"Once Around The Writer's Block..." v1.1 by Jerry D. Withers ("Furrball T. Cat")(e-mail: jwithers@tcfn.org) -0- Buster Bunny was feeling less than his usual cheery self one morning. Babs Bunny saw him approaching, and she noticed it almost immediately. "Hey there, Blue Ears, are those Bungle Boy jeans you're wearing?" she teased. "Enough with the 'no pants' jokes, already, okay?" he growled. "Ooooh, some bunny got up on the wrong side of gravity this morning!" "Babs, _please_! You know the first thing that's gonna happen this morning when we get to class is Foggy's gonna stick us with another boring lecture, or Sam's gonna give us a pop quiz..." His voice rose in hysteria as he imagined a ton of worst case scenarios that could only happen to an Acme Loo student. "Or worse yet, we'll have to sit through another one of Pepe's lousy sex ed classes..." Babs eyed him coolly. "If they're so lousy, fella, then how come you keep taking notes, hmm?" "You never know... I MIGHT forget..." "Buster?" "Yes, Babs?" "IT'S SATURDAY, YOU MAROON!" she yelled in his ears. That cleaned the wax out of them. "It _IS_?" he brightened. "Gee, thanks, Babsy. Now I feel MUCH better!" he said happily, tossing his books off stage. "So what are we gonna do today?" "Same thing we do _every_ day... TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!" "Get real..." "Sorry... Beats me what we're gonna do. It depends on what's going on in that blank slate of our writer's so-called mind." "Uh-huh. Speaking of which, who've we got _this_ time? 'Nefarious'? 'Plucko D. Warmer'?" "Just a minute, I'm checking," Babs said, pulling out a list of writers assigned to write that day's fan-fic. She read it, and turned pale. "Oh, no... not _him_..." "Who is it? 'Dr. Rodney...'?" "Worse than that." "How could it be worse?" Babs gulped. "It's... (gulp)... 'Hareball'..." Buster went ballistic. "HAREBALL? _THAT_ HACK? He hasn't written anything since 'Is Throwing Up All That Hard To Do?'" "And is it?" "Don't ask." "So, what's the problem?" "That's just it, Buster; he HASN'T written anything in over 2 months!" "Ah-ha! Writer's block..." "In his case, it's more like 'writer's _mile_'!" "I get the idea." "Pity _he_ hasn't," Babs grinned. "What do you think could be wrong?" "I dunno," Buster shrugged. "What say we ask him?" "You think that's wise?" "The truth? No," he grinned. "Okay, let's DO it!" Buster looked up from his surroundings and yelled, "Hey, you up there! Hareball! Down here!!" Up above the paper, in what passed for the real world, a forty- somethingish fella with short, greying brown hair, moustache and glasses shook his head. He'd either been working too hard, he thought, or he needed to get off this decaf stuff but fast. He looked down, and couldn't believe his eyes. There, amidst the tangle of handwriting that was trying to form itself into a story, were two small rabbits peering up at him, one pink, the other blue. They were smiling and waving at him. "That's it," he said out loud. "No more health food for me..." "Don't let Shirley hear you say that!" Buster yelled. "You don't have to yell, Buster. I can hear you just fine," the writer who called himself 'Hareball' said. Placing one end of a pencil at their feet, he added, "Hop on!" "We're too hip to hop," Babs reminded him. "Oh, yeah." Grabbing hold of the pencil, they found themselves carried from the written page to reality. He placed the pair deftly on his desk top. "I hate to say this, but did you know you're only two..." "Yeah, so we're vertically challenged," Babs snapped at him--but in a way that let him know she was already in on the joke. "It doesn't make us bad peop--er, Bunnies!" "Nothing could," Hareball reassured her. "Oh yeah? Have you seen 'Elephant Tissues'?" asked Buster with a grin. "Once, and that was two times too many!" He paused. "So, what brings you guys here?" "I think it was a #2 Ticonderoga," Babs smirked. Hareball groaned. "Actually," she continued, brightly, "we heard that you've been having trouble coming up with fresh, new, exciting..." Hareball interrupted her. "If you mean 'writer's mile,' yeah," he sighed. Buster and Babs looked at each other, amazed. That expression was really getting around! "Got any suggestions?" "Hmmm..." Babs was already deep in thought. Suddenly, she perked up. "I got just the thing for you, pal!" She reached into the page and produced, somehow, a steaming cup of java. "Compliments of Babs Bunny," she smiled. "Careful, it's hot..." Hareball took one sip of the stuff and reacted as if he'd been plugged into a wall socket! "WHOA!! What IS this stuff?" "ACE Mega-Jolt Coffee," Babs informed him. "They recommend 24 cups an hour." "Are you kidding? I hear this stuff kills on contact!" Babs squinted at him. "Are you gonna believe _everything_ you hear?" "I'm an American. It's part of my God-given rights to be extremely gullible!" he smiled, placing the coffee down in a safe spot, but eyeing it suspiciously, nevertheless. "Maybe I'll drink it later." "Well, don't let it sit too long," Buster warned him. "Why not?" "When it cools, it tends to congeal," he grinned broadly. Babs gave him her dirtiest dirty look. "I'll... try to remember that," Hareball said, eyeing the coffee even more suspiciously than before. "You think if I watered it down any, it'd help?" "I dunno," Babs quipped. "Depends on how far we are from Lake Mead!" "Thanks, I guess," Hareball replied. "So, you guys got any _tangible_ advice on how to deal with this?" "Yeah," Babs quipped again. "Don't drink it all at once or you'll start writing TTBS-type stuff..." "I meant the writer's block..." The Bunnies looked at each other, shrugged, and replied in unison, "Nope." "(Sigh) Darn..." "Except..." Buster added, "don't try forcing yourself. After all, there's nothing that says you GOTTA write something new EVERY month!" "He's right," Babs continued. "It doesn't hurt to take a breather now and then. Besides, you've got a small backlog of stuff. If you space it out, you should be ready... (cough)... to start writing again in a few months... (cough)..." "Babs, are you okay?" Buster asked. "Sorry, throat's a little... (cough)... dry..." Hareball placed a cup at her feet. "Here, drink this..." "Thanks... (cough)..." Babs said as she took a sip to wet her whistle... and reacted as if SHE'D been plugged into a power station! "EEYOWWW! What IS that...?" Then, she remembered. "Uh-huh... 'Mega-Jolt Coffee?'" Hareball grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Babs, I just couldn't help myself!" "HUMANS!" she snorted disdainfully. She turned to Buster. "I say let him get his patoot out of this mess himself!" "Babs," he sighed, "be _nice_..." "On my _own_ time," she answered. "Bunnies," Hareball sighed, grinning. "Hey, thanks for the advice, guys... and the coffee... I think..." "Anytime," the Bunnies replied, shaking his index finger. Babs turned to Buster. "This ain't gonna cut it, Blue Boy." She gave him a knowing wink. "Wha... ohhhhhh, gotcha!" he said. "Hey, Hareball, can ya set us down on the floor?" "I s'pose," he shrugged, "but why?" "You'll find out," Buster teased him. "See, there's this new trick we've been studying, and we wanna see if it works." "Say no more," Hareball replied. Setting his hand on the desktop, the two toons hopped in. "Hey, I thought you said you were too hip to hop!" Babs smiled. "We fibbed." "I'll accept that," he sighed, and set them on the floor. "Now, what's your trick?" "Just watch," Buster told him, raising a gloved thumb to his mouth. "Ready, Babsy?" "Ready!" "Go!" With that, they each blew as hard as they could into their thumbs, and grew before Hareball's eyes until they were at least 2 feet tall (give or take an inch)! "That's some trick!" Hareball said admiringly. "Isn't it?" Babs smiled. "Now, let's try that handshake again." "You got it!" Which they did. "Thanks again, guys. Why not take the rest of the day off?" "We'd love to, but we promised the gang we'd meet them at Weenie Burgers," said Babs. "Can you give us a lift?" asked Buster. "I'm not sure how long this stunt's gonna hold." No sooner had he said that, than the two rabbits began to shrink back to two inches. "Darn!" Buster said, snapping his fingers. "We REALLY gotta work on that!" Hareball carried them from the floor to his notebook, and placed them deftly in the middle of page 6. "Remember what we told you, pal... just don't force yourself!" "Got it..." "Or you could wind up writing for 'Captain Planet'," Babs smiled, as they disappeared back into Acme Acres. "See ya!" Hareball smiled. "See ya..." He looked around the room, and wondered if the whole thing had been a dream. He spotted the cup of coffee on his desk, and chuckled. He was about to reach for it when page 6 rustled, and, to his surprise, Plucky appeared! "Now what?" "You owe Buster and Babs $4097.23 for the advice and 1 cup of coffee!" "WHAT?" Hareball screeched. Buster reappeared, a devilish grin on his face. "Hey, _nothing's_ free, pal!" He ducked back into the notebook. "And I'm NOT leaving until you pay up!" Plucky added, tapping a webbed foot impatiently. Unfortunately, he forgot two things: 1)He was only two inches tall; and 2)he was still standing on page 6 of the notebook, which Hareball closed with a flourish! Maybe it was only his imagination, but he could've sworn he heard Plucky moan, "... (groan)... I _NEVER_ win!!" =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= (C) November 30, 1996 by Hareb... um, er, Jerry D. Withers. Version 1.1 (Revised) (C) February 4, 2000 by same. TINY TOON ADVENTURES Characters (C)1996 Warner Bros./Amblin Entertainment, and are used without permission. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=