_, after all..." "*NO*!" Ruby said, laying it on thick. "Musicians actually _sleep_? What a novel concept!" Lizzy eyed Ruby dourly. "As you are prone to saying, Rhubella, *HA*, _HA_, ha!" Turning to her brothers, she added, "Well, come on, you lot. Mustn't keep the rehearsal room waiting!" And, quicker than you can read 'War And Peace', the Carrottes had their gear packed up and loaded into an elevator that was there for just that purpose. "You've got an elevator? That'th handy," Daffy observed begrudgingly. "Well, I don't know about _handy_," Nigel replied. "Mum and Da insisted that their new house have a lift, and luckily, this one did." "Speaking of 'Mum and Da'," Ruby inquired, "where are they?" "The noithe thcared them off," Daffy chuckled, regaining his sense of humor. "Oh, Prof, really!" Ruby sighed. "Nothing that convenient, I'm afraid," Leo smiled as he lugged the last piece of his drum kit into the lift. "They just went downtown to look at some more property. See, Mum's thinking of opening up a restaurant like the one she has in London, and Da went with her to negotiate. I think your Mum's handling the deal, Ruby." "Oh, yeah," Ruby mused. "I think I did see a note from Mom saying something to that effect..." "Jutht what Acme Acreth needth, another thub thhop," Daffy lisped sardonically. "Thub thhop?" the Carrottes inquired. "Sub shop," Ruby answered, translating. "Oh... Why _do_ they call them 'sub shops', anyway?" Liz asked. Nigel wriggled his eyebrows. "'Cos so many of them go _under_?" -0- At that very moment, Rupert and Lillian were doing exactly what Leo said they were doing - namely, scouting downtown Acme Acres. "Well," Sir Rupert said impatiently, yet good-naturedly, "it's 9:00, and where's Rhonda?" "Right behind you, Sir Carrotte," Rhonda smiled. "I may be quiet, but I'm punctual." "As I was saying," Rupert corrected himself, "it's 9:00, and there's Rhonda. Good morning, Mrs. Rat, and please call me Rupert. I've had all that formality back in England, and it was enough to drive me up the bloomin' _wall_!" "Very well, if you insist," Rhonda smiled. "But only if you do the same for me." "Wot? Call you 'Rupert'? No, I don't think so..." Lillian rolled her eyes upward in an unspoken commentary on this conversation. "Very well, dear, I get the hint." "So, have you two seen anything you like?" "Sorry, Rhonda, haven't really seen anything that fits our needs, restaurant-wise. Maybe I'm just too picky," Lilly added. "Excuse me?" interjected a fourth voice. "I couldn't help hearing you two. Did I hear you say you were looking for a place to set up shop?" Rupert and Lillian turned around to see that they were being addressed by a pretty gray fembunny. "Um, yes we did, young woman," Rupert said politely, not wishing to seem rude, "but we're perfectly happy with the real estate broker we have now, thank you..." "Oh, hi," Rhonda said, looking up from her portfolio. "I almost didn't recognize your voice! Rupert and Lillian Carrotte, this is Honey Bunny. She teaches American History and Print Media over at the Loo." "I dare say, what an odd place to teach!" Rupert noted with a sly grin on his face. "Wha?" Honey was caught off guard by Rupert's humor. "Oh, no, she meant 'Looniversity'..." "Oh, my error," Rupert apologized. "You see, in England, we use a 'loo' for something else entirely..." "Now, dear," Lilly admonished him, "there's no need to be... Wait a minute... did you say, 'Honey Bunny?'" she added with astonishment. "You've heard of me?" the fembunny extraordinaire asked, equally surprised. "_Heard_ of you? If you're the one I think you are, I've done more than that! You ever remember corresponding with a 'Lilly Bunny'?" "Lilly? Oh, my, yes!" Honey smiled. "We were pen pals back when I was a girl growing up in Carrot Gulch, but we sort of lost track of each other when she moved to England, and..." That's when it hit her. "No! YOU'RE Lilly Bunny... er, Lillian Carrotte? Ohmigosh! I always wondered what had happened to you!" "Likewise. So tell me, did you ever snag Bugs Bunny?" Honey flashed her wedding ring in front of Lilly. "Did I _ever_!" "So help me, I feel like a lamb among wolves," Rupert muttered absently. "Well, this is interesting, I guess," Rhonda chuckled, "but we're still looking for..." "Oh, yes, I'm sorry, Ronnie. Didn't mean to take your job from you or anything!" Honey laughed. "_But_..." Rhonda added, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Well, you know Mr. Bughari?" "You mean that nice man who has the convenience store?" Lilly asked curiously. "That's the one. He was telling me he's got this place over on the corner of McKimson Avenue and Avery Boulevard that he doesn't have any use for, and he's looking to... oh, what's the best way to say this...?" "Unload the turkey?" Rupert grinned. "Now I see where Nigel and Lionel get their sense of humor from," Honey sighed. "I've had a look at it, and it would be _perfect_ for... for... um, what is it you need it for again?" "A used cactus shop," Rhonda remarked dryly. "They want to open up a restaurant... McKimson and Avery, was that? I think I know the place. One moment..." And with that, Rhonda flipped open her cell phone and called her office. "Hello, Mabel? Rhonda. Can you run a quick check and see if we handle some property Mr. Bughari has on McKimson and Avery? I'll hold..." Holding a paw over the receiver, she said, "Hon, I hope you don't expect a cut of the commission for this!" "Naaah, just get them to name an egg salad after me, I'll settle for that... your phone's blinking..." "Huh? Oh, thanks... yeah, Mabel? What did you find out...?" The strawberry blonde rat's jaw nearly dropped. "You're _kidding_! Really?!? Thanks, Mabel. Okay, see you... what's that? The head office has been trying to get in touch with me? Okay, thanks for letting me know. Bye!" Closing up her phone, Rhonda wondered, "Hmmm. What could the head office want on a _Saturday_? Oh, well..." Turning her attention back to the Carrottes, she noted with enthusiasm, "Okay, people, fun time's over, let's do business!" -0- "Well, congratulate me, Ruby!" Rhonda announced as she breezed through the front door of the Rats' suburban abode. "Okay, Mom. Congrats. What for?" "I just closed the biggest sale in my career, that's what for," Rhonda grinned. "Oh, you mean that restaurant Mrs. Carrotte's gonna open up?" "Gee, news sure travels fast around this place, doesn't it?" Rhonda smirked. "That should be good for a hefty commission and a half, shouldn't it?" "It wouldn't surprise me, not that we need the money," the elder Rat stated, as the phone rang. "Oh, I wonder who that could be?... Hello? Rhonda... yes, sir... As a matter of fact, I just... yes... thank you... what's that?" Rhonda's face slowly turned ashen. "How's that again? But... but you can't... I see... you can... yes, well, thank you for letting me know... yes, sir, first thing Monday morning... well, goodbye..." Rhonda hung up the phone as if she were in a daze. And she was, too. "Mom, who was that?" "The head office," she replied, still in a fog. "Well, don't keep me in suspense. What did they say?" "Let's see... they congratulated me on my sale to the Carrottes, thanked me for my hard work and dedication, and then they fired me..." "Oh... *WHAT?!?*" Ruby yelled. "They can't _do_ that!" "Yes, they can," Rhonda sighed. "Just like _that_? But... but how? Why?" "Does the term 'downsizing' mean anything to you?" "I'm not sure I follow you..." "Join the parade. Apparently the firm's suffered some financial losses, and they can't afford to keep all of their offices open. Acme Acres' is the first to go." Rhonda read her daughter's expression. "And before you ask, this means the sale to the Carrottes is down the drain..." "Well, how come?" "The head office can't honor the deal, since I made a sale while representing a firm that, basically, no longer exists; and I'm pretty sure that's illegal. I'll just have to call the Carrottes and tell them the deal's off..." Ruby was at a loss for words. "Gee, Mom, I'm sorry..." Rhonda sighed morosely. "Well, don't be. I had a few good years, and now it's time for this old girl to try something else, I guess." She smiled half- heartedly. "Anyway, we've still got enough savings to last us for a few more decades, so it's not like they'll be holding a telethon for us any time soon, dear." "Yeah, I guess you're right." "Sure I am..." Finally, however, the shock proved too much for her, and she broke down sobbing. "Oh, what are we going to do now?" Instinctively, Ruby did the only thing she could do at that point, which was to hug her mom as tightly as she could. It wasn't much, but for the moment, it would suffice... -0- A little later on, when she felt better, Rhonda decided to inform the Carrottes of the disastrous news. Reasoning that the phone would be too impersonal, she elected to tell them in person. This was the one part of her job that she truly hated, telling a client that the sale had fallen through... She stopped and corrected herself. _What_ job? Sighing heavily, she rang their doorbell. "Oh, hallo," Lizbeth Carrotte said pleasantly as she answered the door. "May I help you?" "I'm not sure. I was looking for Lillian and Sir Rupert..." "Do you mean Mum and Da? They're out right now stockin' up on provisions Ä 'grocery shopping', I believe it's called here." She extended her paw. "My name's Lizbeth Anne Carrotte, but feel free to call me Lizzy..." "Oh, of course!" Rhonda replied, temporarily taken aback. "That's right, we haven't met yet. My name's Rhonda Rat..." "Ruby's mum? Well, come right in." Lizbeth led the strawberry blonde rat through the foyer into the main living room. Rhonda took one look and smiled. "I love what you've done with this place..." "Well, thank you. Have you met my brothers yet?" "I've met Nigel, yes," Rhonda chuckled, as Lionel ran into the room unannounced. "Oh! Excuse me..." "And of course, this is my other brother, Parnelli Jones. Lionel, this is Ruby's mum, Rhonda." "'Ow d'ya do, ma'am," Leo replied politely. The sound of a Bentley pulling into the driveway cut short his chatter. "Oh, that'll be our parents now." "Did you wish to talk to them about the restaurant?" Lizzy inquired. "Er, in a manner of speaking, yes..." The front door opened, and Lillian, Sir Rupert and Nige trudged in, their arms full of groceries. "Well, 'ello again, Ms. R.," Nigel beamed, his eyes barely peeking over the top of his bag. "Nice to nearly see a friendly face through all this brown paper shrubbery!" "Oh, Rhonda!" Lillian said, surprised. "I'm glad you're here. Is this about the restaurant site?" "Er, yes, I'm afraid so..." she said, hesitantly. "I presume you've heard, then," Rupert sighed. "We've hit a bit of a snag, I'm afraid... Leo, would you and your sister take these things before our arms fall off entirely?" The twin bunnies dutifully grabbed the grocery bags and carted them off to the kitchen without as much as a grumble. "Shall we put on a spot of tea while we're at it?" Nigel asked. "That would be nice, dear," Lillian replied, as the three grownups sat down on the sofa. "On its way," Nige said as he joined his siblings. "You were saying you hit a snag, Rupert? In what way?" "Well, it turns out that our Mr. Bughari failed to tell us that that property actually belongs to his cousin, and he's not willing to sell it for _any_ price, sad to say. And heaven only knows, we made him every generous offer we could think of..." "So, I guess we'll just have to start looking somewhere else," Lilly sighed dejectedly, as Lizzy re-entered, carrying several cups of tea, a teapot, and all the trimmings, on what looked to be an antique tea tray. "Thank you, dear," Lillian smiled, and offered her guest a cup. "Lemon, right?" "Er... yes. How did you know?" "Mum has this talent for knowing just what kind of tea a person is partial to," Lizzy replied. "We can't figure it out, but she's never been wrong yet!" "So, what brings _you_ here?" Rupert asked. "The most unfortunate of coincidences, I'm afraid," Rhonda sighed, before relating her tale of woe. The Carrottes sat and listened, stunned by what they heard. "Well, Rhonda, couldn't one of the _other_ realtors hire you? I'm sure they'd _love_ to have someone with your expertise working for them," Lilly suggested brightly. "I'm sure they would, too, but their hiring policies are so strict," the rat sighed. "Do you know they make you take the realtors exam all over again? And to make it worse, they each use different versions, and they all have a six-to-eight month waiting period after you complete the things before they'll hire you, and that's _if_ they'll hire you!" Rhonda shook her head sadly. "No, if that's what I have to go through, then forget it. It's not worth the headaches." Rupert took her paw in his. "Well, don't worry, my dear, something will _have_ to turn up!" "He's right," Lillian added. "Something usually does, eventually." "Yes, but what? I hate to admit it, but I've been a rank failure at almost everything else I've attempted," Rhonda sighed, staring forlornly into her teacup. "Well, is there anything else that you *really* love to do?" Lizzy asked sympathetically. "That you're really good at?" "Let me think," Rhonda replied, still staring into her tea. After a small eternity, she shrugged. "Can't think of anything right now. I'm sure I *must* be good at something else, but I don't know what it could be..." -0- The very next day, as The Bloomin' Loonies were walking home, Leo made a suggestion that would turn out to have far-reaching consequences. "Say, I've been thinking..." Nige and Liz eyed each other warily, before Nigel said, "Well, try to get over that..." "He's right, brother dear," Lizzy added. "There's enough of that goin' on in the world as it is." "Serves me right," Leo mused before continuing. "What I was going to say is, don't you think we sound a little... well, _sparse_?" "As they say in this country, Lionel, do the math. We're a trio. Naturally we're going to sound, well, less than full... even with all _our_ talent," Liz reasoned. "What 'ave you got in mind?" Nige asked. "Well, I was thinking we could try rounding the band out, you know, get a couple more musicians in here. In case it's escaped your notice, I _do_ play other instruments besides the drums..." Leo hinted. "We know," Liz reassured him sympathetically. "It can't be fun to be stuck in the back all the time." "As Brutus once remarked to Caesar," Nigel added with a merry twinkle in his eyes, only to be greeted by the inevitable groans. "Sorry. But who would you suggest?" "Oh, I don't know," Leo sighed. "Maybe we could sort of spread the word around school..." His siblings considered the merits of this idea only briefly before their thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an approaching hot rod and cries of "Gangway! Comin' through! If you don't like how I drive, get off the sidewalk!" The trio nearly fell over each other trying to get out of the way of the oncoming disaster, only to be surprised, yet somehow relieved, to discover that it was actually Miranda, recently freed from the confines of her wheelchair, on a skateboard. "Hi, guys," she beamed as she came to a sudden stop. She was wearing a fluorescent lime green spandex jersey and shorts (with matching helmet) and bright orange wrist, elbow and knee pads. "Hi, luv," Leo smiled. "You know, in that outfit, you're a sight for sore eyes." "I _am_?" "Yes. It hurts to look at you." Miranda flattened Leo with a roundhouse to the breadbasket. "OOOF!" "Er... hi," Nigel greeted her anxiously, not wishing to repeat his brother's shining example. "Wot's up, mink?" "Just tryin' out my new toy," she replied, handing it to Nigel for closer inspection. "Whaddaya think?" "Not sure... I've never seen twin afterburners on a skateboard before," the albino rat observed. "Not exactly environmentally sound, if you know wot I mean..." "Oh, those aren't afterburners," Miranda hastened to explain. "They're stereo speakers. I control them from my wrist pads. Here, check this out." And before Nigel had a chance to do otherwise, Miranda tapped her left wrist pad, and the sound of a screaming dragster blew the hapless rat's hair _and_ his ears straight back, and he dropped the board with a start. "REALP!!! Watch the _volume_, okay?" he suggested excitedly. "Ooops! Sorry, Nige," Miranda apologized, tapping her wrist again, silencing the board immediately. "I... I guess I really should work on adjusting the volume on that thing..." she added meekly. "Gee, you _think_?!?" Nigel frowned, as Leo handed the board back to her. "Now, Nige, slow down," Leo said. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional, was it, luv?" "Of... of course not..." Miranda's voice was barely a whisper now, and her head hung down so low that all the Carrottes could see was the top of her scalp. "I didn't realize it was so loud..." "Pity you couldn't apply that to music," Lizzy replied softly, trying to cheer her up. "We could _use_ that sort of technology in our band..." Miranda perked up instantly at that suggestion. "Really? 'Cos I've always wanted to be in a band myself!" She then executed a rapid spin change into a femme fatale rock persona, complete with electric guitar and an extremely (but not _too_) revealing outfit, which set the guys to drooling and Liz to wondering if it wasn't too late to move back to England. "Nige?" Leo asked in a stupor. "Yes?" Nige replied, equally dumbstruck. "Wot's that she's almost wearin'?" "Can't say for sure. Looks like the letter 'V'..." Miranda struck a chord, and the Carrottes' mouths dropped through the sidewalk. It was _horrible_! "Er, Miranda..." Liz said, recovering from the shock, and trying to be as diplomatic as possible, "maybe your talents lie _elsewhere_?" "Swimsuit calendars, per'aps?" Leo added hopefully, getting a whack on the head from Lizzy. "AY!!!" "I'm not very good on the guitar, I'm afraid," Miranda quickly acknowledged, a little embarrassed. "I've always wanted to play, but I'm all thumbs..." "That's not _all_ you are, luv," Leo noted, wriggling his eyebrows playfully, causing Miranda to blush. "Down, boy, _down_!" Nigel advised his brother. "How about keys?" Liz offered. Miranda rummaged through what little outfit she wore, and shrugged. "Not on me, no... sorry..." "I meant _keyboards_..." "_Oh_..." Miranda replied, giggling rapidly. "Um... no..." "Bass?" asked Nige. "No..." "Saxophone?" Leo wondered. "No..." The Carrottes went through almost every possible instrument (and even a few impossible ones), each time getting a negative response from the mink. After a brief silence, she added, "Um... you haven't asked me if I play drums..." "Should we?" Leo and Liz asked. Nigel sighed resignedly, "We should." The three Brits took a deep breath and asked in unison, "Do you play drums?" "You remember when you were first playing in the band room?" "Yes..." Leo said, remembering their Acme Loo 'debut'. "You know, when we did 'Run Runaway', I could've _sworn_ there was someone else playing extra percussion..." "That was me," Miranda admitted. "My 'chair had built-in drum pads." "Come _on_," Liz stated doubtfully, then recalled something. "Wait a minute, chaps. I think I _did_ see her pounding the stuffing out of her wheelchair at that! Whaddaya think, fellas?" "Why not?" Nigel grinned. "Come on, Randy..." Miranda glared at him suddenly, her blue eyes narrowing and her ears flattened back, and Nige quickly remembered Leo telling him that she didn't care for _any_ variations on her name. "Ooops... er, I mean _Miranda_..." "That's _better_..." she advised flatly. "Is it just me, or has she become obnoxious ever since she ditched her wheelchair?" Nige asked Leo nervously. "Brother, you're asking the wrong guy," Leo replied. "Oh, Miranda, you _might_ wanna change your outfit," Lizzy suggested cautiously. "If Mum and Da are home, you might not get in the front door... er... undressed like that!" "Huh?... Oh, right!" Miranda said. Executing another spin change, the mink returned effortlessly to her skateboarding outfit, much to Lionel's disappointment. "Gee, this keeps getting easier..." "Unfortunately," Leo commented sadly. "Keep your mind on _music_, lad," Nigel kidded him, as the quartet headed towards their practice room. Once there, Miranda seated herself behind Leo's drumkit and played a quick practice solo. "Not bad," she stated casually. "Of course, I've never actually played a _real_ kit before." "Oh, boy," Nigel sighed. "Well, let's get on with it. 'Ow 'bout 'Glad All Over'?" he suggested. With nods of approval from all concerned, he gave the count-off, Miranda played the opening solo, the band joined in at the proper moment... and suddenly the mink dropped the drumsticks and screamed in pain, holding her left ear! The Bloomin' Loonies stopped immediately, and Leo rushed to her side. "Miranda? Are you okay?" The little mink shook her head, still clutching her ear. Finally, raising her right paw, with one mighty whack, she slammed her paw against the right side of her head, forcing her hearing aid out of her left ear. She caught it effortlessly and looked at it disdainfully, grumbling some mild commentaries as she did. At last, she pocketed the device in her jersey. "Sorry, guys. I guess this thing and your music are incompatible." She exhaled briefly, and then said, "Well, shall we have another go at it?" as if nothing had happened. "Um, well..." Nigel said cautiously, unsure of whether or not Miranda insisted on forging ahead out of frustration, or whether she was really interested in passing the audition. "If you're sure you can handle it..." "Listen, Nigel, I can hear just as good with one ear as with two!" she insisted. "'Glad All Over', take two!" Even the albino rat had to admire her determination. "As you wish!" Miranda played the intro, the band joined in on the Dave Clark Five classic, and all went flawlessly for the rest of the session. The only sour note, in fact, was when Miranda was asked to sing. With reluctance, she gave it her best shot, but the cringing reaction of the Carrottes was enough to silence her after only a few bars. "I guess I should have warned you about that," she shrugged. "My singing is even worse than my guitar playing. Sorry." The Carrottes were still trying to clear their eardrums of the mink's vocal assault. "Um... look on the bright side... as a singer, I'm a terrific drummer," she giggled... -0- "I see... well, thank you for your time," Lillian said later that evening, as she was finishing up another fruitless phone conversation. She hung up the telephone dejectedly, and slumped down on the sofa. "Another rejection, my dear?" Rupert asked, as he stood near the open bay window. "Fifth one today," Lilly sighed. "That makes ten so far. I'm beginning to fear maybe Daffy was right, that there's _not_ going to be much call for another restaurant in Acme Acres, after... all... Rupert, dear, _why_ are you standing with your head out of the window like that?" "I'm not sure," he replied with a straight face. "Maybe I'm practicing to be a dog in a future life..." His response brought a small smile to his wife's face. "Boy! Talk about setting your expectations _low_!" "As they say here, ouch." Rupert sniffed the air around him. "Lilly, come here for a moment. Do you smell that wonderful aroma?" "_What_ wond... yes, now that you mention it, I do," Lillian said, also sniffing the air around her. "And it seems to be coming from next door... I'll be right back..." Quick as a bun... er, well, you know... Lilly dashed over to the Rats' house and knocked on the patio door. "Hullo, is anybody home?" she asked, knowing full well there had to be. Rhonda slid the door open. "Hi, Lillian. I'm right in the middle of baking. Can I help you?" Lillian glanced inside and saw that practically every available free space in the kitchen was covered with trays of freshly baked goods! "I'd say you're taking forced retirement well," Lilly observed casually. "How are you holding up?" "Well, I'm about to run out of flour," Rhonda replied. "That's not quite what I..." Lilly sniffed the air again. "Are those _scones_ I smell?" "Yeah, I picked up the recipe from a friend in Devonshire. Want one?" Rhonda handed Lilly a tray of them. "Yes, please..." Lilly took a bite, and a glazed look came over her. "Oh, my..." "Something wrong? I used too much butter, didn't I? I never could get the hang of this British-to-American measurement thingy..." "No, no, I'd say you got it just right... May I take these home?" "Be my guest, I've got plenty..." "There's the understatement of the year! Let me be right back..." Lillian dashed back home, and returned a few moments later, with the Carrotte clan pressing their faces against the patio door! "It's open," Rhonda giggled, which the Carrottes soon discovered as they fell face down on the floor with a thud. "What's all this, then?" "I think you got yourself a fan club, Ms. Rat," Nigel winked as the brood picked themselves up. "Well, thank you, Nigel, and please, call me Rhonda," Rhonda noted. "It's a bad habit of mine. Whenever I get depressed, I tend to bake to extremes..." Rupert tapped his wife on her shoulder. "Lillian, may I have a word with you?" "Of course, dear." Lilly joined her husband a short distance away from Rhonda. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Rupert asked. "I think so... I think..." "That's what I thought." Finally, her curiosity got to Rhonda. "What are you two going on about?" "Well, Rhonda..." Lilly said, slightly embarrassed, "this is so awkward... Oh, bother! How would you like a job?" "Doing what?" "What you're doing right now? I could use another pair of paws in the kitchen..." "But... but you don't even have a restaurant!" Rhonda protested mildly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Lilly reassured her. "I figure we'll start out small, cater one or two parties, see if the general public is interested, and just take it from there. That's how I did it in London, and how I _should've_ approached it here as well. Start small, and let word of mouth do the rest. You're obviously good at *this*... What do you say?" Rhonda had to admit that Lillian's enthusiasm was catching. "You know, I never really thought of *this* as a career... let me think about it, okay?" After the Carrottes left, Ruby and Roberta came in from the front room. "Mom, who was that that just left?" Rhubella asked. "The Carrottes..." She didn't get to finish, because Roberta went into hypertalk mode. "They were heisting your serving trays. You want us to call the fuzz in on 'em? We can have 'em all put in the hoosegow for grand theft serving tray in five min... mmmmmmmmm!" Ruby quickly clamped her paw over her sister's mouth. "Stop it, Bobbie! You're getting ridiculous again!" "Thank you, Ruby!" "What do you mean 'agai...' - MMMMFFFFF!!" "Enough, both of you!" Rhonda shouted, bringing some peace and quiet back to the kitchen. "Sorry... where was I?" "You were about to explain why our next door neighbors were carting off our cookery, or something like that..." "Oh yes, so I was. Lillian wants to hire me for her restaurant..." "As what?" "Whatever it is, Mom, don't take less than minimum wage. You can't get a decent pack of sports cards for less than minimum wage anymore..." Roberta chattered inanely. "Ruby?" Rhonda pleaded. "Way ahead of you, Mom," Rhubella reassured her. Turning to address her sister, she said, "You... go play." "Okay..." Roberta said, and dashed off happily to her room. "That was almost too easy," Ruby mused. "Not really," Rhonda observed dryly. "That's where all her stuff is." "Oh, yeah... Well, what does Mrs. Carrotte want to hire you for?" "She thinks I'd make a good chef for her restaurant... if there ever _is_ one, that is..." "I'd say go for it..." "You think I should?" "Mom, I know you. You're not happy unless you're busy and you've got a challenge." "Well... it would be both... I'm just not sure I can, though..." "Mother, _that's_ what you said when you went into real estate, remember?" "Oh, yes, so I did..." "Anyway, _you're_ the one who always told me you could do anything you had to do if you put your mind to it. Besides, you _know_ what the alternative would be," Ruby added with a grin. "Last time you baked to extremes, you ate it all! Took you, what, three months to get all that excess weight off?" "Don't remind me," Rhonda sighed, waving off the memory. "It took me forever to find a dress in that size!" "So we're in agreement, then... 'Blimp' does not look good on you." "Very funny, young woman..." The doorbell interrupted them. "Who can _that_ be?" "Oh, that'll probably be Roddy," Ruby said, looking at her watch. "We're going to check out that new golf course," she explained, and then halted nervously. "Something wrong?" "Oh, I just noticed, I'm not dressed for it! Mom, could you stall him for a couple of minutes? Thanks!" And Ruby ran upstairs to change before Rhonda could get a word in edgewise. "Be my pleasure," she sighed, opening the door, to see Roderick in his golf outfit. "Hi, Roderick..." "Oh, hello, Ms. R," he said politely. "Ruby's not ready yet?" "She'll be down in a minute," Rhonda said absently, reaching for one of her serving trays. "Here. Have a scone." "Um... thanks," Roddy said, taken aback at the offer somewhat. "Any particular reason?" "What?... Oh, no, I just felt like baking..." The same glazed look came over Roddy that had earlier graced Lillian. "You like it, hmmm?" Roddy could only nod appreciatively, as his mouth was full. "Maybe I _should_ take Lillian up on that offer..." Roddy quickly choked down his scone. "(Gulp!) As in 'Mrs. Carrotte'?" "I don't mean Mrs. Doubtfire!" "Mrs. who?... er, I mean, what offer is that?" "She's planning to open a new restaurant here, and she wants to hire me as a chef... if it ever comes through, that is. I'm just wondering if I should take the job or not..." If Roddy had any words of wisdom at that point (which, knowing him, was doubtful), they would be forever lost, as Ruby raced down the stairs in _her_ golf outfit. "Hi, Roddy. Well, let's go. See ya later, Mom," she said, dragging Roderick out of the room and out the door in one easy step. "Um... yeah, later..." she replied, and then went back into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and seriously began to consider her options... -0- Later the next day, the Carrottes were whiling away their after-school hours at Weenie Burgers, discussing this, that and the other thing with Miranda. The tiny mink seemed unusually anxious to know if she had passed her audition. "Settle down, luv," Lionel advised her calmly, after being slightly distracted by a passing gaggle of giggling girls who pointed at him and sighed, 'Leo!', leaving no question as to their adolescent affections for the young British bunny (much to Miranda's chagrin). "Where was I?... Oh, yes... We still have to listen to the tapes again..." "What for? You were there, you heard me," she protested. "Yes, well, let's just say he was distracted," Nigel winked, as Leo looked at him crossly. "_You_ should talk," Lizbeth mumbled. "*Ahem!* Yes," Nigel blushed, running his paw through his lavender hair, and looking for any chance to change the subject. "So, Miranda, I'm still not clear on something, and per'aps you can explain it." "If I can, Nigel..." "Well, I thought your bein' confined to that wheelchair was purely psychosomatic... was that the word?" "Yeah, that's what I thought, too, until I got slammed against the wall. I guess it turned out to be real after all," Miranda smiled. "And before you ask the next question, we finally found out that when that anvil fell on me, it pinched a nerve. Hitting the wall like that sort of... well, unpinched it. I'm surprised that the doctors never thought of _that_ as the cause." "_I'm_ not," Lizzy growled. "Bloody minded Hippocratic oafs... If their heads weren't attached to their bodies, they'd leave 'em in a restaurant..." she added, leaving no doubts as to her opinion of doctors in general. "Well, that clears that up," Nigel said, satisfied with the little mink's explanation. "Although I don't think the medical establishment will rush right out and stock up on comedy cannons any time soon." Miranda wiggled her eyebrows playfully. "What makes you think they already haven't?" "She's got a point there, brother," Leo noted, gazing into the mink's blue eyes as if he were planning to make that his life's work. Lizzy added, glancing at the clock, "OOOPS! We've gotta get going, boys!" Lionel, still fawning over Miranda, said petulantly, "Oh, do we _have_ to?" "We do," Nigel reminded him. "Time, tide, and our parents wait for no mink... er, man! See you, Miranda!" he noted hastily, as the trio dashed toward the exit. As the Carrottes were making their way out of Weenie Burgers, they saw Roderick heading their way. "Oh, dear," Lizzy sighed. "Wonder what _he_ wants?" "I have a feeling he's going to tell us," Nigel grinned. "When was the last time I used my cricket ba... Oh, hello, Roderick!" "Hello, Carrotte. Listen, I owe you an apology..." "Wot, again?" Leo smirked. To his surprise, it was Nigel who shot him a warning glance. "Now, now, let's hear him out," the albino rat said coolly. "You were saying?" "Well... um, ever since the dance, I've been getting requests..." "To move to Arizona?" "Leo..." Nigel stated flatly. "Go on..." "Well, I'll get right to it, Carrotte. The student body's been pestering me all day about it, and they want to know if you three would be interested in playing at our Cotillion this Saturday." At the sound of the word 'Cotillion', Lizzy nearly went into apoplexy! "Could it have been something I said?" Roddy asked, genuinely surprised. "Yes, we don't mention words like that around Liz," Leo whispered. "Reminds her too much of the negative aspects of Soho Prep, don't you know?" "Um, yeah," Roddy said as if he knew, which of course, he didn't. "Tell me, were there any positive ones?" "NO!" Lizbeth snapped, as though that should be the final word on the subject. "Lizzy, calm down," Nigel said soothingly. "I really don't think they'll be asking us to play waltzes all evening!" "Oh, no, of course not," Roddy said reassuringly. "Just play what you did the other night. They'll love it!" "One moment, Roddy," Nigel replied, entering into a huddle with his siblings. "Well, this _is_ a surprise! Whaddaya think?" "I dunno, Nige, you think we should?" "Don't see why not, Leo... er, Lizzy?" "If they request even _one_ waltz..." she growled briefly, then added, "Well, Nigel, we could use the exposure... I guess..." "Then it's settled, we help him out?" "Only if we knew which way he came in," Leo chirped. "Ouch," Nigel smirked. Turning back to Roddy, he said, "All right, it's settled. We'll do it!" "Great!" Roddy said. "I'll get in touch with you about the details, all right?" "All right," Nigel said, offering his paw, which Roddy shook. After the Carrottes went their way, Danforth Drake emerged from behind a nearby dumpster. "Roddy..." "What is it, Danforth?" "Am I crazy, or..." "Yes. What else did you want to know?" "I'll leave that alone and get to the point," Danforth sighed. "Are you actually being... ugh... _nice_ to those Carrottes?" "I prefer to think of it as 'cordial', Danforth," Roddy countered. "Besides, if it gets me what I want, a little sucking up to aristocracy couldn't hurt..." "Is _that_ what you're doing?" "What else? You don't really think I'm chumming up to those three twits because I _like_ them, do you? If I can get in good with them, I might get in good with their old man, and _that's_ where the money is!" "Ohhhh..." Danforth said, the light finally beginning to dawn. "So this is all purely out of self-interest, then..." "Natch! We've got to funnel some new cash into Perfecto, and soon!" "I thought Bobbo didn't have that over our heads anymore, if he ever did to begin with..." "He didn't, but there's the matter of some old debts that never got cleared up; and after that tuition business, not to mention that fiasco with the petty cash, the Board of Regents are not exactly our best friends in the world right now." "Oh, don't I know _that_! Well, how exactly are you going to go about this?" "I'm not sure, yet..." Roddy pondered, before an idea hit him. "Got it! Ruby's mom was telling me Mrs. Carrotte owns a restaurant in London, and wants to start one here as well..." "Yes?" "If I pull some strings and get her the catering contract for the Cotillion, that could be just the foot in the door I... er, *we* need!" Danforth was completely unconvinced. "Uh huh. Aren't you forgetting one little detail, oh chieftain? We already _have_ a catering contract with Milleway's?" "Big deal," Roddy laughed that little formality off. "Contracts are like rules Ä they're made to be broken, you know that!" "Okay... Tell me, Roddy, if this works, and you _do_ get the cash out of Sir Rupert as a result, does this mean you're still going to be 'cordial' to those royal twerps?" "Not if I can help it," Roddy cackled ominously. -0- "Mom?" Ruby said as she arrived home. "In the kitchen, dear," Rhonda called out. "How was school today?" "Same as it ever was," Ruby smiled. "Thank you, David Byrne," Rhonda noted sarcastically. "You're welcome," Ruby noted, pouring herself a cup of lemon tea. "But enough about that. You decide whether or not to take Mrs. Carrotte up on her offer?" "I just might," her mother replied, still considering her options (which, at that point, were limited). The ringing of the phone interrupted her. "I'll get that... hello? Oh, hi, Lilly... As a matter of fact, Ruby and I were... You're _kidding_! Already?!? Well, I guess I'm not going to have much choice, then," she laughed. "You've just hired yourself a chef! Okay. See you in a half an hour... Right... Okay, 'bye!" Hanging up the phone, she turned to her daughter excitedly. "Well, so much for unemployment!" "You're taking the job?" "You heard it here! They're not even open for business yet, and already they've got their first catering order!" "Really? Who?" "You're never going to believe it... Perfecto Prep," Rhonda said, not quite believing the irony herself. Rhubella had to struggle to keep from doing a spit-take. "It's got to be a prank, Mom," she warned cynically. "No, I don't think so, dear. Lillian mentioned something about the Cotillion..." Ruby smacked her head. "Of course! The Cotillion! I forgot they hold it every year about this time. But they've always used Milleway's before..." Ruby pondered this sudden, and most unexpected, turn of events. Rhonda could see the wheels turning in Ruby's head. "All right, you, what are you thinking?" "If I knew, I'd tell you." Ruby paced back and forth. "As far as you know, has Mrs. Carrotte told anybody from Perfecto about the restaurant yet?" "No, not that I... oh, wait a minute," Rhonda stopped suddenly. "I think _I_ might have mentioned it to Roddy in passing..." Ruby snapped her fingers. "Of course! I forgot he's the head of the Cotillion committee!" A scowl crossed Ruby's face. "He _must_ be up to something... he hardly even _knows_ Mrs. Carrotte... _or_ Sir Rupert, for that matter... and he's not exactly on the best of terms with the rest of them, either..." Rhonda reached for the phone. "You think I should call Lillian and tell her to decline the job, then?" Ruby waved her mother away from the phone frantically. "No, don't do _that_, Mom! Snatching the Perfecto Cotillion away from Milleway's is practically the 'coup' to end all 'de graces', if you don't mind a mangled metaphor," Ruby grinned. "You pull _this_ one off, and you guys can practically write your own ticket!" Then she mused under her breath, "I just wonder what Roddy is up to?" -0- In the main office upstairs at Milleway's, meanwhile, a nervous maitre'd approached the owner. "Yes, Simper, what is it?" an ominous voice hissed from the shadows. "Um, sir, I don't quite know how to tell you this..." he fawned. From the shadows, two steely eyes glared at him. "Then... try... using... _words_..." he replied irritably. "Um, yes, words, of course. Well, you know every year at this time we cater the Perfecto Prep Cotillion..." "I know, Simper..." "Well, not this year, apparently..." Simper gulped. An icy chill swept through the room, leaving a layer of frost on the potted plants. "How is that again?" "Well, we just received a call from Perfecto, stating that our services would not be required this year..." "Why, those ingrates! Don't they know we _made_ their lousy little Cotillion the social event of the year? We have an iron-clad lifetime contract!" The owner was fuming now. "Do you happen to know who actually made the call?" "Oh, yes sir," the maitre'd replied, shaking in his oh-so-polished shoes, and fishing around for a piece of paper. "It was... let me see... yes, here it is... Roderick Rat." Simper half-expected an explosion to take place right then and there, so he was surprised to hear his boss laughing instead. "Roderick Rat, eh? Well, I shouldn't have been surprised," he chuckled malevolently, leaning forward into the light, revealing himself to be none other than... Bobbo Acme! "As a matter of fact, I've come to expect that from him." "You... you have?" "Yes, in a manner of speaking. Well, two can play that game..." Bobbo reached for the telephone and dialed carefully. Then, making sure he had the right connection, he asked in his most syrupy tones, "Hello, I'm calling from the society page of the Acme Gazette... that's right, and I need some information about your upcoming Cotillion... uh-huh... yes... The Bloomin'... uh-huh... excuse me, I didn't quite get that last bit of information, could you repeat it, please?... the catering will be handled by 'Carrotte's'... okay, I think I've got all the information I need... no, thank you... goodbye." Bobbo hung up the phone and looked over the notes he'd been taking with an evil grin. "All the information I need, heh heh heh... 'Carrotte's', eh?" Simper ventured an opinion. "I've never heard of it..." "Neither have I, Simper. Find out what you can about that place, and report back to me." "Right, sir... 'Carrotte's'... I've _still_ never heard of it." "That's all right, Simper. By the time I'm finished, neither will anybody else..." -0- As the Carrotte siblings strode up the walk to their house, it was plain that they were each thinking the same thing, more or less, although it was Lionel who actually was the first to give voice to it. "Say, Nigel," Leo asked, "was Roddy really attempting to chum up to us?" "'Sucking up' is more accurate," the albino noted sourly. "Did you notice how he started being nicer to us _after_ he found out who Father was?" "Oh, yes, now that you mention it," Leo noted thoughtfully. "Do you s'pose 'e's up to somethin'?" "His sort usually are," Lizzy noted with equal disgust. "Honestly, I fail to see what Rhubella sees in him!" "She needs a punching bag?" Nigel smirked. "Anyway, I don't see wot he hopes to accomplish. It's not like we're terribly high up on anyone's aristocratic ladder, after all." "True," Lizzy agreed. "Even less so over here. We're practically the 'peasants' he makes us out to be," she added with a laugh. "Except we've got a better upbringing," Nige added as a footnote. "Watch it, Nige," Lionel cautioned him. "You're startin' to tread on dangerous ground when you say stuff like that!" "Oh, yes, the old 'Soho Prep' syndrome," Nigel said, adopting an air of mock seriousness. "Don't worry, you two. I remember what dear old Mum taught us... to be good, decent, and view others of our peerage as examples of bad behaviour. Sometimes I think that's what got us all through that experience," he chuckled. "Speaking of getting through experiences," Lionel said hopefully, "what did you two think of Miranda's audition? Be brutally honest." "Brutal," the other two Carrottes said without missing a beat. "Come _on_..." "Well, let's look at the pros and cons," Lizzy said analytically. "Bearing in mind her bad ear, she's still got a terrific sense of rhythm." "That she does," Nigel conceded admiringly. "I can't believe she knows all of the same songs that we do. And we threw every obscure tune we could think of at 'er! No question, the girl can keep a beat, and she knows 'er pop history." "Plus she looks great in the letter 'V'," Leo snickered. "All right, knock that off!" Liz chided her brother. "So much for the pros. What about the cons?" "Well, she's admitted it herself. As a singer, she's a terrific drummer," acknowledged Leo. "_Who's_ a terrific drummer?" asked a new voice to the proceedings, namely, RuBarb, who was dressed in a light green skirt and mini-blouse. "Oh, hi, Rue!" Nigel smiled. "Nice outfit..." "Thank you," she replied. "I figured I'd give the clothes thing one last chance. Now *who's* a terrific drummer?" "Oh, yes. We're considerin' lettin' Miranda join the band..." "I see," the alluring black kitten said, cozying up to Nigel. "And when do I get to join, hmmm?" "_You_ want to join?" the rat asked doubtfully. "Why not?" "Well... can you sing?" Liz asked. "Well... I don't know. I've never tried." "All right, can you play an instrument?" inquired Leo. "Does trombone count?" "Only as a poor substitute for bagpipes, luv," Leo replied. "Um, yeah... how about bass?" RuBarb suggested brightly. "You... play bass?" Nigel asked, intrigued. "Yeah. I learned it when I was in the school orchestra back at St. Switchhit's. That was the only thing that I was any good at over there. That, and basketball." "_This_ I have got to hear!" Nige declared. "Okay, meet us back 'ere at 7:30..." "You got it," Rue replied, as if nothing would keep her away. As the Carrottes watched her go, Liz appeared thoughtful. "All right, sis, out with it," Nigel said. "I'm just thinking... are you _really_ sure it's such a good idea to bring your girlfriends into the band like this?" she asked. "What could be wrong with that?" Leo and Nige returned in unison. Liz raised an eyebrow. "Two words... Fleetwood Mac." Leo and Nige looked at each other, shuddering. "Ooooooohhh..." -0- At that precise moment, Simper had finished his fact-finding mission, and was reporting back to Bobbo Acme. "'Carrotte's' is a British restaurant chain owned by Sir Rupert and Lillian Carrotte," he noted blandly. "They're planning to use the Cotillion to see if it would be worth expanding into the U.S. market." "Carrotte... Carrotte... why does that name sound so familiar to me, Simper?" Bobbo paced back and forth, racking his brain trying to recall just where he had heard that name before. "Beats me," Simper shrugged. "They have 3.0 children who attend Acme Looniversity, have a rock band called 'The Bloomin' Loonies', and one of them, Nigel, is the quarterback on the Acme football team..." "Well, isn't that spec..." Bobbo halted suddenly. "What was that you just said? Quarterback of the Acme Loo team?!?" His voice rose in pitch, matching the intensity with which he asked the question. "Of _course_! I should have _known_!" He pounded his fists angrily on his desktop as he recalled how Perfecto had slipped from his grasp, mostly due to the incompetence of Roderick, but certain that the playing ability of Nigel Carrotte was equally to blame. "Simper, I do believe that it's time for us to test market our latest device... and young Mr. Carrotte will serve as the guinea pig, heh heh heh..." -0- That evening was the first practice with RuBarb and Miranda, and although she exuded confidence in rehearsal, afterwards Rue appeared unusually nervous, even for _her_. "So, tell me, Liz, how did I do? Did I pass?" "I'd say yes, but then again, you have to take into consideration my brothers' opinions..." "And?" "In a word, RuBarb... ditto. You're in! You are now officially a Bloomin' Loonie!" "I could have told you _that_ the minute I enrolled at Acme Loo," RuBarb giggled, before noticing out of her peripheral vision the expression on Miranda's face. "Um... what about her?" Miranda looked pensively at Lizzy, who got the hint. "Oh yes, we almost forgot! Nige?" "Well, Miranda..." the albino hesitated, "We like you a lot, and please don't let this colour your opinion of us, but, well, we're sorry, we _can_ actually use you." He paused, and then the wickedest of cheese-eating grins spread across his face. "Congratulations, Miranda. You're officially our new drummer! Your first gig's this Saturday night." Miranda screamed so loudly, she almost broke all the light bulbs in the studio! "Thank you thank you thank you!" she said, hugging the rest of the gang. "You're welcome," Leo laughed. Quickly, however, the mink came back to reality. "This Saturday? Gee, that doesn't give us much time," Miranda noted. "Oh, don't worry 'bout it," Leo smiled. "We've got every confidence in you, luv." "Thanks, Leo," the mink replied. "Oh, by the way, Nige, where are we playing?" "I thought you'd never ask," Nigel remarked. "'Ow d'ya feel about playin' at Perfecto Prep?" -0- Props 101 was a class that everybody in it just seemed to enjoy. It, truthfully, came as no real surprise, for it seemed to be a part of the toon psyche to seek out new, unique, and creative ways of formfitting absolute mayhem with everyday and NOT so everyday objects. In Professor Pig's class they had covered practically everything from anvils to Zambonis. Nobody was really surprised that Nigel passed the "blunt objects" part of the course with flying colors. After all, he _had_ proven himself more than adept with his cricket bat. Lionel and Lizbeth, however, surprised everybody (except Nigel) when they used the hands-on part of the class for some playful sibling infighting. Their pranks, however, earned them extra credit more often than reprimands. Today, however, their studies had taken a different course. Professor Pig had lectured at length about the devices available to any enterprising toon yearning to create a little mischief, or a great deal of destruction. These devices were available, for a price of course, from the Acme Corporation and more reputable companies. "I think I'd rather stick to my cricket bat," Nigel mused during the hands-on part of that class. "Much, much. much more dependable." "That's true, I suppose," agreed Emily Bunny, "but there's something deliciously tempting about all this stuff." Nigel could not help but nod as he and Emily watched Liz and Leo examine a large spring-loaded trap. Lizzy was standing atop the trigger plate with no fear. After all, this _was_ an Acme product. Lionel was examining the mechanism that released the spring, which made Nigel slightly suspicious. "You wouldn't, would you?" Nigel queried his brother. "Oh, NEVER on purpose," Leo uttered smoothly as he stood, turned, and half-bowed to Nigel, his foot contacting the release mechanism. With a loud *SPROING!* and an equally loud screech, Lizzy was catapulted through the classroom and out into the hallway. "Oops," Lionel murmured, his face a mask of false innocence. "I can't believe you DID that!" Emily uttered, stunned. "Well, now," Lionel chuckled, "Goes to show you that you don't know me very well, don't it?" "Come on," Nigel sighed, "We'd better go and see if she's alright." They walked to the door, which was left open just in case of circumstances like these, and peered out. Against the wall, slumped and unconscious, was Adam Fox. In his lap was the equally slumped and unconscious Lizzy. Adam had obviously broken Liz's fall, but had in turn been slammed into the wall, and they both had been knocked cold. "Lizzy's gonna have a fit when she wakes up," Emily giggled. "She's been trying to meet Adam for weeks." They both awoke slowly, shaking the fog from their woozy brains, and groaning slightly in pain. Adam and Lizbeth turned toward each other, offering apologies, and their gazes locked with an almost audible click. Words went unspoken as Liz and Adam became lost in one another's eyes, goofy yet tender smiles coming to dominate their faces. This wordless exchange went on for several minutes, Nigel and Lionel watching in bemused amusement. Emily, on the other hand, thought the whole thing was terribly romantic. "I wonder," Leo mused thoughtfully, "does Professor Pig have the Jaws of Life in his props closet?" "Dunno. Think we'll need it?" Nigel queried. "We will if we want to pry those two apart," Leo reposted with a grin. Emily tapped the two brothers on their shoulders, bringing their attention back to the love-struck couple. They had gone from staring goofily into one another's faces to one seriously heated lip-lock. Nigel whistled shrilly, as Leo shouted, "'ERE now, none of THAT!" Liz and Adam both started breaking off the kiss. Lizzy turned and gave her brothers a (not literally) dagger filled glare, before turning back to Adam. "We'll continue this conversation later, ay wot?" Liz murmured. "Forgot where we were for a sec." "Well, I didn't exactly forget," Adam said with a smile, still pleasantly dazed from what had just happened. "I just didn't give a hoot." "Meet you after school then, luv? Got to be home by seven-thirty, though." "Curfew?" "No. Band practice. You can try out if you like," Liz replied. "Oh, okay. Thanks, but no," Adam said, chuckling. "I can't carry a tune in a bucket." It was while all this was going on that Miranda joined them. "Hey, guys, what's going on here?" "We'll let you know soon as the smoke clears," Leo grinned. Lizzy rejoined them at that moment. "So, Sis, 'appy now?" he inquired. "Oh, quite," she smiled, before decking Leo with an uppercut that sent him flying across the hall. "That was for the way you introduced us." Miranda shook her head and moved cautiously away from them. "I'll never understand you guys," she muttered in worried tones. -0- Lizbeth had previously made perfectly clear to cousin Lola the fact that she had no interest whatsoever in joining the basketball squad, due (more or less) to her experience at Soho Prep, where the other so-called players (who couldn't hit the broad side of Nelson's Column in Trafalgar Square!) would always take advantage of her talent to stage come-from-behind victories against other private schools (since they could never hope to beat any of the public ones Ä as if Soho would dare to step on the same court with those peasants). This never would have happened, she'd told herself, if her American cousin had never taught her the game in the first place. Thank you again, cousin Lola. So, she had been quite pleasantly surprised to discover that the current squad of Acme Lady Toonsters actually had some _real_ talent, even Miranda (who, although not actually a member of the squad, had still participated in the practices anyway, just because she felt like it). What surprised Liz even more, was the fact that she was actually enjoying these practices, due in no small measure to the interaction between her and the other girls on the court. Later that day at basketball practice, the Loonies girls were busy discussing their upcoming gig, while the rest of the girls were talking about anything and everything under the sun, when a whistle from coach Lola Bunny told them that any further chat would have to wait. "All right, ladies, has anybody seen... oh, wait a minute, here comes Miss Punctuality 1996 now," she joked, as Ruby dashed into the gym. "Nice of you to show up, Rhubella." "Sorry I'm late, Coach," Ruby started to apologize, grabbing a loose basketball. "Looks like my brothers and I aren't the _only_ ones suffering from the 'Serena syndrome'," Lizbeth noted pleasantly. This brought bemused chuckles and knowing winks from the rest of the girls; but from Ruby, it only rated a confused and rather icy stare. "Huh?" Ruby said. "It's from 'Sailor Moon'," Lizzy elaborated. "It referred to the fact that Sailor Moon was habitually late." "Oh," Ruby replied. "I never watch that show, so I'm not familiar with it..." Lola waved it off with a smile. "Don't worry about it, Ruby. I had the same problem when I was a girl. Anyway, we couldn't really start the class without you today," she added, to the rat's confusion. "RuBarb, if you please?" The black kitten approached Ruby nervously. "Well, Rhubella, it's been a swell gig, and I really appreciated it, but..." "Wait a minute," Ruby said, one thought crossing her mind. "Are you... leaving?" "In a manner of speaking, sort of," Rue giggled, producing a small box and handing it to her. "By rights, this should have gone to you before that exhibition game. Well, go on, open it up!" Still not sure what was going on, Ruby did so, and her eyes beheld a blue and yellow letter 'C'. She immediately knew what this meant. "But Rue, I couldn't..." "Yes, you could, too," the kitten smirked. "Besides, we all took a vote on it, and it was unanimous... Captain." For the first time in her life, Rhubella _really_ didn't know what to say. Sure, she had been captain of the Perfecto team before, but that was different, as every other girl on the Perfecto squad was, to say the least, less than brilliant on the court, more or less leaving Ruby to lead the team by default (a situation Lizzy could readily identify with, having gone through same at Soho Prep). This time, it actually _meant_ something. Finally, Ruby whispered, "I... I'm speechless... Thank you..." "Don't mention it," Emily Bunny smiled. "Otherwise, we'll never hear the end of it!" "All right," Lola giggled. "I have one more announcement. As you all know by now, Elmyra's in constant rehearsals for that new TV show of hers, 'Stinky Elmyra is a Pain' or whatever it's called, so she won't be able to make practices with us anymore.. The girls responded with an obviously insincere "Awwwww...." "All right, cut that out," Lola said. "Whatever else could be said of her, she _could_ play some hoops, and we'll miss her. However, I think I've found a more than suitable replacement for her. Miranda Mink, front and center!" The little mink almost stumbled across her tail getting to center court. "Here, Coach!" she said. "Um, mink, are you _sure_ you're up to this?" Ruby asked with a grin. "I am if _you_ are," Miranda shot back, grabbing the ball from Ruby and executing a perfect half-court basket. "I've been had," Ruby muttered. "Okay, enough standing on ceremony," Lola chirped. "We've got a game to prepare for!" "We... we do?" Lizzy asked, as if this was news to her, which it was. "Of course we do, Liz," Lola replied. "Our season starts officially this Saturday, and I want us all to make a good showing..." "Um, Coach," Miranda wondered, "who are we playing?" "I thought you knew, Miranda... Perfecto Prep. Is there a problem with that?" "Er, no, none at all," Miranda answered nervously. "Okay, then, it's settled," Lola smiled, and then blew her whistle so hard that she lifted a foot off of the floor! "All right, girls, I wanna see you hustle out there!" The girls, with Ruby reinstated as team captain, did their best to comply, and under her leadership, did it darn well. It was only after the practice that Liz, Miranda and Rue nervously approached Rhubella. "Hey, guys, what's wrong?" "Well, Ruby, it's about the game..." Lizbeth said. "Hey, if you're worried about Perfecto, don't be," Ruby reassured them. "We beat 'em once before this year, we can do it again. Just ask RuBarb." "Um, yes," Miranda noted. "But I was wondering if..." "If what?" "Well... couldn't the three of us call in sick that weekend or something?" she blurted out hopefully. "Why? Have you got something going on more important than the game, short cake?" "It depends on your definition of importance," Rue hemmed and hawed. "All right, what's going on?" Ruby asked, crossing her arms and half- closing her eyes. "Well," Lizzy ventured, "Rue and Miranda are part of our band, now..." "You are? Hey, congratulations, you two!" "Gee, um, thanks," Miranda muttered. "Although I think we might have a conflict of interest that weekend..." "How so? You have a gig?" "Yes, as a matter of fact, we do..." "Can't you cancel it?" "No can do, Ruby," Liz replied, hesitant. "We're pretty much honour bound to follow through with it." "You Carrottes and that honor thing," Ruby smiled. "So, where is it?" "Um... you tell her, Rue..." Miranda said nervously. "ME?!? Why should I tell her we're playing at Perfecto?... Oops." Ruby fixed an icy stare at her friends and fellow teammates. "How's that again?... No, wait, let me guess... _This_ Saturday?... (Gasp!) You booked the Loonies to play at the Perfecto Cotillion?!? Lizbeth, how _could_ you?" she exploded. "Hey, don't blame me, Ruby! Nigel's the one who handles all of the bookings for us! Anyway, it was Roddy's idea," Lizzy snapped. Ruby brought a paw to her forehead. "Roddy... it _would_ be..." "Besides," Lizzy continued, "_we_ didn't know there'd be a game this weekend!" "Oh, man," Ruby grimaced, "First day as captain and you hit me with *this*? Talk about rotten timing! Okay, let's not panic. There ought to be _some_ clout that goes with being the team captain around here, after all..." "*I've* never noticed any," RuBarb noted with some sarcasm. "Um, yeah... Look, let me talk to Lola for you and see if we can work something out." She sprinted off to find Lola, and the trio could see her quickly explaining their predicament to the blonde bunny. They just as quickly heard Lola's response. "*NO!*" Ruby staggered back to the girls, her hair blown backwards and her teeth on edge. "No chance, huh?" Miranda asked pleasantly. Ruby shot her a look that seemed to say, in so many unspoken words, 'Oh, shut up!' -0- Nigel, glad that yet another day of academic mayhem had concluded, went to his locker to gather his books to take home. Blissfully unaware of oncoming disaster, he put his homework into his book bag as he hummed his favorite Slade tunes. As he hummed, he paused, thinking, suddenly, about rehearsal, and the band in general. Now that the Bloomin' Loonies had RuBarb and Miranda as bassist and drummer, this freed up Leo to play other instruments, but Nigel could not help but wonder just what instrument they could add to round out the sound. The rat found himself in a quandary, and did not know how to resolve it. What could Lionel do now? "NIGEL!" Lizbeth's raised voice echoed into the locker, shocking the rat from his musings. "YAAAAAAH!" yelped Nigel, startled so badly that he thudded his head against the locker wall. He sat down with a small groan, cradling his aching head with his hands, closing his eyes tight from the pain. "Oops," murmured Lizzy, wincing. She had not meant to do that. RuBarb, making a concerned noise, kneeled behind the stricken rat, taking his hands in hers, and gently kissing his sore noggin. "Are you all right?" she murmured into his ear. "Oh, nothing that a damp cloth, and aspirins won't help," Nigel replied, smiling slightly. "Though you are making for a splendid substitute." "Thanks," murmured the kitten. "That's all well and good, but we need Nigel here with us, not floating around on cloud nine," observed Miranda, getting a sour look from Rue. "Oh yes, that reminds me," Nigel said, looking up at Miranda and Lizbeth. "What, pray tell, was so important that you had to get my attention with a concussion?" "Oh, nothing much, brother dear," Lizbeth said with an offhand shrug. "Just that we've got ourselves a smidge of a problem." She went on to explain the situation they now faced. "Y'know," Nigel said to RuBarb, scritching her chin since it was so conveniently there, "you've got to love her terminology. What she calls 'a smidge of a problem' is what I'd call 'bloody hinderin' awkward'." "She didn't want to seem panicked," Rue replied with a purr. "Oh well, if you put it that way, then it is a smidge of a problem, int it?" Nigel countered with a grin. "And one that's just now been solved." "Huh?" uttered RuBarb, looking surprised at her boyfriend. Lizzy and Miranda both blinked. Nigel helped Rue up, then picked up his books as he closed his locker. "Simple, really," Nigel drawled, casually. "What we need is a way to distract the Perfectoid girls from noticing three star Acme players playing, also, in the band for the evening, and I know just the distraction." "What?" queried Lizbeth. "Or rather, who?" "Lionel," Nigel replied. "We'll have Leo sing lead, that night." "You don't want to be lead singer anymore, Nige?" Lizzy asked curiously. "Oh, I'd still enjoy it, but my appeal is somewhat limited," Nigel replied. "I'm sure that Miranda's noticed Leo's effect on the other female students of our beloved institution of higher learning." Miranda growled slightly, crossing her arms. "Don't worry, his eyes are only for you, you know." "I know, I know..." Miranda murmured, somewhat mollified. "Why, Miranda," RuBarb smiled slyly. "I _do_ believe I detect a note of jealousy in you!" "In her case, more like the Hallelujah Chorus," Lizzy giggled. Miranda growled again, a little more than slightly this time, her ears flattening against her head, her eyes narrowing and her tail twitching threateningly. "Okay, okay, we'll knock it off," Liz reassured her. "Hope so," Miranda mumbled. -0- "Let me get this straight," Lionel uttered, with no little trepidation, when they gathered for that night's rehearsal. "You want me to sing lead for the Perfecto Cotillion? Why can't you do it as usual, Nigel?" "Talented as I may be, my raw energy, unparalleled guitar playing and consummate showmanship is simply not enough to distract the ladies' basketball team of Perfecto Prep away from the fact that we JUST happen to have three Acme Lady Toonsters in our band," Nigel explained, convincingly. "Great. As if my life wasn't complicated enough," Leo grumbled. "I jolly well don't want any more of those silly girls throwing themselves at me. It's embarrassing. Nevermind the fact that it makes Miranda slightly snippish." "'Snippish?'" Miranda queried, warningly. "No offence, m'luv, but it's hard to retain a romantic atmosphere, lately, between those twits sighing over me, and you growling over them," Leo replied. Miranda seemed somewhat placated, especially considering her boyfriend's assessment of his newly acquired fandom. "Speakin' of buddin' romance and all that," Nigel smirked, "I thought Adam was gonna show up tonight, Lizzy. Wot happen, he get cold feet?" "Nothing like that," Lizzy replied. "The Acme Gazette called him up and asked if he'd like to do a sort of an audition piece for them." "Newspapers hold auditions?" Miranda asked, puzzled. "Ordinarily, no; but the editor was so impressed with the stories he'd written in the school paper, that he thought Adam might like to have a shot at the real thing, y'know, just to see if 'e could hack it." "So this is just a temporary gig?" Leo inquired. "At the moment," Liz sighed. "I kinda wish it hadn't come up, of course, but it _would_ be a big break for him. He promised to make it up to me tomorrow night." "Er, yes... speakin' of temporary gigs, gettin' back to Leo singin' lead at the Cotillion," Nigel remarked, turning towards his brother, "Whaddaya say, Leo? You'll do it, then?" Nigel smiled his most charming cheese-eating grin. Leo sighed in resignation. He hated it when Nigel did that. "Might as well. Just chalk it up to one more sacrifice for art..." "You aren't nervous about being frontman for a fortnight?" "Not really, Liz," Lionel said. "It's just that, well, I _do_ feel a little uncomfortable without something to hold on to while I'm singing, don't you know?" "I heard that," Miranda chirped from behind the drums. "And don't you even _think_ it!" "I didn't mean _you_, luv," Leo shot back. "Oh? And just why not?" "Now, now, none of that," Nigel cautioned the pair. "But now that you mention it, Leo, we thought you might feel that way," he overacted, putting a wrist to his forehead, "so we scrimped and saved, your sister and I, and we pooled our meager resources, and..." "'We', nothing," Lizzy remarked. "You put in a word to Father..." "She certainly knows how to let the air out of a presentation, don't she?" Nigel grinned sheepishly, as he presented Leo with a large rectangular box. "We thought it might round out the sound a bit more." His curiosity peaked, Leo opened the box to discover a 12-string acoustic/electric guitar, its front done up like a Union Jack. "How did you... Oh, my... I don't know whether to play this or salute it!" Leo quipped. "*Now* will you do it?" Nigel teased. Leo quickly played a few practice runs on his new guitar. "Well, only because you twisted me bloody arm off!" he grinned. "Bribery, the Carrotte trump card," Miranda giggled. "That's what I love about this group," RuBarb noted sardonically, tuning her bass. "The way everyone just jumps right in and does whatever they're asked." "Oh, that reminds me, Rue," Nigel said, recalling something of slight importance. "Your bass sounded a little too loud in your audition. I could barely hear Lizzy's keyboard." "Oh, _was_ it?" the kitten asked, suddenly slightly affronted. "Just a little," Nigel replied, unwittingly courting disaster. "I _see_..." Rue mused. "Can we talk about this?" Lizzy played an improvisation on "Rhiannon", but otherwise said nothing. "Don't see why not," Nigel replied pleasantly. "Excuse us a minute, won't you?" The others rolled their eyes. _When_ would he ever learn? Nigel and RuBarb went into a small cubicle adjacent to the music room and closed the door. "Now, what was it you wanted to say?" they heard him ask. Before you could say "Oops!", they heard the sound of Rue's razor-sharp claws unsheathing, followed by a loud 'swoosh!'. This, in turn, was followed by Rue storming out of the room. The rest of the Loonies peered in, and sure enough, there was Nigel, laid out on the floor like so many animated rashers of rat bacon! Sheepishly, he remarked, "Um... we had a slight difference of opinion." "In what way?" Lizzy inquired. "I think her bass was a little loud, and she believes that I am a jackass..." -0- Adam Fox was not exactly a happy toon that evening. Here he was looking forward to an evening with Lizzy (even if it meant having to spend it in the company of the rest of her family); instead, he was, as Lizzy had explained, passing the evening at the Acme Gazette. "How do you like that?" he sighed, seated at his temporary desk, where he was dressed in a trench coat and fedora with a press card sticking out of the headband, just like the reporters in the old movies used to do. "My first assignment as a reporter for this paper and what do they give me? The society pages! Of all the reasons to miss a date! Ah, well, work is work," he shrugged, dialing the number he'd been given. "Hello? This is Adam Fox from the Acme Gazette and... yes, I'll hold..." he sighed, as the sounds of The Beastie Boys blared over the phone. "Well, I guess it does make a change from that horrible muza... Oh, hello?" He then proceeded to reintroduce himself to the person at the other end, who happened to be Roderick Rat! "Didn't I just talk to you people yesterday?" Roddy asked. Adam shuffled through the notes on his desk. "Um... no, not that I know of..." He then went through the drill of asking Roddy the exact same questions that Bobbo had asked him earlier, and then, his cub reporter's instincts kicking in, decided to veer from the script. "As a matter of fact, Roderick, all of us reporters at the Gazette _have_ to identify ourselves... what's that beeping? You record all your phone conversations? I _see_... you know, this could be worth investigating, here..." "What was that?" "Oh, nothing, just thinking out loud... well, thank you very much, Roderick. Listen, I'll get in touch with you later... okay, thank you. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and thought to himself excitedly, "Forget the society pages, Adam! You've got a _story_ to track down!" Meanwhile, in his Perfecto headquarters, Roddy drummed his fingers on his desk, and then decided it was time for action. After all, if anybody was going to make a fool out of Roderick Rat, it was going to be him! He paused briefly. Somehow, that last bit of logic just didn't _sound_ right, even to him. He shrugged it off, and then yelled at the top of his lungs, "DANFORTH!!!" The drake of dubious distinction was there in an instant. "Yes, Roddy?" "That call from the Gazette yesterday... you didn't erase that yet, did you?" "Um, no... sorry... I'll do it now..." "You'll do no such thing!" Roddy barked. "Danforth, for once in your life, you actually have a chance to do something _right_..." The drake looked at him curiously. "Are you _feeling_ okay, Roderick?" -0- Ruby was almost beside herself as she parked her Prowler in the Perfecto parking lot Wednesday afternoon and stormed through the building, making a beeline straight for Roddy's office. A sexy lioness named Leona, whom Ruby instantly recognized as the Perfectoid who had fouled Elmyra into the bleachers during their earlier exhibition game, tried to stop her. "Excuse me, you can't go..." she said, standing in Rhubella's path. "I'll go wherever I darn well please!" Ruby snapped back, shoving Leona against the wall. Clearly, this was not the time to trifle with her, as she pounded on Roddy's door. "RODERICK!!!" "Yes... oh, hi, babe..." "What the heck is that bimbo doing here?" "What bim..." He followed Ruby's arm, which pointed to a sprawled and slightly woozy Leona. "Oh, _that_ bimbo. Don't know. What are _you_ doing here?" "I've got a few words to say to you, Roderick Llewellyn Rat!" Roddy casually looked at his watch. "Yes, well, they'll have to wait. I'm expecting a visitor..." "I'll just _bet_," Ruby snarled menacingly, as a knock on the door interrupted her. "Oh, that'll be him now," Roddy stated. "'Him'? Well, I'll get rid of 'him', you can be sure of..." Ruby flung the door open violently, and then her jaw fell to the floor. "Adam? What are _you_ doing here?" "Just following a lead, Red," he smiled. "Is Roddy here?" "Er... yeah... Roddy? What's going on?" "That's kind of what we're trying to figure out, babe," Roddy smiled smugly. "Here's the tape," he said, handing it over to Adam. "Thank you," he replied. "Now, let's get to work!" With that, he put the message tape in his portable deck and played it back. Both Adam and Roddy furrowed their brows as they listened to the unfolding conversation. "No, it doesn't sound like one of _our_ people," Adam noted. "And that background music... if that's what you can call it... they haven't got anything like that playing at the Gazette, thank goodness..." "Roddy, would you please tell me what the heck is going on?" "Sssh... You know, I could almost _swear_ I know that voice," Roddy said thoughtfully. "But you aren't sure..." "I couldn't pin it down, no..." Roddy sighed in frustration. He turned to Ruby. "Some clown called us up yesterday pretending to be a reporter from the Gazette, and wanting information about the Cotillion, babe..." "I was wanting to talk to you about that, Roddy," Rhubella said, slightly annoyed. "Was it *your* idea to book the Loonies and hire Mrs. Carrotte and my mom to do the catering?" "Well, yes. I didn't see anything wrong with it. Besides, it'd make a change from the lousy entertainment and food we _usually_ have..." he chuckled, as a knock on the door interrupted him. "Wonder who _that_ is?" Ruby was already at the door and, again, pulled it open forcefully. "REALP!!!" shrieked the rat on the other side. "Nigel?!?" "Oh, hi, Carrotte. Come in, join the party," Roddy said cordially. "Wait, let me recover," Nigel replied, catching his breath. "There. I think I'm back... Oh, hullo, Adam." "Hi, Nige." "Nigel, what are _you_ doing here?" "Well, Rhubella, it's a long story. Roddy, there's been a slight change in our situation, musically speaking." "Oh? How so?" "Well, since last we talked, we went and added two more members to the band. I hope that doesn't muck things up..." "Oh, er, no," Roddy said absently. "I'll just have to change the pay scale to accommodate five musicians, is all. All I have to do is figure out how..." "Try adding fifty cents to the ticket price," Nigel advised him. "I have a feeling this lot won't even notice it!" "Not bad, Carrotte," Danforth remarked respectfully. "Very crafty!" "Well, of course," the rat replied. "I _am_ a banker's son, after all." -0- "Okay, be careful with those Marshalls," Leo said cautiously as the Loonies set up for rehearsals in Perfecto's main ballroom. "They don't come _cheap_, you know!" "Worrywart," Lizbeth kidded him. Meanwhile, Lillian and Rhonda were studying the lay of the ballroom, trying to figure out where best to set the buffet tables. "This is so exciting," Lilly practically sang, to Rhonda's amusement. "Careful, Lilly, you might get people thinking you _enjoy_ this!" "Well, I do! This takes me back to when Reggie and I were starting out in London..." "_Reggie_? Don't tell me there was someone else before Rupert!" "Oh, good heavens, no, Rhonda," Lillian laughed. "I meant my first catering partner, Regina. Lady Regina Purrington. 'Reggie the Veggie', we used to call her. She was a vegetarian before it was fashionable, which was pretty rare for a feline, even then. She was with me in the beginning, and became my assistant when we opened the first 'Carrotte's'. In fact, she's been my assistant for years. Helped me raise the kids, too." "So where is she now?" "Oh, she's still in London, overseeing the restaurant. We keep in touch almost every night. Rupert claims the phone bills are going to drive us to the poorhouse, but he spends almost as much time chatting her up as _I_ do. But enough about old times..." "Well, I don't know if I can replace her," Rhonda said uncertainly. "Don't worry about you replacing her," Lillian snickered. "Just worry about me replacing you!" "Wha??" "Rhonda, it's a joke!" Lillian laughed. "Now come on, let's get back to the job at hand, eh?" The two caterers did so while the band ran through a soundcheck, and finally, all were satisfied that everything would be perfect. As they left the ballroom, they didn't notice that Simper had somehow weaseled his way in, and was studying the band's setup _very_ closely. "Hmmm..." he mused, checking his watch and then setting the timer on an 'ACME Automatic Spring-Loaded Object Launcher' before carefully slipping it under the stage left Marshall amp. "By the time these idiots get through their first set, they'll have one flat rat." Of course, there were one or two things that Simper had failed to take into account... and they would ultimately spell d-i-s-a-s-t-e-r... -0- "Okay girls, listen up!" Lola told her team as they were preparing to board the bus for the trek to Perfecto Prep. "Now, I know that for some of you, this will be your first time playing at Perfecto, so basically, you're going to be stepping into enemy territory..." "Heck, Coach, _every_ away game is like that," Emily noted. The rest of the girls laughed in agreement. "Okay, a sense of humor, that's good, I like that; but take it from someone who used to see it from the other side, Emmy," Ruby cautioned Babs's sister. "In Perfecto's case, there's more truth to that analogy than you think. They'll use every dirty trick they can think of to try to win; and believe me, that's hard to do on a basketball court, in full view of the public..." "But it has been done, right?" Lizzy asked. "Like you wouldn't believe, Liz. They're past masters at it! Also, remember, we'll be on _their_ turf, so in essence, *we're* the underdogs now..." "Well, I've played against teams like that back in England, so I'm ready for them," Lizzy asserted. "That's the spirit, Liz, but speaking from experience, you couldn't *possibly* have played any teams like Perfecto over there. They just don't exist!" "We'll see," the British fembunny said defiantly. "I didn't come all this way to _lose_ to the likes of them!" "Well, just remember what you learned in practice, and we won't," Lola reminded the girls. "Okay, are we ready to win another one for Acme Loo?" "*YEAH!!!*" the girls yelled as they boarded the bus... -0- After the game, the Acme Lady Toonsters made their way back to their bus with heavy hearts. They were used to losing before, but never as badly as this. "I don't _believe_ it!" Rhubella said, the disappointment clearly evident in her voice. "That had to have been the _worst_ drubbing I've ever seen!" "Unless you count those old Steve Reeves gladiator movies," Miranda chirped, trying to throw some much-needed humor into the conversation. Frankly, though, even she was in less than a good disposition. After all, she was the one who had boldly announced that she had a score to settle with Coach Margot Mallard and the other Perfectoids, and that she wanted to do it on her own two feet... and when the chance finally came, she blew it. "Please, Miranda, we're not in the mood for puns right now," Robin Rabbit sighed. "Gee, Ruby, didn't _you_ ever lose at least one game?" Emily wondered. "Huh?... Um, well, yeah, sure I did... Just never that badly before. Let's face it, girls, we stunk up the joint royal. When did Perfecto get that _good_?" "About the same time _we_ got that awful," grumbled Marcia the Martian. "I never thought I'd say this, but I _miss_ Elmyra." "I can only _imagine_ what cousin Lola must be thinking," Lizbeth noted with an air of uneasiness. RuBarb added, "Well, you won't have much longer to wonder about that, 'cos here she comes now!" The team huddled together in one spot, not daring to look their coach in the eye. Even _she_ looked like she'd just gotten a hold of a batch of bad carrots. Pacing back and forth briefly, she turned slowly to face her team. The girls cringed, dreading what she would say. Finally clearing her throat, Lola said, "Hey, what _is_ this? A funeral? So we lost _one_ game. Big deal! It's not the end of the world, girls." "It _isn't_?" they chorused in amazement. "No, of course not. Sometimes, you have to expect these things," she shrugged, the barest of smiles on her lips. "Sorry, Coach," Miranda whispered nervously. "We... we really tried out there..." The tension was starting to get to her. In fact, she looked as if she might break down and cry at any moment. "It's okay, Miranda, I know you did," Lola sighed. "We'll just have to try a little harder next time, is all... Oh, Lizzy, could I speak to you, Miranda and RuBarb for a moment?" The three shrugged. "Okay, now I s'pose you're going to read us the riot act 'cos we three still have to play at the Cotillion tonight, eh wot?" Lizbeth confronted her cousin bitterly. "Slow down a second, Lizzy, I'm not going to. If I wanted to do that, I'd have done it already. Besides, I'm sure you've all been 'dressed down' before, and it wasn't fun for you, either." "Oh, you've got _that_ right," Liz conceded, remembering her Soho Prep days. "Ditto from me," Rue admitted. Miranda sniffed back a tear. "'Either'?" "What, you think I haven't experienced it myself?" Lola smiled, handing the mink a handkerchief. "I've had it happen to me when I was a young girl, and I swore I'd _never_ do that to anybody else. It's counterproductive, it creates bad feelings on both sides, and hey, who the heck needs _that_? Besides, that's hardly what I call 'constructive criticism'..." "Gee, I always thought 'constructive criticism' was 'Man, that's an ugly building! Who designed it, a monkey?'" Miranda replied. "You realize, of course, you've just offended every monkey in America," Ruby noted, as the rest of the team broke up laughing. "How?" inquired the mink. "By calling them architects," Emily snickered. "Okay," Lola giggled, "maybe I should have said 'encouragement,' instead!" "So... you're not mad at us for having to, er, 'work two shifts'?" RuBarb asked nervously. "No, of course not. With Lizzy, I should have seen something like that coming and been more understanding about it; but by the same token, I guess I caught you two especially off-guard by the timing," Lola admitted. "Whether or not it affected your game was something we'll never know. Anyway, it's over, it's history, so let's forget about it and get on with our lives, okay?" "Okay," the girls said, breathing a combined sigh of relief. "Oh, and girls..." "Yes?" "You really *were* good out there. They just happened to be a bit better... _this_ time. Next time, it'll be a _different_ story, right?" "YEAH!!!" -0- The Perfecto ballroom (what were you expecting, an auditorium?) was, to use Nigel's words, done up a treat. Looking around the room, Nigel spotted Lillian and Rhonda fussing over their setup as if they were caterers possessed. His Mum was clearly in her element here; after all, she did this sort of thing for a living. Conversely, Rhonda should have been *out* of her element. Oddly enough, she wasn't; a fact which didn't escape Rhubella's notice, either. Just maybe, Ruby thought, her mom had missed her true calling all these years. "Rhu-BEL-la..." 'So much for reverie,' Ruby thought. "Hi, Margot." The redheaded mallard approached her former schoolmate. "What brings you to the old stomping grounds?" "Couldn't you phrase that differently?" Ruby asked crossly. "Oh... oh, yeah. Sorry. Isn't that your mom over there?" "Uh-huh..." "Think she's..." "I kinda doubt it, Margot." "Any suggestions?" "Mmmm, try and stay out of her sight as much as possible," Ruby smiled. "That's going to be a little hard to do, considering I'm videotaping this for the archives..." "Oh, yeah. Well, go to plan 'B', then." "Right. Plan 'B'... Ruby?" "Yes, Margot?" "What's Plan 'B'?" Ruby grinned wickedly. "If she spots you, cringe, look sheepish, grin like an idiot and back away slowly." Margot stared at Ruby in disbelief. "*That's* Plan 'B'?" "You wanna go for Plan 'C'?" Margot thought about this. "Um... no, Plan 'B' sounds good, I can live with that..." Just at that moment, Rhonda spotted Margot and glared at her. Margot followed Plan 'B' to the letter. When she was well out of their sight, Ruby and Rhonda broke up laughing. "Mom, that was _perfect_!" "Of course it was, dear. I thought of it..." "Gee, and so *humble*, too... You think we should tell her?" "No, I'd say, let her wonder for the rest of the night. I'll let you know when she's off the hook with me... Oh, hello, Adam!" Rhubella turned sharply and almost bumped into Adam Fox, dressed for the occasion in a magnificent rented tuxedo. "Oh! Adam, what are you doing here?" "Covering the Cotillion for the paper, what else? Hi, Ms. R." "Hi. Oh, Lillian, this is one of Ruby's classmates, Adam Fox. He's a reporter for the school paper." "And temporary cub reporter for the Acme Gazette, but I'm hoping it'll turn into something more permanent eventually. You're Lizbeth's mother, aren't you?" "Yes. I think she mentioned something about you, too." "Um, yes, well, tell her I'll try not to let that happen again..." "What?" "Adam, why don't you go cover the Cotillion like you said?" Ruby suggested with a laugh. "Yeah, good idea, Red... what's Margot Mallard doing like that?" "That's _another_ story we'll tell you about sometime." "Okay..." Adam said, a little uncertainly, before returning to covering the Cotillion. "Charming lad," Lillian giggled. "Yeah, we think so..." Ruby replied with a grin. Behind a huge potted palm, Simper and Bobbo were keeping an eye on things as well. "Sir, you're _sure_ this will work?" "Of _course_ it will, you blithering nincompoop," Bobbo whispered sharply, yet with an air of overconfidence that had to be seen to be disbelieved. "You forget, this is an *ACME* product!" "I know that, and that's why I asked..." "Simper?" "(Gulp!) Yes, sir?" "Shaddup." "Yes, sir." They settled back to watch their handiwork, when and if it ever took place. The lights dimmed, which was the cue for the Loonies to hit the stage running, which they did with great elan. Nigel took his customary place at center stage for the first song, which he managed to tie in to the Acme team's sound thrashing at the hands of the Perfecto squad earlier in the evening. "Well, for those of you who didn't catch the score, it was, regrettably, Perfecto 98, and Acme... er... well, I'm almost ashamed to say it, so I shan't." This met with hoots of derisive laughter from the Perfectoids. "So, we'd like to dedicate our opening number to your stunning victory tonight. It's called, 'Run, Runaway'! 1, 2, 3, 4!" Miranda opened the song in grand style, and, as usual, Nige eventually declared, with more gusto than was called for, that he liked black and white. "Thank you!" Nigel said after the song was over. "And now, for some odd reason we haven't figured out yet, we turn center stage over to the one, the only Ä and girls, 'e's available, 'cos he's just been fired Ä Lionel Carrotte!" Miranda gritted her teeth, as did the Perfecto boys, when Leo took center stage and the Perfecto girls quickly took notice of this new lead singer. The only difference being, of course, that Miranda held it in better. From their hiding place behind the palm, Simper and Bobbo also took notice. "What?" Bobbo hissed. "Simper, _this_ wasn't in our plan..." "Well, excuse me for not consulting with them beforehand!" Simper snapped. Lionel cleared his throat, stepped up to the mike, struck a chord on his 12-string... and that's when the device under the stage left Marshall sprung ahead of schedule, catapulting the giant speaker several feet into the air in a magnificent arc that was a wonder to behold. "Strange," Nige observed as if this were nothing unusual, "it's never done _that_ before!" Unfortunately, when it started its descent, it was headed straight for center stage... and... "LIONEL!" Miranda shouted, dropping her sticks and vaulting herself over the drums before anyone could stop her. With as mighty a push as she could muster, she shoved Leo out of the way to stage right... just before, to everyone's horror, the Marshall crashed squarely on top of her, shattering to bits, breaking her glasses, and generally flattening her! "GASP!" everyone gasped. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Miranda screamed. Quickly, the lights came up, as Ruby, Roddy and the Loonies hurried to her side, joined by Margot and Danforth. In the interim, nobody noticed Bobbo and Simper rushing out. "Oh dear, I forgot the object launcher!" Simper fretted. "No need to worry, Simper," Bobbo assured him. "I've planned for just such an occurrence. I'll explain later. Right now, let's get as far away from here as possible!" This they then did. Meanwhile, the Loonies were gathered around Miranda, who was still flattened like yesterday's pancakes, and whimpering in pain. "Quick! Get her out of frame!!" Ruby barked fiercely. "But Rhubella, what good will _that_ do?" Danforth wondered. "Don't ask, you idiot, just DO it!" Ruby commanded. Knowing what she knew about Miranda's past, she'd be darned if the little mink was going to waste more years in that wheelchair... especially if she didn't have to. Finding an empty table, Roddy and Nigel gently laid the stricken mink on top of it and moved out of frame. Both of them were obviously shaken, but performed their task admiringly. Meanwhile, Ruby breathed a silent prayer and hoped that this would actually work. "Well, now what?" Roddy asked sullenly. "Let me guess. You don't have such a thing as 'Toon Physics' in _your_ curriculum, do you, mate? If your girl's done 'er homework," Nigel replied, looking at his watch, "she'll say to bring 'er back in frame right about now." "Okay, bring her back in!" Ruby yelled. "See?" Nigel winked, reaching for one of Miranda's paws. Not sure just what he was doing, Roddy did likewise; and together they helped the now restored mink back into frame. "You two can let go of me now," Miranda replied with a smile, as if nothing serious had happened to her. "I'll be okay!" she added, rubbing the back of her neck. "Neck's a bit sore, but that's about all." "I guess this means the rest of the gig's off then, eh?" a downcast Nigel wondered, looking at the remains of the beloved Marshall. "I guess so," an equally downcast Roderick replied, and not without good reason. As head of the Cotillion committee, he would ultimately be held responsible for this fiasco by the Board of Regents (who were already holding him responsible for everything but the sinking of the Titanic). "It's off when I _say_ it's off!" Miranda snapped at them, surprising the both of them. "Somebody lead me back to the drums!" Leo, although just as shaken as everyone else, was more than happy to oblige. Sitting back down on her drummer's throne, she asked, squinting, "Now, where's my jacket?" "Here you are," RuBarb said, handing it to her. The little mink fished around in the pockets until she found another pair of gold-rimmed glasses, which she smartly put on. "You don't think I'd go anywhere with only _one_ pair of specs, do you?" she smiled. "Wish we could say the same for our speakers," Leo said mournfully. "That's all we had..." "Just sit tight, you guys," Roddy declared. "Danforth, we've got an extra set of Marshalls in the music room, don't we?" "Well, yes, Roddy, but..." "But NOTHING!" he snapped back. "Help me get them in here." Turning to a stunned Ruby, he added. "We'll be right back." Stepping outside the ballroom, Danforth suddenly had a question. "Er, Roderick, you aren't _serious_, are you? This would, after all, seem to be the perfect chance for you to humiliate them..." "Quiet, birdbrain! This isn't exactly what I had in mind, but I think I _finally_ figured out how to get in good with their old man once and for all!" "I don't quite follow..." "Then pay attention. We give them the use of our speakers, which saves the gig, which saves face with them, and makes us look good in the eyes of Carrotte _paterfamilias_. Thus, he'll be so grateful we saved their bacon, he'll _have_ to do us a favor in return, you see?" "Ohhhh.... I see!" It took only a minute for the duo to bring the replacement speakers (although they only really needed one), even less time for Leo to hook them up, and even less time than _that_ before The Bloomin' Loonies were back in business, to a successful reception. After the show was over, the group approached Roddy with a different attitude altogether. "Well, Roderick," Nigel said, almost scrounging for words. "I... I hardly know what to say..." "Then don't say anything," Lionel chided him. "It's been an otherwise perfect evening so far, why ruin it now?" "You were _born_ to be a bleedin' diplomat, weren't you, Leo?" Nigel sighed in exasperation, while Miranda gave Leo a dirty look that seemed to say, 'Define 'otherwise perfect'. "Anyway, we want to thank you for the use of the speakers. Practically saved our hides, so to speak." "Wasn't _that_ big a deal," Roddy shrugged. He was playing them up for fools big time, and they were buying right into it. "Well, it was to us," Lizbeth replied. "I suppose this is where we do the gratitude bit now, chaps,' the albino rat continued. "Nigel, do we _have_ to?" RuBarb pouted, tongue in cheek. "Can't be helped, luv. It's an honour thing. Roderick, if there's ever anything, and I _do_ mean *anything* my family can do for you, you just name it!" "As long as it doesn't involve taking a flying leap through a rolling doughnut," Miranda added with a grin. "W-ell, I can't really think of anything at the moment, but if something comes up, I'll be sure to let you know..." "Fair enough." It was then that Danforth opened his beak. "I'm going to assume you want your 'speaker driver' back," he said, presenting Leo with the ACME device. "I _beg_ your pardon!" Leo growled resentfully. "That _isn't_ ours!" He was just about ready to smash it to bits then and there (preferably over a pointed object, like Danforth's skull!). "Hang about!" Nigel said, carefully taking the device from Leo and looking it over. "Never seen one of _these_ before... Miranda?" "Yeah, Nige?" "You're the techno-whiz. Whaddaya make of this?" The mink carefully inspected it from all angles. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say it's an 'ACME Automatic Spring-Loaded Object Launcher'." "Wot makes you say that?" "It's stamped on the bottom." Groans aplenty greeted this small revelation. Undaunted, the mink continued. "See? It's right next to the label." "Hold on," Adam Fox asked. "_What_ label?" "This one," Miranda continued. "The one that says, 'ACME Automatic Spring-Loaded Object Launcher, Prototype Model. Great Fun At Parties. Amaze Your Friends. Caution: Extremely Dangerous. Do Not Use In Enclosed Areas.'" "Well, _now_ they tell us!" Leo scoffed, putting a protective arm around his favorite mink. "Go on, luv, does it say anything else?" "Um, lemme see... Yeah. 'If found, DO NOT return to Milleway's.'" The group took in one gigantic sharp breath. "MILLEWAY'S???" At that point, something clicked in Ruby's subconscious. "Adam, do you or Roddy still have that message tape?" Adam dug it out of his tuxedo and handed it to her. "Thanks. Can one of you guys cue this up on your system?" "Sure thing, Ruby," Liz beamed, taking the tape from her and placing it in the band's tape deck. The Carrottes' superior playback system, plus the acoustics of the ballroom, made the tape sound much clearer than it was. Ruby listened intently, and then her eyes lit up. "Of COURSE!" "What is it, Babe?" "Roddy, listen to that music. You recognize it?" He tried, but the melodies escaped him. "Never mind, I do. That's the same piped-in music they played at Milleway's when we were there! Pachelbel's 'Canon' followed by Ravel's 'Bolero'!" "EUGGGGGHHHH!" The Carrottes winced in disgust. "Who in the world would have the complete and total lack of taste to pair _those_ two... whatever they are?" Nigel wondered. "Somebody tasteless, I'll bet," Rue tittered. "Hold on," Miranda said. "You guys won't believe this, but there's a signature at the bottom of the label!" "Well, don't keep us in suspense, luv!" Nigel said. "Any idea whose?" "I'm a techno-whiz, not a handwriting analyst!" the mink snapped back. "I could probably concentrate if this thing wouldn't tick so loud... Oh, wait a minute, it's stopped now." Suddenly, all eyes met in panic. "yipe..." Miranda cringed in fear, unable to move... or let go of the launcher! Quickly, Nigel seized it from the frightened girl's grasp and flung it as far away as he could towards any vacant spot, just mere seconds before the thing exploded with an ear-shattering *"KA-BOOOOM!!!"* that blew half the grand ballroom to smithereens! "*Urk!*" was all Roddy had to say. Miranda simply fainted. Halfway across town, in the upstairs office of Milleway's, Bobbo and Simper watched the explosion from an obviously safe distance. "As I was saying, Simper, I planned for just such an occurrence," he laughed evilly... -0- Nigel studied the damage calmly for a few seconds. "I can see it'll take more than a paintbrush and an art department to fix _this!_" Turning to Roddy, he said, "Well, Roddy, this _is_ a sticky wicket, int it?" "*Urk!*" "I know exactly what you mean, old boy. However, never let it be said that a Carrotte ever went back on their word. I'll speak to Father and get him to okay an emergency loan that should _more_ than cover the cost of the repairs, 'ow's that?" "*Ur...* You _will_?" "Certainly! Seeing as how, inadvertently, it _was_ sort of my fault you now have an open-air ballroom... but it was either that, or an open-air drummer; and frankly, that poor girl's been through enough for one lifetime, wouldn't you agree?" "You _do_ have a point, Carrotte..." Roddy conceded. "Thank you. First thing tomorrow, I'll speak to Father." "And while you're doing that, Nigel," Adam noted, "_I'm_ going to find out what _possible_ connection Milleway's could have with The Acme Corporation..." "Oh, _I_ can save you the legwork right now, Adam," Rhonda said. "They're both owned by Bobbo Acme..." "*WHAT?!?*" Nigel and Roddy shrieked. "I've heard of diversification before," Lillian noted, "but _that's_ ridiculous! How did you find _this_ out, Rhonda?" "I remember when I was trying to negotiate a deal for Petunia's Beauty Parlour. She wanted the building next door to Milleway's, but it turned out that Bobbo owns both of them, and the price he wanted for it was just too much. We finally had to find another location." "You don't really think Bobbo's behind this, do you?" Ruby asked, perplexed. "With _his_ standing in the community?" "No, _that_ would be stretching credibility to the breaking point," Adam acknowledged reasonably, "unless you're willing to believe that he did it to ruin 'Carrotte's' reputation, _or_ that he's still sore about losing Perfecto Prep, _OR_ that he held Roddy and Nigel responsible... for..." With each theory he ticked off, the room got quieter and quieter. "Yep," Ruby finally noted ironically, "sounds pretty ridiculous to me, too! Liz, could you...?" "Way ahead of you, Rhubella," Lizbeth replied, cuing up the message tape and playing it back. This time, Roderick listened closer to it. The look on his face told anyone who saw it all they needed to know. "I don't believe it," he muttered. "That _is_ Bobbo!" "That doesn't really prove much," Adam cautioned. "It proves enough for _me_, mate!" Leo growled, looking from Nigel to Miranda, who had finally revived. "Besides, I think it's illegal to go round passin' yerself off as someone else..." "If that's the case, I know some so-called teachers who are in *big* trouble," Lizzy commented. "Well, even so, we can't just go about takin' the law into our own paws, now... can we?" Nige asked uncertainly. "Why not? They do it on T.V. all the time," Miranda countered. "Miranda, that's just television. We're talking real life here..." "Somebody tell him," Rue noted dourly. "Besides, we may not _have_ to." "You've got an idea, luv?" RuBarb smiled cryptically. "A _big_ one, Nige... the _biggest_, in fact..." -0- Bobbo was in his Milleway's office the following Monday, going over the day's profits, when Simper hurried through the door. "Simper," Bobbo growled, "I believe I left orders that I was not to be interrupted. That means I wish to see no one. No visitors..." "I know, sir," Simper replied nervously, "but I think you may want to see _these_ two..." The door suddenly crashed down on him, propelled by the sheer mass of a feline Bobbo knew only too well, followed by a fox in a trench coat. "Ouch..." "Well, Harry Purrenstein. What brings you back to Acme Acres _this_ time?" Bobbo asked calmly. "Cut the act, Acme," Harry growled in his sonorous deep voice. "Oh, I do believe you know Mr. Adam Fox?" "No, can't say I do," Bobbo yawned. "Of the Acme Gazette?" Adam said. "Make your point, Purrenstein, and then get out of my office..." "We'll see about _that_ one," Harry smirked. "Wha?" "I understand you tried out one of your new inventions recently at Perfecto Prep, with your typically disastrous results," Harry chuckled. "I haven't got the slightest idea what you're talking about," Bobbo replied, feigning innocence. "But do go on. You will, anyway..." "Yes... Bobbo, I wish to propose a buyout..." "A buyout? _What_ are you talking about?" "It's very simple. I've been thinking of expanding..." Bobbo looked askance at the huge feline, and snickered. "From the looks of you, Harry, I'd say you've been doing more than thinking about it..." "Very funny, Acme. Let me lay the cards on the table, then. I'm interested in acquiring Milleway's." Bobbo had to restrain himself to keep from busting a gut. "You're kidding, right? _You_ want to go into business with _me?_" "Oh, you misunderstand, Acme. I never said _you'd_ be a part of it." "Wha?" "That's the second time you've said that in this conversation. Tch, tch, tch," he scolded. "Has your vocabulary finally become as limited as your imagination, old boy?" Purrenstein grinned maliciously. "I'm talking about a hostile takeover. Emphasis on 'hostile'." By this time, Simper had managed (with a great deal of effort) to extricate himself from under the door. "And _what_ if I refuse?" "Then Mr. Fox here publishes the story about how you attempted to deliberately flatten one Lionel Carrotte with a Marshall speaker, catapulted with great force from a... what was it, Adam?" "An 'ACME Automatic Spring-Loaded Object Launcher'," the fox replied. "'Prototype Model'." "Thank you, Adam," Harry said, and Adam nodded politely in response. Purrenstein continued. "...Which later exploded, causing enormous damage to the Perfecto Prep grand ballroom. In the course of events, said speaker wound up flattening an Acme Loo student, one Miranda Mink, causing her grievous bodily injuries, breaking her glasses, and also shattering the speaker, have I got it right so far, Boobo?" "That's BOBBO!" "Of _course_ it is... Boobo..." "Shows you what you know," Bobbo spat out contemptuously. "It was Nigel..." "What was that again? Speak up, man!" Harry demanded irritably. "I said, I was trying to flatten _Nigel_ Carrotte with it! Good lord, are you hard of hearing, Purrenstein?" Bobbo yelled. "No," Harry replied calmly, as Adam opened his coat to reveal that he was tape-recording the whole conversation! "I can only trust the grand jury AND the F.T.C. won't be, either." The rate at which the color drained from Bobbo's face could only be measured in nanoseconds. "Why... but... Purrenstein, that's _blackmail!_" Acme sputtered. "Big deal," Harry replied nonchalantly. "Milleway's. Hand it over... *NOW!!!*" he roared, causing Bobbo's suit to fly off him and out the window, leaving him in only a gaudy pair of bikini briefs! "Well, what do you know? Adam, I would never have figured him for a tiger underwear guy," Harry laughed. Adam quickly whipped out his camera. "Neither will our readers," the fox chuckled. Sure, it went against everything he believed in as a journalist; but in the immortal words of Daffy Duck, what the hey? He had to have _some_ fun! "All right!" Bobbo snapped, crouching behind the desk and reaching for the ownership papers. "Here you go! Take the darn thing! I was... um, going to close it anyway! Losing money hand over fist, you know, heh heh..." "That's too bad, old man," Harry yawned unsympathetically. "Maybe you just weren't cut out to be a racketeer... er, restaurateur..." "Very funny, Harry! Just give me a couple of minutes to get another suit on..." Harry considered this briefly. "No. Get out of _my_ restaurant. Now. And take that grovelling bootlicking lackey of yours with you... before I remember that I haven't had my power brunch yet!" He smiled broadly, revealing two rows of pearly white, very sharp teeth. Bobbo and Simper got the hint immediately, if not sooner! As the two of them made tracks, Harry couldn't help but laugh gleefully. "I _love_ hostile takeovers, Adam. They're so much _fun_!" "But, Mr. Purrenstein, isn't this... well, _illegal_?" "You ever play poker, lad? The secret is all in knowing how to bluff. Which reminds me... may I see your tape recorder?" Adam handed it to him, whereupon Harry removed the head cleaner cassette that had been in it the whole time! "Thank you." "I think I'm beginning to see what you meant," Adam said admiringly. "But, um, won't he be upset when he finds out he's been had?" "Oh, no more than usual. I do this sort of stuff to him all the time. However, I won't tell him if you won't." "Fair enough." "One more thing, Adam... you _will_ understand if I request that this little, um, escapade, doesn't make the papers?" "Are you kidding? It was worth it just to see the look on Bobbo's face! And to be honest, I've always thought he had it coming to him... although I _really_ wish I could print this story..." he added wistfully. "No, no, my boy... Trust me. I know Bobbo. The mere _threat_ of being publicly humiliated will do more to keep him in line than if we actually _did_ it!" "Very well, I'll trust your judgement on this. But I thought this place was doing land office business..." "Oh, it is, my boy, it is," Harry smiled. "Bobbo was just trying to save face..." "In _those_ shorts?!?" Harry almost collapsed from laughter. "You have a point, son!" "Thank you. But I'm just curious, sir... now that you've got it, are you going to _keep_ Milleway's?" "What? Oh, good heavens, no! If _I_ owned a restaurant, I'd wind up eating all the profits within a week! No, other people could use it more than I," Harry smiled, as he phoned his lawyers, Flotsam and Jetsam, to negotiate the legal change of ownership. "First things first, though. I propose eliminating the stench of that horse thief Acme from this place as soon as possible; and the best way to do that," he added, "is with a change of name..." -0- The next day, as Ruby headed out to the parking lot after a particularly hard day of studying, Rue and Nige came up to her. "Oh, hi, guys! What's new?" "Well, Mum heard from Perfecto," Nigel said elusively. "The bloody Board of Regents, yet!" "You're kidding!" Ruby replied in shock. "They never get in touch with _anybody_!" "They have now," Rue said. "And?" "Well, based on everyone's reaction to the splendid catering job by our mothers," Nige said calmly, before practically shouting, "we've got the contract to cater _all_ their events for as long as we wish! WE GOT IT, RUBY!!" Ruby screamed excitedly, hugging Nigel. "Hey, congratulations, Nige!" "As long as they don't blow up any more ballrooms," Rue added. Unfortunately, it was at that same moment that Roddy drove past. He carelessly glanced in the direction of Acme Loo, saw Ruby and Nigel, and almost wrecked his car! "Thank you, and the same to you! There's more..." Nigel motioned for Ruby to bend down so he could whisper in her ear. "Mum says she's going to use your mum as her assistant chef from now on, and she's got a job waitin' for her if we ever get the restaurant gig going..." "YES!!" Ruby shouted triumphantly. "I knew she could do it!" Meanwhile, Roddy was furiously storming towards the unsuspecting rats, and from his angle, something else was taking place, and he meant to put a stop to it for all time and then some. Whatever the heck it was. "ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT!!" he bellowed. "Get your paws off my girl, you... you Lothario!" The two rats quickly broke formation. "Roderick, you _idiot_..." Ruby pleaded wearily. "It isn't what it looks like, honest. If you'd only listen..." "Not now, babe. This is something that I've been meaning to take care of for some time!" he snarled, glaring straight at Nigel. "Oh, dear," Nigel sighed. "I knew this was gonna happen eventually. What is it you wanted, Roderick?" "Let's not mince words, Carrotte. I'm going to paper the walls with you!" "You _are_? How jolly! I hope you brought plenty of wallpaper paste, as I seem to be fresh out..." Nigel grinned. "*Enough* with the jokes! You might think being an aristocrat gives you the right to steal any girl you want, but not from where *I* stand, fella!" There comes a time in every young toon's life when he finally has had enough; and that time had *definitely* come for Nigel. "That's IT! Listen, _Roddo_," he hissed, "if this is about some imaginary tryst between myself and Rhubella, you need to get your head examined, because for the last time, there's never BEEN any! Where you EVER got that idea in the first place is beyond me! And if you don't trust Ruby enough to have believed her the _first_ hundred times she told you, well, then, I wouldn't blame her if she wanted to dump you; but it won't be for ME! And furthermore, and to wit, where did you _ever_ get the idea me and my siblings were some high and mighty la-de-da nobility, eh? Just because of our father? Sorry to disappoint you, mate, but that "Sir" title he wears is strictly _honourary_! We're no more 'to the manor born' than _you_ are! And after I've finished burying your snoot in yer trousers, mate, might I suggest you go to the library and bury aforementioned snoot in a copy of 'Burke's Peerage,' because in the case of my siblings and myself, that sort of rot _isn't_ hereditary; unlike, needless to say, the brainrot _you_ seem to be suffering from!! I've been a gentletoon up until now, but this rubbish has gone TOO bloody far!!!" This time, Nigel made no attempt to hide either his irritation towards Roddy, _or_ his cricket bat. By this time, quite a large crowd had gathered to watch the showdown between the two antagonists, and as Roddy could quickly gauge, almost all of them seemed to be pro-Nigel. This, plus the ferocious look in Nigel's eyes (and the lethal way he was wielding that cricket bat) was enough to nearly give Roddy second thoughts... but not quite. "No," he declared. "Peasant or not, I'm going to finish this once and for all!" "Oh, no, you're not!" Ruby snapped, stepping in between the two, to the surprise of both. "*I'M* going to! RuBarb, may I?" The kitten knew exactly what she was thinking. "Be my guest!" "Thank you," she replied amiably, turning her back on Roddy and facing Nigel squarely. "Babe, what are you doing?" Roddy blustered. "Might I ask the same question?" an equally befuddled Nigel asked. "What I _should_ have done a long time ago! Roddy, you want _proof_ that nothing's going on between me and Nigel? How's THIS for size?" she yelled, suddenly grabbing the startled Brit in a mad embrace and planting a smooch on him that anybody else would find hard to forget! Finally releasing Nigel, she stepped back to let Roddy watch his reaction. To his utter confusion, Nige just stood there, as apathetic as if he were watching The Weather Channel! "_Well?_" Roddy asked incredulously. "No offense, mate, but she doesn't do a thing for me," he shrugged candidly. "Nothin' personal, Ruby." Smugly, Ruby walked over to Rue and the two slapped palms as if they were tag-team partners. "Take over," she said. "Gladly," RuBarb giggled. Walking over to Nige, she planted a light peck on his cheek. The albino melted into a puddle before Roddy's startled eyes! "There!" Ruby snarled. "What more proof do you *need*, you bonehead?" "Um, er, ah..." Roddy was absolutely flabbergasted. "Gee, Ruby, I don't know what to say..." "Then let me say it for you," she bellowed fiercely. "How about, 'GOODBYE!'?" She stormed off to who knows where, RuBarb tagging along. Roddy started to run after them, but the sight of Rue unsheathing her claws just inches from his face was enough to freeze him to the spot! Meanwhile, Nigel still lay on the ground in a puddle, blinking. Byron Basset ambled over to him, sniffed, said a laconic "Woof," and was close to lapping him up when Nige suddenly raised his cricket bat. "Scram, mate!" Nigel ordered. Byron blinked twice, turned around, said another laconic "Woof," and shuffled out of frame, his cameo for the story over. -0- Roderick wandered dejectedly through the halls of Perfecto Prep, feeling lower than a politician's ethics. There was no doubt in his mind that everything that had happened to him lately was a disaster of his own making, and no one else's. He rounded a corner, and came face to face with Nigel, lazily leaning on his cricket bat. Roddy didn't even blink. He was too depressed to. "Well, hello, Roderick," the Brit greeted him cheerfully. "I was told I might find you here." "For Pete's sake, what do you want now?" "'Ave you forgotten already? You and I have some unfinished matters to attend to," Nige said calmly. "Oh... oh, yeah," Roddy sighed. "Well, go ahead, get it over with. I've already lost Rhubella, I figure a few teeth here and there won't even be missed..." "What? Oh, no no no, old bean, not _that_!" Nigel fished in his jersey and presented Roderick with a slip of paper. "'Ere you go!" "What the...? "Remember? I said I'd speak to my Father about that 'fixer-upper' loan for the ballroom?" Roddy's eyes went wider than two breakfast plates at the Acme Diner. "But... but this check is for..." He couldn't even bring himself to read the amount. "Carrotte, this would cover the repairs on a _thousand_ ballrooms! At _least_!" "Yes, I know. Funny thing, inflation..." Nigel smiled. "You know what's even funnier? Some time after _I_ talked to dear old pater about the loan, a couple of other people were talking to the bank about your recent, um, financial reversals... Convinced jolly old LonToon Bank that, shocking as it might sound, this place would still be worth makin' a long-term investment in!" "Who...?" "As I understand it, a couple of alumni, is what Father tells me. One of 'em lives out Boston way." Roddy had to hand it to Nigel. He sure knew how to spell out clues. "Let me guess... Harry Purrenstein?" "That's one," Nigel grinned. "And as for the other... well, after she talked to the bank, _I_ 'ad a bit of a chat with _her_ and convinced 'er that there was another crumblin' edifice around 'ere that, believe it or not, was still worth investing in, if you know wot I mean, and I think you do. It took some talking, let me tell you, but I think I managed to change 'er mind." Nigel peeked back over his left shoulder. "Int that right, Ruby?" "If you say so, guv'nor," Rhubella replied in a harsh Cockney accent as she emerged from her hiding place. "Er, Roderick, would you _listen_ to me for a minute, please? Nigel and I were celebrating that the Board of Regents had given our moms the Perfecto catering contract. Nothing more. You can check with them if you like." "R-Really? That's all it was? Honest??" Roddy asked, flabbergasted. "Honest," Ruby replied, finally allowing a tired smile to cross her features. "Nigel's a classmate, he's a dear friend, but _that's_ where it stops. Roderick, I've just got room for *one* rat in my life, and, heaven help me, you're it. I've never lied to you before, and I never will. So can we call this mess overwith now? _Please_?" Roddy carefully pondered Ruby's words for a minute. It was true, she had never once lied to him. He didn't know why he'd not taken that fact into consideration from the beginning. "Oh... all right," Roddy said finally, offering his paw in Nige's direction, and smiling. "I suppose so..." Nigel shrugged. "I guess if that's as good as I'm gonna get... oh, wot the 'eck?" And the two shook paws like they were long lost relatives. "Well, this is where I take my leave, then," Nigel bowed. "Oh, and Roddy?" "Yes?" "For the bloody love o' Mike, will you at least _try_ not to make such a hash of either of these things again? The bank cancelling the loan would be *one* thing, but..." "Er... never mind, Nigel," Roderick admitted, finally calling him by his first name. "I get the picture." "It sure *took* you long enough," Ruby murmured. -0- Nigel strolled absently around the Acme Loo campus later that day, feeling unbelievably depressed. In spite of the fact that he'd done his two good deeds for the day, there was still a nagging doubt gnawing at him, and all the good deeds in the world wouldn't make it go away. He needed to know, for his own peace of mind, just where he stood with a certain gorgeous vegetarian feline. If RuBarb wanted nothing more to do with him, he could understand why (heaven knows, it wouldn't be the first time a girl he was crazy about would reject him because of his station in life) but that didn't mean he'd be happy about it. As fate (or maybe it was careful planning) would have it, he found himself at the front steps of her dormitory just as she was going out. He steeled his reserve and cleared his throat. "*Ahem...*" "Oh, hello, Nigel," Rue said, noticing his downtrodden expression. "Something wrong?" "Er, well, possibly," he muttered. Rue could tell this was serious, whatever it was. She sat down on the top step and motioned for him to join her. "RuBarb, there's something I need to ask you, but I don't quite know how..." "Well, just ask it, then," she responded. "What do you want to know?" "Rue, are you as disappointed in me as you 'ave every right to be?" Nigel asked with a sigh. "Why, because you weren't born, and I quote, 'some high and mighty la-de- da nobility'? Honestly, Nige, you're _way_ too hard on yourself..." "Well, of course. Remember, I've had years of practice." "You've gotten quite good at it." "Thank you." "You're welcome." Rue took his paws in hers. "Nigel, why would you even think something like that would _matter_ to me?" "It wouldn't?" he asked, startled. "Of course not, silly," she smiled. Nige took one look at her and immediately felt ashamed of himself for even thinking such a thing in the first place. He'd always found it hard to accept that any girl could or _would_ like him for himself; which was why it always amazed him that he'd managed to win the affections of this gorgeous creature sitting next to him, almost in spite of himself. "I... I'm sorry..." he muttered, almost inaudibly. "Well, don't be, okay? Can I tell you something?" "Sure, luv..." "When I was growing up in Boston, all the really well-to-do boys were trying to hit on me, but I could tell they only cared about nobody but themselves. Most all of the guys at Perfecto are the exact same way. But you're not. I find that refreshing," she smiled. "But tell me something, Nigel, since you brought it up... if you and your brother and sister are so 'lower class', how did you _ever_ get into a ritzy school like Soho Prep in the first place?" "Ah, yes. The credit, or per'aps the blame, rests with our paternal Grandfather Carrotte. At one point, dear old Da stood to inherit the vast Carrotte fortune, but then he made what Grandfather considered to be an absolutely unforgivable blue-blooded blunder." "What was that?" "He met and fell in love with Mother." "Oh-oh..." "Precisely. Grandfather felt she was _way_ below his breeding, and on top of that, she was not only a commoner, but an _American_, to boot. Anyway, to make a long story even longer, a) Grandfather forbade Da to see her or have anything to do with her, b) Da let his feelings be known, in no uncertain terms, I might add, by spray painting 'NOBILITY SUCKS!' in large red letters on the front door of the mansion, and c) that was that. Grandfather disinherited him that very night. Said if he wanted to be one of the 'common' folk, then he could jolly well earn his living like one." "But I still don't understand..." "I'm getting to that. When we came of age, dear old Grandfather, for whatever purposes he had in mind, decided to sponsor the three of us and pay our tuition at Soho. I'm told dear Grandma Sadie talked him into it Ä 'forced' might be a better word - but _I_ suspect he believed that since his son turned out to be such a disappointment, that maybe the future of the Carrotte dynasty was _ours_ by birthright, even tho' I..." "... was adopted, yes," the kitten replied with a twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, 'ave I mentioned that before?" Nige inquired with as straight a face as possible. "Anyway, continuing, he hoped that _we_ would at last restore the honour of the family name. That's why it must have been such a shock to him when Da turned out to have developed such a keen business savvy and wound up making more money on his own that he _ever_ would have inherited in the first place, the British tax system notwithstanding, of course!" "Of course!" Rue echoed with an understanding grin. "So, we ended up 'aving to go to Soho Preparatory, in order to be proper aristos. Though, dear Granddad did NOT count on two things." "And what, pray tell, are those?" "The fact that dear Mum raised us to be good, honest, decent, and to consider others of our peerage to be examples of the worst possible behaviour. Second, the other students knowing that we are not that high up on the aristocratic ladder, and they considering us the next thing to peasants..." "Kind of like Roddy?" "As a matter of fact, just the opposite. I can't _stand_ 'im!" Nigel grinned. He was starting to feel better already, when he was interrupted by Lionel, accompanied by Lizbeth. "Ay, Nige! THERE you are! We've been lookin' all over for you!!" The albino rat squirmed uncomfortably. Leave it to Leo and Liz to ruin a perfectly good moment like this for him. "What is it, you two?" he sighed irritably. "We got it!!" Leo shouted excitedly. "That's nice. Got wot?" "Mum and Da got the restaurant!" Lizbeth added, at equal volume. "You're kidding!!!" Nige was flabbergasted. "When? *How*??" "Just five minutes ago," Leo panted, and it was only then that Nige noted that his siblings were practically out of breath! "Rue's old man just up an' _gave_ Milleway's to the folks. Didn't say why." "_He_ gave it to 'em? I thought Bobbo Acme owned..." Nige cast a sideways glance at his favorite feline, who seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to get back inside her dorm. He thought briefly about asking Rue if that was part of her 'big plan', then thought better of it. "And there's more," Liz continued delightedly. "About a half hour ago, we got a brand new stack of Marshalls delivered to us, with the works! We'll sound like a blinkin' _orchestra_ now!" Nigel threw his hands up in quiet frustration. "Send 'em back!" "WHAT?!?" Leo, Liz and Rue asked in astonishment. "Sorry. If the big, wide, wonderful Harry Purrenstein Ä no offense, luv Ä wants to extend 'is generosity to Mum and Da, that's _one_ thing; but _I_ don't 'ave to take part in it! I _still_ 'ave me pride, you know..." Nige proclaimed indignantly. Rue waited until he had finished. "If the candidate has stepped down from his soapbox," the kitten said pointedly, "I'd like to point out that the speakers and stuff are a gift to the band from ME! No strings attached." "They... they are?" Nigel queried, a tad embarrassed (not to mention surprised). "Yes, they are," Rue replied. "Just a little something from me and my allowance..." "Some allowance!" Leo grinned. "We're lucky if we get enough for a new CD player!" "We're lucky if we get enough for a new _CD_!" Lizzy exaggerated. Rue shrugged. "What can I say? Father likes to spoil me! Of course, Nigel, if you don't *want* them..." she hinted, leaving no doubt as to how she'd feel if he insisted on rejecting them. Lionel and Lizbeth each cast a look at Nige that more or less suggested the same reaction. "Well, don't _I_ look like the bleedin' poster boy for O.M.I.F.?" the rat mumbled. "O.M.I.F.?" "'Open mouth, insert foot', Leo," Liz remarked tersely, casting a sharp glance at Nigel, who was now completely and thoroughly chastened, and deservedly so. He nervously looked at RuBarb, and when he finally spoke, he found that he had trouble finding his voice. "Rue, what can I say? I'm sorry. That really _is_ a lovely gesture, and on behalf of the band, we'd be honoured to accept them. Thank you..." "You're welcome," Rue replied. "Oh, speaking of acceptin' things from out o' the blue," Nige continued uncertainly, "...apology accepted?" "You're still in one piece, aren't you?" she smirked. "She's got you there, brother," Lizzy laughed. "I'll say she does," Nigel agreed. "Well, come on, you lot. Let's go find Miranda and 'ave a look at our restaurant, now, shall we?" -0- Slightly later that day, the Carrottes, RuBarb, Miranda, Rhonda and Rhubella stood inside what was, for the moment, Milleway's. Sir Rupert had gone to the trouble of having *his* lawyers go over the ownership documents, just in case there might be a loophole Bobbo could use to take it back from them. To their surprise, absolutely _none_ could be found. It was now the exclusive property of the Carrottes, lock, stock and barrel. Sir Rupert said to RuBarb, "_That_ was your father?" Rue nodded her confirmation. "What a pity he didn't stick around longer." "He's funny that way," Rue shrugged. "Does his good deed for the day, and then goes home." "Sounds to me like he's been listening to one too many old Lone Stranger radio shows," Miranda mused. "Perhaps," Lillian agreed. "Well, be sure to tell him we appreciate it." "So dear, what do you think of it?" "Nice place, Rupert, but a bit stuffy," Lilly said. "We'll have to change the decor later. It's not British enough!" "Later?" Ruby asked. "Why not do it now?" Looking upward, she said, "Hey, fellas? We need a #3 makeover in here, pronto!" To the surprise of Rupert and Lillian, giant paintbrushes appeared from out of nowhere and completely repainted the interior to a more appropriate appearance. "Cor!" Nigel remarked in disbelief. "The teachers were right! You _can_ do anything in a cartoon!" "Might I try that?," Rupert inquired. "Go right ahead," Ruby giggled. Looking upward, Sir Rupert said, "Excuse me, gentlemen, but could you do something about that sign outside? It's *frightfully* outdated..." This time, a giant pencil appeared and erased the 'Milleway's' sign; then the brushes returned and painted in the 'Carrotte's' logo (an orange and green neon carrot against the British flag, of course) in its place. Rupert took one look at it and replied, "Smashing, chaps!" "Rhubella?" Rhonda motioned to her daughter. "Yes, Mom?" "Well... thank you for the pep talk earlier. Strange I can't recall ever saying that to you before, though..." "What, that bit about how you could do anything you had to do if you put your mind to it?" "Yes, that..." "Oh, well, actually, you told me that a _long_ time ago, the very first time I tried to change a light bulb." Rhonda chuckled as she remembered. "Oh, yes, of course. You wound up breaking it, didn't you?" "Well, I didn't know which end to screw in!" As everybody laughed at Ruby, she shot back, "Hey, gimme a break, I was only six at the time!" FIN. For now, at least... ;) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (C) April 21, 2000 by Jennifer Cleckley and Jerry D. Withers. All Rights Reserved. Version 1.1 revised July 8, 2001 by same. Version 1.2 revised July 31, 2001. All Tiny Toon Adventures/Looney Tunes characters and related indicia are (C) 2000 Warner Bros. Animation, Inc. Used without permission (as usual), but with a whole lotta love, respect, and a touch of nutmeg. The following characters are original: Nigel, Lionel, Lizbeth, Lillian and Sir Rupert Carrotte, created and (C) by Jennifer Cleckley. Miranda Mink, RuBarb and Harry Purrenstein, Rhonda and Roberta Rat, Leona Lioness, and Simper, created & (C) by Jerry D. Withers. Emily Bunny, created & (C) by KeV Beeley. Robin Rabbit, created & (C) by Colin Feder. Adam "Acme" Fox, created & (C) by Eric Richardson [Eric42], used by permission. "Boxing Day At Soho Preparatory": Lyrics by Jennifer Cleckley (C) 1998, 2000 by Jennifer Cleckley. Be watching for the next installment, BLOOMIN' LOONIES 5, Count 'Em, 5! Coming soon to a computer near you. TTFN! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~