TTA Fans

Live and Uncensored
The Fowlmouth trilogy

A Tiny Toon Adventures fan-fiction
by Brandon Blaze Raston
(aka Midknight Blaze)

Quick overview: Yo all, what’s up! My first TTA story has finally come to full creation. (And you thought “yo” indicated I was about to rap?) Much thanks to TTAfans for allowing me membership to upload this.

This story’s main focus is of course Fowlmouth as he embarks on an unknown road for money and respect, struggling with his inner turmoil that may cause him to lose everything and everyone he cares for deeply. (Talk about melodramatic) Keep in mind that in this fanfic (and probably most of mine) there is a universe and “Tooniverse” and no separation between cartoon companies- that meaning, characters are all in the same world not working for same company. The rules of Space Jam and Who Framed Roger Rabbit movies with humans still apply.This means humans will co-exist in the tooniverse, and humans dominate “3d land” completely. Those, for example, as Mary Melody and Elmer Fudd are still just toons, but, in the case of someone like Thaddeus Plotz, he would be human, even though appeared as a toon in the show.

During the trilogy several of Rob Paulsen’s voice-acted characters (Fowlmouth being such) will intersperse, so knowing your toonological knowledge, you can spot them all out- just a fun fact. All copyright information and references are at the end. Finally, while I did get Fowlmouth’s New York dialect down-pat for dialogue, I try not to over slang it out to maintain originality to Bug’s very similar speech. Now, let it begin.

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Part I:
I Know Why the Caged Bird Screams

Chapter 1: Circumstances of Victims

August 10th, 1995
Tooniverse, New Jersey

“You gotta be dad-gum kiddin’ me Rich!” Fowlmouth said, his voice going higher than its usual pitch.

Fowlmouth was in one of the dorm-housing facilities of the campus of U.F.F.I (University For Fowl Individuals). He was wearing a red turtle neck sweater, khaki jeans and red Chunk Taylor All Stars on his feet. His other clothes were slightly scattered because he was packing to depart, but now focused more on his phone call.

“What else do you want me to say?” said Rich Arons, the director of Fowlmouth’s Tiny Toon Adventures episode entitled “Test Stressed.”

“Maybe you haven’t grasp dis Rich, I’ve been kicked outta s’cool!”

“That’s not my fault F.M, so don’t bust my chops or my eardrums.” The toon director said bluntly. Fowlmouth visualized him sticking his pinky in his ear, and pulling out a literally busted eardrum. “Why exactly are you asking me for money?”

Most visible emotion in Fowlmouth’s face dropped off, his eyes unblinking
and his beaky jaw hanging low. This is only due to the stupidity he found in what Arons had just said.

“Hello?”

Composing himself from any materializing outbursts, he calmly said, “I did’ent mean payment die-rectly from ya Rich. I meant payment from my appearance on Bleep or Not to Bleep.”

The line was silent for a moment. “That was in nineteen-ninety Fowl.” He said obviously. “You should have received payment then, and if you didn’t, why in the name of Tom Arnold’s boxer shorts did you not-

“-I mean RE-PAYMENT Rich!” His annoyance was getting to him. He sighed, trying to relax and explain what he meant more unmistakably. “I’m toikin’ royalities man- is that it? Uh, you know what I mean- residual payments. Tiny Toons may be o’va, but d’hose shows have been rerunned fer… I don’t know how long. If’fin I’m rememberin’ correctly, since I appeared, I should receive some type of, of, of updated compensation.”

“Hmm, I know what you’re implying is about syndication, but as far as I remember, only bigger actors like the rabbits, Buster and Babs would receive a continuous payment of that manner.”

“WHAT?”

“Am I not being clear? Don’t be so surprised Fowlm-

“-My name is Farris, Rich.” He said firmly.

“Well Farris, don’t be so surprised, you were just a skit, something different at the time. Buster was the one who spotted you out as what he said was an “interesting prospect” as he said.”

Farris was taken aback so much that he slipped on some clothing on the floor! As it made him stumble, his elbow banged against a glass lamp, it tipping it over off the counter and smashing on the wooden floors! The phone cord started to tangle him up, so attempting to release himself, Farris jumped forward, only to be yanked backwards and smack into the wall hard! Leaving a huge dent in it, he was yanked into the air, high enough to now be hit by a panel of the ceiling fan! With that jolt and being wrapped up so crazily, the phone line swerved him around the room, cutting posters and smashing into wall furnishings! The unfortunate rooster came back around to grab unto his former roommate’s covers and bed sheets, but it was to no avail! He finally landed right-smack in the middle of the two beds, the tangled all around him reversing, he spinning with rapidity as he was freed.

“What’s going on over there? A new Die Hard movie? Sounds explosive enough…”

“Did’ja say, dad-gum, B-Busta?” He said laying on the floor, as if Arons hadn’t just said it clearly.

“Yes” Rich irritated that he had to repeat. “Who do you think put you on? They brought me in on it considering I was directing the other shorts anyway. So we lock our cameras on ya for a couple days, and, it was no wonder Buster had you as a recommendation: you were absolutely out of control!” Farris didn’t know how to react to this accusation. “Once we seen you swooning over Shirley McLoon, we decided that that’s what we’d focus the storyline on, and recorded it. And… that’s it.

“You, heartless…” Farris fingers clench and unclench as he stood up. “I uh… but… I-I feel so, exs’ploited…”

“What are you talking about?” Rich wondered. “Toons get recorded all the time without their knowledge or consent, for the realism. That’s just how it is. Don’t cry, ha, ha, it was just one skit.”

Now he was making fun of him, joking with his feelings. Feelings that were fragile and dearly personal to the rooster.

“I just directed it; I wasn’t in charge of payments. You need to get in contact
with the producers, particularly Spielberg. He likes hanging around you toon-types.”

[Spielberg? Spielberg? Is dis guy kiddin’?]

“He’s… too busy.”

“Make an appointment. I’m sure he has a second for a low-level actor such as yourself.” He stated simply.

“Low level actor huh? Just one skit huh? You know what: FORGET’CHA YA GODDAMN TO-TIMING DIRTY BASTAR’DA!!”

Farris was near berserk as he wildly slings the now cordless phone (caused by the current throwing) through the window, shattering it loudly! A bike-riding duck sees the glass plummeting and weavers, but is nailed by the unseen phone, clocking him sideways and off the bike as he and it tumble!

“Just the way you’d make your exit from U.F.F.I isn’t it?” Said a black rooster wearing a blue short sleeve shirt and dark brown shorts. “Leaving pure destruction in your path.”

Farris took a glance around the dorm room, it appearing as if it’s been through utter chaos! Farris glanced back and smiled sheepishly at his former roommate. “C-Chris, it’s not what it seems. I mean, I-

“-Just save it Mr. Fowlmouth.” He said, attempting to walk forward but found it was difficult given the obstacles he had to overcome.

“I’ll help clean up, alotta of this is mines anyways…” He managed to get out, trying to seem cheery, even though the agitation in him had already built up from his dialogs with Rich.

“Except that phone.” Chris stated dully. “Why don’t you hurry and pick your stuff up and just, go.

This sentence caused ample dejection in Fowlmouth, he almost not knowing how to respond. Chris Cluckster was one person he always could look to for advice. They worked together well, Fowlmouth always able to cheer Chris up with witty chatter and Chris always able to boost Fowlmouth’s ever-going-askew confidence, always to encourage him, never to degrade him. He was a rooster to be admired Chris, real good head on his shoulders. But, at the moment, none of that seemed to matter.

“Just go huh, Chris?” Was all Fowlmouth could lightly muster.

“Farris, like I said before, we’ll still friends, but the crap that I’ve been catching just for being such is ridiculous.” Chris started picking up scattered clothes and schoolbooks.

Slightly disgusted that what he was about to say probably was a fact, Farris said, “So, you want me outta here as fast as possable, huh? I’m just a dad-gum DISGRACE now, not worthy of dis acadamy, not worthy of bein’ in ya dad-gum presence?” He raised his right eyebrow on that final word.

Cluckster stopped picking up and stared at him for a long, intense moment. Chris stated simply, “I never said anything like that, YOU just did. You think what you want, but you’re not being kicked out for no reason…

“I agree! Dere’s a reason, but it is e-NUFF of a reason?!” Farris stated loudly, starting to pick his clothes up quickly, throwing them into a suitcase that had fallen on the floor.

“F.M, you lost it. You know you did- and for what? Because of some-”

“-Just SHUT D’UP!” He randomly exclaimed, looking up over to the near-astonished black rooster due to his offensive outburst. Farris wanted to make up for it, but what words could do it? Really satisfy as an apology? Saying “I’m sorry” surely wouldn’t cut it.

[Damn...]

“So what now Fowlmouth? You gonna curse me out next? Yeah, I guess that’s what you’re best at it’in it? Here I thought it might be anthropology, film history… just too bad they don’t have a class called “Mastering Profanity 101.” Man! Talkin’ A-student over here!” Cluckster remarked snidely, waving his right hand over to him for indication.

Fowlmouth’s brows narrowed. Amazingly, he just turned around and went back to the side of the bed he was originally on, trying to pick up the rest of his things as quickly as toonyly possible.

“Quite surprised I didn’t just receive a verbal blow.” Chris said in an awed voice. “Yet you didn’t want me to utter a single word about how-” Fowlmouth’s sharp and stern glance back at Chris is what put a stoppage to his speech. “Dear god, you really don’t wanna remember do you?” His mellowed rooster voice perceived.

Fowlmouth flip the locks on his suitcase. He grabbed his CD player, swiftly applying the headphones around his neck, sticking the player itself into his pants pocket.

“No… it’s dat I don’t have any memory ta begin wit.” He said not staring at him, picking up a pack of bubblegum off the counter where the lamp use to be, leaving Chris perplexed by his comment. He flipped the straps of a green and white book-bag around his shoulders, those colors weirdly matching his original Tiny Toon look. The stumpy rooster walked from around the bed and soon passed his former roommate and maybe former friend at this moment. Chris was still flawed by his last sentence and wanted to inquire on it, but rather that not be the response as he left. But, before he completely
exited, something had to be said!

“Fowl- I mean, Farris.” The luggage-burdened rooster had almost gotten around corner when he heard him. Farris honestly didn’t know why he stopped. “Uh, Acme Acres, right?” He asked in an easygoing tone.

“Yeah, Acme A’cas.” He said not turning around to him, starting to walk again, leaving Chris’s sight for good.

As he came out of the main entrance of the student housing building, he was forced to look to the right upon the intolerable ranting going on. He notices a male duck and chicken- the first sitting on the ground rubbing his head and the other tauntingly pointing and laughing in his face! The chicken ridiculed him by saying, “Ha, ha ha HA! And you said you’d managed not to be hit by a random flying object today- NOT!” she laughed on. “Ha, talk about Win, Lose or Kaplowee!”

Fowlmouth examined the area, and realized they were directly under the window he threw the phone out of!

“Hm, dang, Coincidental Irony.” he coined, “I know ye well.”

The sight of them seemed to diminish more and more as Farris focused pass them on the building in the distance: U.F.F.I. Farris couldn’t help but stand there and zone out. He had not completed his high schooling at Acme Looniversity. Most young toonsters aspiring to great fame have graduating from Acme Loo as one of their highest ambitions, a noble task of sorts to be proud of. But, for Farris, it was a goal that was tarnished, degraded and eventually began to fade in his eyes. Farris remembered before coming to the life-changing decision, he self-evaluated himself. He wanted to look deep inside, deep into that discouraged psyche and find what he needed to understand. When he did, to find everything he stood for, what others had expected of him, it all dwindled down to a simple answer: curse words. Exactly what he was nicknamed after; how could this not have been an obvious realization to him far before? Did he delude himself? Or maybe it was just subconscious? It didn’t matter anymore, because the change was coming, a change intermingling with close regret and distant hope.

He didn’t know what to truly do when it came to the decision of dropping out. Farris honestly had never heard of a toon dropout. It seemed to be an unforgiving occurrence for humans going to school, especially those that live outside the toony realm in 3D land, but… what toon hadn’t gotten a decent education? And if he didn’t, how could he ever expect to rise to fame? Whoever that question referred to, he surely hadn’t ever heard of them, he figured. Luckily, just the day he decided to leave and walk off Acme Loo steps for the final time, he’d gotten the information on U.F.F.I, a school in Toon World’s New Jersey that only took the admittance of Fowls. It was excellent, and he knew this was exactly where he wanted to be- no, where he NEEDED to be. And, without mention to anyone but his mother- not even his oldest friend Buster Bunny- he was gone faster than a poetic “snap.”

And thus brought him his years here. Farris blinked his eyes, the nostalgic instances leaving him.

[Here I am plannin’ to go home but… I can’t tell moms. If she got woid that I got kicked out she’ll go dad’gum looney! And not in da cool Bugs Bunny way, I’m tolkin’ beyond ol’ s’cool Daffy Duck level! Glad I was signed up as “Indapendent” and dey don’t have any contact to her, otherwise, I’d be one fried chicken. Since goin’ home
doesn’t seem like an option just yet, guess dis is one I’m gonna have’ta deal wit alone…]

************************************************************************

Now seated on the airborne flight flying coach, window seat and all, Farris tried to put his mind at ease with a little musical enjoyment. With no one sitting beside him, he felt he didn’t have any obligation to concern himself with what anyone else would think, able to fully “Toon in” and envelop himself completely into the energetic rhythms. His bright red cockscomb bounced and wobbled about in more random directions than his head did to cause it. It was not a wonder that he’d be into nu-metal and alternative rock given the “Explosive attitude” most everyone labeled him of having.

His head adjusted and bobbed a bit more to the intensive rifts, and even though his eyes were closed, the apparent presence of a person standing in the isle became aware to him. He opened his eyelids, only planning to do so for a second to see if a stewardess wanted something in particular. From what he then viewed, he knew it was far from that. It was a purple feathered female duck wearing all black: black tank-top, tight black silky smooth jeans (With a hole for her purple tail) and black shoes. She had long pink pony-tailed hair that extended to her lower back, still having enough for a right eye covering bane. She stood straight-forward so only that side of her had been available to observe, but what a side it was. Farris’s tongue rolled out his mouth in a quite extensive manner! He swiftly yanked his head back to have it resume its position between his teeth.

[Wola, boga!! She’s an absolute HOT-DY! I’d kill ma-self lata if I didn’t at least, attempt...]

He cleared his throat. “Excuse’sa me uh miss, but you wouldn’t by chance have a boyfriend would’ja? Becuz if not, eh, heh, heh…”

She was not paying attention to what he was saying, but at a paper indicating her seating. Now turning to him with no eye contact, she says, “I believe this is my seat. Yes, it is.”

“Hey, I knows you!” Farris exclaimed, taking his headphones off. “You’re… well, let me think. Have you lived in Acme A’cas?” She sat down.

“…I’m going back to school there. Is this a line little chicken boy?

“Little chicken boy? I…” Farris was tempted towards words he didn’t want to employ. Changing his wording, he responded, “Uh, no.” Now being smoothly flattering, “But it would be no surprised if’fin I tried a line my ravishing duck co-seatee.” Smiling up at her gently.

She, actually making eye contact, glared at him for a moment, and then smirked. “Well, this is true…”

“But honestly, I really know ya from somewheres…”

“The name’s Margot. I go to Perfecto Prep.”

“I knew it!” He said with pre-thought assurance.

“So did you attend?” She asked curiously.

Farris leaned back in his seat. “Uh, no, I went to, well, your rival s’cool.” She eyed him sharply. “B-but, not anymore!”

“You still got that dreadful, insufferable teaching, so you’re still the same as rest of those sight-gag, double-taking loonies.” Margot stated smugly.

For a split moment, Farris didn’t think anything would be worth saying in his defense, especially given how serious Perfectoids took this issue. Somehow, he leaned forward with some new-found courage in him.

“You’re wrong. I’m not like any of them. How could I be? No one gave me a dad-gum chance. They were to dad-gum caught up into promoting themselves to lend a helping hand. I mean, I was on Tiny Toon Adventoires, but you don’t even know me!

“Besides some of Roddy’s involvement, which was not staged, I never watched that.”

“Oh, well, dis-knowledgment can occur dat way to…” He said candidly.

“To put it in perspective for you um, what was your name?” She pointed a purple index finger at him.

“Fowl… I mean, Farris.”

“Well Farris, your lack of success has obviously come from that learning institution.”

“Humph, big woids from’ma person who neva took a single class dere, sista.” Farris heard himself say in all honesty, feeling it was more daring than he had felt to be while speaking to this particular duck.

Margot’s brows rise, almost as if impressed. “Hm… touché, chicky.”

“Truthfully,” Farris started, “I just didn’t get any respect.”

“Hmm…” Margot released thoughtfully. “You know, getting respect is what Perfecto Prep is all about.”

Farris looked directly at her. “You say it like I can dad-gum afoird to go. Not that you’d want me to…”

“Actually, there is a way for you- and I’ve actually become intrigue in you, Farris…”

“Really?” He said deeply surprised, then smilingly, “Well if dat don’t pluck da feathers off my dad-gum back eh, heh, heh. How could I a’ford it?”

“Roddy- As in I’m meaning Roderick Rat-” Farris nodded, indicating he knew who she referred to, “-is being gracious this coming semester by giving out his own personal student loans…”

“Whoa! What da hell kinda- I mean how much money does he got?

“He’s only giving out three.” She answered simply.

“Oh. And, and you think I gotta shot at gettin’ one of d’hose dad-gum loans?”

Margot said, looking at him slyly, “…Only with my assistance.”

Fingers interlocked, the stumpy rooster stands up in his seat, waving his joined hands back and forth, groveling, “Ya just gotta, ya just gotta!” Many people begin to shush him.

“Would you sit down and get a-hold of yourself?” He does, smiling sheepishly.
“I will help, but we’ll continue this once we’ve landed and are on our way to the school.”

“Okay! This is freakin’ awesomeness!” Farris said, the anticipation already getting to him. “Oh, until den shall ya pa’take in jams of my CD player? No wait, how about my handheld video games? No, no, how about just dad-gum-” HUGE shushes and shut ups come! “AWW SHUSH YA-SELF! I’m trying to make ah goddamn impression here!” He stated sternly, turning back to her, smiling.

“Oh, excellent job so far Farris…” She said sarcastically.

“Why thanks Margot, I’m glad somebody-”

“-That was sarcasm!” She said angrily. She sighed to calm herself. “Just, just be quiet until we get there.”

************************************************************************

Chapter 2: The Return to Acme Acres

After picking up their baggage on the conveyer belt, (which Margot actually had people picking her three duffle-bags up for her) they walked out the airport busy with people and toons and on to the sidewalk near a secondary street for pick-ups.

“Damn that Danforth, I knew he wasn’t going to be here!” She said annoyingly, Farris heavily surprised that she’d just been profane. He shook it off, remembering that it wasn’t something necessarily off limits to a toon’s vocabulary. Margot pulled out an all black cell phone. “Did you need to call anyone? Cancel a coming ride?” She said, trying not to sound mad with the anger she was projecting at thoughts of her boyfriend.

“Nah, I-I don’t have anybody to call. I didn’t hav’va ride.” He said, it slightly coming off as unfortunate in the tone.

“Hmm, looks like I’m just your Lady Duck of Luck aren’t I?” She said, he smiling up at her, eyelids cut halfway over his eyes. The limousine she’d been awaiting for one of her baggage men to retrieve for the both of them finally pulled up. “Let’s go, chicky-pie.” Farris followed her inside after the driver/baggage carrier opened the door for the two of them.

************************************************************************

Farris adjusted himself on cushy black seats, having plenty of legroom as he looked out the window of the mobile car. Unstoppable reminiscence came flooding back. Margot, brushing her frontal pink bane of hair away from her right purple pupil, watched this curiously.

“Been a while for you, has it?” She asked.

“It’s almost been, three yer’s now.”

“And, you’ve been going to school back East?”

“Yeah, U.F.F.I. Hoird of it?” Margot nodded soundly. “That’s where I wents for my final year in high s’cool. Dey have both levels just like Pafecto or Acme Loo. I had some pretty damn-good- ah, heh, dog-gone-good times dere.”

“Good times? Wait, if things were so “die-no-mite” as you imply then why-”

“-I…I got kicked out.” He answered already knowing what she was getting at. His eyes bolted downward, unable to connect with hers anymore.

“Hm, well that’s not exactly good resume material Farris.” She stated amply. “So, why?”

He blew a small unnoticeable sigh and remained silent.

“Farris?” Trying to get his attention.

“I’d, I’d tell ya if’fin I even knew ma-self.” He declared bluntly. Margot eyes squinted as her head tilted to the side in absolute wonderment, a wild-take seeming like it would proceed next. Farris finally was able to confidently look and speak to her again.

“It’s was ah whole lotta nothin’ concerning nothin.” He said positively. “Just miscomunacation. None of dis don’ent even have’ta be mentioned.” He finished, waiting to gauge her reaction.

Margot had an assured look on her face. “Well, alright.” Farris felt himself blow a sigh of relief on the inside at her acceptance. “Here, enjoy the assets of luxury.” She grabbed a bottle of wine out of a small refrigerator and two wine glasses out of a glass casing. The red fluids shimmered brightly as it poured, this effect heighten by the positioning of the sun and beams it reigned down through the lightly tinted windows. After she lifted up the bottle to cease the flow, she stated, “This IS an alcoholic beverage ya know?” She said eyeing him. “How old are you?”

“Oh, dad-gum, nineteen.” He said, feeling kind of panicked from the question, like he had did something wrong. Then, shaking his head side to side rapidly then bringing it back to face-forward, “Wait-ah-minute! There’s no specific age range rules in Acmes A-cas!” Margot giggled from his sudden awareness.

“I’m glad you used that feathered noggin to remember that, but things have gotten a little more stable- or better to say- strict around here. Not that I or most respectable toons would allow it to dictate them.” Giving him his wined-filled glass. “But, I was just teasing really. I mean, ha, jeez Farris, you’re a grown rooster not a cockerel. You think I’d actually deny you a drink?” She smirked lightly at him, actually scooting over closer to the male chicken. He could only lightly laugh at the thought.

Momentarily, it was quiet as they enjoyed the very sweet and smooth Dynasty red wine. After another sip, Margot turned to him.

“So, anything you wanna ask me about beforehand? Any recaps?” She asked him.

“Well, ya know, Pafecto gave me the creeps when I was’sa kid! I’ve seen it in all dese eerie pics of the place lookin’ like its straight outta a Castlevania video game! And man! You guys made it woirst dressin’ like you were in na cult at times! I heard myths dat the place dad-gum stayed shrouded in darkness, wita eerie moon and stars hangin’ above, even when it was daytime fo’ everywhere else! Man, I tell’ya…”

Margot couldn’t resist too smirk at the not so inaccurate reminiscent thoughts. “We toned down a lot of that. It was unbelievably dreadful when it came to inviting and accepting new students.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He said finding it all amusing.

************************************************************************

In the lightly populated Perfecto Prep gymnasium, Roderick Rat- wearing a black tank-top and red gym shorts- was on a weight-bench pumping iron while Rhubella Rat- wearing a purple spandex outfit- was on a treadmill. She slowed the speed of it and hopped off, wanting to check up on her boyfriend given he didn’t have a spotter. Her right eyebrow rose because he was actually doing quite well.

“Wo-ho, Roddy, you are really getting buff…” Rhubella walked over saying happily, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “New eye candy, heh, heh.”

His ego being vibrantly stoked by this comment, Roderick said, “Don’t stare TO hard at the magnificent sight that is me- although…” He safely putting the bar on the rack and sitting up, flexing his muscles, “I know it be can hard not to, ha, hah.”

Ruby’s eyes cut low. “Although, you’d still take a pumbling from ol’ Arnold…”

“Heey, what are you tryna to say?” Rhubella just grined slyly. “Oh! Margot!” She yelped at her approaching best friend. Margot waved back as Rhubella and Roderick both noticed the short rooster walking beside her.

Roderick leaned forward, looking at him with more specificity. “Hey! I know that chicken! He’s a freakin’ Acme Loo Loser!” Pointing emphatically.

“No, I’m not!”

“You ARE!” Roderick snapped back, fists balled by his side.

“Roddy…” Rhubella said in a calming voice.

“Um, allow me to clear this up,” Margot started, “He is NOT of Acme Loo. Do you think he’d be standing here wanting a student loan from you if he went there?”

“Loan?” He said in a dumbfounded manner. “Oh, yeah, that.”

“Take it from me totally,” she said patting Farris on the left shoulder, “This chick’s on the level.”

“Hmm…” Roderick hummed, his thumb and index finger rubbing across his small brown furry goateed chin. “Walk with me, uh…” He said trying to remember his name.

“It’s Farris.” He said, holding out his white hand to shake. “Nice to uh, officially-

“-No, no, no you Chicken pee-brained Little, that wasn’t it! It’s right on the tip of my tongue…” the rat said, scratching into his hair to his head, trying to resurface his name from his memory. Farris was taken aback.

“Roderick,” Ruby said, “I think he knows what his name is. How are YOU going to tell HIM?” She wondered.

“I’ll have to second that. His name IS Farris.” Margot stated firmly.

No, I swear it was somthin- ah, skip it.” He grunted to end his unsettling puzzlement. “Come with me. I’ll see you girls later.” He said beginning to walk away at a speedy pace. “Ya comin’ or not?” Speaking to Farris, agitated he hadn’t followed. The rooster looked back to Margot unsurely.

“Go on Farris. I’ll see’ya around. Just tell’em what you told me. If anything extra needs to be said, I’ll say it.” She said, her soft, purpled palm gracing his left cheek. Farris smiled.

“Come ON!” Roderick yelled impatiently.

“Uh, right, bye Margot and da, Ruby!” Waving as he scurried along after the reddish brown furred rat.

“Hmph,” Rhubella begun, “He’s a peculiar fowl. You really think he’s “Prep” material?” Her black eyes cutting to Margot.

“Trust me, he’s got potential.” She said soundly.

************************************************************************

Now outdoors, they walked through some of the beautiful scenery, with elements such as short leafy trees, freshly cut bright green grass and cobblestone walkways outlining the area. THIS side of the campus seemed normal, but Farris could only imagine what the “darker” side had in store. They came to a marble made table and benches off the walkway path.

“Take a sit.” Roderick said, sitting himself as well. “So, why exactly do you wanna become a Perfecto Preppy all a sudden Farris?”

“Well firostly, Margot put me on to da idea when we were ridin’ a plane back from Jersey.”

“Ahh yes, Danforth did tell me she was visiting family.”

“Secondly, I did’ent really have anything else planned comin’ back heres. Dis has become my only dad-gum option.”

“Why not just go back to the punked-out Looniversity?” He questioned with a light growl in his voice.

“Becuz…” Farris started, but couldn’t finish immediately. “…Becuz, I just can’t.” He finally managed.

“Hm, fallout huh? I can relate in’na ways…”

“If ya don’t mind me askin’ Roderick, what’s the difference in gettin’ a loan from you and just, just gettin’ one started through da registration office?” He wondered.

Roderick couldn’t help a small smirk from appearing on his face. Closing his eyes he said, “The difference is that there ARE no student loans through the registration office.” He finished opening his eyes to him, slightly narrowed eyebrows and all. “The students of this school are of the wealthy variety Farris, but,” He said reassuringly, “There’s admissive situations of a different case, and in these, a few privileged attendants such as myself give a helping hand, or two.”

“Ahha… heh, dat makes sense.”

“How many classes you plan on taking?”

“Half a full-class load.”

“That’s ah twenty-five thousand dollar tuition.” He stated simply. “Sometimes thirty.”

“Twenty-five thou? For three classes in one semesta?” the rooster said confusingly. “How much is it wita full schedule?”

“That’s generally in the range of six or seven classes; that’d be forty to fifty thousand depending on other extensions being included or not.” Farris eyes were bugging out of his head. “We’ve gotten pretty exclusive, heh.” He then stared at the white fowl seriously. “But, your reaction isn’t exactly pleasing Farris. If these large sums are so flabbergasting to make you do those toon-takes, then, how exactly can I be confident in reimbursement?”

[This is a good question…]

“I, I’ll be able to pay it. My only real reason fer comin’ befoire meetin’ Margot was ta get residual payments.” Roderick’s right eyebrow rose. “Ya know, from Tiny Toons. Not to mention I’ll be woikin’ again so…”

The brown rat contemplated a moment, then with enthusiasm leaned forward and said, “Will you be able to REALLY standout as a perfectoid?! Be able to boast in the sheerest of snobbery? Look down upon those who thought they were better than you and laugh?! To prank and pulverize those Acme-Loo Losers when NECESSARY?!” Roderick had climbed up on the table and across, now directly in Farris’s face, awaiting an answer with gritted teeth.

“I, uh, guess so. But honestly, I’ve come moire-so for da educational benefits…”

Roderick relaxed, standing up on the table then hopping down to a vertical position on the ground. “Understandable and commendable.” He said. “I’ll give you the loan. I’m sure you haven’t registered yet?” Farris shook his head side to side. “Well, after you get everything set up I’ll do my part. Come, I’ll get one of my lackeys to take you to the office.”

“Ah, well, that’s, that’s all right. I’ll do it anotha time. I really need ta get into da city, and get ah motel room.” With that just said, a realization kicked in. he said lowly, “Too bad I just realized I have no way to get dere…”

Roderick heard this, and did something most Acme students were never have imagined seeing him doing: giving! He flipped through a few dollars, separated, stuck the majority back into his pocket with one hand and put the money on the table with the other. “There, three-hundred should cover it. I’ll take it outta ya loan.” He said assuring him.

“Whoa, wow, thanks!”

“No problem. You’ll be paying me back. Cuz either way things go, Farris,” He said directly at him, “you WILL be paying me back.” With that and no signalizing of goodbye, Roderick took his leave. Farris sat for a moment with the money between his feathered fingers, mulling over the conversation.

[You would think Roddy was the head of some dad-gum Mafioso-type racket with the way he’s talkin.’ Heh, I guess some guys have that presence to’em.]

************************************************************************

Farris, now in a taxicab, was having stirring thoughts floating into his head. It was an urge that he knew he had to act on, at least one more time.

“Uh, driver…” He said slowly, “I had a change’ja mind. Drop me off at Acme Looniversity.”

************************************************************************

And there it was: The old Looniversity, in its many differently shaped and in some cases newer buildings, Bugs and Daffy’s illustrious statues, and the colossal clock tower always standing out most of all. Farris tipped the driver and got out the taxi. Being here should be something he could relish in, but, other feelings were not allowing it. Farris began to make his walk up the stairs. There were a few unrecognizable students running past him, most likely of a younger generation. Up top, he sighted two toonsters that were impossible to forget: Mary Melody and Hamton J. Pig. With reluctance automatically initiating to run throughout him, Farris stopped his pacing. It was too late; they’d spotted him, which was generally not hard since no one else occupied the stairways but the three of them at that moment. Seeing that recognition was kicking in by their facial expressions, and the fact that he’d been the one long-gone for such an extensive time, he knew it was only appropriate to acknowledge them first.

“Heya guys!” Waving continuing to step up. “Long times-no sees.”

Hamton, wearing a white baseball cap forward, light blue T-shirt and light blue shorts said, “Heeey, er, um…” Hamton stammered, reaching in his mind for the rooster’s name.

“Fowlmouth!” Mary said assuredly and cheerfully, almost a gallant assistance to her piggy friend’s vocal faltering. She wore a pink headband and T-shirt, grey shorts and stylish black and pink Nikes high-tops.

“Ooh! Right! Now I know! You’re the one with the swearing problem.” Hamton said.

Anticipating he’d have unsettled feelings return, Farris managed to only dart his eyes away, instead slipping up in speech. “Uh, no, not really, anymoire.”

“Oh yeah! Buster cured him of that remember Hammy?” Her bright black eyes shooting over to him. “It was on Tiny Toons and everythang!

“Yeah!” Hamton said now seeming totally aware. “Where ya been? It’s been, man oh man, years hasn’t it Mary?”

“I personally don’t remember seeing the chicky in our senior year of high school. Where ya been at?” She finished by doubling the question Hamton started. “And man, you’ve got to be hot in that sweater Most Def! It’s August!”

Fowlmouth definitely didn’t want this to turn into some mini reunion. He knew he needed to move it along. Understanding the sweater sentiment, he rolled up both red sleeves, but truly didn’t feel that hot.

“We can discuss dat lata. Uh, do yous guys happen ta know the location of my ol’ mentor, Mr. Loghorn?

Ummm… I think… I was just there- Oh! His office number is 217, further to the back hall of um, which hall was that? Nevermind- it’s right by where his old class use’ta be. I believe we were in it together.”

[I wondas if the rest of da gang is in dere… god, hope not. Just running into dese two have been, awkward]

Trying to sound more lighthearted, Fowlmouth said, “Hey, anybody else from da old days in dere? Probably getting a crash course ON a crash course! Eh, heh.”

“Actually Fowler, most of our gang- meaning from the show- don’t take afternoon or night classes.

“Yeah, with guys like Plucky going insane just to get pass three’o’clock in high school, there’s no WAY they’re gonna have anything after twelve, heh ha, ha…” Hamton added with silliness.

This is exactly what he wanted to hear. “Um, yeah, I guess dat’s true- well I’ll see you guys lata.” FM proceeded pass them to the entrance doors.

************************************************************************

Fowlmouth walked along, continuing to spot toons he’d never seen before, and they apparently never seeing him. He temporally rememorized the room number Hamton gave him, but in actuality, he was guided by his original familiarity with the school, even though that in itself seemed not to be so translucent a memorable spectacle. He turned a corner to the aforementioned hallway. It was evident to him this was the right way; flashes of memory catapulted back to his mind as he then saw Elmer Fudd teaching in one of the same classrooms just like three years ago. Fowlmouth finally arrived at the office door. He had grown some inches over the years, but still retained just the right amount of shortness to not be able to see right into the medium size door-window. He, wanting to seem clever, knocked with the first line introduction notes of the old Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons.

Expecting his mentor Foghorn when the door opened, Fowlmouth said, “Heya ol’ Mentooor- or- or?”

FM stood in a stunned state. This was due to college aged chicken that was standing in front of him. Her white feathers were dashed with small black stripes all over. She wore a white T-shirt with black shorts. Her small cockscombs was red and black, and she had a sparkle in her grey eyes. Unable to control it, hearts started to form in Fowlmouth’s pupils. “Can I help you?” She wondered.

Her words had luckily gotten through and helped snap Fowlmouth out of his love-sick daze, shaking his eyes back to the usual, thanking everything sanctified and holy that he’d not commence to drooling.

“I waz, waz looking fer-”

“Who is- I say who it is Charlotte?” Came a boisterous voice.

“Foghorn!” Fowlmouth said happily. The towering rooster walked over, Charlotte stepping aside as he completely came into view and looked down at his visitor. “Ya gotta know me Foggy, I’m ya number one student from Tiny Toons.” He opened up earnestly.

“Well I’ll be! Hah, ha! Of COURSE I know you Farris! But I am plum flabbergasted at’cha sudden appearin’ boy! Where on- I say where on earth ya been?” He finished with a smile and a hand on Farris’s shoulder.

A bright elation was growing in Farris at that moment. Besides his mother, he’d forgotten that out of all that known him in Acme Acres, Foghorn was the only other person who actually called him- or more so actually even KNEW it to call him- Farris. He tries not to get to joyous, not just at his actual name being said- that’s just silly. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from his mentor.

“I uh, I transfared.” Farris said.

“Why in Sam-hill you go do somthin’ like that Farris? First’o’all, come on in here.” Foghorn said invitingly, waving him inward. Foghorn indicated that he take a seat, feeling like Charlotte would do the same anyway. “Before we get ta anything else- Farris, this is Charlotte. Charlotte, Farris.”

Charlotte smiled at him upon the finished introduction. “Nice to meet you Farris.”

“Wo-no my lovely chicky, trust me da pleasure is all mine.” He said shaking her smooth, velvety feathered hand, unable to resist gazing at her. Charlotte smirked lightly.

“This ain’t ah starin’ contest son.” At the insinuation, Farris rapidly shook his head and turned completely to Foghorn’s desk and him. “Now I wanna know what brings ya back but more-so I wanna know what made’ja leave in the first dog-gone place?

“Uh, well, that’s hard ta describe, sir…” His elation started to withdraw, the question one he’d not like to get into.

“Now I say listen here kid: Am I not your mentor?” He asked straight-forwardly.

“Yeah, you are.”

“So why didn’t you come and talk to me about what was wrong?”

“I-I-I…” Extreme embarrassment was building up in him, he actually feeling sweat on his head forming. This was only because at that moment Charlotte’s light grey eyes were staring dead at him, also awaiting the response. He said quickly to break the tension, “...I don’t dad-gum know- but I CAN tell’ya why I’m back. I need’ja help on issues I don’t quite undastand.” He finished.

Foghorn scratched under his beak. “Hmm. Like what?”

“Residual payments. I wanna get mine from Tiny Toon’s syndication. I mean,” He went on, “Don’t YOU still get a percentage of some soirt when your stuff comes on T.V?”

“Wull, yes.” He responded earnestly. “But Farris, I’m ME ya undastand? What I mean is- I say what I mean is that, wull, you were only a co-star, and lesser actors and extras don’t continue to receive a paycheck in that manner.” Foghorn said, glad he finished clearly.

[That’s the same crap RICH said! Well, assumed crap]

-B-b-but… I really came to ya so you could help me get into a meetin’ with Spielberg…” He said, his extended arms lowering, tone evidently growing sadder during the sentence.

“So,” Foghorn started, “You wanna push this issue that much huh? Can’t say I blame ya. I think ya deserve it.”

“Really?” Farris said looking up with hope at his predecessor.

“Tell ya what- I’ll go wit’cha.”

“You will Foggy?!”

“With me there it’ll be piece a cake- heck, I’ll even vouch for ya. I’ll call’em personally, set an appointment up. How about Saturday afternoon there kid?”

“Sounds great! But uh, I kinda don’t have residence right now, so ya can’t call-

“-I don’t need to call you boy, you just come here around three tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay!” He said, elated again.

“Uh, will there be anything else there darlin’?” Foghorn eyes cutting over to Charlotte.

“Um, no. I guess that was it. Do you need anything else from the teach, Farris? She asked him.

Surprised she even asked him, he said, “Ah, no actually.” The rooster shook his head lightly and looked back at the post-teenage hen.

“Well, I guess we can walk out together then.” Charlotte proposed with a smile.

“Heh,” Farris chuckled and smiled, “I guess we can.” Farris stood up from his chair, as did Charlotte. “See’ya tomorrows Mr. Leghorn.” He said, Charlotte just waving to capitalize on it.

“A fine kid he is, a bit slacking in confidence- lacking that is. Although, Charlotte could have a dog-gone positive effect on’em.” He said with hope.

As they walked back down the path Farris had came, Charlotte restarted conversation by saying, “Foghorn seems to know you real well, and you’re very familiar to me to. When and where’d you go too?”

“Ah, I transfared to a s’cool in Jersey about three years ago. Have you always been in Acme A’cas? Nah, I know da dad-gum an-sa, becuz if ya were, how could I have missed that pretty face all dis time?” Farris finished with flagrant flattery.

“Aww, you’re a sweetheart.” She smiled, her puffy cheeks expanding. “No, I grew up not to far though: Fresno. If you remember, Acme Acres was just an extension of Bakersfield ‘til it turned into its own full-fledge city.

“Yeah I know. Acme A’cas, California. Really catchy.”

“I’m also spent many of me years and have roots to I-er’land, don’t’cha know laddy.” She said in full Irish accent. Back in her normal feminine tone, she said, “I still feel like I’m an all American hen though. Hey, where ya going anyways after this?” she looking back to him. Farris was engulfed in floating hearts and his almost insane infatuation was fully noticed until he refocused on what she had said, causing the hearts to quickly disappear. “If nothing else is going on with ya, Maybe you can come and eat with me and a few of my friends. Everything’s already paid for.”

“Oh, that’s sounds great! Sure, I’ll join in!” He said excitedly.

“Well hold on now, it’s Weenie Burgers, is that cool?”

“Weenie Burg- of coiurse! I had’et had it in years! Perfect.

“Wow, I couldn’t imagine not having it for years now that I got tastes for it.” Charlotte said.

“Eh, eh, heh,” Farris chuckled, “Then for my sake, let’s not waste anymoire time!

[This is great! Looks like a found a new dad-gum reason to actually HANG around Acme Loo. (Eyes glancing over her) and well-sized reason at that!]

************************************************************************

From what Farris remembered before he left, the closest Weenie Burgers wasn’t that far to get to. On foot, one could come from the school, have a romp through the forest and get to the city and its plazas in twenty-five minutes. Now that everyone’s of age and able to drive, this ride would probably only take seven to ten minutes- that being if it is the closest and the same building.

************************************************************************

Charlotte pulled her white 92 Acura Legend into one of parking slots closest to the establishment and stopped. There it was- same Weenie Burger logo, same Weenie Burger building. The crisp scent of the grilled weenies was strong in the air as the male and female chickens opened their doors to inhale it. Showing how hungry he really was, Farris mouth started watering, but he pulled himself together before he walked up with Charlotte. He felt that creating puddles of drool on the ground was not gentlemanly or more-so roosterly behavior- at least not in front of her. As Charlotte opened to enter first, Farris admired her multi-colored tail feathers, a black and white blend extending out of her shorts. Why was it so attractive? He just figured he hadn't seen many breeds like her in his life... then again, she simply was attractive- what other explanation was needed? Good genes? Once inside, the friends of Charlotte see her entering from a distance and wave, she returning it to them. Farris stepped forward to see them and stopped dead in his already slow-stepping tracks. Farris couldn’t believe it. The “friends” Charlotte referred to were Fifi, Hamton, and Buster. Hamton now solely waved them over to the cushion seated window seat.

Buster eyes squinted. “Wait-ah-min… it can’t be… can it?”

It was once again, too late. Farris decided not to waste time lagging and keep up with Charlotte’s pace as they walked over, just to get this over with. The entirety of Buster face widened. Slapping his hands to both sides of his face like Macaulay Culkin from Home Alone, he yelled, “Ahhhhhhhaaa!” Buster burst forth in a blue blur, tackling the shottatttrt rooster off his feet and a distance away from where he was walking! “Is it really you Fowlmouth?! IS IT?” He questioned the pinned down fowl, he face-to-face, eye-to-eye with him.

“Fowlmouth?” Charlotte wondered.

“This is un-freakin-believable!! You’re back! You’re really back!” Buster yelled with sheer exhilaration, getting himself and Fowlmouth vertical again. Farris thought that he had concluded enduring such a welcome, but suddenly he found himself off the store floor, being bounced in the air! It was Buster again, his back to the floor, flopping the light-weight rooster up and down in the air with both his feet like a soccer ball!

“Hey! Whoa! Ahah! Gaha! Cool it would’ja! What am I? A basketball toss up?” Fowlmouth expressed. With one final push into the air, Farris came down but was caught in Buster’s arms for a safe landing. Immediately afterwards, Fowlmouth found himself in a headlock! And getting noogies no less!

“Dad-gummit Busta!” He squawked, Buster letting go, but FM still feeling it was necessary to sway his hands to get him away.

“Fowler, how can ya blame me? It’s been sooooo LONG! Come on o’va FM, you too of course.” He lastly indicated to Charlotte. Buster was wearing a white and blue T-shirt displaying himself, in full football gear, charging forth with the rest of the team right behind him. Even though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Fowlmouth didn’t remember Buster ever wearing blue jeans, so it was kind of different as a sight. Fifi looked to be wearing something similar to Buster’s trademark red shirt, but with shorter sleeves and oval shaped holes in each of them. FM could see she hadn’t changed, still cute as ever, but hopefully not as stinky. Hamton set alone on his side, so it was obvious to Charlotte to sit by him. Farris, of course wanting to be next to her, sat right by Charlotte. With Fifi by the window on the opposite side, Buster took position in front of the chickens of opposite gender.

As he sat, Fifi said, “Vell, vell, vell, look who’s finally out of ze henhouse, no?” She said nicely. “Bonjour, Vowler.”

“Yeah, bonjoiur ta you to.” FM replied.

“Fowler is DEFINITELY the talk of this afternoon! I mean, he’s been gone for years and then BOOM! Like cannon-fire at Yosamite Sam, he’s unexpectedly in our faces.”

“Gee, sorry Buster. I seen Fowlmouth earlier at the school, after everyone else was gone.” Hamton said, feeling he was obligated to tell the bunny that.

“I should slap you with the mighty gloved hand of toony powered righteousness!” he reeling his hand back, making the pig squint, bare his arms for impact, and recoil. “Come on Hambone, I ain’t gonna hit’cha. Though, I wish ya woulda told me about this…”

“Yeah, me too,” FM said, “it woulda prob’ly save me the woirm welcome.”

“Not to mention,” Buster added importantly, “He might have not met up with Charlotte and then where’d we be? FM’less, that’s where. So, you gonna explain your disappearance or what bud? Oh, and eat up. More than enough drinks, fries and burgers for us all ta chow down on.” He finished assuredly.

“Zat’s IF a zertain rounded piggy doesn’t pack on a few eetra pounds.” She said with a flicker of her eyebrows at Hamton. He stared back with a scowl.

“Uh, thanks, I’m stoirved. And,” picking up his burger with both hands, “I transfared to anotha s’cool.” He said, not surprised he was getting tired of saying that. He dismissed the thought and took a savory bite. Charlotte simply snacked on the French fries doused in a fair amount of ketchup.

“Anotha?? What “Other” is there?!” Buster exclaimed perplexed.

Fowlmouth swallowed his food. “It’s not important now.” He assured plainly. “So, I’m wonderin’: where’s pinky?”

“Heh, last time I checked, trying to escape from his lab to rule the world, ha, ha, ha.” Buster quipped. The others snickered with him, but FM was left clueless.

“Huh?”

“The Animaniacs? Fowl, you gotta know-“

“-I’m toikin about Babs.”

“Oh, her…” He said almost grimly, his eyes shifting down and diagonal.

“She’s not speaking to him right now.” Hamton answered for him.

“Hey, hey, more like I’M not speakin’ ta her. She’s… she’s just really, buggin!”

“Fallout huh? I can relate in’na ways…” FM quoted correctly.

“Look, coming this semester at Acme Loo I’m gonna be taking French language courses. I like the culture and I decided to indulge in it, and who better to be teaching me the basics than our very own Le Fume.” He said smiling at Fifi. “Ever since then, Babs has been dang-near losin’ her mind! Even attacking me! And I ain’t talkin’ about with water-guns eitha! She thinks I’m spendin’ time with Fi becuz, well, ya know…”

“More of ze, how one would zay, intimate reesons, no?” She said to Fowlmouth. She then used her purple fingers to grip Buster’s left cheek. “Not for meztaken, vous are ah cutie, but just not fer moi, heh. If anyzeeng, zit’s fully becuz of Barbara-Ann’s deep connection weth vous.” She finished with one final tug on his furry cheek.

Quickly and lightly rubbing that side of his face, he said, “I would mention somthin’ about species, but,” cutting his eyes over to Hamton, “We know THAT isn’t always an obstacle, ha, ha, heh.” Hamton had just stuck a hand-full of fries in his mouth, and even while resembling a blow-fish, he, just as he’d done Fifi, scowled at Buster.

“I actually find Buster and Bab’s bickering at times, comical, hm, heh, heh.” Charlotte giggled.

[That laugh is pure honey…]

“Yeah, as comical as a train wreck.” Buster retorted.

“Busta, I need ta ask ya somethin, important.” His black pupils made full eye contact with Buster’s.

“Well Go For It like MC Breeze FM.” Buster said encouragingly. He noted everyone’s confused looks. “You guys neva seen Rocky V?”

“OF COURSE NOT!” The entire restaurant had, excluding Fowlmouth and Charlotte, shouted in unison, including the life-taking meat of the weenie burgers. The weenies reassumed their digestible positions.

“Well, heck, I liked it. The street fight scene was awesome. I’d have some regards about tellin’ the movie but since no one plans to SEE IT-”

“-Um, Buster,” Fifi said, “Vous zis goin’ a lettle to far.”

“Oh, sorry. Thanks petite. I’m all blue ears FM.” He said tuning back in to him.

“Well, it’s about, bacuz I thought… what I mean is, did’ja put me on when it came to Bleep or Not ta Bleep?”

“You mean, your first show? Well, uh, yeah Fowler, I saw the potential in ya bud. Maaan, all those years ago in 9th grade… I told the head guys about’cha. They immediately seen ya talents, just like I did.” He said happily.

“But, that’s, that’s not…” He blew out breath and gathered his words. “What about, Video Game Blues?” He wondered anxiously.

“Um...” Eyes up in the lights for a moment, scratching his white furry chin,” As a matta of fact, yeah. I knew you’d be perfect for the narration. Just anotha good call they have to thank the B-kid for makin.’” Buster said proudly.

While Buster was gleeful, each truth had ate away a little more of what Fowlmouth considered his spirit. It was staggering him, he barely able to not reveal it. He tried to get his mind together as he spook up again.

“I’m, I’m, sure dat, when it comes to da summa vacation shows I was already-“

“-Ummm...” he um’ed loudly, “…that, that might’ve been me to. I believe it was. “How I Spent My Vocation” movie and episodes were mostly staged, but I remember someone yelling about Shirley needing something extra, so,” He went on joyously as ever, not knowing what it was currently doing to his old friend, “I told’em I got JUST the fowl for the subplot, and it was-“

“-ME! Becuz of YOU, It wuz ME!” Fowlmouth released this in a raised voice, with fragments of anger mixed in between. Charlotte, Hamton, Buster and Fifi were heavily taken aback.

“Vowlmouth, vat zis ze matta? Why have vous been so concerned weth what Buster-”

“-Becuz FIFI...” Foulmouth’s fluxes of rage made his train of thought skip. He managed to regain it faster than perceived, now deciding to direct the answer directly to Buster. “Don’t you know what’cha done? Don’t you know what all of dis you been spoutin’ means?” Buster stared at him, even more perplexed. “It’s means dat my dad-gum career- my WHOLE dad-gum actin’ career is based on YOUR woid ALONE!” He finished roughly, eyebrows narrowed, the heat in him obviously building to another level.
Charlotte put a hand on Fowler’s right shoulder. “Farris…” She said with compassion. In full focus of the resentment towards Buster, Farris absentmindedly jerked that shoulder to remove her hand.

“Ya don’t even GET IT!” He pointed at him maddeningly. “It’s like you’ve controlled my LIFE!”

“But, but Fowler,” Hamton said, “you are known, for ah, your own reasons. Everyone knows ya, you’re ah, you’re known all across-”

“-Shut da hell up Hamton! Don’t you try ta goddamn lie to me to settle me down!” He responded aggressively. Hamton stared at him now just as speechless as everyone else.

Buster seen something horribly wicked in Fowlmouth’s eyes. Apprehensive to attempt, he knew in order for him to keep control, the words he said HAD to be the correct calming ones.

“F-fowler, calm down buddy, really. What you think is not true its-”

“-Don’t try ta goddamn TELL ME about TRUTH and dat I can’t HANDLE_IT!”

On those final words, the increasingly enraging rooster slammed both his fists down on the tray of burgers and fries in front of him! It all rapidly shot up in his face: Lettuce, ketchup, even fluid from a soda-pop- it was all over him in a gooey mix! As it all dripped down, he seemed, emotionless. Of course, one couldn’t tell anything with his face covered with food. It was all evident in a moment though, as his body started to glow bright red!

“WaaaaaaAAAAAAH SHIT!” He exploded, “HOW COME EVERYTIME MY ASS IS A GOOD POSITION IT ALL TURNS TO GODDAMN, UNBELIVEABLE BULLSHIT?! I KNOW DA GODDAMN AN-SA SO DON’T EVEN SPEAK! DON’T DA-NY IT’S CUZ YA SILLY BASTAR’DA-ASSHOLE-SONS ZA BITCHES THINK OF ME AS A GODDAMN JOOOOOKE!”

The entire restaurant was silent, with only the echoing cursing reverberating in everyone’s minds. It just wasn’t normal. It just plain wasn’t natural. Everyone seated by him was so awed, they didn’t even notice FM had hopped out the seat and headed towards the exit. Buster finally snapped out of it, and said, “Fowl- Farris!” Buster hopped out his seat and ran to the exit. He stepped outside the doors but it was too late. Farris was gone.

“Oh_my_god…” Charlotte finally released.

************************************************************************

Chapter 3: Daze into the Night

Farris had long before found a good motel to stay in, but had decided, for some reason, to keep walking. Anywhere. Everywhere. Maybe at the same time or really at no time. He didn’t really care. He walked the sidewalks, passing by toons, passing by humans, the spiraling society seeming to overwhelm him before it faded away. The march of an eternity. The sky was darkening and blurry, it only making him dizzy to stare at for long durations. He dwelled with unconscious consciousness. It was a mesmerizing melancholy. He felt like he’d stepped into a psychedelic Acme Acres Zone. Why had things gone so awry? It was obvious, he knew, he just wanted something to sidetrack him from what had happened. He had to try not to think, not to ponder what SHE was thinking of him at that very moment. A proverbial heartache. It actually made him grip his chest through his shirt momentarily. Profane illusions were coming to disrupt his once carefree personality. He couldn’t stand for it. He had to stop walking, he had to get it together; reminiscence was not the remedy. Farris clenched and unclenched his fingers, closed his eyes, and turned around. As he proceeded back to the motel, the sky had darkened completely, only keen eyes able to see traces of dark blue. Once there, he got his room information given to him on paper as well a door key. With the money Roderick gave him, he could stay the whole week, if he spent the money correctly. He went outside and walked to the specified door, it not to far from him. He abruptly stopped.

“I left my bags and suitcase back at Pafecto! Dammit!” Immediately after saying this, he clamped both hands over his beaky mouth.

[Gotta get it togetha, I just gotta. It’ll be alright. Margot will take care of ya stuff. At least I got ma CD playa…]

Finally making it to his vacant room, he unlocked the door and stepped in. Only a few seconds afterwards, the door closed behind him and Farris was face-first into the pillow of the neatly made plain white bed.

************************************************************************

On an eerie and unusually misty street corner, a tall individual dressed in a brown overcoat and fedora walked cautiously to a phone booth. He stepped in, added a few coins to the slot, and dialed the numbers. While it buzzed, he noticed a near-dead streetlight above occasionally flickered on. The sidewalks were deserted. The line was picked up on.

“Ahhh, weeell, look who finally found a spare minute ta make da call.” A disguised deeper toned voice said.

Ah’m sorry, A few things slowed me up Mr.-”

“-Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s a bozo-no-no. Zero names! Ya slippin’!

“Wull for the love of Pete’s stu, I thought that’s why this location was arranged?”

“Take cautious to the highest dagrees. In this racket, I’d advised yous to rememba dat. As far as what I’ve been advised, the docaments you have are not to be transfa’d through fax or mail, their needed da’rectly. Yous should still have the plane tickets I sent’cha last week, do you not?” the voice asked.

“I do believe I do, sir.”

“Well take da trip, tomorrow morning. Should only take ya a day or two ta get here. All location info was in da envalop. That is all fer now comrade. I’ll see’yas, but rememba, as you leave, don’t be caspicuous.” He finished.

“Got it.” The line went dead as he hung up the phone. He slid the booth door aside and, with hast, left the shady scenery.

************************************************************************

It was the first half lunchtime at Acme Acres for the high school kids. It was chatty, randomly belligerent and tooned-out, although today’s wacky level probably was a few notches down. This is what Farris figured, but he’d have to check the whack-o-meter in the hallway. He just picked up his tray: it was mystery meat Monday. Farris found himself biting his tongue with squinted eyes towards the slab of beef. He walked over and found an empty table, and sat at it.

“Junior ye’r, what a dreary, test-stressed ye’r…” He said to himself, poking at the bubbling meat with his fork. “I don’t even want dis…”

“Hey! Fowler!” A voice called out to him. He looked to see the loon of his dreams, Shirley approaching! He was actually smiling, that is until…

“Hiya FM! Said the green duck coming up from behind her. They both were wearing the Acme Loo football team blue and white leather jackets.

“Plucky…” Fowlmouth said drolly, smile disappearing.

“Like, How’s goes the times?” Shirley asked interestedly.

“They go by, steady.” He answered simply.

“Hey,” Plucky said with a slap to Fowler’s right shoulder, “Buck up bud! We came to see if ya wanted ta hang out with us.”

“Hang out?”

“Yeah, like totally Fowler. Just the three of us.”

“Uh, I don’t’ knows…” he started unsure.

“Come on,” Plucky interjected, “Me and Shirl realized that the three of us never really hung out- more-so me and you. It’ll be the funnest! Racecars, video games, Explosive action monster movies!” He expressed with his arms flailing about high in the air. “Who could want more?”

“Umm…”

“ Cooome on, you know you want to.” Shirley said smiling gently at him.

“I, guess, so. Why not?” He said. He looked back up at the two of them with shock! Both the duck and loon’s eyes were glowing red, their teeth as pointed as daggers!

“Gaaahahaa!” Farris hollered as he awoke, sitting up with suddenness. “W-wha… what da hell was DAT?” He wondered with blinking eyes. “Ahh jeez…” lying back down, “I ain’t gonna get no sleeps now.”

************************************************************************

Chapter 4: Picking Up the Pace

The day was awarded with a bright blue sky and golden sun within it, moderately heating the summer afternoon. Coming out of the Looniversity double doors was a pink rabbit wearing a white undercut-off T-shirt (Reveals her stomach) with the Animaniacs logo on it, along with blue jean shorts. (A hole in them of course for her cotton tale) She was humming the Tiny Toons theme as she walked on, but stopped suddenly as her eyes fell on a certain rooster sitting on the top of the steps.

Rubbing her chin, she said, “Ya know, I bet… hmm. I know how to find out.” The pink bunny adjusted and cleared her throat and walked over to him. In a skilled imitation of Foghorn Leghorn’s voice, she said, “Hey there boy! Why so- I say why so plum glum?”

Upon hearing this voice, Farris eyes widen with surprise and joy, spinning around! It was Babs Bunny!

“Ha, ha! Got’cha! It’s me! How ya been?!” the excitement quickly dropped off Farris’s face.

Standing, he yelled, “Dammit! Why’ja do DAT!” After the sentence, Farris realized his arm was extended and fingers were latched on to the caller of Babs’s shirt.

Slapping his hand away, she yelled back, “Hey! What’s the big idea?! I was just kiddin’ ya! You don’t have’ta go all Pulp Fiction on me!”

“Ah, I’m, I’m sorry, real soiry Babs, its just… it’s just that I came here to talk to Foggy and they told me inside, he had ta go away on a business trip.” He said continuing in a sadden tone. “Now, I don’t have anybody to dad-gum get me to WB Studios so I can-

“-WB studios? What ah ca-winky-dink, that’s where I’M about to go.” The pink bunny stated with surprise he said the same place.

“Yous going? B-but, that’s Burbank, how are ya gonna-”

“-I do know how to drive Fowler...” She stated as if it was obvious.

He really wanted to ask, but thought It’d be so absolutely stupid to, after the out-lash he just initiated.

Seeing it in his eyes, Babs said, “It’s okay, you can come. I mean one little outburst isn’t gonna change things with someone I haven’t seen in ages. Come on.”

“Wow, you’re a real sport Babsy…” He said a bit more cheerful. Still, with no Looney Toon superstar, how would he gain easy access to see Spielberg?

************************************************************************

With FM in the passenger seat, Babs smoothly guided her red Mustang convertible down the highway. With the white top rolled back, the wind was coolly satisfying in the summer sun, it causing Babs ponytail-styled tied down ears and Fowler’s cockscomb to bellow.

“Man, I still can’t get o’va how incredible this puppy is…” Fowlmouth said, looking over the interior.

Imitating the voice of Keanu Reeves, Babs said, “Did you think I’d ride in anything less?” Returning to her normal vocals, she said, “So how long you been back in Acme Acres? This is of course assuming you were gone in the first place.”

“Ah yeah, I wuz gone, transfared. I’ve been back since yestaday.” He said normally, trying to stay as mellow as possible.

“Did’ja see any of the old gang yet Fowlmouth?”

“It’s Farris Babs, and yeah, I saw a good few…”

“Well if ya list’em, don’t mention a certain blue bunny to me. Hmph, talk about epic-fallout.”

“Heh, I can relate in’na ways.” He said nonchalantly. “I sense from you dere’s fraction in dat dere relationship.” He said as if he didn’t already know.

“You bet your feathered BUTT there is. I mean, here we are suppose to be in a well established relationship, devotion to the fullest, and HE’S been palin’ around with FIFI all summer long! I’d be lyin’ if I said it’s not pissin’ me off!” She said with fire engulfing her words. Farris was surprised he didn’t literally see that coming out of her mouth, knowing it was something that would have at least been staged on the show.

“Ah…” he started, trying to think of something of comfort, “…uh, undastandable and commendable.” He randomly quoted, almost not sure if it completely connected as a response with what she said.

But…” she sighed, “I’m not going into heavy detail on that. Wouldn’t wanna overwhelm ya with my rotting social life. What exactly are you planning once ya get here? Auditions too?” She asked, turning the steering wheel as she transferred into another lane, seeming calm again.

“Nah, gotta see Spielberg about performance pay. What Auditions?”

“For the guest appearances on Animaniacs.”

“Anamania-what?” He said confused? Babs looked over to him with a raised pink eyebrow.

“Ya know. Our show’s successor?” She said taking a hand off the steering wheel to point at the short T-shirt. Looking to the road, she imitating all their voices, “We’re the Warners Brothers! And the Warner Sister.” She said looking back at Farris who had an odd look on his face. “Are you serious?” Babs said stunned. Attempting another common reference that let one to be known to the show, she sings, “It’s time for Annni-maaa-niacs! And we’re Zaaany tooo the Max!” She glanced back to him.

“I, I think I know it, but, I… I’m totally out of sync wit most things in the business.

Babs’s long pause showed the oddness she found in this. “But, it comes on like everyday and… ah, never-mind. You’ll learn plenty when we get there. Hey, have ya met up with Shirley yet?”

“Ah, no.” He answered simply.

“Well, after this, I’ll give her a call and one to the rest of the guys- excluding a purple skunk and a blue rabbit- and we can hang out. Cool?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess it is.” Farris lied.

************************************************************************

Once they reached Los Angeles and then into Burbank, traffic started becoming intense. After making well-timed maneuvers with her mustang, Babs was able to advance much closer than she would have been without the swiftness. But, to her displeasure, she was still caught up in the multitude of automobiles. The WB tower was right in Farris’s sights.

“Darn. I hate to do this…” she said pushes a button on the dashboard. The spot of the radio and its buttons revolve around to a new panel of buttons. “Actually, I kinda love it, hm, hm, heh.”

“What’s dat?” Farris asked.

“A little something I decided to get added after watching a marathon of Knight Rider. All we need is some more ground to pull off on…” She said putting the car in park.

“Babs…?”

As the line of cars in front of them proceeded and actually fairly quicker than anticipated, the cars behind Babs and Fowler started honking maddened and near-deafening honks!

“Babs!” Farris yelled. Now the unintelligible yelling from the drivers had begun. Since it was only two lanes in their direction, others started trying to pass, but the hasty pink rabbit wasn’t having this.

“Yep! That’s enough. Hang tight!” Putting it back in drive, the mustang roared to life as she pushed hard on the gas-peddle, pressing one of the new sets of buttons! The Mustang bursts forward with extraordinary velocity! Babs quickly pressed another button and the car launched into the air!

“Holy- talk about catchin’ air!” Farris expressed at gaining higher altitude.

“Ha, ha, ho, ho, this is the ooonly way to fly!” Babs said, the red vehicle finally coming down from its flight.

“Dad-gummit! Chickens ain’t suppose’ta-!” Farris was cut off as they reencountered the pavement with boisterous thuds! As the mustang’s wheels rolled smoothly again, Farris set up to look about the area. “Hey! We did’ent smash in ta any otha cars!” He said to Babs amazed.

“Of course not.” She turned the mustang into a parking lot only a walking distance away from the studio. “Ya see that?” She pointed at a small screen that had come with the panel. “It calculated the distance. That’s how I knew when I needed to make the jump.”

“Whoa, remind me to thank Michael Knight when I sees’em.” Farris requested impressed.

************************************************************************

As they begun to walk across the street, the long line of toon actors couldn’t be missed extending a good ways outside the entrance. There was a new post set up, a small shack-like stand on the edge of the sidewalk. A staff member was signing them in and also checking qualifications, something that’d indicate they were “toony” enough to even attempt the auditions. It was adjacent from Ralph the Guard’s post position in the center of lanes for entering and exiting cars of the studio. Babs and Farris went to the back of the line, a brown black tailed dog with black ears wearing a sleeveless red vest and black shorts in front of them.

“Hey mister, you think this is gonna take long?” Babs asked tapping the dog on the back. He turned to her.

Waving his hand expressing it, he said, “Naaah, no ways. It’s movin’ fast.” He said in an assuring manner. It was at that point both Babs and Farris recognized who he was. Seeing their reaction, before they could even speak again, he said, “Heh, the name’s Charlie, Charlie Dog. Not to be confused with Barkin, heh.” The brown dog wisecracked amusingly in reference to the nearly identically named dog of the heavens.

“Yeah! You’re like a Looney Toon legend! Kinda, a short-lived legend but nonetheless-”

“-You wanna appear on dis show? As famous as YOU are?” Fowler wondered.

“Famous? Ha ha, ooh boy-e, more like IN-famous. Like the pink bunny said, I was short-lived, but made an impact, and what betta way ta get your face back in the pub than WB’s currently hottest show. I knows yous guys are Tiny Toonsters, and see? You’re known. But still heres, right?”

Under his breath Farris said, “Well, ONE of us is known...”

“Guess you’re right. All I can say is: what’s a Babs Bunny without an audience to view her?”

“Ya know, the audition are not why I’m here, I need’ta see Spielberg.” Farris stated.

“Oh Ol’ Stevie? That’s a no-sweata. I spoke ta him about twenty minutes ago.” Charlie assured.

“Do ya know where he is exactly Choirlie?”

************************************************************************

Inside a three story office building, the boards of directors were entering the conference room. The CEO, Thaddeus Plotz, was already seated at the tip of extensive dark wood table with numerous chairs being filled. Plotz stared at the doorway, waiting for one extra participant in today’s meeting. After a moment, that person walked in. A man with glasses, a thick brown bread and mustache in addition to mid-short but lush brown hair stepped into the room. He wore an Animaniacs emblemized cap forward, a button blue shirt with Hawaiian palm trees all over, blue jeans and regular white sneakers.

“Ahh Steve,” Thaddeus started happily, “We’re happy to be graced with the presence of one of our favorite producers. Shoo Milton!” He commanded, waving his backwards hand at the chief information officer, even though the seat next to Plotz was where he’d normally sit. He moved out of the way and to another open seat.

“How’s it goin’ TP?” Steven said as he sat.

************************************************************************

“…and I mean,” Charlie continued, “I’d take ya there, but I can’t get outta line. I got’cha covered afta my audition though kiddo.”

“I can’t wait dat long!” Farris exclaimed. “He might be gone by then. I have to make dis count right now. Hmm…” Farris then stepped out of line.

“Hey,” Babs said, “Where are ya…?” Her question was answered when she seen Fowler hop on top of a medium extended limo’s truck slowing up to turn into Studio.

“He’s one bold kid there, pinky. But he might be havin’ a problem with Ralph, cuz he ain’t got those Warner Brothers as a distraction today.” Charlie let out honestly.

“Hmm…” Babs hummed, watching the car take the turn and driver stop at the post for checking-in. After a moment, the limo proceeded. As it passed Ralph’s window, he barely caught the sight of a rooster on the back of the car lightly waving at him!

“H-hey!” He yelled! “Handle da cars Smith!” He said to the much skinnier security guard that was in the post-box with him. The chucky-bellied guard bursts out the door! Farris seen this as he had to hop down off the parking limo.

“Uh-oh! Dere’s only one dad-gum song to play at a moment like dis!” He said as he quickly flipped on his headphones, stuck his hand in his pocket and pressed play on his CD player. A Flock of Seagulls song, “I Ran” rhythmic streams began reverberating! The rooster broke!

“Aah, H-hey!” He yelled into a walky-talky. “Toon intruder! A uha, uh, white chicken! Uh, er-um, red shirt and shoes! And duuh, I’m in pursuit!” He finally finished.

Given the auditions, the lot was laid over in festivities, many humans actors and participates of the Animaniacs show out and about. Of course, they didn’t know what was coming…

“Hey! Cool it! I just need ta see Spielberg!” Farris yelled as the extra security started to close in on him.

The young rooster started making energetic evasive moves! When guards attempted to tackle, grab, block his path, fish-net, trip up, knock with a nightstick or directly collide with him, Farris was jumping on top of heads, off backs, through legs and over shoulders to avoid capture! Leaving several security officers in a pile with Ralph still in pursuit, Farris was about to collide with Minerva Mink, who only realized that he was right in front of her at the last second!

“Comin’ through hot-stuff!” He cracked as he, with similarity to a limbo dancer, leant back and slid on both knees through Minerva’s legs and red dress! “Don’t worry,” Farris assured with his head slightly turned back as he kept running, “I kept ma eyes closed!”

Minerva cheeks grew red from an embarrassing feeling. She looked after him and people pursuing Farris with clenched fists. She dashed over to some boxes in a corner, pulled a large mullet out, and joined the chase! Farris now hopped on a very long refreshment table that was made for all the guests. In result to his speed, he started sliding all the way down the table, the food and drinks all flipping and launching right into the people closest to it! This line of splattered celabs, animaniacs supporting cast members and WB toonsters included Ms. Flamiel, Mel Gibson, the Platypus Brothers, Spike and Chester, Sarah Michelle Gallar, Francis Pumphandle, Slappy and Skippy Squirrel, the Mime, Jim Carrey and Otto Scratchansniff who lastly has the punch-bowl liquids fly over him! He’s left with the large glass bowl sitting on and hanging over his bald head.

“Oh poo…” Otto said, not thinking anything else would suffice with something so sudden. The majority of these aforementioned people start pursuing Fowler as well, he himself having front-flipped high off the table! He’d luckily come down on a small trampoline carried by studio assistants, rebounding high into the air! Wanting to keep his altitude, he latched on to a black cord which extended from a building behind him. Given it was slanted, Farris begins to slide down it!

“Whoo! Pitfall Harry’s got nothin’ on dis roosta!” As the cord came close enough to the ground, Farris let go and rolled off of it. When he stood, he realized that he was right in front of the building that Charlie had specified Spielberg of being in! “Yes! Made it!” A quick glance backwards showed dust clouds picking up from the stampede of pursuers that continue to amass to take him down! “Time ta go!” He said as the lower half of his body stretches forward for progression as his upper body finally followed.

As he quickly came through the entrance doors, the lady at the sign-in desk yells, “Hey! You can’t go…?!” Farris was already at the section of the elevators, barely slipping into some of the closing doors.

************************************************************************

“…And um,” Steven continued, “I think what I’m trying to picture here can be something on the side of Animaniacs.”

“Well,” Thaddeus started, “I’m sure you know about that “Freaka” project thing, plus Tom’s planned spin-offs of-”

“-Oh I know, I know that but… I don’t know. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch; the idea of it is just buried deep in my head. I know that if I can find the right toon, the right personality, I’ll be able to create what I’m trying to vision.”

“Uuh… personally, I think you’re just reaching for something that isn’t there, at least not yet.” Thaddeus concluded.

************************************************************************

Farris stepped out the elevator calmly to not have the other two people walking out get suspicious of him. As they came into view, Farris sees that the enraged mob had taken the stairs and somehow was only a few feet down that hallway! Without even squawking a single “Whoa!” Farris was off into the other direction. The music continued to mount, the proceeding chorus describing exactly what he was doing! As a slow-motion ensued, He closed his eyes, the rooster afraid that he might be overtaken before he made it to the doors! And then, on the inside, a loud “BOOM” is heard as the conference room double doors swing open!

“STEVEN SPIELBERG! Dere isn’t a moire crucial moment dat I need a minute of ya goddamn time!!”

Spielberg stood up abruptly and yelled, “That’s him! Fowlmouth! You’re the personality I need!”

“I- I am?” the mob angrily chasing him collapse on top of Farris like football players on a fumble!

From such, a rumbling was created, and while everyone else on the board is quiet, Plotz says, “That’s gonna leave more than a mark.”

[…I ran all night and daaay… I couldn’t get away.]

TO BE CONTINUED

************************************************************************

For Farris “Fowlmouth” Fowler
“Here’s lookin’ at you kid…”

************************************************************************

Fowlmouth and all Tiny Toon Adventures, Animaniacs and Looney Tune characters
are © by Warner Bros./Amblin Entertainment.
All live people/actors mentioned are used for realism to the story and a comic relief
effect, not to defame or demoralize anyone. They are all great entertainers
and I always hope the best for them.
The storyline itself, the characters of Chris Cluckster and Charlotte the hen,
Are created and © by Brandon Raston.
All other references, such as movies and video games are © by their
respective owners.
The Part I title is a parody on Maya Angelou’s autobiography
“I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” also done for cartoon humor and no
disrespect to the actual book itself.

************************************************************************

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