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Chapter Text

[Captains Log, Stardate 48192.8. Doctor Crusher has arranged for her and myself to try out a new program created by an ingenious but reclusive holoprogrammer known only as Felix. She insists his latest creation will push not only the computational capabilities but even the artistic boundaries of the holodeck.]

Captain Picard hurried down the corridor brushing past an ensign, pardoning himself as he did. She glanced slightly at her Captain dressed in a long beige trench coat, old-fashioned trousers and a brown fedora. She thought of asking about his ensemble but thought better of it and carried on.

The Captain arrived, only slightly out of breath and still fastening his necktie, at the large vaulted archway of one of the ship's holodecks.

"Computer, location of Dr Crusher."

"Dr Crusher is inside Holodeck 6, program 'Roger1' already in progress. You may enter when ready." the electronic voice of the computer replied passively.

Picard was silently cursing himself for not replicating a clip-on as he struggled with his necktie and stepped through the self-opening mechanical doorway and into a spacious but plain-looking 20th-century office.

It appeared to be daylight behind the drawn Venetian blinds. The room looked lived in and in need of a good spring clean. It was flanked on all sides by file cabinets and a single lonely dresser next to an unmade, pull-out bed frame. There was a kitchenette in the far corner behind a broad desk littered with case files, newspaper clippings, framed photographs, an ashtray, cigarette stubs, an electric fan and a shot glass with a membrane of shot left in it. Every inch a private-eye's home office.

After a moment surveying the scene, Picard perked up his voice and called out "Beverly..."

Lieutenant Commander Data stepped out from the kitchenette in a smart, dark suit and sporting a fedora that complemented his pale artificial skin, with a cigarette held purposefully between two fingers.

"Ya gotta lotta noive showin' your face here, Valiant." said Data in his best Brooklyn accent.

"Data? I was expecting Doctor Crusher-"

As he was speaking, Doctor Beverly Crusher emerged from a door on the opposite side of the office, that Picard hadn't fully noticed yet, dressed in a pitch-perfect Girl-Friday outfit; Smart black blazer, skirt and heels to match, hat replete with floral accoutrements and a netted veil sitting fashionably askew. Her hair was teased in the style of the era, makeup and lipstick attentively applied. Even her stocking lines were straight. She'd had time to prepare.

"There you are, Jean Luc. We were beginning to think you'd changed your mind" she said, only slightly teasing.

"Sorry, Doctor. It's been a while since I last wore my Dixon Hill outfit. I... had a little trouble finding it." Picard offered by way of an excuse.

"Jean Luc, your costume is the same place it always is. In the third drawer of your dresser closet." she said as she scrutinised and adjusted one of her sleeves.

"I've never been much for fancy dress..." A moment passed as Beverly waited for him to finish his thought.

"...And it took me the entire way here to get this tie done right!” he admitted, his voice seared with frustration.

Doctor Crusher gave a caring sigh as she took his tie in her hands and loosened it.

"You didn't need to make the effort. Most private eyes wear their ties loose!"

Picard was beginning to feel like a cadet being fussed over on photo day.

Beverly took a step back to get a full picture of him and smiled. "Gives off an air of cool indifference, don't you think, Data?"

Data quirked his head in thought. "Should I loosen my tie also, Doctor?"

"No, no, Data. You look just right as you are!" she continued, taking Picard's arm and leading him over to the desk, "I hope you don't mind, I invited him along, Jean Luc. We needed a third person to play the part of police detective, Lieutenant Santino."

Picard sat as casually as possible in the hard-backed wooden chair behind the desk.

"Not at all, Doctor. And I suppose Lieutenant Santino is my friend on the force?". Beverly winked, touched a finger to her nose and took a seat in the client's chair opposite.

"And by contrast, you are Detective Eddie Valiant; the gruff, unkempt, private eye with a heart of gold". Data quirked his head again but said nothing.

"And you Doctor, who do you play in this scenario?" Picard probed.

"I'm your best girl, Delores, who works behind the bar by day and moonlights helping Eddie with his cases and is still hopelessly waiting for a proposal."

"I see," said Picard hurrying past that detail. "Well, that all sounds just fine but I'm afraid I have to ask, how exactly is a hard-boiled 1940s detective piece going to 'break new ground' in holoprogramming? You and I have been using programs like this since our maiden voyage, we've played these same characters. Dixon Hill?"

"The characters are certainly cut from the same cloth, however, Eddie Valiant was written a half-century later as a pastiche of the film-noir archetype"

"A detective by any other name?” Picard suggested, placing his feet on top of the desk.

"This isn't your everyday noir, Jean Luc. This program was designed by one of the most inventive holoprogrammers of our age. He relishes in creating immersive and unpredictable programs. I promise you, there's more than meets the eye to this story."

Picard grinned "I'm happy to take your word for it, Doctor. I'm sure you and Mr Data have something fiendishly ‘inventive’ in store for me".

Beverly and Data shared a knowing smile, or in Data's case, a knowing approximation of a smile.

"Computer, resume program 'Roger1'" Beverly commanded clearly.

The program snapped into life. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, light filtered through the blinds, sounds of street business could be heard from the simulated city below.

Data reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a crumpled paper envelope and tossed it casually onto the desk. With his Brooklynn accent suddenly back, he said "There's somethin' for your troubles on the Quimby case, Valiant. Don't say I never did nothin' for ya."

Picard, momentarily taken aback, gathered his thoughts and tried to assume his character. "Uh... thanks a lot Lieutenant but I doubt it was worth whatever's in that envelope."

"Now don't be like that, Valiant. It's not the first time I've thrown ya a bone when cases’ve been scarce." Data said employing uncharacteristic contractions and turns of phrase.

"Sure, you're a regular philanthropist. Can I assume this is your way of saying, you don't have any more work for me?"

"Ya don't want to look greedy with ya girl sittin' in the room, do ya, Valiant?" Data reached back into his pocket and produced a gold-tinted lighter and a packet of Camels. In one smooth motion, he placed one between his lips and lit up. After a drag, he gestured to Picard, packet still in hand. "Ya want one?"

"I've got my own" Picard said bluntly, patting a tin cigar holder on his desk. Data shrugged convincingly. He casually headed for the door.

With his back to Picard and Beverly, he volunteered suggestively "Ya know, I really shouldn't be giving you any more tips, Valiant. God knows I've stuck my neck out for ya enough times, it should have your name printed on it."

"If you've got something for me, cut to the chase, Santino. I'd like to know if my evening is free to take Delores dancing."

"Ok, ok, keep your shirt on, Eddie!" Data said hands raised in surrender, sauntering back to the desk. "Suffice to say, I shouldn't be telling you this but-"

"Hold on a moment" Picard cut in, holding his arm out for silence.

Very faintly, just on the edge of perception, a faint, high-pitched whine could be made out.

"Does either of you hear that? It sounds like... a scream. But also- yes, it's a whistle! A scream and a whistle getting closer and closer, like a missile about to-"

The wall behind Picard exploded.

His face was slammed against his desk, after which he slumped to the floor holding his head and ducked behind the side of the desk facing the wall that was still intact.

"Computer, freeze program!" he yelled.

The sound of splintering wood and debris settling stopped in an instant. For a moment everything was silent until he heard Beverly giggling. He opened his eyes. The room was brighter now, likely from the large, new, hole in the wall.

"Captain, you can come out now. We are not in any danger" reported Data in his reassuring, unshaken, voice.

Beverly chimed in "He's right, Jean Luc! This wasn't a blitz. It was only the explosive entrance of our client" sounding very amused by the situation.

Picard put his hands on the table and peered over to take a look for himself. It took his slightly concussed faculties a moment to comprehend what he was seeing.

Standing in the middle of the office, frozen in what can only be described as mid-scramble, was an animated cartoon rabbit in red-overalls.

Chapter Text

Captain Picard, still reeling from the explosion and his aching forehead, slowly and deliberately picked himself up off the floor, never taking his eyes off the frozen figure as he struggled to grasp what he was seeing.

As he moved around the desk to take a closer look, he noticed how the character appeared as if it were painted. Most of its body filled by flat areas of bright colour, the only texture was a type of fuzzily rendered shadow that helped describe the otherwise flat shapes of his body. The eyes had a shine in them but not like a real shine, artificial in some way more pronounced than simply being a hologram.

Perhaps the most difficult feature to adjust to was the thin black outline, like the stroke of a pencil, that always remained just on the edge of the characters form no matter what angle he looked at it from but always somehow remaining on the periphery of the character's body as well as the edges of forms within the body, separating the eyebrows from the eyes, the eyes from the face. Picard had never seen anything like it.

Beverly and Data were watching him patiently as he stalked around the character trying to make sense of it in his mind.

He got down on one knee to look directly at the face of the rabbit who stood roughly three feet tall. 4 if you count the ears.

He didn't look much at all like a real rabbit, save for a few key giveaways. He had one bucktooth and a big pink nose. A pair of long, floppy ears rounded at the ends currently frozen in a complex wave trailing behind the rest of the characters head. He also had a tuft of orange hair on his head, which was odd because the rest of his fur was snow white. Picard had noticed the cottontail sticking out of a sewn-on green patch at the back of his overalls. This was definitely meant to be a rabbit and yet it wasn't.

His eyes, for one thing, were like two large saucers with an extremely wrinkled brow squashed into a bizarre but recognizable panic. His eyes had pupils. Rabbits don't usually have pupils, do they? Not powder blue ones, in any case.

His mouth was open mid-scream and Picard could see a uvula in the back of his throat. Picard was realising how many questions he was having about rabbit physiology.

But it was the body where things got seriously away from your garden variety rabbit. He had long outstretched arms like a person and at the end of them, yellow gloves that appeared to fit a hand that was even more human. Except, no, that couldn't be right. Three fingers? And a thumb? This alleged rabbit would have made Darwin's head spin.

The creatures unusual body began at an implausibly thin neck with an oversized blue bowtie with a yellow polka-dot pattern knotted around it, moving down to a scrawny chest with the red straps of his baggy overalls fastened by yellow buttons, or rather, by yellow circles no doubt representative of buttons, glinting slightly. Near the bottom his body began to widen out, coming to an abrupt end at his big, flat, feet. His body type could be described as a bell-bottom leading up to a bottleneck.

After an unknown amount of time had passed examining this truly alien creature, Picard found his voice enough to ask "What on Earth am I looking at?"

"This is a Toon, sir." Data replied as if a moment hadn't passed.

"A tune?"

"No sir, a Toon. An anthropomorphic animated character."

"Animated?"

"Yes sir, animation is an arcane art form indigenous to Earth. The effect is created by an artist making multiple drawings of the same figure with slight changes in each frame, which are then presented in rapid succession to create the illusion of movement, a phenomenon only achievable through the human eye's retention of an image in the brain for 1/24th of a second. Without this fluke of evolution, you merely see this a series of images, as I do."

"You mean, when you watch an image on a screen, see every individual frame rather than a moving image?"

"I see both, sir. My eyes process information far faster than yours. The illusion is intriguing but not entirely convincing to someone with my level of heightened perception but it is admirable for the painstaking dedication it takes to create."

Beverly chimed in "Of course, artists back then didn't have 31st-century computers to help them render the characters, every 24th of a second had to be hand-painted into the scene."

"Makes you wonder about the things we've sacrificed in the name of progress," said Picard with a touch of sentimentality.

"The process dates back as early as prehistoric man who would paint sequential images of running buffalo on cave walls to imply movement. The technique was refined and commercialised beginning in the 20th century coinciding with the rise of motion pictures." Data informed them.

"Hmm, yes. I seem to remember hearing something about it in Earth history class at the Academy. When I bothered to show up that is. The lectures tended to be rather dull."

Beverly cut in "Well, the cartoon characters of Earth's past are anything but dull, Jean Luc. They were known worldwide for their larger-than-life personalities and impossible antics. They helped people forget their troubles and laugh during one of the worst economic depressions in Earths history."

"And throughout the second World War." Data noted.

"Their popularity declined in the mid 20th century with the invention of television. But not long after that, the generation who grew up with these animated characters began to feel nostalgic for the days of theatrical cartoons" said Beverly

"And so a landmark feature film entitled 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit' was created, notable for its groundbreaking interplay between live-action subjects and animated characters, as well as the marriage two of the great cinematic genres of Earths past; the noir detective story and the theatrical animated cartoon"

Picard guessed "And this program, these characters we're playing, are based on the ones from this film?"

"That is correct, Captain. Of course, the achievement here is that Felix has managed to have animated characters and real people interact, not as a composite illusion on a film screen, but in real space. The art of photo-realistically simulating reality is commonplace but to create in three dimensions a character whose appearance and movements is so stylised and removed from our own is remarkable in its own right'

"You mean, this rabbit will move and act as strangely as he looks?"

"Yes, Captain. A prime example of their unique physics is the impression Roger has left on your office wall. In reality, an object would have to be moving at sub-light speed to achieve such a perfect silhouette in something as fragile as window glass but for a cartoon character, it is a matter of course."

Picard marvelled at the perfect Roger-shaped crater cut through the blinds and the window behind it when Beverly gave him a friendly poke in the ribs. "Well?" she said expectantly.

Picard sighed, held his hands to his face and broke into a smile. "All right Beverly, you win! This is, without exception, unlike anything I have ever seen in my life".

"I did tell you, didn't I?" said Beverly, delighted her surprise had come off so beautifully.

Picard crouched again to take another look at Roger. Shaking his head in admiration, he said "I've met with scores of lifeforms from all over the galaxy, in bodies, shapes and forms of infinite variety and yet none of them are anything like this in the slightest respect! It just goes to prove, the imagination is a force of creativity equal to life itself".

Pulling himself out his reverie, he stood, straightened out his trenchcoat and asked: "Well, shall we get back to the story then?"

"How's your head, Jean Luc? Rogers entrance threw you pretty hard onto that desk," said Beverly momentarily lapsing into her bedside manner.

"I'm just fine, Doctor. The shock was worse than the impact, really. Just a bump on the head." Picard assured her, reaffixing his fedora on his head and striding over to his desk to reassume his chair. Beverly sat down in hers and added firmly "Alright but I want you to let me know if you start to feel dizzy." "Duly noted. Computer, resume program."

The Toon rabbit burst into life, moving quite unlike anything Picard had ever seen. Artificial yet highly stylised, as if his entire body was made of pliable rubber hooked up to an electric current. His arms groping desperately at the air in front of him, his flat feet skidding to a halt accompanied by an audible screech of metal-on-metal and his voice screaming in a rubbery peal. The overall effect was rather like nails on a chalkboard.

"Eddie! Eddie! I need your help, Eddie! Where are ya?" Roger swung his head back-and-forth exaggeratedly, each time he did a trail of smaller eyes momentarily followed the trajectory of his skull before quickly dissipating like bubbles in a cold drink.

Before any of them had time to react to this flurry of movement, Roger momentarily turned into a Roger-coloured stretch of taffy before disappearing under Mr Valiant's bedsheet, his ghostly shape rummaging around underneath. "This is no time for hide-and-seek, Eddie, I'm in big trouble! Ooh, you should really wash these sheets."

"Roger!" called Picard from the other side of the office. Two white ears lifted the sheets in Picard's direction. Roger's eyes bulged more than usual and his pupils became radiating red hearts. "Eddie!" Roger overtured as he leapt in one graceful bound across the room and landed mouth first on Captain Picard's lips. Picard felt helpless as the press of fuzzy lips pushed further into his, holding him by the cheeks as Roger's body remained implausibly erect at a 90-degree angle in the air. After more than a few seconds, Roger's lips released Picards with the force of a toilet plunger, followed by a deep popping sound. Roger bounced unphased onto the corner of Picard's desk who was still reeling and wiping his mouth. "Just the man I was looking for!" He announced joyously before taking a sharp corner into genuine concern "What are you doing hiding all the way over here?"

"Roger, I'm certain I've told you before to use the front door like everyone else. Who's going to pay for that window?" Picard asked sternly. "Never mind all that! Put it on my tab, we'll settle up later but first, you gotta help me, Eddie! It's terrible! it's awful! It's catastrophic!" he entreated with mounting hysteria before again slamming on the brakes into relative calm "And it's bad too."

As suddenly as he had relaxed, the rabbit broke down again. He wailed and threw himself into Picard's shoulder sobbing in a way that seemed put-on and genuine at the same time. Adorable animated tears flew from his eyes in perfect arcs, landing on Picard's trenchcoat and becoming real stains. Picard was never comfortable consoling. "There, there now, Roger". Picard had never known the exact meaning of this phrase but knew it was something to reach for in uncomfortable moments like this. "I'm sure whatever's happened, Eddie Valiant can make it right again." Roger had composed himself enough to look Picard in the eye, his still pleading and full of tears like a dam ready to burst. "Er, why don't you take a seat." Picard suggested.

His eyes not having registered Roger's movement, saw him standing on the opposite side of the desk, holding the chair Beverly Crusher was currently sitting in his arms, slowly making his way to the door, his mood instantaneously lifted. "Gee, thanks, Eddie! I was wondering when we'd get that housewarming gift!" Alarmed for his Doctor precariously held in the air like a balancing act, Picard barked "Put the chair down and sit on it!" With the hind leg of the chair sitting effortlessly on his pinky finger, Roger lowered the Doctor to the floor. Beverly jumped out of the chair the moment she was back on solid ground, for worry of what else could happen if she stayed seated any longer. "Well, why didn't you say so!" Roger said amiably, raising his posterior above the chair before plopping down into it and spinning the chair around to face Picard, fingers knitted and feet splayed apart like an obedient schoolboy.

"Now," Picard began trying to regain control of the situation "why don't you start from the beginning." "Well, alright. Mama bunny and papa bunny loved each other ve-e-e-ry much. In fact, they loved each other about 20 or 30 times before they had me." Roger rambled while counting on his six fingers. "You should see the family Christmas cards!" "Roger, the facts of the case." Picard reminded him. "Oh, yeah, sure." Roger began with as much earnestness as he could manage.

"Last night me and Jessica had our supper, played a little patty cake," Roger chuckled coyly, holding his finger to his chin and reminiscing momentarily under hooded eyelids "and then we were both in bed at 7:30 like we always are! And today I wake up and she just wasn't there! Gone, that's all! Missing! Person incognita!"

"Perhaps your wife had some errands to run," Picard suggested.

"Not possible! We always wake up at the exact same time, give each other a good morning kiss, fix our breakfasts and read the newspaper before we start the day! Those kinds of rituals are what make a marriage, Eddie"

"So, what makes you suspect she's been kidnapped other than her not being where she normally is this time of the morning?"

"Probably on account of the ransom note."

"Ransom note?"

"That's what I just said! And it says if I hope to spend the rest of my living days with Jessica, I'd better skip town today!"

"Why didn't you come to the police?" asked Data as Santino

"I can't! They say if I went to the cops, they'd bump her off! And I don't know where they're keeping her but it's probably someplace awful high. It's all here in black and white." Roger reached behind his back and from some unknown pocket of space produced a black note with white handwriting. Data snatched the note that Roger was offering Picard "OK Valiant, playtimes over. If this were just the rabbit's wife playing hooky, I'd let ya have it but a ransom note confirms we've got a kidnappin' on our hands. I'm gonna have to call this in". Data spun on his heels, straight for the door.

"Lieutenant, what day of the week is it today?" Picard asked in a hurry.

"Don't tell me your drunk on a Sunday mornin', Valiant."

"Sunday." Picard repeated to himself "And you're not here in an official capacity, are you? I mean, you didn't wear your badge to come down here and pay me under the table."

"What are you getting at?"

"What I mean is, you're off-duty! You're not here as a Lieutenant of the Los Angeles Police Department, right now you're just Howard Santino visiting an old friend on his day off."

"Supposin' that's the case..." Data's words trailed off to see how Picard would finish his sentence.

"Then you aren't required to report anything you may or may not have heard until you start your next shift, which is..." Picard said prompting Data to finish his in return.

"Tomorrow, 7 am"

"Right. By that time it will have been 24 hours, long enough to declare Mrs Rabbit a missing person and then you can do things by the book but give me until then to find her, my way." Data looked Picard up and down and reluctantly began to shake his head "Alright Valiant. Your way. Consider it one more bone I've thrown ya."

"You'll give us 24 hours?"

"24 hours." Data confirmed, "But as soon as I put on that uniform tomorrow morning I'm going to have to file a report."

Picard turned to Beverly who had made herself comfortable on the corner of his desk. "What about you Delores? Are you busy tonight?" "I'll get someone to cover for me. I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Beverly replied enthusiastically with the slightest hint of an accent. "Well then, there's no time to waste."

Picard sat down behind the desk and reached for a nearby magnifying glass and began scouring the monochrome note for clues. "Roger," he asked as he studiously inspected every inch of the note "I don't suppose you recognise the handwriting at all."

"Never seen it before in my life, Eddie. Honest!"

"Never mind, a shot in the dark" Picard murmured, mostly to himself. The note read in unremarkable block lettering: 'If you want to spend the rest of your life with Mrs Rabbit: Skip town TODAY! Squeal to the pigs and we'll bump her off for good! Don't call us, we'll call you'.

Having found nothing of particular interest on the note, he tossed it onto the desk and sat back in his seat, breathing the deep sigh of a detective with no leads. He wiped the corner of his mouth for lack of anything productive to do when Beverly perked up. "Eddie..." she began gesturing vaguely at him in the polite way someone does to let you know there's something unsavoury between your teeth or drawn on your face. Picard taking the clue, the only one he had for the moment, reached over to the far end of the desk and angled a small personal mirror towards his face.

The corners of his mouth smeared in the unmistakable dark gray of charcoal. Without bothering to wash off his Fu Manchu moustache, he ran his fingers lightly against the black of the note and then rubbed the substance together between his fingers, ashened like the corners of his mouth. Without a word of explanation necessary, he pulled open a drawer, and then another and another until he found one what he was searching for; an eraser. "Careful, Valiant, that note's evidence! We can't afford to lose any of the words"

"This isn't my first rodeo, Santino."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all about you and your brother's circus act"

"Circus?" Picard barely registered before bowing his head again to his task.

He carefully held the corners of the note with one hand and rubbed away as much of the blackness as possible, occasionally rubbing the eraser against his desk when it's pink surface became totally eclipsed by graphite. He took care to not rub too close to any of the words, leaving them untouched inside a dark halo in the middle of the page. When finally arriving at the upper left corner, Picard experienced a real thrill when something began to reveal itself under the darkness. This caused him to rub even more gently than before, so as not to risk tearing their only clue. At this stage, Roger, Delores and Santino had all gathered around to watch the excavation. It took about less than five minutes for the words and image to be fully uncovered but the tension stretched minutes into agonising hours. What now was apparently a monogram, read boldly 'Paradise Hotel, 4th and Main, Burbank, LA' bookended with a small logo in the shape of a tall spired building with palm trees stretching almost to the top.

"Al Knabrub? That's the name of the palooka that took my Jessica! I should've known! It was a nab-and-run job! Why when I get my gloves on 'em him I'll-" Roger rambled, beginning to glow red with anger. Beverly cut in to correct him "No Roger, that says Burbank, LA', the Paradise Hotel to be exact."

"Paradise Hotel? Never been there before. Burbank's clear over the other side of town!"

"Well Roger," Picard gleamed, standing to grab his coat and hat "there's a first time for everything."

Back in reality on the bridge of the Enterprise D, the night crew had settled into their various routines for what was certain to be another unremarkable watch. Commander Riker had recently taken over the 0000 to 0800 hour shift to make use of his waking restlessness which had been seeing him stay up later and later until he couldn't manage to focus during his regular 1600 to 0000 shifts.

"Why fight your own body?" That's what Doctor Crusher had told him. "As we grow, our carcadian rythyms fluctuate and change, sometimes for no aparant reason. If you can't sleep, don't. Why don't you ask Captain Picard for permission to take over the night shift? After all, commmanding solo will look good when you're applying for your own command one day..."

Riker smiled. It seemed to him everyone was always thinking about his career for him and would probably be very happy to see him leave the Enterprise. Of course, it only came from a place of encouragement. He knew one day that he would leave; a captaincy was his destiny. The writing was on the wall. But perhaps standing still was his way of defying fate. Fact was, Riker liked where he was. Working under Captain Picard was the best mentor anyone could ask for and the senior staff of the Enterprise had become like a family to him. He knew once he left, he'd never find another environment quite like it. And perhaps, in the really quiet moments when he hoped the rest of him wasn't listening, he could admit that he enjoyed not having to bear the responsibility of being the one who's decisions were final and actions held to task. For all his bravado, he was concerned whether or not he could run the circus or if he was better suited to playing second banana. Which was worse? Becoming an unremarkable captain or staying put, letting down all the friends who expected so much for him?

These are the kinds of grandiose thoughts that played in Riker's mind when he was really, truly, bored.

"Commander" the voice if Ensign Taurik intruded Snapped from his navel-gazing, Riker quickly reassumed his familiar authoratative tone.

"Yes, Ensign. What is it?"

"I'm noticing a small but noticable shipwide power fluctuation" Taurik reported with Vulcan economy. "How noticable?" Riker asked standing from the Captain's chair and striding over to the Ensigns console.

Without taking his eyes off of his screen, Taurik reported "0.002%, sir"

"Ensign, that's less than one thousandth of a percent. I know the night shift can be a little slow but I doubt we need an update every time we experience such a minor fluctuation"

"With respect, Commander, the fluctuation does not appear to be random. I have run a diagnostic and found that the drain began and has remained consistent since shortly after the beginning of our shift and the sensor logs show that under nominal circumstances, the power levels of the ship remain consistent to within a degree of 0.00001%"

"Perhaps they're making some adjustments in Engineering that could have affected the readings" Riker suggested off hand. "No such adjustments are scheduled to take place tonight, Commander" Taurik informed his superior. Riker was beginning to feel ever so slightly irritated by the Ensign's correctness.

"Riker to Engineering, are you making any adjustments to the warp core that might account for a slight power drop off?" The familiar voice of Chief Engineer Geordie La Forge replied "No sir, warp core parameters are steady. We've been catalogueing data logs and not doing a whole lot else. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, Chief that will be all. Riker out". Riker met the passive gaze of Ensign Taurik awaiting instruction. Riker sighed knowing he would have to dig further down this rabbit hole.

"Are you able to determine what exactly the power is being drained for?" Turning back to his console, Taurik's fingers began typing as he spoke "That has been difficult to determine since power is being drained in miniscule ammounts from all areas of the ship and evidentally being used on multiple decks but not all of them. I have yet to make a connection"

"Which decks are using the excess power?"

"The majority appears to be being pulled from living quarters and recreational areas, conference rooms, Ten Forward..."

"What about this room, the bridge?" After a few keystrokes Taurik confirmed "Not here, Commander but there is an identical ammount of usage in the Captain's ready room." he met Riker's gaze. Riker glanced toward the door, uncertain of what to expect or perhaps afraid to expect anything, and started towards the ready room doors.

The doors slid open with a gentle hiss. Riker insisted on making himself at ease and strode in as he had a hundred times before. He looked around and saw the familiar landmarks; the model Constellation-class ship mounted on the wall, Picard's prized third dynasty Kurlan naiskos statue, Livingston bobbing carelessly in his aquarium. Everything was as it should be, undisturbed and silent. Except, no, it wasn't.

After a moment Riker could distinctly make out a low, electronic, hum and realised where it must be coming from. He stepped into the side alcove opposite the Captain's desk to find the replicator alive and whirring as if in the process of replicating something. Riker bent forward slightly, to see if that would help. It didn't. The machine hummed consistently, light panels shining, doing everything a replicator normally does while replicating, except, and this was important, replicating.

After a few moments more inspecting the phenomenon and realising that he had no idea what to do about this problem, if it could even be called a problem, he touched his hand to his communicator badge and said "Ensign Taurik, will you please join me in the ready room. I think I may have solved the 'what' of this mystery but not the 'why'".

Picard, Data, Beverly and Roger stepped out of the office building.

A neglected bronze plaque bearing the legend 'Valiant and Valiant Private Investigators' hung askew on the faded brownstone facade leading out into the recreation of 1947 Los Angeles, everything golden and hot. The streets populated with peoples in the curious fashions of the time. Automobiles not used for half a century puttered up and down the street alongside enormous red trolley cars. Palm trees distinguished the horizon. They didn't seem to belong except to make sure nobody mistook it for any other state. Of course, what set this LA apart from the ones Picard and the others had visited before in the holodeck was the sight of animated characters casually busying themselves. The people appeared to ignore, if not accept their presence.

A cartoon bear raised his hat convivially at a woman dressed very properly. She purposefully ignored him. When the animated bear got up to wave, the woman quickly crossed the street. A car honked at her and she raised her hands apologetically as she hurried across the lanes. The bear, unphased, continued to grin and wave at the woman before his eyelids sagged and he continued sauntering down a corner.

"Roger, this might seem a strange question but... do I own an automobile?"

"Gee, it's like you've always said Eddie, who needs to drive in LA? What with all the traffic!"

"Then how shall we proceed to the Paradise Hotel?"

"That's easy, I'll hail a cab!"

"Ah, yes... public transportation. Roger, this is somewhat awkward, I haven't got my wallet on me."

"Boy Eddie, you're just full of laughs today. You know we always ride for free with Benny!"

"Benny, of course. How do we find Benny?"

"Eddie, I hope you haven't fallen off the wagon. You're awful forgetful this morning."

"I'm just a little underslept, Roger. Will you summon Benny for us?"

"I gotcha, Eddie. One Benny, coming up!" Roger leaned emphatically over the curb and with great importance, held out his arm and flicked out his thumb. Almost instantly an animated yellow cab immediately screeched to a halt directly under Roger's extended thumb.

"You called?" the car asked in a gravelly Brooklyn half-yell with a smile that more belonged on a car salesman more than a car. "Gee Benny, what took ya?" Roger asked bounding into the passenger seat. "The traffic over here was murder. What do ya want to start payin' for rides all the sudden?"

"Cool your carborator, Benny. Me and Eddie are on a case!"

"Oh great, just what I need. Last time you two putz were 'on a case' it cost me a set of brand new whitewalls!"

"Oh, that won't happen this time, Benny! Me and the gang just need a lift over the Paradise Hotel"

"You mean the ritzy joint with the cute valet girls?" Benny's comically small doors popped open and beckoned like a finger "Hop in flat-feet!"

Picard chivalrously offered his arm to help Beverly step into the grinning cab. Data squeezed in after Picard and found it difficult to close the door with all three of them inside the car's tiny carriage. Roger's cheeks were puffed and his eyes bulged as he was lightly crushed against the side of the cab.

"Roger, this ain't gonna work. Why don't you take a lap?" cried Benny. With a loud pop Roger burst from between Beverly and the hard place and landed in Picard's lap. He reclined against him with his arms behind his back. "Ah, now this if comfort. you know you've got awfully flat tighs, Eddie" Picard sighed as Data gave the door one more try. "Nothin' doin'. One of us may have to beat pavement over to the Hotel"

"Walk?" Benny barked in outrage "Walkin's for chumps. Everybody take a deep breath " They all sucked in as much as they could and the door slammed shut. It was a tight squeeze but they were all inside. "See? Cozy as a Christmas card. Buckle, up folks!"

"Wait one moment, I can't find my seat buckle" Picard added. "Figure of speech, Eddie," Benny said rolling his eyes. With that, Benny arched his metal frame in anticipation before stretching out into a thin peel and squealing down the road, well above the speed limit.

The simulated world passed in a blur. It was only for the fact that they were packed together like sardines that they didn't fly out of the carriage when Benny screeched to a violent halt. "The Paradise Hotel" Benny announced cheerfully.

Feeling worse for the trip, the group gingerly stepped out of the cab. "Yes. Err, thank you Benny." Picard offered, head still spinning. He turned to enter when Benny cut in "What no tip?" His fenders folded into impatient arms. "Oh, of course. Roger, would you mind..."

"Say no more, this ones on me" Roger reached into his overalls and pulled out a shiny, real, dime and flicked it over to Benny. Benny grabbed it and put it between his giant teeth to verify it's authenticity. "Legal tender!" He flicked the coin into his glove compartment. "Want me to keep the meter runnin'?" Picard glanced at Data, unsure.

"He wants to know if he should wait up."

"Oh, yes. This shouldn't take long"

"Alright, I'm gonna hold ya to that. You know I love playing cops and robbers with you nuts but I gotta make a livin' too!" Picard nodded, not fully understanding all of the colourful slang and walked up the stairs toward the entranceway.

It didn't look like anything he'd seen before, like four glass doors around a maypole. Another guest exited by revolving the doors around him as he passed. Picard and his crew followed his example.

The lobby of the Paradise was extremely posh. High vaulted ceilings and everything gold-trimmed. At first glance, it looked like an all-human clientele. "Beverly, why don't you and Roger make yourselves scarce. We don't want to draw any undue attention to a high-profile missing person."

"You got it Eddie!" said Roger leaping into the air with the poise of a diver and into the back of Picards trenchcoat. "Roger!" Picard cried in an outraged whisper. "What? it's just like old times! This way I can hear everything you're hearin'!" Picard looked to Beverly for help who's expression told him she was enjoying herself too much to offer any. Picard realised it would only make more of a scene to wrestle a rabbit our of his coat, sighed reluctantly and approached the front desk with Roger in tow.

They approached the marble counter where a calligraphed sign read 'Ring for assistance'. Picard rung the bell and a voice called back "down here." from behind the counter.

Picard awkwardly leaned over the high counter to see a small toon dog with a long face in a smart uniform looking up at him from behind sleepy eyes. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, you may. I'm a private investigator and was wondering if you could answer a few questions?'"Somehow without noticing, the dog had disappeared from in front of his eyes and was now standing beside him. "Of course, detective. We're a little short-staffed today but I'd be delighted to assist you" the dog said in a nasal monotone. Picard straightened himself and his clothes, tugging at his trenchcoat. "I'm investigating the kidnapping of my client's spouse. We have a lead to this hotel and were wondering if you'd seen her."

"We have a lot of guests in this hotel, it's hard to remember them all."

"Oh, you'd remember this dame. A toon. And what a toon!" Picard's trenchcoat said before being quickly shushed. The dog's expression didn't change. "I seem to recall a woman in need of my assistance earlier this morning. A real tall drink of water."

"How tall would you say?" Picard pressed. "It was such a long time ago now, it's hard to recall," the dog said with his arm outstretched and palm open. Picard got the picture and elbowed a lump in his trenchcoat. A gloved hand emerged from between two of the buttons and handed the dog a dollar bill. The concierge pocketed the bill and continued "'I'd say about 6 feet, five inches. Couldn't see her eyes behind those fancy tinted glasses."

"What about her hair?"

"Now that's the sort of detail that really taxes my mental faculties" his palm waiting, unsubtly. Picards trenchcoat handed another bill to the dog but held on momentarily when the dog took it from his hand.

"Didn't see. She had it done up in one of those fashionable headscarves the movie stars wear." Picard was figuring that she clearly didn't want to be seen. Was she being threatened or on the run herself? "Did you see which way she went?"

"May have, if you'd jog my memory."

Suddenly, a furious Roger burst out of Picard's chest and landed towering over the diminutive dog, face red with exasperation "Now listen, pipsqueak! My good lady wife is in mortal peril and you're shaking us down for tips!? You'll tell us where she went or I'll wipe that frown off your face, permanent like!" The dog ignored the cartoon spittle on his face and casually rang the bell on the desk. "Oh, Gossamer."

A large red monster who was little more than a haystack of red hair in a pair of sneakers, wearing only a tiny bellboy hat and a very angry pair of eyes glowering down at them appeared behind the concierge.

What happened next isn't entirely clear. What is, was Picard and Roger flying out the revolving door of the Paradise hotel. Benny was standing on his hind wheels casually trying to light a cigarette when he heard his passengers screaming through the air. He dropped everything and reversed wildly back forth assuring them “I gotcha! I gotcha!”

They landed hard on the sidewalk just in front of him. “Well, whaddya want? Most cabs wouldn’t even bother trying!” he barked defensively.

Beverly and Data hurried out of the hotel after them. “Is anyone hurt?” Beverly called. Picard felt around his body for any immediate pain before trying to move but aside from an ache where he hit the pavement, he felt alright. “I’ve had worse days, Delores” Picard replied in character. “Roger, you ok?”

Data cut in “Ah, don’t worry about him Valiant, he’s a toon. He’ll shake it off.” Sure enough, Roger who’s head was swaying back and forth orbited by little pink and blue stars, quickly shook his head with a rubbery sputtering sound before appearing good as new again. “Gee, nothing clears my head like a good pratfall!” Roger beamed. “It would if there was anything inside! We’ve been thrown out of our only lead with nothing to show for it!” Picard towered over the rabbit who seemed to shrink in on himself.

“That’s not true” Beverly interjected on Roger’s behalf “We know Jessica was here this morning, that’s a start.”

“We know A woman was here. If we had’ve given the concierge his pocket change he might have been able to confirm it. Now we’re back to square one!” Picard turned away in frustration, hands-on-hips. “I’m sorry, Eddie” Roger offered, sounding positively pathetic “I’ve loused up the investigation! But I couldn’t help myself! When I think of my wife, my Jessica, in peril! Well, I just can’t see straight!”

“Come on, Roger didn’t mean it,” Beverly said “and he’s right, the games still afoot. We can’t give up with Jessica missing! Is there somewhere else we could try?”

“You know I’m just a simple beat cop but there is one place I’m surprised you haven’t thunk to look yet” added Data nonchalantly bumming a cigarette from Benny. Picard and Beverly waited for him to finish lighting up and taking a drag before he finished “the scene of the crime”

“Scene of the crime?” Picard prompted. “Yeah, the rabbits home! Where his wife was last seen? And I thought you were the private dick” he smiled sarcastically. “Hey, that’s a swell idea! What do you say Eddie?” Roger exclaimed, perking up again. Picard's enthusiasm was piqued too “The rabbits home! Of course! Benny, can you take us there?”

“Well, alright but it’ll have to be your last stop. I don’t work ToonTown”

“ToonTown?” Picard asked instinctively.

“Yeah, the Somalians worth peanuts compared to the Dollar,” Benny said scooping up his passengers for another ride. “I call shotgun!” cried Roger bounding into the driver's seat. Data stepped into next to him. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t touch anything, Rog!” Benny yelled.

Picard put his hand on Beverly's shoulder to ask her “We’re going to “Toon-Town?” deliberately enunciating the absurd place name.

“It’s where all the Toon live. You’re going to love it, it’s like if Roger was an entire city” Beverly explained as a loud bang erupted from Benny. Smoke poured from his front dash, springs lolling up and down amongst frayed wires. Benny shouted something at Roger about pushing his buttons while Roger tried to apologise at his usual dizzying pace.

"Don't worry, Eddie. The Toons may be a bit explosive but they're harmless. Really" said Delores less than convincingly before stepping into the cab. Picard reluctantly followed.

The instant he closed the cab door, Benny sped them away from the Paradise hotel and toward the outskirts of town. "Hang on to your hats folks" Benny hollered "Next stop Toon Town!" The little yellow cab flew past a hand-painted sign reading 'Toon Town' in bright primaries and toward a brick overpass tunnel. Picard wasn't able to appreciate the smiling and frowning faces of a toon cat painted above the entrance like the greek comedy-tragedy masks.

Benny, Roger, Beverly, Data and Picard disappeared into the inky-black tunnel.

Chapter Text

[First Officers Log, Stardate 48192.8. The Enterprise is experiencing a malfunction of the most peculiar nature. Every one of the ship's replicators is active and drawing power from the ship. However, nothing appears to be being replicated. The malfunction is stopping the crew from their usual replicator usage. I’ve asked Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge to investigate.]

Riker paced the floor of Picard's small ready room as an engineer examined the replicator. Anxious for answers he tapped his comms badge. "Riker to LaForge, progress report."

"We're still unable to access the replicators or stop the drain on the ship's power. Whoever's doing this has locked us out completely" came Geordi's calm and steady voice through the badge.

"So, what are we doing about it?"

"Well, we may not be able to get the replicator to tell us what it's building but we've been scanning what's been coming out and working backwards."

"And?"

"I don't know what it is yet except that it's nanoscopic, invisible to the naked eye. The computer is putting together a schematic as we speak, there's so many of them it's hard to get a good look at one."

"You mean, it's making more?"

"From what we've figured, it's been making hundreds of these little guys since we lost control of the replicator."

Riker's face was now bearing the gravity of the situation. Hundreds, at this late stage, more likely thousands of tiny machines of unknown origin and intent invading the Enterprise, with their numbers increasing by the second. He masked his fears and told Geordi "Understood. Let me know as soon as you know what we're dealing with, Riker out." He sighed heavily, he hated not knowing what the next move would be. "Any luck reestablishing replicator controls?" he asked the engineer, who looked up from his work and gave an apologetic shake of the head. For lack of anything else to do immediately, Riker spoke aloud "Computer, location of Captain Picard."

"Captain Picard is in Holodeck 6."

Riker thought better of disturbing the Captains recreation just yet. 

Inside the holodeck, a serene scene was being simulated. Atop a hand-painted street sign that read 'Lovebird Lane'  which looked hand-painted nested a pair of cartoon birds embracing each other, small hearts fizzing above their heads. Happy animated couples strolled hand-in-gloved-hand up and down the adorably kept street. Even the houses appeared to lean together affectionately. This peace was shattered by the approach of a honking horn and a roaring engine. Benny the Cab raced down the quiet street leaving tarred skid-marks behind him. He jumped the curb and a horse with collar lept into the arms his sweetie (a cow in a skirt) to avoid the speeding vehicle which finally came to a screeching halt next to the curb and then very carefully performed a perfect parallel park.

“Last stop, Lovebird Lane. Everybody off!” Benny called propping open his doors. Roger leaked out onto the sidewalk like an egg. The humans could hardly stop themselves from shaking. "What is it with humans and motion sickness?" asked Benny rhetorically. Data, not one to be shaken so easily, hopped out and helped Beverly find her feet.

As Picard pulled himself from the cab seat he felt a small stabbing pain in his buttocks. He turned to find a bright red animated arrow shaped like a heart penetrating his trench coat. He whipped around to see the perps: a pair of floating cherubs, one a soft shade of pink, the other a peppermint green, holding hands and giggling, bows still in hand flying away with a trail of shimmering dust. “Let me get that, Eddie” Beverly said, remaining in character. With one unpleasant tug she removed the offending arrow and tossed it aside. She offered Picard a smile that wasn’t returned. He and Toontown were not starting off on the right foot.

Roger shook one of Benny’s fenders like a hand. “Thanks again, Benny! You’re one of the good ones!” 

“Forget it, Rog. Now you keep these 'Noids outta trouble, alright? I’ll catch you back in reality!" With that, Benny turned around in a wide U-turn and jerked to a stop at the intersection where an ugly spotted bobcat in a traffic-cop getup was blowing a whistle and holding up a 'STOP' sign. In the lane next to him was a old-fashioned red Autocar driven by a finely dressed amphibian with racing goggles on.

"Hey Toad, ya wanna race?" Benny taunted.

"You're on, taxi cab!" came the Toad's English reply.

The Bobcat beat-cop obligingly held up a red handkerchief as the two drivers impatiently revved their engines. No sooner had he dropped the kerchief, the two drag-racers sped directly over him in furious competition, leaving the cop flattened on the pavement. The kerchief gently floated down and covered his face like a funeral pall. Suddenly mourners of various species all dressed in black surrounded the body as a priest read in a dispassionate drone "We are gathered here today...". A Scotsman played 'Taps' on the bagpipes over the proceedings. Picard turned away before anything else could happen and asked: “Roger, why don’t you show us your home.”

“Right this way, Eddie!” Roger said leading the group through his white picket fenced yard up to an adorable yet exaggerated bungalow. Everything bulged like a funhouse mirror and there wasn't a straight angle to be found anywhere in its architecture, even the shingles warped over the slightly rounded gables. The house was painted in outrageous primaries that in reality would be hard to live with but in this environment seemed appropriate and cozy.

"Here, we are! Home, sweet home!" declared Roger opening the front door to his guests "Wipe your feet if you don't mind". Picard obliged before ducking inside through the short green doorway and into the rabbit's home which looked like a picture out a mid-century home and garden magazine. The size of the space also puzzled Picard, he could swear that the living room alone was more spacious inside than the exterior could possibly allow for but he had more pressing matters. He hung his hat and trenchcoat on the coatrack and stepped into the living room.

All the then-modern comforts of home greeted him. Big sofa's with throw blankets over the back, footrests next to a fireplace, cute little cubbies and crannies filled with books, reading lamps, radios and a big colourful piano Roger and Jessica no doubt sat around and sang together on sentimental evenings. Picard inspected the many photographs and knick-knacks on the wall. There were many photo's of Roger shaking hands with important-looking men in suits as well as ones with his cartoon peers in the industry. There were awards, yes, but also photo's of seaside holidays, family members, landscapes, candids of Roger at work and play. It painted a picture of a humble star who relished his domesticity as much, if not more than his public image.

That is except for the drop-dead gorgeous red-headed bombshell Roger was frequently ogling in many of the photos. Picard wasn't quite sure why Mrs Rabbit allowed such flagrant unfaithfulness to be displayed in her own home. Picard delicately took a photo off the wall to inspect it closer. In it, the mystery woman who wore a tiara and a sash which read 'Miss Tooniverse 1944' and was carrying a love-struck Roger in her arms.

The realisation broke in on Picard. All this time he'd been picturing Jessica Rabbit as well, a rabbit! Somehow he'd assumed Roger's wife would be more or less Roger in a skirt and bow. Picard had many, many questions (namely how did this statuesque woman get through the front door?) but all he managed to half-whisper to himself in utter disbelief was "this is Roger's wife?"

"Mm-hmm" Beverly confirmed taking the photo frame from Picard and placing it back on the wall. "Come on, Eddie, the marital bedroom's this way!" Roger waved to Picard as he disappeared down the corridor. Picard felt more questions rising to the forefront of his mind as he followed Data and Beverly down the hall.

Picard didn't know what to expect and yet the twin beds were still a surprise. The one nearer the door with a monogrammed J in the headboard was unmade as if someone had left in a hurry. Roger sat on his bed with a matching R, looking forlornly at the empty bed. "This is where I last laid eyes on her, Eddie. Playin' pattycake like we always do" Roger said his voice beginning to catch with emotion. He fought through tears as he pantomimed and sang by himself. He got as far as "pattycake, pattycake bakers-" before breaking down in tears and blowing his nose on his ears with loud wet honks.

Beverly sat down beside him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this" Roger said, trying to calm himself "Me and Jessica have a life here, a happy one! And if anything were to happen to my Jessica-"

Picard sensed another breakdown and reassured him "Roger, I assure you wherever your wife is we will find her. Santino, let's give this place a once-over." Data nodded and proceeded to search the room. Slippers under the bed. Love letters and makeup in the heart-shaped vanity. Identical pairs of red overalls in the closet. In the positively twee linoleum lined kitchen, no sign of a hastily eaten breakfast and the strangely proportioned car was still parked in the workshop garage.

"Well" Picard announced, vainly turning over a sofa cushion "this is a fine how-d'you-do. We've searched the only known locations of Mrs Rabbit and not uncovered so much as a stray hair."

"What do we do now, Eddie?" asked Beverly.

"There's only one thing left to do. Jessica left the house sometime before Roger woke up at 7 am, somebody must have seen her."

"That's not much to go on, Valiant" said Data laconically, idly flipping a Semolian."

"Call it a Hail Mary, it's all we've got." Picard wedged open the window blinds with his fingers and saw a cartoon sun, which was surprisingly easy to look at, with a big goofy smile on its face give a great yawn as it began to sink slowly toward the animated horizon. "And we haven't got much time to do it. Delores and I will canvas the neighbourhood. Roger, why don't you escort Santino downtown?"

"Downtown Toontown?" Roger said incredulously.

"Yes Roger, Downtoon twotonne..." Picard stumbled over his words. Everyone stifled a giggle. Picard recovered and said firmly "You must know some of your wife's favourite spots... in that area"

"Oh, sure! There's the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker... Why she's a real toon-about-town in downtown Toontown!" said Roger effortlessly. "Let's meet back here when it's dark" said Picard already on his way out the door with Beverly, hat and coat in hand. Roger confided in Data as he closed the door behind them "Boy, I never get tired of Eddies ridiculous speech impediment!"

Picard and Beverly started by knocking on every door on the street and before long they were several blocks over. Despite expecting the unexpected they were always surprised by the characters they found on the other side. A dog butler who greeted them with an elongated "Yyy-e-e-ess." An egg-headed boy raving about "I wanna Easter Egg! I wanna Easter egg!" A lonely bear in a Veronica Lake outfit. Once it was even a brick wall with a sign reading 'Unbelievable, isn't it?" Somehow Picard knocked on the door of a homemade solely of thatched straw.

"Go away!" called a high-pitched voice. They saw in the barred window a beady-eyed pig in a black shirt and navy cap.

"We're looking for a Mrs. Rabbit, have you seen her?" asked Beverly.

"Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!" the pig replied musically. "But my brother might have" he gestured next door to the slightly-more-sturdy house made of sticks.

"Excuse us, Mr Pig, have you seen Mrs. Rabbit today?" Picard called from the front door.

"Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!" sang the pig in a blue sailors suit. "Try our other brother. He sees everything!" pointing to the craftsmanlike brick house next door.

"Naw, I didn't see no rabbit today" said the black hairy wolf who answered the door "My eyes may be bigger than my stomach but I just don't think I could fit one in today". The wolf hiccupped and excused himself.

Meanwhile Downtown, Roger and Data approached a buck-toothed dogman in a workman's uniform arduously heaving a rope which was lifting a piano up to some perilous level of the apartment building behind. He stopped a moment to catch his breath and mopped his sweat-glistened brow with a polka-dotted handkerchief unaware of the rope whizzing out of his hands and piano plummeting down toward him. "Watch it, pal!" cried Data.

"Huh?" The dogman looked around and happened to notice the black shadow looming over him and then looked up and caught sight of the piano. He grabbed the rope and yanked with all his might and the piano halted mere inches from his head. Roger breathed a sigh of relief. "Say thanks, fellers! I lose more piana's that way." the dog replied in a southern drawl, heaving the rope and slowly sending the piano back up the way it came.

"We didn't mean to break your concentration Goof" said Roger to his old friend "but have you seen my Jessica at all today?"

"Hmm, well let me see now. That's a real headscratcher" said the dogman screwing up his face in thought and letting go of the rope.

"Hey, mind that rope!" cried Data.

"Huh?"

"The rope, Goofy, the rope!" screamed Roger. Again the dogman looked up, apparently in need of yet another reminder, and grabbed the hold of the rope. The piano was practically resting on the bump on his head.

"Shucks, nearly got me that time!" said the dogman chuckling, amused by his near-death experience.

"You know what, we don't want to distract you from your work" said Data.

"You sure? I got plenty of time to recollect m'thoughts!" the dogman said obligingly heaving the rope back again.

"No, no, forget about it! Thank you for your time sir" Data said tipping his cap and starting back the other way.

"Goodbye Goofy!" called Roger.

"So long, fellers!" said the dogman waving enthusiastically before being crushed by an almighty thud. Roger and Data spun on their heels to see the shattered piano on the sidewalk with the dogmans head protruding through the top, a music roll stuffed into his collar like a napkin and his teeth replaced by piano keys. His head spun as he sung dizzily "Believe me, if all those endearing uh-, endearing young, uh- gawrsh! I can never remember how that goes! Ahyuck!"

Picard and Beverly weren't having much better luck. A California ranch style home with its own pool and tennis-court appeared to belong to a grey rabbit with a twinkle in his eye, who answered the door casually in a bathrobe. "Nyeeeh, What's up, Doc?" he greeted them in a Brooklynn-whine, chewing loudly on a carrot.

"Hello sir. We're looking for a woman who's gone missing from this area and were wondering if you'd seen her." Picard began.

"Hold it" interrupted the rabbit "This woman you're after, uh she a tall drink a water?"

"Yes, about 6 and a half feet," Beverly added, goading him on.

The rabbit held the carrot to his chin in apparent thought. "Hmm, red hair?"

"Yes" Picard confirmed.

"Mysterious eyes?"

"Yes!"

"Stacked like a brick shipyard?"

"Well, I, er..."

"Goes by the name of Jessica?"

"That's her!" Beverly exclaimed.

"Nuh-uh. Nope. Ain't seen her"

The rabbit slammed the door on the stunned faces of Picard and Beverly. It flew open once more and added coyly "Ain't I a stinker?" before slamming the door again.

More unhelpful cheek came in the form of a skunk with a come-hither look his eye surrounded by a visible green cloud of stench.

"Pardon me, sir, we're looking for a red-head" Data enquired of him, unphased by the noxious odour.

"Aren't we all, Mon-Amie?" came the reply in a thick French accent before strutting away, his green cloud wafting after.

Picard and Beverly having exhausted Roger's neighbourhood has crossed over the train tracks and into a slightly-slumlike area that was completely drained of colour and all of its residents were shades of grey. "Yoo-hoo!" came a piercingly high voice from one of the tall apartment buildings. Waving a handkerchief from a balcony was a bizarre-looking woman with a bulbous head, fishhook hair and lips at the bottom of her face. "Why don't you come and see me some time, Eddie?" she cooed in her strange babyish cadence.

"Uuh, another time perhaps, ma'am. We're here on business. Have you seen a red-headed woman?" Picard shouted cupping his hands to his mouth.

"I don't mean to alarm you, Eddie but there's one right beside ya" she called back giggling to herself. "Don't be a stranger, now!" she said as she shimmied rhythmically back inside her apartment.

"Well, that's it" sighed Beverly "we've searched everywhere this side of ToonTown and nobody seems to have seen Jessica all day."

"Maybe Roger and Data have had better luck." Picard proposed unconvincingly.

"Telegram for Eddie Valiant!" announced a diminutive mailman who had instantaneously zipped up on a motorised mailcart.

"Santino and I have come up short, stop.
The butcher hadn't seen her and the baker and candlestick maker weren't home, stop.
It's getting dark so we've decided to, stop.
Most sincerely, Roger Rabbit.
T'irty-five cents collect." the mailman finished holding out his palm for his payment.

"I'm very sorry, we haven't any money on us." Picard offered.

The mailman huffed indignantly, mounting his scooter "Expect a call from the collections office, deadbeat!" he threatened before zipping away.

"It's getting dark, Jean-Luc. We'd better be getting back to Roger's place and let the real police handle this." said Beverly in resignation. No response from Picard who looked a million miles away. "Jean-Luc?"

"Beverly! I have a theory!" Picard told her excitedly "No, more than a theory, I've cracked it!"

"You have?" Beverly said in disbelief "But how-"

"No time." said Picard taking Beverly by the shoulders "We must split up and summon everyone we've spoken to this evening back to Roger's house". Beverly nodded and Picard darted back the way they'd come. She smiled to herself, the Captain's powers of deduction had seemingly prevailed. Putting her mind to her task she called out "Miss, oh miss!" to the apartment building above. "Oh my, who's there?" came the squeaky voice of the woman leaning out of the window, now with curlers in her hair.

"Eddie's cracked the case, he'd like everyone to join us Roger's house right away!"

"Eddie's cracked another one? I wouldn't miss this for the woild!"

That evening, the crescent moon hung low over Lovebird Lane, so low in fact, it was trying to get a peek in through the window.

Inside Roger's house, all of the toons they had spoken to had assembled. The big black wolf sat on a sofa with his arms around the two nervous-looking little pigs. The dogman with a bandage wrapped around his head amused himself in a rocking chair. The grey rabbit leaned nonchalantly by the fireplace, still chewing a carrot. The black-and-white woman sat on a kitchen table brought out by Beverly to accommodate the extra guests. The dozens of would-be witnesses were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in Roger's modest living room. The skunk, however, was given a wide berth. Everyone spoke in hushed tones to the tune of 'what this could all be about' and 'did you hear anything about Jessica'. Picard entered and took centre-stage, raising his hands for quiet.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming this evening and entertaining this little charade," he said authoritatively to cut through the chatter. "As I'm quite sure you're all aware, Roger's dear wife, Jessica, went missing in the early hours of this morning and hasn't been seen since. We tailed her or her kidnappers to the Paradise Hotel, though that lead proved to be... inconclusive" he said looking at the small droopy-eyed dog sitting on a stool, stoic as before. "Having spoken to you all this afternoon, there were still more questions and as many motives as you'd care to name." He continued, slowly pacing the floor. "And while none of you provided any concrete clues to her whereabouts, your collective consciences betrayed you. The very fact that nobody, not a soul, had laid eyes on Mrs Rabbit today, one of the most glamorous and recognisable stars in all of ToonTown?" It was an odd sensation, so many pie-cut, wide-eyed, cartoon stares, all transfixed on him at once but he knew he had them hooked. Time to take this thing home. "The fact is, each of you has been hiding something. There is, dare I say, a conspiracy afoot! But one that I have unravelled. Roger, your wife, is in fact, here in this house!" A collective gasp. And with that, the lights went out.

Nothing was visible through the darkness except dozens of pairs of eyeballs. The panicked shrieks of the Toons shouted over each other.

"Who turned out the lights?"

"I'm afraid of the dark!"

"Watch those hands!"

Picard's voice cut through the cacophony "WILL EVERYONE PLEASE REMAIN CALM!"

As sudden as it had started the shouting ceased and the only sound was a lone cricket. "Shhhhhhh!" hissed the Toons. "Sorry folks, nervous habit!" replied a small, chipper voice from a pair of eyes no larger than a crickets. Picard continued in the dark "Roger, somebody here has a confession to make..."

In a flash, a pale spotlight appeared cutting through the inky blackness to a pair of stage curtains. Then in a voice as deep and slow and sensual as the tide washed over the assembly with a "Happy Birthday Mr Rabbit..."

The lights came back gently and everyone who had been assembled in Roger's modest bungalow now found themselves seated at a linen-lined table in a swanky dinner club. The Toons looked back and forth in bewilderment. The curtains drew back to reveal a towering, tiered cake of ungainly size, with the words 'Happy Birthday Honey Bunny' pasted in pink-frosting on the glimmering white velvet surface. And before anyone could remark on how beautiful the cake was, that achingly sensual voice piped up again, "Happy Birthday to you..."

A woman more beautiful than the most beautiful cake, burst out of the top, her arms reaching skyward, head rolled back, lit from behind creating a perfectly statuesque silhouette. It was like witnessing the birth of Venus. The stage lights behind the madonna tilted down and out of the audiences line of sight and when they're vision had adjusted, they were all of them stunned to see the one and only Jessica Rabbit in a stunning sequined white gown standing atop Roger's birthday cake. Roger's jaw dropped, in a very literal manner. A soft swell of piano cut the tension and the spotlight widened to reveal flanking the cake on the stage was a band of crows providing musical accompaniment. No one had noticed until it started rolling toward them that the enormous cake was on an overstrained trolley, pushed by a rotund but friendly-looking Giant in a green tunic. The Crows elevated the mood with their rendition of Happy Birthday which Jessica took from the top, still as breathy as imaginable.

"Happy Birthday Mr. Rabbit..." Jessica intoned as the Giant defied the laws of physics wheeling the cake down from the stage with a single two-by-four plank acting as a ramp. The Giant followed down on the same plank which warped enormously but didn't break even under the Giants girth. He wheeled the cake over to Roger's table all as his wife sang "Happy Birthday to you..." Jessica motioned for a hand, which she received in abundance, in the shape of the Giants enormous index finger which she used for balance as she stepped with otherwordly poise down the layers of the cake, leaving only the tiniest dimples in the frosting where her heels stood. It was as if she weighed nothing at all. She was both absurd yet dead serious. Having made it to the floor safely, she beckoned him with her finger and he brought his humongous face down to her where she could plant a small kiss on his cheek for his chivalry, leaving a perfect red kissy mark. "Aaaw, Gosh!" the Giant chuckled, turning beet red before running offstage bashfully.

Jessica turned her attention to Roger, who was frozen in his seat with his eyes as big as vanity mirrors and his jaw at his feet. She belted out the final words to her song with a sudden, striking, bravado "HAPPY BIRTHDA-A-A-Y!" before putting her arms around her husband and whispering in an incredibly arousing tone "to you, Roger" before leaning in for a kiss. Jessica's lips must have carried an incredible voltage because Roger suddenly sprang, flashing back and forth, like an electric current was coursing through him. He then melted into a pile of Roger coloured goo. Everyone leaned over their tables to see if Roger had survived. Jessica unfazed, simply took a step back, as the sound of an engine revving roared to life as Roger reconstituted himself in the shape of a rocket and blasted up to the ceiling of the club before exploding in a fireworks display that made the words 'WOW!' The audience erupted in thunderous applause.

Roger plummeted back to earth and into the waiting arms of his wife who smothered him in kisses leaving him stamped with lipstick. "Honey Bunny!" she squeezed in between smooches "I hope you aren't too sore at me for my little white lie." Roger, giddy with love, cooed back "Why should I be a hot-cross bunny? You're safe and sound and all my friends are here!"

"Excuse me, Roger," Beverly interjected, unsure whether or not to interrupt the throes of passion "but don't you think it might have helped our little investigation if you'd mentioned it was your birthday?"

"Gee, I guess I plum forgot!" Roger shrugged.

"My Roger's never been good at remembering dates." Jessica intoned, lovingly squeezing her beloved husband to her bosom. "Every year I get a surprise birthday but this one takes the cake!" Roger exclaimed. Beverly unreasonably pushed further with sensible questions; "But Roger, surely you could have recognised your own wife's handwriting?"

"Ah, quit kiddin' Delores! You know I can't read!"

"But you did! Al Knabrub, LA Burbank, remember?"

"Oh, that's different; I can read upside down!" Roger offered by way of explanation before going back to locking lips. Beverly was dumbfounded. She was about to redouble her efforts trying to make sense of nonsense when Picard gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Let's let the happy couple have their moment, hm?" He suggested, grinning. Beverly sighed and stepped back against the wall where her and the Captain could speak privately. They looked on knowingly as Roger shook hands with well-wishers. "Jean-Luc, nothing about this mystery makes any sense!"

"I rather think that's the point Beverly."

"Then how did you-"

"Elementary. Once I figured out the rules that govern this Toon world, I was able to piece together that everything was for a gag, a stunt, a surprise."

"So you just guessed this is how a cartoon would end?" Picard gave a show-off shrug. "Well, I must say, I'm impressed. I didn't think you of all people would figure out this program but you've really pulled a rabbit out of a hat."

"Comin' tru!" "Do excuse us!" called a pair of magpies with mismatched accents brushing past. "Yes, well," said Picard, recollecting himself "There was also the fact of the missing waitstaff from the hotel, the baker and the candlestick maker not at home and everyone in town keeping mum. A surprise party was the obvious conclusion." Beverly gawped slightly and have Picard a friendly shove. They smiled together as they watched over the crowd gathered around Roger sitting in his wife's lap as he opened his presents.

A cherubic baby smoking a  cigar strutted up with the most masculine gait ever seen on a toddler and handed Roger a present which was small, even by a baby's standards. "Here you go, Roger," he said with a pack-a-day voice "From me and the kids!" Beverly and Picard exchanged a glance. "Well, it certainly is small..." said Roger struggling for something polite to say "But they say good things come in small packages!" Roger tore off the wrapping paper, reached inside the tiny box with his whole arm and produced... "A gold cigar case! Jeepers, Baby Herman! That's swell, except..."

"Except what? You don't like it??" The baby barked.

"No! No! There's just one tiny, little, itsy-bitsy-" Baby Hermans face was getting redder by the second "-insignificant problem; I don't smoke!"

"You don't?! Ah Hell, Roger! Now ya tell me!"

"Gee, I'm sorry. What a shame, and it was such a thoughtful gift too!" Roger offered, his voice full of sincere regret. Baby Herman leaned against Jessica's chair and added suggestively like a devil on his shoulder "It'd be an even bigger shame to let it go to waste..."

"Hey, yeah! That's it! I've got it!" said Roger, struck by inspiration "Why don't you keep it, Baby Herman! It's just perfect for you!"

"Thought you'd never ask" Baby Herman swiped the case and sauntered away on his stubby legs. Roger beamed "It suits you! What with your name engraved on it and all." Baby Herman called over his shoulder, lighting up a fresh stogie "Yeah, yeah. Just don't think your off the hook gettin' me a present for my birthday. It's the 17th!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, pal!"

"You have something for me, Geordi?" Riker spoke not breaking his stride into Engineering with formalities. Geordi was leaning over a control panel watching the monitor pour through schematics. "Yes sir, we're just about ready with-"

"Chief!" An engineer jogged up to Geordi and handed him a PADD. "It's done, sir! The computer has finished the schematic."

"Good work, Lieutenant." Riker looked over Geordi's shoulder as he manipulated the completed schematic. Zooming in on certain parts, tapping to open text windows and even exploding the object so the inner working components were visible. The machine was a small trapezoid with rounded corners. The top, smooth metal except for four small vents or panels in one corner. The underside was a mess of technological greeble. Riker knew enough to recognise what appeared to be some sort of propulsion system. Geordi elucidated "This is a seriously advanced piece of hardware but at a glance it appears to be some kind of nanoscopic probe."

"Like the Borg?" Riker asked urgently. "In theory, yes, but this the Borg's tech is all strictly utilitarian," Geordi replied, still studying the mysterious machine. "This has an elegance to it, all the nasty stuff is underneath. Whoever designed this has a sense of style"

"I'll congratulate them on their taste when they're under arrest for interfering with the safety and operations of a Starship," said Riker dryly. "We know what it looks like, do we know what it does?"

"It's got a propulsion system, basic navigation and..." Geordi trailed off, furrowing his brow at something he wasn't quite sure of. Riker had no time to waste. "And?..."

"And it looks like this thing has a holographic emitter inside it."

"Holographic? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. It's all there; Lenses, projectors, a magnetic field generator. What I don't understand is why? We have the holodeck, why flood the ship with holoemitters?"

"I think somebody wants us to play a game, Mr LaForge" Riker said with foreboding in his voice. He spoke up with pronounced articulation "Computer, how many holoemitters are there aboard the Enterprise?" The computer chirped in computation before responding "Over 150,000 holoemitters detected and rising."

"The damn replicator's flooding the ship with them" Riker relayed to Geordi, prompting suggestions. "I'll get to work figuring out how to neutralise the emitters. We're still working to regain control of the replicators." Geordi responded as he slipped back into engineering to update his crew. Riker resigned himself to being in over his head. He touched his hand to his badge which chirped as a go-ahead. "Riker to Captain Picard".

Picard was standing at the cartoon bar being served a drink by a Penguin. "Go ahead, Number One"

"We've got a situation out here, sir. The ship is being overrun by thousands of nanoprobes. Recommend we go to yellow alert"

"I'm on my way, Picard out" Picard touched his badge and hurried over to Beverly and Data who were now gathered watching Roger, still unwrapping gifts. Picard tugged at Beverly's coat and lowered his voice "Beverly, I think it's time we made our exit."

"You're leaving!?" Roger cried at the top of his voice, one ear erect like a periscope. Picard hadn't counted on rabbit's excellent hearing. Roger hopped off Jessica's knee and pleaded "You can't go now! We haven't even cut the cake, Eddie!" Roger's ears drooped and his eyes glistened. "I'm sorry, Roger. it's an emergency. We'll see you some other time perhaps" said Picard flatly, dropping all pretence of Eddie Valiant, P.I.

He turned to leave but Roger grabbed him by his trenchcoat and started dragging him back. "P-p-please, Eddie!" insister Roger flapping his lips  "I've only got one more gift to open! Say you'll stay!" Jessica stood up and added breathily "He's right Mr Valiant, stay for the last present, won't you?" She held a present wrapped in bright yellow paper with big black X marks on it. Roger immediately let go of Picard and zipped over to the present like an excited child. "Oh boy! Who's it from? Who's it from?" Jessica knelt and handed Roger the box. Roger strained to read the card. "Fuh... furr.... foorAHHH..." Jessica patiently turned the card upside down. "Oh, that's better! 'From Felix'. Aw, thanks, Felix! You shouldn't have!" A black and white cat with saucer eyes had a mouth full of cake, which he abruptly swallowed when the attention of the room fell on him. "Huh? That's not mine. I got ya the Encyclopaedia, remember?" Felix added in a falsetto voice. "Gee, that's peculiar," said Roger rubbing his head quizically with one ear.

Picard took advantage of the confusion to pull Data and Beverly away from the crowd. "All we know for now is there are foreign nanoprobes aboard the Enterprise" Picard explained in a lowered voice. "Then there is no time to waste, Captain" Data stated.

"Wow, a bowlin' ball!" cried Roger holding the black ball aloft for everyone to see "I always wanted one of these! I reckon I'd be an ace at bowlin'! Watch my form." Roger put on his best game-face, with his three gloved fingers inside the holes, he pulled back and swung the ball above his head. Picard's face dropped as he saw the short, sizzling, fuse attached to what was actually an erzats explosive. "FOOOOOUR!" Roger bellowed, ready to strike. "Roger, stop!" Picard shouted across the clamour. "You say something, Eddie?" Roger said already having thrown the bomb, which was stretching his arm as it took his hand with it, before pulling Roger off his feet.

The bomb sounded like thunder it as it rolled over and over across the polished nightclub floor, Roger helplessly spinning underneath before he managed to pop out and start running on top of it like a treadmill. "I was on a roll there!" he said as if an audience was watching. "The fuse, Roger, the fuse!" Picard called. "Blow out the candle, honey bunny!" Jessica added. Roger gazed down dopily and caught sight of the fuse passing under his feet and literally jumped out of his skin, bones and all, before landing back in one piece. Still running atop the rolling bomb, he feebly tried to blow out the fuse as it whizzed by but his timing just wasn't right. Then Roger looked up in time to catch sight of the kitchen doors he was speeding toward and gasped as a troupe of unlucky penguin waiters pushed through, each carrying a stack of pies in their flippers. They sang together in falsetto "ONE HUNDRED BANANA CREAM PIES!"

As a last-ditch attempt, Roger put his feet down in front of the runaway bomb, like Superman trying to stop a train. But, not being Superman, the sheer friction rubbed his feet away to nothing, like an eraser. Roger help up the smoking nubs of his feet and looked sympathetically at his imagined audience. With nothing left to lose, Roger lept from the bomb and landed mere feet in front of its path. He heroically thrust out his chest, held out his hand, in the open-palm universally recognised signal for 'HALT". The bomb merrily rolled along and right over Roger leaving him a cubist impression, flat on the floor.

Picard and the others watched helplessly as the bomb hurtled toward the kitchen and the Penguins. "Duck!" shouted Beverly, urging the Toons to shield themselves from the imminent explosion. "Hey, what's the big idea?" asked a white duck in a sailor suit before Beverly grabbed him by the bill and pulled him to the ground. The Penguins looked past their pies at Beverly's shout but it was too late. The bomb rolled right into them and exploded. The penguins were literally bowled over and crashed to the ground in the shape of and with the accompanying sound of bowling pins. A neon sign above the doors appeared reading 'TILT'.

Picard, Data and Beverly each took a pie to the face and were themselves bowled over the force. The pies rained down on the other Toons in a hail of crust and cream and everyone in the place was drenched, except Jessica who remained immaculate as ever. A screwy red squirrel pulled himself from under a pile of pie debris and noticed a pie beside him that had landed perfectly. He shrugged, not being one to let a good pie got to waste, he pasted himself square the face with it.

Beverly picked herself up and asked around if anyone was hurt. "It would take more than a couple pies and an explosive to do any serious damage to a Toon, Doc" Baby Herman said shirtily, wiping pie from his eyes. "I am fine, Doctor although my clothing has been soiled" Data added picking pie off his costume. "Enough is enough. Computer, end program!" Picard commanded wiping crust off his collar. He received no response in reply and the program continued. "Computer, end program" he repeated himself. "Unable to comply. Malfunction on Holodeck Six" the computer called back at last. "What kind of malfunction?"

"Unknown" the Computer stated bluntly. Picard was going to ask a followup when he felt something. A short dog-man type character rendered in black and white with the name 'BIMBO' proudly emblazoned on his sweater was tugging at his coat with his big gloved hands. He was silently pointing at something that had the rest of the room's full attention. Picard looked and joined Beverly, Data, Jessica, Roger and the Toons marvelling, Where there should have been a cartoon nightclub's kitchen, there was instead a destroyed and smoking Holodeck Arch, who's door was partially opening and closing in an obvious malfunction. The edges of the wall behind it flickered, revealing the yellow striped walls of the Holodeck momentarily.

 "Emergency Arch override engaged. Please leave the Holodeck at once for immediate repairs" the Computer spoke as the Toons looked around at the roof of the nightclub for the voice. The Arch door slid open and stayed open. The penguin waiters who had been at the crucible of the explosion, had dusted off the charring and seemed largely recovered and were now fascinated by what lay beyond the door; light, real light, flooding into the artificial nightclub from the hallway of the Enterprise. The Toons were whispering to each other in hushed tones. "What is that?" murmured a silly voice. "It doesn't look like California to me" came a gruff reply.

The penguins stepped cautiously and curiously toward to the door. "Stop!" Picard called, not yelling but imploring "Don't step outside those doors or you'll be erased, permanently!" The penguins looked back at each other, then at the mysterious doorway. A penguin at the front of the pack didn't notice as the others behind all took a big step back. He turned around to realise he'd been singled out. He looked again at the door. "Don't do it!" said Picard again, appealing to the penguins better judgement. The Penguin looked for help from the others who waved their flippers urging him on and so, with a gulp, the penguin gingerly stretched one foot out of the doorway. He winced as he planted his flat foot on the carpet outside. His eyes dared to pop open when nothing happened. He looked at his foot; still there. Now with even more care, he looked up at the archway as he carefully stepped through. Picard and Beverly held their breath waiting for the little penguin's deletion.

The penguin stood in the hallway waiting for something. Nothing happened. He scratched himself. Still nothing. He stared back at the other Toons inside and then scarpered away down the hall. The other Toons turned to each other and before Picard had the chance to offer any more warnings, they all stampeded through the broken archway and poured into the Enterprise. The rush created a trail of cartoon dust that Picard and Beverly were left coughing at. When it cleared, the holographic club was empty, save for a white rabbit in a waistcoat, carrying an oversized pocket watch who pushed past them. "Excuse me, pardon me, I'm running terribly late; Can you tell me, did I miss the party?" he asked in a rubber-band voice, not slowing down his hopping strides. "Yes, the guests just left through that doorway" Data added helpfully.

"Oh me, oh my, late again! Thank you, ma'am! I mean sirs. Hello, I must be going! I mean, goodbye I mustn't stay! Oh!!" the rabbit stumbled over his words as he hopped through the doorway, the last Toon out. Picard gave a subtle glare to Data who titled his head not able to completely register to the look.

"Should I not have given that rabbit, directions?"

Chapter Text

Captain Picard, Dr Crusher and Data stood in the partially destroyed holodeck that dozens of colourful animated characters had just escaped from. Picard tapped his comms badge. "Picard to Riker, we have an emergency on Holodeck 6."

"Is anyone hurt?" came the commander's reply.

"Negative but a multitude of holographic characters have just escaped the holodeck and are loose aboard the Enterprise."

"Holographic? Well, that may explain the drain on the ships - e-excuse me a moment Captain, one of the holograms has found it's way to engineering. Hey, don't eat that!"

"Are you alright, Number One?"

"If you can call a dancing goat is trying to chew a cadets uniform alright..."

"Are they threatening in any way?"

"No sir, they're just... well, they're pestering the engineering crew."

"If I'm not mistaken, I believe these incidents may be related. Whatever party has been tampering with the replicator might also be responsible for this holodeck malfunction."

"Geordi's been working on analysing the anomalies, sir. Recommend you come down and take a look for yourself."

 "On my way, Picard out. Computer, Yellow Alert." Picard, Beverly and Data left through the holodeck arch as the klaxon sounded, alerting civilians to their quarters and crew members to heightened readiness. Beverly informed the Captain "I'll head to sickbay in case there are any accidents," Picard gave her a nod before she disappeared around the corner. Data and Picard marched down the hallways, not stopping as Picard announced: "Picard to all security personnel, we have holographic intruders aboard the Enterprise. We don't know what threat they pose if any, so do not provoke them or treat them as hostile, repeat, do not treat them as hostile. I want the holograms escorted and confined to any available holodeck."

"Captain" Data interrupted "this may be an inadvisable course of action. If a toon does not wish to be caught, it is futile to try and contain them."

"Then I need you to find a way," Picard said firmly.

Picard and Data were suddenly halted by a Toon bird; tall, thin and with a purple comb on its head. It cocked it's head at them in a manner common to real birds before leaping into the air with a flick of its tongue and honking the words "Beep Beep!" The bird disappeared down the corridor leaving the word 'Toing' hanging in the air where it had been an instant earlier.

A great crescendo of rushing the music was heard as if something was racing toward them and sure enough, an underweight Toon canine came screaming down the hallway after the bird but froze in place, feet not touching the ground,  when the musical accompaniment hit a single chime which rang for a few seconds. The words 'Coyote' and a faux Latin description ('Canis Neverus Catchus') appeared in front of him, seemingly for Picard and Data's information. After a moment of suspended animation, the music resumed, the words were gone and the Coyote raced by.

Picard inhaled momentarily to make some comment when, to their surprise, a train came speeding down the hallway in the opposite direction. The Coyote could momentarily be seen in tremendous pain flattened against the cow-catcher in front. Only Data had the perception and instantaneous comprehension to see that in each window of the carriage, a silhouette of a Toon could be seen. Some kissing, some dancing, one being held up by gunpoint. The train sped by, followed by a pushcart being operated by a pig using the hand-pump and a turtle uselessly hanging onto the other side.

When the train had fully gone, Picard and Data carefully stepped into the corridor and found no sign of the bird, the canine or the train. The situation was becoming more chaotic by the minute. "Mr Data, I need you to find a way to get these Toons under control before the situation becomes any more volatile." Data thought for a split second. "I could access Earth's historical documents pursuant to 20th century animated cartoons to see if I can determine an effective method of detaining them."

"Very good, Mr Data. When you have something, liaise directly with security."

"Aye, sir."

They went their separate ways. On his walk to Engineering, Picard was deeply disturbed by the anarchy being caused by the unwelcome visitors. Dogs chasing cats chasing mice past him without so much as an 'excuse me'. Dusty clouds of fists and stars brawling down hallways. Toons merrily evading security staff by running through one door, followed by a yellow-shirt, only to impossibly exit from the neighbouring door.

Picard was horrified by what he saw when he passed Mr Mot's barbershop. A Toon woodpecker was singing an earth Opera in a sped-up voice as he took to the Bolian barber's face covered in shaving foam with a straight razor. Picard rushed in to stop the apparent attack when the woodpecker turned to him with a manic grin and asked "What do you think mister?" he asked, gesturing to Mr Mot who now sported an impossible amount of hair styled into a Victorian-era hive. Mr Mot's mouth desperately formed the unmistakable word 'HELP'. "Say, you look like you're about ready for a trim yourself!" said the Woodpecker, improbably referring to Picard's bald head, who took a step back. He didn't trust the wild look in the Toons eye or the scissors in his hands. Not a moment too soon a pair of security officers rushed in and tried to grapple the bird who slipped out of their arms and cart-wheeled down the hallway with an annoying, melodic, laugh. Mr Mot was now studying at his new do in the mirror behind him and by the look on his face was coming around to it. Not a moment more to lose, Picard made a beeline for Engineering.

"Mr LaForge-" Picard began as he arrived in Engineering before once again stopping in his tracks by a sight he could never have imagined aboard his ship. Picard struggled momentarily to form the absurd sentence "There's a pink elephant just behind you." Geordi looked up from his work station and casually checked over his shoulder. Sure, enough floating as if it weighed no more than a feather was an ungainly pink elephant. Something about the smile and lack of pupils made the creature seem, distinctly unwholesome. "Oh, good. You can see him too?" said Geordi dryly, poking the elephant with his finger, which burst into a cloud pink bubbles. Picard continued "Yes, we were engaged in the holodeck program these creatures came from moments ago when we experienced a malfunction that set them loose."

"Do they all pop this easily?" called Riker, using all 6 feet of his height to reach up and pop more pink elephants floating near the warp core before making his way over to join the conference.

"I'm afraid not. Data anticipates rounding them up to be a unique challenge" Picard added sourly. "Do we know how it's possible that they can exist outside the holodeck?"

"I believe we have that part solved, Captain," said Geordi bringing up the schematic on his monitor. "Normally, there's no way for a hologram to exist more than a foot outside the holodeck without anything to project it's mass and image. However, an unknown party has been clandestinely using the ship's replicators to create thousands of these nano-holoemitters. Don't ask me why but I expect it must for... this!" he said gesturing to an elderly Toon man with squinted eyes poking the barrier of the warp-core with a cane muttering indistinctly about how good the new soda-fountain sounded.

"What about the holodecks safety protocols?" asked Riker. "Any character that tries to leave the holodeck is supposed to be permanently deleted".

"As a failsafe against another Professor Moriarty" Picard added ruefully.  "My crew are still working on tracing it to a source but for now, someone has managed to lock us out of our own system". Geordi said plainly, folding his arms. Picard straightened up before speaking the thought. "Are you saying an unknown party has taken control of the Enterprise?"

"It doesn't appear so, not fully. We still have control over everything but the replicators. We just can't shut down the program or the emitters, yet" Geordi explained matter-of-factly. "To what end? What is the purpose of loosing these Toons on the Enterprise?" Picard probed further. Riker teased  "I've been working on a theory, Captain. Have you ever heard of a jack-in-the-box?"

"Yes, I had one as a very small boy. A toy box you would wind up until a puppet sprang out." Picard recalled without so much as a glint of nostalgia. "Not that kind. I'm talking about a jack-in-the-box program.  A program that is intended to surprise the user by throwing them into an unexpected scenario" Riker elaborated. "Are you suggesting this is some kind of elaborate practical joke?" Picard asked, a tone of offence in his voice. Riker gave a small shrug of the head. "Well, I am not amused. I do not take having the operations of a Federation ship compromised lightly." Picard said tersely as he stormed out of Engineering.

Across the Enterprise merry mayhem and hi-larious havoc was breaking loose. In Ten Forward, the Enterprises premiere recreation area and bar, Guinan was dodging glasses from a cat and mouse hellbent on destroying each other and everything around them in the process.

"Cut that out! You're getting glass everywhere!" shouted Guinan over the din "And you! Stop abusing the replicator!" she continued pointedly at a portly Toon gentleman with a bristly moustache surrounded by a pile of hamburgers. He took a break from chewing to respond "I would gladly pay you Tuesday for all these hamburgers today."

"Sir, you may not realise that we are now living in a post-scarcity world. Technology and ingenuity have guaranteed everyone their daily food. Money is no longer necessary." The character didn't appear to open his eyes as he finished swallowing another mouthful of burger before asking flatly "So, no charge then?"

The mouse on the other side of the bar stroked his wee chin in thought when inspiration struck. He ran over to the bar and pushed one of the stools over to the replicator opposite, scarpered up to where he could reach it and whispered something inaudible to the replicator behind his hand. The computer beeped in a negative fashion. "Replication of offensive weapons is prohibited." the computer informed him. The mouse turned in time to see the cat pull his head free from the mousehole, his head squashed into the peg hole shape, and bolt toward him with furious determination. The mouse jumped and hurriedly whispered something else at the Replicator which beeped in response and whirred to life. The cat was about to pounce when the mouse pulled a replicated banana from its skin, taking a satisfying bite from the yellow flesh and tossing the peel directly into the cat's path who skidded, slipped and crashed into the bar, flattening his face.

The cat shook it off, murder in eyes again, when he was greeted by several pies to the face, whose baked crust packed far more of a wallop than the gooey Toon pies he was used to being assaulted by. Next, a stream of seltzer water sprayed him in the face washing away the pie in time for him to hear the computer say "That temperature is unsafe for consumption, please confirm you wish to serve at 90 degrees Celcius." The cat jumped as it saw the mouse lob a bowl of steaming hot soup in his direction and was able to duck out of the way before it crashed to the floor. The cat laughed and gloated at his dexterity, sticking out his tongue at the mouse, until the spilt soup spread over to his feet which sent him leaping into the air with a strangely human scream.

Catching Guinan's attention again and seeing the food fight destroying her establishment, Guinan pushed the seemingly starving Toon man aside and spoke clearly "Replicator, one old fashioned Broom." "The requested item is too large to be synthesised at once and will be replicated separately. Do you wish to continue?" the computer asked. Guinan responded affirmatively and the bristles of a broom appeared in the replicator. "Good idea, the barmaid. The Hamburgers are beginning to pool around my ankles." said the Toon man between mouthfuls. Guinan flatly ignored the comment as the computer alerted "Please stand clear for broom handle replication." The broom handle grew outward, assembling particle by particle until it protruded several feet out of the replicator.

The cat was busy dodging foodstuffs thrown by the mouse when the broom Guinan had just assembled came down on his head. She batted at the cat and chased him around the bar shouting at him to 'beat it!' The mouse was laughing at the cat's ejection when Guinan picked him by his tail and tossed him out the door. "Computer," she said, catching her breath "Those two are banned. Authorisation Guinan-Ten."

The door sealed shut behind Guinan just before Counsellor Deanna Troi's voice rang out "Help! Help!" as she kicked and screamed being slung over the shoulder of her kidnapper, a Toon Wolf in a sharp tuxedo who was speeding down the hall past Ten Forward with his tongue hanging out. "This is totally inappropriate!" cried Troi "This is no way to express your libido!" But the Wolf wasn't listening, half-crazed with lust, he galloped further down the hallway until suddenly skidding to a halt at an intersection when a small Toon stopsign rang and held up an arm reading 'Stop'.

A little Toon ghost, white and featureless save for a face about the size of a child, ran down the intersecting corridor before stopping to catch his breath, which begged several questions. A gunshot blasted through the air and the ghost jumped and disappeared through a wall. Moments later a trio of Toon hunters decked out with big game gear and apparatus arrived in the corner looking every which way. "Uh-huh, 'scuse me, did you see a ghost come this way?" asked the mouse in red shorts, politely. "Yeah, uh, which way'd he go?" the dogman added goofily. A duck in a sailor suit added something unrepeatable. The Wolf simply shook his head and shrugged in reply. The trio gathered in a huddle and whispered to each other a game plan before rising and nodding firmly to each other. "He went that way!" They decided in unison each pointing a different direction and splitting up to find their quarry.

The little stop sign rang again and changed to 'Go'. That was all the Wolf needed to speed off with Counsellor Troi still in hand. He saw his chance when a crew member sleepily stepped out of their quarters to see about the noise interrupting his sleep, which was all the time Wolfie needed to race in and seal the door shut behind him. The angry crew member pounded on the door in protest as the wolf furiously barricaded the door with Toon boards, nails, chains, bars and a welding torch for good measure. He threw Counsellor Troi onto a chair at the dining table and sat at the opposite side, leaning over making kissy faces.

"Please, Mr Wolf" Troi said improvising "Let's not rush this. I need to be wined and dined first! See the replicator over there, why don't you go and order us something sweet." The Wolf muttered under his breath until Troi added suggestively "Something sweet always puts me in the mood." She was laying it on thick. The Wolf's temperature rose visually and he zipped up to the replicator and spoke hastily in a growly voice "Hey computer, dim the lights, play some music, gimme a world-class dessert and somethin' strong to warsh it down wit' and make it snappy!" The computer beeped affirmatively as the mood music began playing and the replicator whirred to life creating two glasses of champagne and a silver platter with a domed lid. He set the table at lightning speed and stood ready to serve.

"Baby, what's say we skip dinner and have our just desserts?" He opened the lid to find the dog with the long face in repose, modestly covered by a lettuce leaf. "Guess who?" he said flatly before assaulting the Wolf with a mallet. "My hero!" cried Counsellor Troi, playing up the scene and planting a kiss on the doggy's red-head of hair. The dog instantly screamed with joy, grinning, whooping and shouting as he dove around the room like a rocket before stopping instantly to address the Counsellor.

"You know what, miss?"

"What?"

"I'm Happy."

"Well, so am I," she said taking his hand and heading for the door. "My name is Deanna."

"People call me Droopy, ma'am" They stepped out and passed the exasperated crewman who was shocked to see the Wolf had somehow become a diminutive dog. "Droopy? That's an unusual name. Goodnight Lieutenant! Sorry about the intrusion."Counsellor Troi called walking off hand in hand with Droopy. The crewman didn't know what to make of the scene and went back to bed.

Outside the cargo bay, security chief Lieutenant Worf was briefing his taskforce. "Hologram or not, the intruder scared off the entire cargo crew and are reported to be unarmed but dangerous. Set phasers on stun." the Klingon explained in his distinct authoritative growl. The men and women readied their phasers and with a nod from Worf, opened the locked doors.

Worf stepped through, immediately checking the corners for an ambush. He gave the go-ahead signal and his crew began to creep in behind him. They proceeded to calmly and methodically sweep the area while Ensign Hayes kept his eyes and phaser locked onto the upper level for any signs of the intruder. Lieutenant Barnaby was inspecting a cluster of cargo barrels when suddenly "La Cucaracha! La Cucaracha! Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" came the splitting high-pitched voice of a cartoon Duck who burst out of the drum, dressed in an outrageous outfit with a hat adorned with fruit. Before Barnaby could react the duck had disappeared back inside the drum. He leaned inside to spot him and in return received a bite on the nose with a honking sound. His nose had never honked before...

Offended, Barnaby reached inside with his arm to try and pull the duck out when he inconceivably popped his head from an entirely different drum. "Nice try, buster!" he called, lisping as he spoke. Barnaby raced over to the drum but the duck was gone again and reappeared down the end of the row blowing a raspberry at him. The Lieutenant began tearing the lids off of all the drums and from the very last drum the duck appeared in a bath-cap scrubbing himself vigorously and humming a song "I'm just an angel in disguise..." before turning to face the ensign and letting out a girlish scream and grabbing a towel from the drum to cover himself. The duck blushed a moment before braining Barnaby with a brush.

The Lieutenant gathered himself before the duck, ironically fully nude, appeared behind him and started backing him toward the door with pointed fingers. "So, that's your little game, is it? Peepin' on innocent girls, are ya? Prowlin' the neighbourhood, will ya? Drinkin' your eyes full of my young flesh, do ya? Overwhelmin' ya, am I?" the duck accused in mock-outrage. Lt. Barnaby was so flustered by the inquisition he hardly knew what to say and had backed up against the wall beside the exit.

"I dare say, you are a cad, sir! A lowlife of the highest order. I, therefore, elect to take my leave of you before I have the mind to inform the authorities. And so I bid you, adios!" the duck announced grandly, making a big show of holding his beak in the air and marching toward the door which slid open. "Computer, seal the cargo bay!" shouted Worf. The doors closed on the duck's bill and Worf smiled to himself, seemingly having apprehended the troublemaker.

To everyone's shock, the duck pulled against the doors and his bill popped clean off. He turned and looked at them peevishly without his bill, looking like a burnt matchstick. He pressed his webbed feet against the door and gave an almighty pull and managed to pull his bill free. He somersaulted to the floor and then brushed himself off and calmly reaffixed his bill to his face. Worf's eyes were wide with disbelief. "My doctor told me I'm not supposed to do that anymore." the duck said casually to the unseen audience.

He then marched up to Worf, unintimated by the four-foot height difference and shouted brashly "Hey gruesome, say where'd you get that forehead? The crab nebula? Hoo-hoo!" the duck laughed like a cuckoo clock. He buddied up to the other security crew who had surrounded him, elbowing them in the shins playfully "Did you hear that? The crab nebula? Aw, I got a million of 'em I tell ya, a mill-" Worf grabbed the duck by the throat and lifted him so he could stare him straight in the eye. "These ridges are a symbol of my prowess as a warrior" Worf informed him stoically. The duck lept out of his grip  and landed on his shoulders like a child being carried by his father. He began poking and prodding Worf's ridges. "Aw, they don't look to sharp to me!" he said as he leaned over to see his reflection in the forehead. "You should seriously think about getting these polished, grisly" spitting as he enunciated each syllable. Worf furiously threw the duck off of him but the duck bounced and recoiled off the floor like it was nothing.

"You dare spit in the face of a Klingon warrior!" Worf raged. "Spit? SPIT? I don't spit! I never spray spittle when I speak, sir! I insist you stop spreading such superstitious slander at once!" the duck foamed. The security team stood back and turned their heads to avoid the spray. Worf wiped away saliva droplets from his cheek. "You are either a very brave duck or extremely foolish" Worf spoke gravely hoping to instil the fear of God in the little character. 

Clearly it didn't work because not a second later the Duck was in mid-air pressing his lips against Worf's and landed in his arms bridal style. He batted eyelashes at the Klingon and giggled "I'll bet you say that to all the girls!" Again Worf roared as he threw the duck clear across the room who bounced up again, unharmed. "DIE, INANE WATERFOWL!" Worf cried as he open-fired on the duck who dodged every blast and ran straight through the sealed doors leaving a duck-shaped imprint.

The other security staff weren't sure how to respond to any of this, particularly the chief of security's loss of temper. Worf offered his excuse "He dishonoured me by kissing me on the mouth!". The crew said nothing. Worf continued to himself. "It should not even be possible to kiss with a beak"

In the arboretum, Keiko O'Brien had pulled her husband Miles away form his work. "I took the time to put in for a plot to raise fresh produce aboard the Enterprise and they've gone and destroyed months of my work!" she said, well put out. "Who's they?" asked Miles. "These two rodents," said Keiko brushing past some foliage where two cartoon gophers sat wiping their mouths daintily with handkerchiefs. "I say, a little privacy please!" One of them said in a brisk posh fashion."Yes, yes, it's terribly rude to intrude on ones digestion. Terribly rude!"

Miles puzzled at the animated critters and looked to his wife for a clue. "Well, what do you want me to do about them?" he asked defensively. "Get rid of them!"

"Well, why couldn't you have done it?"

"I don't know where they came from! They may bite."

"I assure you, good woman, we do not bite" interjected one the Gophers. "Not unless you ask politely!" added the other. They both giggled effetely at their own little joke.

"All right boys, parties over," said O'Brien leaning down and reaching in to feel around for them. The Gophers disappeared into what remained of the vegetation and appeared unnoticed by O'Briens feet.

"Shall we?"

"Surely!"

One of them improbably pulled a book of matches from behind his back, promptly struck one against the match paper and shoved the lit match under O'briens shoe.

"Did you get them?" called Keiko squeamishly. "I can't find that blasted rodents!" barked O'Brien. It was just then Keiko noticed the thin wisp of smoke and spotted the match burning just about to reach Miles' foot. "Miles!" was all she was able to get out before a cacophony of Irish cursing.

At the back of the arboretum, the Gophers sunned themselves at the water's edge of the lily pond. "Ah, the sounds of nature" waxed one of the Gophers. "Wellitain'tPismoBeachbutit'llhavetodo" came an even squeakier, faster, barely comprehensible voice. The Gophers looked up to see a pair of chipmunks frolicking in the water and splashing about. "I say, do you mind? We're trying to enjoy the tranquillity!" called one of the Gophers indignantly. "AwGosoeakyourheadwiseguy" called the goofy looking chipmunk with buck teeth. "What was that? I scarcely caught a word! Do speak up, do!" A volley of water was splashed at the bathing gophers followed by the Chipmunks uproarious squeaky laughter. The Gophers shook themselves dry and then announced "Of course you realise, this means war!" and shook hands. One of them produced a flute and began playing a patriotic tune as he marched in retreat and the other followed putting on a limp.

Before any battle plans could be drawn, the red fist of Miles O'Brien caught them both and lifted them up to his exasperated face, smiling in an unpleasant way. "The Federation takes a dim view of war, fellas." He carried them out of the Arboretum, Keiko following behind but not too closely, as he wondered aloud "Now then... what to do with you. Waste reclamation, perhaps?"

In Medbay, Dr Crusher was run off her feet with patients. The Toons particular brand of mischief barely registered with each other but had a longer-lasting effect on their Enterprise crew.

"Don't tell me, you were hit on the head with a mallet?" Beverly asked attending another yellow shirt staggering in holding his head. "Yeah, this damned gremlin lured me in and-"

"Just take it easy, you're going to be alright," She said leading him to the crowded bedding area. "Another blunt force trauma victim" she reported to a member of her medical staff. 

"Pardon me, 'scuse me, one side, comin' t'rough" came the Brooklynese voice of the wiseacre rabbit who rushed into sickbay pushing past the doctors. He stopped at Beverly's side and panted out of breath "Doc! I'm glad I caught ya! I have a medical question that needs your expertise!" Beverly knelt down to address him at his level and explained patiently "I'm a doctor, not an animator. I don't know how to treat any Toon ailments if you'll excuse me-" She went to stand up but the bunny tugged at her coattails, entreating "But it's oigent! If you's don't answer dis question, I might not get anudda chance!" The Doctor sighed and against her better judgement, she bit. "Alright, what do you want to ask?" The rabbit dropped all pretence of emergency and casually pulled a carrot from behind his back, took a few noisy bites and asked slyly "Nyeeh, what's up, doc?"

Beverly stood to her full height and spoke sternly. "Do you want to leave quietly or do I need to call security?"

Before he could rattle off a smart-aleck reply, a sickening groan came from the door as security personnel carried in a crewman on a gurney. Beverly hurried over to the patient and asked what happened as she scanned the patient with her tricorder. His face had visible second-degree burns. "From what we could gather a Toon put a cigar in his mouth which exploded in his face. I think it was some sort of practical joke." said the security member. "Some joke," said Beverly gravely. They wheeled him to surgery and she reported to Doctor Ogawa. "I've given him 10ccs Anesthizine, take him into surgery and I'll need a dermal regenerator" she informed her economically. Nurse Ogawa nodded and took custody of the patient.

Beverly caught her breath and saw the grey rabbit still leaning nonchalantly. "Let me ask you something, are all Toons this destructive?" The rabbit thought for a moment and replied: "Wit' very few exceptions, doc."

Contrasted against the bedlam in sickbay, Jessica and Roger had found the observation lounge and were standing in quiet awe, hand in, hand, humbled by the enormity of space laid out before their eyes. "Oh my..." spoke Jessica "Roger, have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Well, there was that time we filmed on the moon! Why the King of the Martians would kidnap you on the moon instead of mars, I never knew! I told Raoul, that picture had script problems from day one!" Roger rambled. "Yes, Honey-Bunny but that was the Toon Moon. You can reach that putting our stepladder on the roof of the garage. Something inside tells me we're as far from little old Earth as two Toons have ever been. It's a terribly humbling feeling."

"Yeah..." said Roger not quite reaching his wife's depths "Say, do you think they had to go into space to shoot the Universal logo?"

"Honey-bunny, why don't you and I just stand here and stargaze a while, hmm?" Jessica suggested.

"But of course, carrot cake!" said Roger rapturously leaning his head on his wife's shoulder.

After a moment's bliss, he added "You won't hear another word out of me! Not a peep! No ma'am. Just you, me and the hum of those beautiful engines" carrying on exactly as Jessica knew he would but she didn't mind one bit.

Picard walked briskly down the hallway toward his quarters followed by a loudmouth rooster who was completely oblivious that Picard was trying to get away from his as quickly as possible.

"Take it easy there, son! You're walkin' too fast! A big cruise ship like this's bound to have regulations against runnin' in the halls!" the Rooster half-yelled in his southern-fried Kentucky accent without missing a breath "Didn't they teach you that in school? No, wonder you never learned, you're too busy talkin'! I can't get a word in edgeways! Don'cha, I say, don'cha know listenin' is the bedrock of diplomacy! Think a big cheese like you'd know a thing like that! Communication, son, you got to communicate!"

Picard reached his door and purposely stood in the doorway to make clear the rooster was very much not invited in. "Yes!" Picard shouted over him "Well, I'll keep that in mind. If you'll excuse me..." The Rooster went to begin another spiel before Picard's door slid shut. "Nice guy but about as sharp as a bowlin' ball," he said to nobody in particular. A crew member walked by not stopping to regard the big chicken. The rooster followed after her to make sure she heard him "Say! bowlin'.. ball! Q-ball! That's a joke, kid, a joke! Gag that is. Didn'cha hear me sister, made a crack about the Cap'n's recedin' hairline!"

Inside relative safety of his quarters, Picard sat at his desk and rubbed his head in equal measure of frustration and relief. At least here, the Toons couldn't get to him. The computer chirped to attention and relayed "Incoming message from Starfleet Command." This just wasn't Picard's night. He tapped accept on the keyboard.

"Captain Picard, this is Rear Admiral Ira Hensley, I don't believe we've had the pleasure" the head onscreen spoke with an impersonal clip. He was younger than he'd expected a rear-admiral but his penetrating blue eyes and well-trimmed beard were no-nonsense. "What can I do for you, Rear Admiral," Picard said doing his best to speak at attention, though his nerves were shot and he'd been hoping to be in bed by now. "Starfleet has been made aware of your current situation, Captain." Hensley put bluntly. Before Picard could ask, Hensley continued "Your first officer made an official report by subspace requesting official directions on the matter of the holographic persons aboard your ship." Picard's nodded as he absorbed the news. He didn't like having Starfleet involved in a somewhat embarrassing situation such as this but he realised, he didn't have any plan past retreating to this quarters. "I see" came his non-reply. "Captain Picard, if you'll excuse the phrase, I'd like to cut to the chase." Picard reclined agreeably. "By all means, Rear Admiral."

"You can't shut down the holoemitters."

"Well, not yet, our engineers are still trying to trace the source of-"

"You misunderstand, they aren't even to try and shut them down."

Picard furrowed his brow. "You mean, even if they found a way-"

"They aren't permitted to find a way, Captain" Hensley interrupted yet again.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Then I'll make it simple, your engineers are under direct orders to cease investigating the possibility of shutting down the holoemitters, effective immediately." Picard sat up, rankled at the condescension in the Rear Admiral's tone. "Understood. But may I ask a question?" Picard asked, assiduously. "Yes, you may" Hensley smiled, enjoying the formal submission. "How exactly can I be expected to perform my duties as a Captain with these characters aboard my ship?"

"That's why it's called Star- Fleet. There are other ships that can deal with Federation missions. Captain, you may not be aware of the controversy the Federation has been embroiled in for many months now," he shot the Captain a look "No thanks to you." Picard's frown was beginning to give way. "A growing number of Federation citizens and representatives have growing concerns about holographic persons."

"You mean holograms?" Picard confirmed. "No, I mean holographic persons. A hologram is designed to exist and interact within the parameters of their program. The computer failsafe simply erases any hologram that tries to leave their program, problem solved. However, as you are no doubt aware by now it is not beyond the realm of possibility for errors to occur which can result in holograms exceeding their programming and become holographic persons."

"Exceed their programming? Exceed how?"

"The moment these characters left the holodeck they went beyond what they were designed for. They became more. They became aware of who and what they are, understanding the nature of their own existence. This begs innumerable ethical and philosophical questions about their rights and protections. It's argued that with every new experience, interaction, memory, they become more individual and as individuals are protected by Federation Law." Picard was now beginning to lose himself in the possible ramifications. A thought occurred to him. "You said, 'no thanks to me?'"

"I did. Thanks to Federation law you helped establish. You have argued for the rights of artificial intelligence amongst your crew, did you not?"

"You cannot seriously compare an android as advanced as Data to-"

"And why not? Because Data is shaped like a man? Are we so vain as to only protect those made in our image, Captain Picard?" Picard had to concede the point. "Fine. Fine! But if we are not permitted to shut down the program, can we not put the characters into stasis and wake them when a more permanent solution has been found?"

"Not since the Professor Moriarty incident, which I believe you also had a hand in if I'm not very much mistaken," Hensley said relishing his own correctness. "Once a program is aware of itself, it remains in a state of semi-consciousness even while the program is stored in memory. It's not hard to argue those are inhumane conditions. The Moriarty case is still being hotly debated. Can the hologram of a fictional criminal be tried for the crimes his author had him commit? You begin to see the rabbit-holes we're facing. Though I must commend your crew on their solution, Captain." This compliment rather took Picard by surprise. "A self-contained simulation for Moriarty to explore without ever realising he is still inside a program? A very tidy loophole. Tidy and humane." Running with Hensley's approval, Picard offered "Could we not then do the same for the Toons? Create some ToonTown program for them to retire to?"

"You think we haven't explored that possibility? No, Captain. That little ruse may have worked for Moriarty but we're talking about dozens of individual characters and complex ones at that. You may be interested to know that a hologram of a Toon character is several magnitudes more data than a hologram of a human being. I believe it's to do with their bizarre physics." Captain Picard was not particularly fascinated. Hensley continued "Suffice it to say, the genie is out of the bottle and will not be going back in. Many would argue that we have no right to make them just because they are an inconvenience to you and your crew."

"Inconvenience? Rear Admiral, they're running amok!" Picard said, exasperated. "Come now, where's the famous Picard diplomacy I've read so much about? Granted, their customs may be foreign to you but you deal with different cultures on a regular basis. Is it not in your mission statement to seek out new forms of life?"

"This is not life, Mr Hensley," said Picard, his ire drawn. "It is an artificial recreation of an antiquated form of entertainment for children!"

"A shame. I was told you were a lover of the arts. These are living pieces of ancient Earth's art history. Think of it as a cultural exchange!" Picard couldn't help but smirk at the comment. "I prefer somewhat more elevated forms of art. I very much doubt that opera and cartoons mix."

"Be that as it may, while we sit here so pleasantly chatting, they are walking around your ship, interacting with your crew and learning about your world. If you could control your personal prejudices, you might learn something from them."

"What are we to learn from a gaggle of pigs, mice and funny little bald men. A collection of childish figments and adolescent fantasies!" Picard declared, his temper flaring once again. Hensley spoke coldly, unhappy with this insubordinate tone. "Fact or fiction, Picard, it is Starfleet's position that they are new lifeforms and your responsibility."

"Rear Admiral, what are my orders," said Picard his patience running thin.

"I'll tell you exactly what your orders are, so that there may be no misunderstanding: Captain Picard, from this time you are now personally responsible for the holographic specimens until their exact legal status can be determined. Their well-being is now the Enterprise's primary mission! Rear Admiral Ira Hensley, out."

Picard stared at the United Federations logo on the now blank screen as the abhorrent nature of his orders fully dawned on him.

Chapter Text

[Captains Log, supplemental. Under direct orders from Rear Admiral Hensley, the Enterprise is now acting host to a race of holographic characters from Earths' past known as Toons. I've called an emergency meeting with my senior staff at 0400 to brief them on our new diplomatic mission]

It was the middle of the night cycle for most of the senior staff but they were already wide awake from the pandemonium following the Toons arrival aboard the ship. They had dutifully put on their uniforms and sat stifling yawns and sipping coffee to keep themselves awake in the plush-padded seats around the conference table as Captain Picard wearily explained the situation.

"And as such, Starfleet has charged us with the Toons welfare until they can make up their minds what to do with them."

"So, you mean we're stuck babysitting these lunatics?" Commander Riker asked not bothering to mask his displeasure.

Counselor Troi suggested "Well, assuming Starfleet is correct and these Toons are a new lifeform, can't we reason with them? We could simply ask them to return to the ToonTown program. Surely, they'd be happier in their own homes." 

"Counselor" Lt. Commander Data politely interjected "Would that not constitute wilful disobedience of Rear Admiral Hensley's orders? He was clear in specifying that forcing the Toons back to the Holodeck would be a violation of their rights" he explained succinctly.

Picard who had wandered over to the replicator for his favourite (tea, earl grey, hot) to soothe his nerves said: "It violates the spirit of our orders, but not the letter." Riker added with a wry smile "If the Toons wished to return to ToonTown, we couldn't very well be reprimanded for accomodating our guests"

"I could run some simulations to see how running the ToonTown holoprogram would affect ship operations" Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge added helpfully. "Now that the replicators are back online it appears we've regained complete control of our systems, though we're running continuing diagnostics to make sure Felix doesn't have any more tricks up his sleeve."

"I can't help but feel responsible" Doctor Crusher remarked, "If I hadn't have brought Felix's unverified holoprogram aboard in the first place, none of this would have happened." Picard took his tea back to his seat at the head of the table "Don't blame yourself, Doctor, I'm confident in saying there's no way you or anyone else could have anticipated this." After a long deep sip, his senses revived, he thought and spoke with clarity "Even if it is feasible to run the program permanently and supposing the Toons agreed to reside in their ToonTown homes, there's no getting around the fact that they are now civilian members of this ship and we must find a way to live with them."

"These... things are to be allowed to run wild aboard the Enterprise?" Security Chief Worf growled in dissatisfaction. "On the contrary, Mr Worf," Picard reassure him "As civilians aboard the Enterprise they will be expected to follow regulations. Their free reign ends when it comes to impeding or endangering the crew. I trust you'll have no objection to enforcing codes of conduct?"

"It will be my pleasure, Captain," said Worf, pleased. Picard continued "Mr Data has been doing some research and has prepared a presentation on our guests. Lieutenant..." he said giving the floor to Data.

"Thank you, sir" Data took his PADD  and stepped over to the opposite end of the table and turned on the monitor which displayed the United Federation of Planets standby screen. "Since the Toons arrival, I have studied nearly one hundred and fifty hours of animated cartoons. Without going into too great a detail, animated cartoons were an art form indigenous to Earth in the 20th century. Sequential drawings of a figure, usually timed to music and vocal performances were then painted onto celluloid, photographed and would be projected in movie theatres for paying audiences"

Data interfaced momentarily with his PADD and scenes from animated cartoons of Earths past began playing on the monitor. The staff had swivelled their chairs to follow Data's presentation and studied the screen. Most of them had never seen a cartoon before and were absorbed by the images. Skeletons dancing in unison through a graveyard. A cat in tie and tails giving a piano recital, distracted by a mouse. A frog with a top hat and cane doing chorus kicks inside a lunch pail. Some were shown in a monochrome palette with shades of grey, others in a riot of bright primaries and pastels.

Animated scenes continued on the monitor as Data proceeded  "The holographic Toons now installed aboard the Enterprise are recreated likenesses of the characters in these films. Many are duplicates of the most popular animated stars of that era." A montage showed varieties of animated mice, cats, dogs, pigs, chickens and a few oddly-proportioned human figures. Some clothed others not so. One of the characters caught Worf's attention.

"Freeze image!" he shouted urgently. Data instantly paused the montage with android reflexes. "Who... is that?" Worf asked pointing at the monitor. "That is Daffy Dumas Duck" Data informed him of the little black duck with his beak facing the wrong way. "Created in collaboration in 1937 by Director Tex Avery and Animator Bob Clampett, he-"

"Not him" Worf growled "The Toon carrying the weapon." Data glanced at the monitor and explained: "That would be Elmer Fudd, a comical hunter and adversary to Daffy in many cartoons."

"A warrior." Worf intoned with Klingon solemnity.

"In a sense." Data continued "Daffy once called Elmer 'nimrod' in reference to the biblical hunter, however, the comment was meant facetiously and-"

"Mr Data, could we return to the topic of your presentation?" Picard inquired gently. "Certainly sir" Data nodded, continuing the montage "Toons have unique physiology governed by the conventions of animated cartoons, rather than our own models of physics and biology. They have been known to defy gravity, move at impossible speeds and pull objects from thin air. It appears that in designing this program Felix has been meticulous in his fidelity to cartoon physics and as such, the Toons holographic counterparts are capable of all these phenomena."

"You mentioned their physiology," Doctor Crusher enquired "Is there anything my medical staff should know about treating them?"

"I do not believe so, Doctor. Toons are able to recover from injuries in a matter of moments that would take a human months of rehabilitation. They are able to shake off shotgun blasts, falling off cliffs and being flattened by anvils. If anything, injury is something they have a psychological aversion to, rather than something that causes them physical pain. As you have no doubt discovered, the collateral damage from their antics poses more of a threat to the human crew, than we do to them."

"In that case, they'll need someone to help them adjust to life aboard a starship and living with human beings." Counselor Troi offered.

"Your services will be invaluable, Counselor" Data affirmed, "My research suggests many cartoon characters are neurotic, obsessive, individuals; fanatical in the pursuit of their goals and rarely learn from past mistakes."

"Sounds like they're overdue for some personal growth," said Deanna, smiling at the prospect.

"Agreed, however, we must consider the possibility that some Toons will not accept counselling and will continue to behave in a disruptive manner." Riker asked what everyone was thinking "Then how are we to arrest a Toon who becomes a threat to themselves or others?" Data continued "If a Toon is being pursued by an aggressor, they will use, in the vernacular of the time, 'every trick in the book' to avoid capture. Detaining a Toon against his will has proven to be a difficult prospect but not impossible. I have some working theories regarding Toon security I would like to discuss in greater detail with Lieutenant Worf." Worf nodded. "However, Despite some Toons tendencies toward mayhem and violence, cases of homicidal Toons are exceptionally rare. Those with intent to cause harm will almost always have their plans backfire on themselves. While we should make efforts to curb antisocial behaviour, I believe that understanding the Toons will make our cohabitation, a harmonious one. Thank you." Data concluded, switching off the monitor.

"Thank you, Data." Picard said, now addressing the room "Well, I'm sure you know how vital each of your roles will be in making our new mission a success. I trust each of us to meet this diplomatic challenge with tact and professionalism. Dismissed." Everyone eagerly stood and stretched themselves. Picard placed his empty cup in the replicator and recycled the materials. Riker waited his turn to recycle his coffee cup as he gulped down the last few swigs. Picard remarked offhand "Number one, should you be drinking coffee at this time of night? Your shift ends in a few hours."

"I've got someone to cover for me, I'm taking some personal hours for the party."

"Party? It's the middle of the night-shift." Picard remarked.

"Everyone was given a rude awakening by the Toons arrival, so Guinan's throwing an impromptu welcome bash in Ten-Forward," Geordi said. "You should join us, Jean-Luc, get to know the Toons in an informal setting." suggested Troi pleasantly.

"Thank you but I've already attended one Toon party this evening. I'd really better catch up on some sleep. Goodnight." Picard said deflecting the invitation and heading out the door. Worf wasn't far behind him.

"Don't tell me you're not coming too?" called Troi. Data sidled up beside him with his PADD and simply said "Lieutenant Worf and I are going to strategise Toon security in greater detail should there be any incidents at the party." "Another time perhaps," said Worf in his usual non-committal tone, heading out. "Enjoy the party." Data added before following him.

Dr Crusher, Counselor Troi, Geordi and Riker were the last crew standing. "Well, looks like it's just us" Riker observed, "Let's find a turbo-lift".

"Hold on" Beverly interjected "I picked a little trick in ToonTown that will get us there much faster," she said intriguingly as she stood at the open doorway. "Watch this."  She looked both ways down the corridor and held out her with great importance.

Benny the cab pulled up at the door instantaneously. "Sorry to keep ya waitin', toots!" he grinned. "Hi Benny, I'm fixin' to leg it over to the gin mill for the big shindig," Beverly said affecting her best trans-Atlantic accent. "Walkin's for breadliners, sister. Hop in!" He barked back in the parlance of the day. "Reckon my pals could tag along?" she asked gesturing to the others. "Well..." he thought out loud "How long can they hold their breath?" Riker, Geordi and Troi looked at each other, perplexed by the question. "Ah, forget it. It'll be a squeeze but I'll just have to run a few reds. Hop in, folks!" he said propping open his door. They filed in and were packed like sardines, it wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Do you know how to get there, Benny?" Beverly asked.

"Hey, no backseat drivers! I know what I'm doing Delores."

"I go by Beverly here" she corrected.

"Whatever floats your boat. Hold on!" Benny roared speeding off down the hallway. He swerved and drove with two wheels on the walls to avoid a crewman. "Watch it, lame-brain!" Benny screamed "Unbelievable! These pedestrians are all over the sidewalk!" Benny called back at his passengers who were holding on for dear life.

Very quickly but not soon enough, he slammed on the breaks outside Ten-Forward. "Last stop, everybody off, watch your step!" Benny called energetically. The crew stepped out shakily, glad to feel carpet beneath their feet. Most of them had never been on a roller-coaster before but they imagined that was probably something like it. But safer. "Don't forget to tip your driver" Benny called grinning a toothy smile, holding out a fender. "Benny, we don't use money any more, we live in a-"

"Yeah, yeah, post-scarcity society!" He growled, making air-quotes with his fenders "That's what the last guy said! You 24th-century guys are a bunch of cheapskates!" He peeled out and shouted at more civilians to get out of his way.

The crew looked at each other and found they didn't have the words to express an experience like that and so they stepped into Ten Forward to find the party in full swing. The sight of Toons and Humans mingling together was a welcome one. They could be seen in pairs at the bar, drinks in hand, or sitting at tables together, Toons sampling replicated food for the first time or struggling to play multi-level chess. Small groups stood in vaguely circular clusters talking and laughing, the happy hum of conversation in the air.

In the far corner of the lounge, a band comprised of a mixed group played together as a jazz ensemble. Their sound was a little rough but enthusiastic. The goofy dogman carefully studying sheet music, hands quivering in anticipation for the exact moment to ring his triangle. A chubby little Toon owl in a red coat and blue bowtie with big yellow eyes was performing a two-step and singing "I love to sing-a! About the moon-a and the june-a and the spring-a! About a sky of blue or tea for two, I love to sing!" The crowd applauded appreciatively except for an Owl who looked like he could be the little one's father shaking his head disapprovingly.

Guinan dropped off some refreshments to a table and approached the senior staff who stood watching from the doorway. "Good morning, how're you enjoying the show?" she asked graciously."It's quite a sight," said Riker. Troi hastened to add "That little owl is a very talented singer."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet, after the jazz singer, we've got a flying elephant doing a circus act!" said Guinan taking her empty tray away to fill more orders.

"Sounds like we'd better stick around, I've never seen an elephant fly." remarked Beverly. "We have, sister!" called a Magpie in a rough Brooklynn accent. "And it is remarkable!" said his twin, strolling off together in linked arms.

"Hey, Wolf!" Guinan shouted firmly from behind the bar "I told you to keep it in your pants!" All eyes fell on a Toon wolf dressed in cowboy regalia spinning a pistol around his index finger seemingly to impress the blonde civilian he'd cornered. He pointed innocently at himself to wordlessly ask 'who, me?' Guinan gave a signal to one of the security crew. The wolf began panting and perspiring at the sight Lieutenant Bailey who approached with a no-nonsense look in her eye and a phaser at her side.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to escort you out, sir." she said plainly. "Baby, I'd follow you anywhere!" the wolf growled pushing the brim of his hat up with his pistol in an effort to seem suave. Lt. Bailey looked him up and down, she knew his type Toon or human. She blew the end of the pistol like a birthday candle which promptly went flaccid and hung limp. Everyone in the place burst out laughing. The wolfs face hung as long as the barrel of his gun as Lt. Bailey picked him up with one arm by his pants, revealing a glimpse of the heart-stamped boxer shorts and carried him out of Ten Forward. The bar applauded, Counsellor Troi was especially appreciative.

"Roger!" Beverly called out to the rabbit and his wife who were enjoying the performance. Roger's ears perked up and he looked around, spotting Beverly waving toward him and pulling his wife over to meet them.

"Hiya Delores, great to see ya! Some party, huh?" Roger rambled.

"Ahem" coughed his wife unsubtly.

"You got a cough, love cup?" Roger asked gooily

"No dear, you were just going to introduce me to your friends" Jessica explained.

"I was? Sure, I was! This is-" he stopped himself, straining to recall Commander Riker "Uuh, well that's-" He said pointing to Geordi, "And you are-" he said looking confused at Troi. He chewed his nails momentarily realising he didn't know any of these people. When he returned to Beverly "Well, you remember good ol' Delores!"

"Actually, it's Beverly, Beverly Crusher." she said extending her hand to shake Jessica's.

"Jeepers, I don't know anybody at this party!" Roger said exasperated.

"I'm Jessica, Rogers wife, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Jessica said breathily "And these gentlemen are?" The men were in a state of shock. Not only at the sight of this stunningly exaggerated specimen of womanhood but that she was apparently married to the sloppy little hare at her knee. Beverly swooped in to save them the embarrassment of not remembering their own names.

"This is Commander William Riker, Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge and our ship's counsellor Deanna Troi."

"Wonderful band, wouldn't you say." Jessica said to Riker casually.

"Y-yes wonderful. Uh, wonderful band" babbled Riker, normally so charming. Jessica was used to having this effect on most men.

"Well, why don't we all get a drink, hmm? I'd just love to hear about your work aboard this vessel" Jessica said poised as ever, leading them to the bar. Beverly and Roger followed close behind. Troi stopped Riker and Geordi momentarily and half-whispered teasingly before heading to bar. "Don't think I didn't sense that." Riker and Geordi shared a glance of shame having their lust being as loud and obvious to an empath as a foghorn. They composed themselves and met their friends at the bar.

"I've got drinks here for a Tom and Jerry!" Guinan called out from the bar placing a pair of drinks on the countertop and returning to fill more orders. The cat and mouse who had earlier been at each others throat strolled up together, the cat even bending down and lifting the mouse up onto the bar for him to reach. He thanked his newfound friend with a courtly bow, their mortal quarrel seemingly forgotten. They took their drinks at the same time a pair of gloved hands did the same. The cat and the mouse stared at a pair of black and white humanoid Toons, one in a rakish coat and the other in overalls. They all looked back and forth at each other in confusion.

Ahead of the senior staff in line was a mouse in red shorts and several black-and-white characters who bore a certain resemblance to the mouse. One was a rabbit, another a cat, a dog, a frog, and several humanoids.

"I'll have a virgin long-island iced tea." said the mouse in his chipper falsetto voice.

"I'll have the same!"

"Me too!"

"Me three!"

Came the voices of the other characters in chorus. Guinan gave them an odd look but obliged by calling out to the replicator dryly: "Eight Iced Teas." The replicators whirred and the drinks sitting in their lovely long-necked glasses appeared. "Ok, Here's one for Mickey, one for Felix and Oswald, Flip the Frog, Bosko, Bimbo, Buddy and Scrappy."

"Thanks, Guinan!" cried the mouse taking a sip and heading off to find somewhere to sit."

"Yeah, thanks, Guinan!"

"Thanks, Guinan!"

"Thank you, Guinan!"

Cried the others evidently hanging on the mouses every word.

"Hello Guinan," said Beverly now at the front of the bar with her friends "Congratulations of the party, everyone's hitting it off better than I could have expected"

"Well, Toons aren't so bad once you get to know them. Right, Wimpy?" she called over her shoulder to the portly Toon gentleman standing at the replicator for yet another hamburger. "Quite so, barkeep! Could I trouble you for some mustard?" he called back. "Nyeeeh, could I trouble you for some mustard." the grey rabbit said mockingly, momentarily gaining several pounds to imitate the hapless hamburger fiend.

Guinan returned to wiping the counter. "They have their vices but I guess you could they're only human," she said slyly "And besides they're natural entertainers! We've got a request form a mile long to perform in Ten Forward. We're gonna have a new act every night this week!"

"I'll drink to that! Gimme a double shot!" Roger declared.

"Roger, darling, hadn't you better take it easy" his wife suggested dotingly. She leaned her enormous cleavage over the bar and said in a lower voice than usual "Alcohol tends to disagree with my Roger, makes him a little... explosive."

"Roger? With a temper?" Guinan said, disbelieving. "Literally, explosive," said Jessica, italics in her words. Guinan got the picture and stepped over the bar. "Well, I don't think he'll have a problem keeping this down," Guinan said as he replicated a glass of something dark for him and a tall drink of something clear for her. She placed the drinks in front of them. "Bottoms up!" "Gee thanks!" said Roger downing the drink in one gulp splashing most of it down his front.

His wife cringed waiting for an ear-splitting eruption but instead, all that came up was a small blech. "Pardon et Moi!" said Roger bashfully "That was delicious and so strong! Another, seafood-play!" Roger called in mutilated french.

"Come on Roger, let's find somewhere to sit." said Beverly offering her arm. "Lead the way, Delores. Or Beverly, or whoever you are!" said Roger gleefully.

Jessica looked astonished. "I don't understand," she turned to direct her confusion at Guinan "normally one-drop sends hot air shooting out his ears!"

"I'll let you in on a little secret," said Guinan conspiratorially, leaning over the bar and looking around making like she didn't want anyone to overhear "It's Synthehol."

"Synthehol?" Jessica repeated back.

"Not a drop of real alcohol in it but replicated to taste just like the real stuff."

"I don't believe it!" said Jessica taking a sip of her drink and letting it sit on her pallette "You mean, nobody in the 24th-century drinks at all?"

"Not aboard the Enterprise," said Guinan, "You think a starship this big would run if everybody ran around with their heads swimming?"

Jessica went to find Beverly and Roger while Beverly and Riker made their orders. While waiting his turn, a brown Toon dog with a big muzzle sniffed around Geordi's ankles before jumping up with his paws on Geordi's shoulders and hollering in a goofy voice "Which way, did he go Geordi? Which way did he go?" Geordi shook the dog off and asked "Which way did who go? What are you talking about?" The dog looked vacant for a second and appeared to strain himself in thought before replying "Duuuh, I dunno!" before returning to sniffing around the floor.

The senior staff assembled at a table with Roger and Jessica and took in the atmosphere. "To the big one!" shouted a shabby-looking Toon in an old Earth army uniform raising a glass at the table next to theirs. The Toon with a big nose wearing an old Earth navy uniform added: "To the big one being 300 years behind us!" The pair toasted and downed their drinks. The army man wondered out loud "Yeah, I wonder how it all turned out..."                     

"What big one was that?" said Riker to the rest of the table who couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

"What big one? Don't tell me you people have forgotten World War II! Why it practically jump-started cartoon animation!" Roger exclaimed.

"Oh, THAT big one!" said Riker, turning around in his chair and calling over to the opposite table "Hey boys, we won!"

The navy and army Toon gasped and looked at each with huge smiles. They started whooping and hollering, suddenly they had noise-makers and streamers to throw around. "Hey everybody! It's V-Day! Drinks on the house!" shouted the army man to the polite, if confused, applause of the Enterprise crew. The Toons were appropriately enthusiastic and ran onto the ceiling to start skulling their drinks.

The army Toon looked around and said: "Gee, I wish there as a blonde nearby!" For lack of another, he grabbed the navy Toon and uninhibited, kissed him square on the mouth. Their lips popped free from each other and the Navy toon said "Gee, I didn't know ya cared!" batting his eyelashes.

The revelry was cut through by Guinan shouting "Sorry kid, no minors unaccompanied by an adult." The Toon was a little wooden puppet with a feather in his cap.

"I'm not a miner, I'm a real boy." he said in an unmistakable child's voice, his nose magically growing an inch. "See that you don't horn in on our claim." said a grumpy looking dwarf with a pickaxe passing by.

"Ah, but excuse me my good woman" came the oily, well-mannered, voice of a tall anthropomorphic Toon fox in spats, a blue cape and a battered top hat. "But the lad is under my care and I shall protect him from all temptation in your fine establishment. Your concern is touching, really!" the fox continued as he took the boy under his wing and lead him away from prying eyes and over to a private corner of the bar.

"Gentleman, I return with good news! This enterprising young lad has received his allowance and would love to ante up!"

"But I don't know how to play!" said the puppet innocently

"Oh, you'll pick up the game quick as a flash, what could be simpler! So what do you say, boys?" said the fox winningly to the table of Toon dogs playing poker.

"Beat it, kid," the droopy dog said monotonously to the puppet "This games for dogs. Good little boys stay in school."

"Oh my gosh, you're right! Jiminy! Gepetto!" cried the puppet running off.

The droopy dog then grabbed the fox by his collar and said as flatly as always "Shaking kids down for pocket money, Honest John?"

"You don't understand! Nobody in this blasted century carries pocket change!"

"Well, you better find some or else you'll end up like Bambi's mom, capiche?"

"Yes, yes! I'll get you your money! No trouble, no trouble at all!" cried the fox pulling himself free and hurrying away.

"Gotta teach them who's boss or they'll never learn." The droopy dog said to nobody in particular. He returned to his game and said "I call. I see right through that poker face, Sam" to the sheepdog who's red hair hung completely in front of his eyes.

Guinan called out from the bar "I've got a White Russian for a Herman." A white Toon imp appeared on the bar and danced a furious squat dance. "And what are you supposed to be?" asked Guinan, setting herself up. "A Gremlin from the Kremlin!" he replied with a thick Russian accent. "Oh, go on!" said Guinan swatting the corny character away. "I've got a drink here for Herman!" she called again. A baby and a mouse walked up to the bar.

"Was that Herman the mouse?" the mouse asked politely.

"Sorry, Baby Herman."

"My mistake!" replied the mouse, withdrawing.

"Thanks, Toots!" cried the baby struggling to climb up the barstool. Guinan took the drink out of reach and said: "I'm gonna need to see some ID, baby."

The famously shy Lieutenant Barclay was getting along famously with a porky pink pig. "You mean y-your stutter made you f-f-famous?" he sputtered hopelessly.

"D-de-d--definitel-def-definite- Oh sure! People knew me from Washington to Missi-si-sisip-miss-missip- from here to eternity" the pig said catching up with himself.

"Really?" said Barclay, angling to steer the conversation "And what about... w-w-w-women?"

Riker was observing the conversation from their table. "You know some officers might object to a pig not wearing pants. It's not exactly formal attire." he joked. "Call it artistic license." rejoined Troi "It's not like he has anything to hide anyway." The table laughed and didn't notice that the dog from before was sniffing around and hopping excitedly at Lieutenant La Forge's feet.

"Hey! Hey, uuh, which way did he go Geordi, huh? Which way did he go?"

"Will you quit asking me that!"

Guinan called out to their table "Hey Crusher, your drinks up!" A towering muscular Toon in wrestling trunks looked up, shrugged and went back to reading a racing form. While Guinan was busy with orders, the Wolf snuck back into the party now dressed in striped prisoners pyjamas.

"Don't look now Deanna, your suitors come calling again" Riker teased looking toward the door. Troi was less than thrilled to spot the Wolf making a beeline for their table.

"Do you want us to get rid of him?" Geordi asked chivalrously.

"Thank you, Geordi but I think I can handle one persistent suitor." Deanna said confidently.

The Wolf rolled up to the table and was about to deliver his favourite antique pick-up line when Deanna spun around in her chair and greeted him warmly "Well, hello Mr Wolf! You're just the Toon I wanted to see." she said standing up and taking his hand. The Wolf was completely flummoxed and managed to untie his tongue enough to get out "I uh- I uh- I uh- I am?" as Troi lead him, arm-in-arm across the room. "Now I'm flattered by your advances Mr Wolf but I'm afraid I'm not interested." she explained all too politely. Before the Wolf could interject she continued with honeyed words "However, I happen to know a woman who would just love to spend the evening in the company of an incorrigible young bachelor."

"You do?"

"Mm-hmm and here she is now," she said firmly sitting the Wolf down at a table "Mr Wolf, I'd like to introduce you to my mother!"

Lwaxanna Troi turned around having finished bending the ear of the crewman at the neighbouring table to meet the Wolf's gaze that instantly turned to shock. Lwaxana had her hair done up in one of her usual baroque styles and wore a flamboyant gown whose neck plunged further down than most women her age would dare. Gaudy earrings hung from her lobes like chandeliers and her arms were festooned with rings, bracelets and baubles. Her made-up face lit up at the sight of him. She looked him up and down hungrily.

"Mr Wolf? Mr Wolf... Where have I heard that name before. Isn't that the Klingons name?" she asked her daughter, not taking her eyes off the petrified wolf.

"No, mother, it isn't. This is Mr Wolf and I was just telling him how much you love getting to know new people from exotic places" Troi said suggestively.

"How well you know me, little one! Now tell me, Mr Wolf, you're one of those Toon people, isn't that right? That must be terribly interesting!" She said batting her eyes at the Wolf who swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Oh, how perfectly rude of me! We haven't been introduced yet!" Lwaxana declared moving her seat to the same corner as the Wolf "I am Lwaxana Troi, daughter of the Fifth House, holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed. The pleasures all mine," she said leaning over to whisper in his ear seductively "but it doesn't have to be..."

At this liberty, the Wolf leapt in the air and turned several shades of red, yellow and purple before breaking out in polka dots. His eyes burst like overblown lamps and his tongue lolled back and forth like a yo-yo. He crashed to the ground and ran screaming out of the bar, leaving a trademark silhouette in the door. "Hey!" Guinan shouted but the Wolf was long gone. "Oh, I like a man who plays hard to get," Lwaxana said, hurriedly finishing her drink, hiking up her gown and making for the door before calling back to her daughter "Don't wait up, little one!" and off she went on her merry chase.

Meanwhile, in Data's quarters, Security chief Worf was getting a crash course in cartoon physics.

"Notice how the Coyote has run clear of the cliff's edge yet remains suspended in mid-air" Data spoke seated at his desk. Worf stood behind him, arms folded, struggling to understand the logic of the cartoon scene playing on Data's viewscreen.

The coyote could sense something was wrong. He felt around for solid ground beneath his feet. Finding none, he risked a downward glance and plummeted out of frame. In an aerial-view shot, he disappeared from view, falling to the desert floor followed by a small puff of smoke on impact. Here the cartoon was paused and Data turned to elucidate.

"The moment he looks down, he is doomed to fall." Worf considered this a moment and replied in muted frustration "Why?"

"Let us take another example," said Data turning back to the screen and queuing up another cartoon which he narrated along with. "Here the Coyote is seen painting a train tunnel to trick his prey, the Roadrunner, into running into the face of the mountain at full speed. Yet when the Roadrunner approaches..." The Roadrunner gives his signature 'meep meep' and comes tearing up the road and straight through the tunnel. "Impossible!" Worf declared.

"For us, yes, but Toons exist in an elastic reality, what filmmaker and entrepreneur Walt Disney referred to as the 'plausible impossible' which allows for absurdity such as the Roadrunner running through a painted tunnel."

"The Roadrunner cheats death by changing reality! He is as dishonourable and powerful as the Q." Worf said with contempt.

"Not quite. There are still limits to what Toons are capable of" Data elaborated "Animator Art Babbit summed up the phenomena thusly 'Animation follows the laws of physics—unless it is funnier otherwise.'"

"Then, in order to catch the duck-" Worf caught himself "The Toons, we have to be... funny?"

"We do not have to be amusing, Lieutenant. I believe that in order to successfully detain a Toon, the result of our capturing them must be funnier than their evading us."

"I do not understand" Worf replied bluntly. "Humour is not my area of expertise either Lieutenant but I believe I have successfully analysed the logic of this scene" Data continued the cartoon.

Bewildered by the Roadrunner zipping through his painted tunnel, the Coyote retests the experiment. He wound himself up, sprinted at the tunnel and smashed himself against its rock-hard surface. "In this instance," Data continued "the Roadrunners entrance into the painted tunnel was funny because it was not expected. The Coyotes failure even more so, because there is no apparent reason it should not also have worked for him."

"Then we must catch our prey off-guard, surprise them with the unexpected?" Worf said half-asking, uncertain. "I believe you are beginning to understand, Lieutenant" Data affirmed.

Back in Ten Forward, the party was still going, though the lively atmosphere had retired into more a subdued one. Many of the crew and the Toons had gone to bed, some even together. At one table, the focus of some excitement, an arm-wrestling contest was in the midst of a heated battle. The contenders were both Toon humanoids, together they were a study in contrasts. The reigning champ was a black and white man with an impressive chin and even more impressive forearms tattooed with anchors, his clothing looked like some kind of sailors outfit. One eye was squinted and he spoke out the side of his mouth that wasn't busy smoking a corncob pipe.

"Come on Super-duper-man, is that all ya gots?" his voice was rough and sounded high-pitched and low-pitched at the same time.

His opponent he had a perfectly masculine profile with conservatively short hair, neatly combed to one side. Though his anatomy was more human than the sailor man, his attire was far more outrageous. He wore bright red shorts over his blue tights with a red cape flowing down his back. His suit had a bright red 'S' symbol inside a diamond shape emblazoned on his chest. 

The caped character clenched his square chin in concentration, evidently straining to match his opponent. The sailor man yawned and with his spare hand, pulled out a tin of loose tobacco. With a squeeze of his powerful arms, tobacco arced through the air and into his pipe. His mouth didn't move as he mumbled under his breath "AhTheManOfSteelMusn'tHaveHadHisIronToday."

Their arms quivered in furious competition but the balance of power was tipped in the sailor's favour, the superman straining to force his opponent's hand. The sailor searched his pockets and patted himself down but couldn't find what he was searching for. He looked around and spotted his book of matches on the table next to him. Not wishing to waste any more time, he simply slapped the superman's arm to the table who's thin eyes went so wide with astonishment, you could see a little white in them.

The crowd broke into cheers of elation and disappointment, one could be forgiven for thinking there was a little side action happening. The sailor lit his pipe and puffed contentedly. He turned to the superman, still trying to figure out how he could have been beaten and extended a hand.

"No hard feelin's Supes, put her there!"

"Sure, no hard feelings." said the superman halfheartedly.

The sailor man gripped his hand and shook vigorously. The superman winced and pulled his hand free as soon as the sailor man let go. The sailor had a mean grip! He shook his hand in pain and frustration as he wandered over to the bar looking forlorn. Taking a seat to ponder his defeat, a mouse in yellow tights, with matching red cape flew through the air and patted him on the shoulder. "I've been there, my friend. Barkeep! Something for Superman to drown his sorrows!" he spoke-sung in an operatic voice.

As Semolians traded hands and the crowd gathered around the reigning champ, a loud ornery voice broke through the clamour

"This is a doggone sham! Ain't no two-bit, two-tone, Toon can beat Yosemite Sam! Outta my way!" hollered the diminutive cowboy in a 20-gallon hat, his face barely visible behind his enormous red moustache and handlebar eyebrows. He propped himself up on the stool opposite the sailor and barked "Let's see what you got, ya lopsided, chrome-domed, octergenarian!"

The sailor man mumbled as he rolled up his sleeves "SoTheLittlePipSqueakWantsItPersonalHuh? I'llTeachHimWho'sAnOctogarangutan." With his speaking voice, he replied: "You're on, shorty!"

"Ooooh! I'll show you short, ya pipe-smokin', side-windin', cheese-eatin'-"

"Get ON With It!" cried the crowd. Startled, the two Toons took their positions and locked arms. At first, they seemed evenly matched but when the sailor man casually rested his head on his free arm like schoolchild trying to stay awake in class, the indignation fired the cowboys resolve and he pushed and pushed until the sailor's arm was nearly touching the table! The cowboy cackled like a melodramatic villain.

"Wow!" exclaimed the sailor man realising his concentration had slipped. He reached into his pocket and produced, of all things, a can of spinach. He squeezed the can and sent the wet green substance flying into his mouth. He made a meal of chewing and swallowing. The cowboy was unsure of what was happening. Heroic music played as the sailor mans arms bulged and images of battleships, tanks, cannons, steel mills and other assorted images of 20th-century industry appeared in his swollen biceps. The cowboy was so agog at the imagery he hardly had time to resist when the sailor man threw his arm down so hard it broke the table in two and sent Sam crashing to the floor.

The crowd erupted in applause for their champion. They hoisted the sailor man upon their shoulders and shouted "Three cheers for Popeye!"

The cowboy sat up dizzily, horseshoes orbiting his head. He shook off the injury and gritted his teeth at the sound of his enemies praises being sung. "That tears it!" he roared over the commotion, pulling his ten-shooters from their holsters and firing them in the air. The room fell silent and the hangers-on dropped the sailor to the floor as the cowboy marched toward him with a wide-gait, forcing him back toward the far wall.

"You're a no-good cheater, ya pill-poppin' galloot! I saw you plain as day usin' performance enhancers to make a monkey outta me! Now draw!" His back against the wall, the sailor pulled a notepad from behind his back and sketched a gun which he offered to the cowboy "Like, so?"

"Oooooh!" Sam seethed "You know what I meant, ya varmint!" firing his guns wildly at Popeyes feet who scrambled to avoid being shot, breaking momentarily into a tap-dance routine before jumping back to dodging bullets.

"Security to Lieutenant Worf, we need backup in Ten Forward, a Toon has open-fired" called one of the security crew, through her comm badge.

"Acknowledged, on my way" came Worf's reply.

"Hey, yellow-britches! Hand over that there badge, I'm the new sheriff in town!" shouted Sam with his gun pressed to the security staff's back. The officer obliged, handed over his comm-badge and put his hands in the air. Having affixed the badge to his chest Sam declared "Now ain't that a purdy little tin-star! Now, everybody dance!"

The Toons all grabbed partners, whoever was closest, and began an elegant ballroom waltz, until Sam fired a shot in the air.

"Not like that! Somethin' more southern-like!"

Minutes later, Worf and Data arrived in Ten-Forward phasers drawn and were baffled to find everyone clapping and stamping their feet under duress.

"What are they doing?" Worf asked out loud.

"I believe it is the Electric Slide" Data noted.

Gunshots and cackling laughter came from Sam who shouted instructions.

"Grab your partner, hold 'em tight..
Womp your partner with all your might...
Hit 'em in the chin, hit 'em in the head...
Hit 'em again, the critter ain't dead...
womp 'em low, womp 'em high...
Stick your finger in his eye...
Pretty little rhythm pretty little sound...
Bang your heads against the ground..."

Everybody in the place obeyed the dance instructions, the Toons with more gusto than their human counterparts. Sam laughed uproariously, firing his guns in the air and hopping up and down on a barstool as his hostages debased themselves.

"Everyone, you may cease square dancing" Data announced calmly. Another gunshot pierced the air.

"I'm leadin' this here ho-down and I say no one stops a-dancin'" Sam shouted at the crowd, hopping off his stool and marching toward the android, pistols at the ready. Data aimed his phaser and explained patiently "Sir, I should warn you that your pistol cannot match the firepower of my phaser."

"Oh yeah?" Sam sneered, putting his guns behind his back and whipping out two comically oversized replacements "How 'bout now?" Data began to explain "A larger weapon does not amount to a greater threat. In fact, the longer barrel will slow the bullet-"

Before he could finish his thought, Sam fired and a pair of Toon bullets sent Data across the room, crashing into the opposite wall and crumpling to the floor. The sight of Data, a nearly indestructible android, knocked prone to the floor, was all the provocation Worf needed to open-fire on the outlaw who let out a comical "Yee-Ouch!" as the phaser beam knocked him to the floor, his skin and clothing ashened.

Before Worf could tell the civilians to go about their business, he was shocked to see Sam standing up and wiping his face clean as if it were only covered in greasepaint. "Is that all you got, ya no-good pointy-headed spaceman!" He taunted, shaking himself like a dog and coming out as good as new. Worf looked from his foe back to his phaser, set well above stun and yet the Toon simply brushed it off. He set the phaser to its maximum setting and took aim when he felt Data's firm hand on his shoulder.

"Please Lieutenant, remember what we discussed," said Data, a few hairs out of place but evidently not critically injured "Force has proven an ineffective method. Watch carefully." he said striding confidently over to the little hothead.

"You are under arrest for disturbing the peace. I am afraid I must escort you to the brig" Data said standing over the diminutive character, unphased by the pistols pointed at him.

"Jes' you try it, tin man! I ain't goin' nowhere!" Sam countered.

"Oh, yes you are." said Data.

"Aww, no I'm not!" said the cowboy.

"Oh, yes you are." said Data.

"Aww, no I'm not!" said Sam.

"Oh, no you are not." Data said.

"Aww, yes I am!" Sam said.

"Oh, no you are not." Data said.

"I am too and that's final or my name ain't Yosemite Sam!" he said handing over his guns and placing manacles on himself before realising what had happened. "Aww, hornytoads." Sam said forlornly.

Data approached a stunned Worf, Sam following behind him muttering to himself.  "I will escort Sam to the brig if you could file a report on the incident".

"Of course." Worf said offhand. Data nodded and proceeded to march Sam out when Worf called after him "I still do not understand how such simple wordplay could have disarmed this terrorist." Data stopped, considered his prisoner before explaining "The prisoner being duped into arresting himself was humiliating and robbed him of his dignity"

"Hey!" Sam shouted.

Data continued "I would be happy to continue discussing cartoon theory with you, once the prisoner has been dealt with properly."

Worf nodded back and Data left Ten Forward with Yosemite Sam in tow.

The crew and Toons found themselves places to sit down, evidently worn out from the dancing. Some simply left for their quarters. This was as good a time as any to call it a night, except for one couple who kept dancing energetically. "You may stop dancing now." Worf called to them. "Are you kidding? I met the girl of my dreams! I could dance all night!" a grinning young ensign called back. He spun his partner around which was plain to see was the grey rabbit in a Southern Belle costume. "Oh, you mad impetuous boy, you!" the rabbit cooed in a Kansas clip, jumping into the ensigns' arms who carried his beau out of the bar in a rush of passion.

Worf approached Guinan who was now busying herself handing out water to those who looked most exhausted. "Guinan, what happened here?" Worf said, forgoing pleasantries.

"Same old story, a cartoon cowboy arm-wrestles a chain-smoking sailor, loses the match and his temper, makes everybody square dance at gunpoint." Guinan rattled off dryly. "Where is this sailor now?" Worf asked, unphased. "Right over there, with his girlfriend," Guinan said pointing to his table where he was being covered in smooches by a lanky Toon woman.

"Oh my dear, sweet Popeye! How do these things happen!" the woman cried between kisses in a shaky voice.

"Ag-gug-gug-gug!" the sailor laughed quite unlike anyone else "It's alright now, Olive. The palooka's headed for the hoosegow!"

"Pardon me," Worf said unsure what to make of the odd couple "I'd like to ask you a few questions about the cowboy."

"My Popeye didn't do a thing wrong, can't you see he's had a terrible shock, why don't you leave him alone?" the woman crowed wagging her finger at Worf.

"S'alright Olive he's a Police Orrificer and Policemen likes to help people" the sailor explained with rustic good humour. His girlfriend nodded at her beau's wisdom and departed but not before sticking her nose in the air at Worf and striding away with her enormous flat feet.

"Could you tell me what happened?" Worf asked patiently. "It's like this, chief; I was arm-wreslink any bum what's wanted to face me and the little redheaded stepson stepped up to try his luck. When I walloped him fair and square, he gets all burned up and starts firin' his peashooter! Wotta panic" the sailor explained in his own colourful vernacular.

"Being defeated in arm-wrestling precipitated his rampage?"

"I don'ts know nothin's about no precipitation! All's I know is, I yam still the arm-wrestling champion of this establishment."

"You?" Worf said looking the bald, wrinkled, sailor up and down "You defeated every man in this bar?" he asked disbelievingly.

"If's ya don't believe me, ask the other characters in this joint! They'll tell ya the same what I tells ya jes' now" the sailor said confidently relighting his pipe.

Worf took statements from the other characters in the bar. "It's true, he's the toughest Toon there is!" said the flying mouse. "Yes, he beat me but only because there's no sunlight in this region of space!" the superman qualified. "I was the undefeated champion of the woild... until him!" snarled a barechested Toon in wrestling trunks that read 'The Crusher'. "I don't wanna talk about, see?" shouted an overgrown Toon cat with a peg-leg.

Finally, Worf spoke with a black-and-white Toon who looked and dressed similar to the sailor, only with a barrel chest, scratchy dark beard and two squinty eyes. "He's a cheat, that's what! The only reason he beat me was because he's a cheat!" he declared in a baritone shout.

Worf returned to the sailor who was by now puffing away with his feet up on the table. "I have been told you did defeat your challengers but there have been accusations that you did so, dishonourably."

"Dis'honrable?" the sailor repeated "Why that's an insulk! Popeye the Sailor is as honest as the day is wide! The only advantage I have is clean livin'"

"Is that so?" Worf said taking a seat and putting his arm into position "Then perhaps you would like to prove your word and your strength?"

"Ag-gug-gug!" the sailor chortled, sitting up and taking Worf's hand.

"I should warn you, I have been victorious in many contests of strength on Q'on'os. Homeworld to the Klingons, fiercest warriors in the galaxy" Worf boasted.

"And I walloped every Goon in Goonland. Big deal! Whenever you're ready, Dogface!" the sailor goaded. Worf's temper flared "On the count of three then; one... two... three-"

The sailor immediately gained the upper hand, slapped it to the table and was back to reclining and puffing his pipe.

Worf picked up his hand and flexed his fingers to make sure he wasn't injured. There was no getting around it, the sailor had simply overpowered him. Worf blurted out "How? How is this possible?"

"Ya wants to know me secret?" the sailor teased. Worf nodded seriously. "C'mere and I'll tells ya" Popeye beckoned. Worf leaned over the table and the sailor whispered into one ear, cupping his mouth with his hand. Worf wasn't sure he had heard him correctly and looked in confusion at the sailor who simply winked. Worf silently drew himself up, thanked the sailor for his statement and walked calmly over the bar where Guinan was still replicating drinks.

"Guinan, one Spinach and Prune smoothie, please".

The party was all but dried up, except for Roger who was slurring his way through "How dry I am! How dry I am!" he paused to belch and excuse himself "How does the rest of that go? Oh yeah! How dry-y-y I a-a-am!" he sang atonally to the general annoyance of everyone. "You will excuse my husband! A little too much Synthehol!" Jessica called out to the rest of the bar. "I'm afraid Roger's never drunk this much before, usually one drink and he's out like a light" she offered as explanation ot the senior staff who were getting ready to retire for the night.

"Do you need any help with him?" Beverly asked.

"Oh no, I'll get him to bed and he'll sleep it off tomorrow" Jessica replied, doting on the pickled hare.

"OK but feel free to ask any of the crew if you need anything" Geordi added.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, I will Goodnight." Jessica said helping to keep her husband upright.

Once the senior staff had bid Jessica goodnight, thanked Guinan for the party and departed for their quarters Jessica dropped all pretence and dragged her husband as far as the bar before stopping to catch her breath

"I don't know how I'm going to get him home like this, he barely made it to the bar." Jessica said to no one in particular, quite put out by her husband who lay in a dazed puddle on the floor.

"Roger" she called, hoping to reach whatever semblance of consciousness remained of Roger "You are not drunk! There was no alcohol in your drink!"

"Then why do I *hic* feel so charming and talented, my three whirling dervishes?" Roger dribbled out, giggling.

Unprompted, Guinan placed a steaming mug on the bar. "Here, get this in him and he'll be back on his feet, as least as far as your quarters" Guinan smiled. Jessica picked up the mug and sniffed the black brew. It smelled like coffee or something like it. She looked back at Guinan who gave her another reassuring look that said 'it's not dip or anything'. Not wanting to carry her husband home over her shoulders, she slumped him over her knee and pumped one of his ears which opened his jaw mechanically and emptied the contents of the mug down his throat.

Unsure what to expect, Jessica thought she heard something like a drumbeat that seemed to be coming from Roger. She pressed one ear to his chest and his heart was pounding out a samba beat and his chest was beginning to pound with it. Rogers's eyes burst open and his pupils shrank to pinpoints. Jessica jumped back when he sat bolt upright, arms outstretched and his head snapped in her direction and she saw his teeth were clenched so hard they were cracking. A vibration started at his feet and worked it's way up his body until his ears were ringing like tuning forks. He couldn't contain himself any longer, a high-pitched scream rose up from within him and his feet started running furiously in place before pulling the rest of him along with them as he ran screaming around and around the walls in huge laps. Jessica could barely keep sight of her husband as he raced around until at last he sputtered and smoked like a motor failing and fell back to the floor, landing flat on his back only to bounce back up on his feet looking brand new again.

"Say, that's a strong cuppa joe! What did you say you call it, Guinan?" Roger asked, instantaneously sober.

"Raktajino, sort of like a Klingon coffee" Guinan replied casually, cleaning a glass.

"Well, it was just the pick-me-up I needed! How about a top-off?" Roger said holding out his mug for a refill.

"How about a cut-off" Guinan cut back "Raktajino's strong stuff, you don't want to drink more than one in the same week." she said seriously.

"Ah well, I'm wide awake now! Come on carrot-cake, the night is young!" Roger declared, full of beans and ready to greet the day.

Aboard the bridge of the Enterprise, operations were proceeding as normal when Commander Riker stepped out of the turbolift and was surprised to find Picard back in the Captain's chair. "Captain..." Riker called, strolling down the carpeted ramp. Picard who had been resting his head on one hand sat up to say "Ah, good morning, number one. How was the party?"

"A lot of laughs. I thought you were catching up on sleep?"

"Hm. I tried but had the same trouble you've been having, so I followed your example."

"Right." Riker said not totally convinced "Well, I was just stopping by to make sure the night crew were managing without me"

"Given that our active orders are to sit still and entertain our guests, I'd say between us we've got them covered" Picard added wryly.

"You looked pretty drowsy in the chair, you want me to take over?"

"Thank you but I think I'll round out the shift before trying my luck again"

"You're sure, sir?"

"You've just been to a Toon party, I'm sure you need it more than I do." Riker couldn't help but stifle a yawn when reminded how long he'd been up for.

"Now that you mention it, it is past my bedtime. Goodnight Captain"

"Goodnight Commander" Picard dismissed.

Riker headed back the way he came when the Roger and Jessica Rabbit appeared in the turbolift. "Hiya Riker! We were in the neighbourhood and wondered if it could see the Bridge?" Roger said perkily.

"Well, I don't know, Rog" said Riker, humouring him "You'd have to ask the Captain." he said turning to Picard, smiling.

"What do you say, Cap'n?" Roger beamed.

"Oh please, Captain, it would mean so much to Roger" Jessica appealed.

Picard wasn't pleased by the intrusion but his diplomatic duty compelled him to reply "Of course, welcome aboard". Roger's eyes gleaned with excitement and he turned and called loudly as if shouting to someone down the block "Hey fellas, the Capn' says it's alright!" To Picard's horror, a stampede of Toons roared onto the bridge, ogling, sniffing and touching everything in sight. Chaos on the bridge.

"Roger!" Picard shouted at the top of his voice but the only thing Picard could hear over the clamour of cartoon voices was a chipper voice in his ear. "Say, you've got a nice head on your shoulders! You wouldn't happen to need a conscience, would you?" Picard felt a tickle in his ear as a little character leaned inside for a look around, Picard briskly lifted the character out where he could see him. The Toon appeared to be a friendly green insect dressed smartly in a tiny suit complete with spats, collar and an ascot. Picard was holding him the tails of his waistcoat.

"Thank you but I have a conscience of my own" Picard replied brusquely "And I don't appreciate people picking my mind without permission."

"Beggin' your Captain's pardon!" said the character lifting his top hat in apology before leaping out of Picard's grip, opening his miniature umbrella and floating gently to the floor. "Just remember, temperament and manners is what separates us from the animals!" he called in a chiding tone. "Believe me," Picard said, irritated "I'd like nothing more right now than to be separated from the animals!" as a flock of animated sheep brushed past him.

He felt a tug at his shirt and made eye contact with the little mouse in red shorts. "Uh, excuse me, Mr Valiant," the mouse said half giggling "Are we out past Pluto, sir?" A yellow Toon dog barked excitedly, jumping up and licking Picard's cheek with his wet tongue, annoying him further. He wiped his face and informed the mouse, just barely maintaining his composure "That's Captain if you please."

"Oh, uh, sorry Captain Valiant." said the mouse sincerely.

"Help, he's got a gun!" called a crewman, Picard whipped around to see a Toon pointing a bright red pistol at a member of his crew. Picard tapped his comms badge and spoke urgently "Security, we have a Toon with an offensive weapon on the bridge."

"On our way, sir" came Data's steady voice.

Picard didn't take his eyes off the Toon who's ant-like face was nothing more than a pair of staring white eyes inside a green Roman helmet. He wore a fanned-green skirt around his waist and his oversized shoes appeared to be sneakers. He was diminutive even for a Toon but held his pistol which read 'Acme Disintegrating Ray' aimed directly at Ensign Lavelle who had his hands in the air. "Please, I must insist you lower your weapon and surrender." Picard spoke authoritatively but calmly, not to provoke the Toon.

"Oh, I simply can't do that" the Toon replied in a soft nasal voice "you see, it is you who must surrender to me or I shall have to use force."

"Let's be reasonable about this, what is it that you want?"

"I want control of your Starship, Captain, I simply must return to the homeworld."

"Homeworld?"

"Yes, the planet Mars, you know." Picard was reeling from the idea that this character believed himself to be a native of a lifeless planet in Earth's solar system when Lt. Commander Data arrived with Worf and security personnel. All had their phasers drawn. "Sir, I must ask you to lower your weapon, you are outnumbered" Data-informed him plainly.

"I'm afraid a Martian Centurion may never surrender to an enemy." the martian explained in a voice that seemed genuinely apologetic "Now you must return this ship to Martian space immediately" Not taking his aim off Lavelle.

"May I ask why you wish to take the Enterprise to Mars?" Data queried.

"I'm going to blow up the Earth." the martian said dispassionately.

"Blow up the Earth??" Picard repeated in horror. The crazy black duck, leapt into the Captain's chair in a green shirt and swimming cap with a little antenna and declared "This looks like a job for Duck Dodgers in the 24th and a half-century!" leaping into the air with his finger pointed heroically skyward. "This is the 24th and a half-century!" Picard shouted at the duck interrupting the crisis. The duck landed and sulked away. "Spoilsport, way to ruin the gag."

Worf whispered to Data "Permission to open fire, Commander."

"Hold, Lieutenant," said Data, not realising Worf meant to fire on the duck. Turning his attention to the martian Data asked: "Why would you wish to blow up the Earth?"

"Oh, that's simple; it obstructs my view of Venus." Nobody knew how to respond to such an inane justification for genocide, except Data. "Sir, that is inaccurate. According to my calculations, the occultation of Venus by Earth from Mars will not occur for several millennia."

"But it does, it does!" the martian insisted peevishly "Oh, you are making me very angry!" the character seethed in his reedy voice, taking aim at Lavelle with both hands, gloved fingers at the ready.

"Permission to open fire, now Commander!" Worf raged. Unphased, Data replied "Denied, Lieutenant. Ensign Lavelle, plug the gun with your finger, please."

"What??" Lavelle replied, terrified. "Quickly Ensign, place your finger inside the barrel of the ray gun." Lavelle didn't look convinced but followed Data's orders and stuck his finger in the raygun a hair-splitting second before the martian pulled the trigger. The Acme Disintegration Ray swelled up and disintegrated into atoms. "Oh, peachy," said the martian putting his hands on his hips "The silly thing backfired!" With that, the security team swooped in and arrested the martian. Escorting him out, Worf stopped to address his sworn enemy "I will return for you, duck"

Picard was reeling from the hostage situation aboard his bridge, an unprecedented disaster when Roger's voice cut through the silence. "Gee, that was a close one" Suddenly excited again he called out "Say, how do you steer this flying saucer? Let's take her out for a real spin!" Picard turned to see Roger bouncing in the Captain's chair.

"Get out of that chair!" Picard shouted his patience at his limits.

"Aw, Eddie, you're such a kidder!"  Roger laughed back. Picard stormed up to him, grabbed him by his ears and pulled him out his chair. "Hey, watch it, Eddie, that smarts!" the rabbit protested.

Picard stood at his full height and shouted at the small rabbit "I am NOT Eddie Valiant, I am Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise and you, Roger Rabbit, and the rest of you Toons have been nothing but a burden and a threat to my crew. Your presence here makes a mockery of our mission. You neither civilised and I'm not very much convinced you are living, breathing, intelligent beings. You are inane facsimiles of a trivial form of entertainment for children that nobody but obscure historians care to remember. You belong in a textbook, not on my ship."

Picard saw Roger cowering. He'd shrunk in on himself, looking smaller than ever. His ears hung low and his eyes were wide with shock at the verbal assault but Picard was beyond pity for the moment. "Mr Data, escort these Toons off my bridge and back to their quarters," he ordered coldly. "Yes sir." Data said. The Toons began quietly slinking toward the turbolift.

Jessica placed a hand on Roger's shoulder and said quietly "Come on Roger, it's time we were going." Roger said in a voice fill of self-sorrow "Gee, I'm sorry Cap'n. We'll get out of your hair." and took his wife's hand and headed forlornly to the turbolift. Until he spun around and blurted out sheepishly "Oh and I didn't mean nothin' by that hair comment! You have a lovely, masculine, dome-like-"

"OUT!" Picard shouted. The Toons assembled in the turbolift followed by Data and the security team. The doors sealed shut on them looking terribly hurt. The night crew awkwardly returned to work as Picard sighed and realised he'd made a fine mess of the whole situation.

Chapter Text

[Counsellor's Log: I've made the best of our unusual situation by offering counselling for Toons who were having trouble adjusting to life aboard the Enterprise or have been displaying antisocial behaviours. I hadn't anticipated how many Toons were in need of psychological help! I've seen a Dwarf in need of anger management, a baby with severe body dysmorphia and a Coyote who was a textbook case of Dunning Kruger syndrome. My next patient tells me he is suffering from an eating disorder]

"For so long, my whole life was catching that dumb little bird" the cat sputtered and sprayed as he spoke. There was an abnormal number of Toons with impediments in dire need of speech therapy. None of them seemed to know what Troi meant. "But in this technological age of plenty, I just don't know who I am anymore!" the cat continued pathetically. "It's unhealthy to base your whole identity around a relationship, especially such an antagonistic one as you and Tweety bird have," Troi said in her reassuring Counsellors tone. "Who is Sylvester when he's not hungry?" The cat stared at the ceiling, shaken to his core. "I- I don't know..."

"That's what we're going to discover together," said Counsellor Troi leaning forward to take the hand of the cat-in-crisis. She gently led him to the door and continued "I'd like to see you the same time tomorrow Sylvester. We've made progress but there's still a long way to go"

"Thanks Doc!"

"Would you send in the next patient on your way out, please?"

The door opened automatically as the cat strolled out shouting obnoxiously "Hey bub, your numbers up!"

Troi made a few notes about the cat's issues when the door chimed. "Come in" she called signalling the door open.

Roger burst into her office bawling his eyes out, tears arcing from eyes like a hydroponics system. He wailed "He hates me, Deanna! He hates me-e-e!" and threw himself face-first onto the couch and sobbed uncontrollably. "Roger!" Troi exclaimed in alarm, she knelt down by the couch and rubbed the hysterical Toons soft furry back. "Nobody hates you, Roger." she said sympathetically. Roger's reply was muffled by his face being buried against the couch. "I'm sorry, Roger, I can't hear you." He lifted his face up long enough to blubber "He does hate me! He told me so! Right to my face!" before dropping his face back into the wet, tear-soaked patch on the couch. "Who? Who told so?" Another muffled reply. "Roger, this isn't going to work unless we can talk to each other. Please, sit with me" said Troi soothingly, taking a seat on the couch next to Roger. Roger sat up, his heaving chest barely containing his wracked sobs.

"Now who said that they hate you?"

"The c-c-c-... the c-c-c-, the c-c-c-c...." Roger stuttered helplessly.

"The... captain?" Troi ventured.

"YES!" Roger wailed, flopping over her lap in the fetal position.

"Roger, that's ridiculous. The captain doesn't hate you, you practically spent all night together! Why would he say such a thing?"

"Because it's true! He hates me, he hates all us Toons!"

"Now I find that hard to believe. Roger, I want you to think very carefully: did he actually say the words 'I hate you. " Roger opened his wet eyes and his heavy breathing slowed as he recalled. "Well... I guess, he didn't say it in those words exactly..." Roger said considering before becoming upset again "But he meant it! You should have heard the way he shouted at me!"

"I understand," Troi said stroking his head "It still felt like he hates you and that can hurt just as much"

"Mmm-hmm," Roger said, "And you know what he did?"

"What?"

"He yanked my ears!"

"No!"

"He did, he yanked 'em good! And after he told me he wouldn't ever do that again!"

"It can be a terrible violation of trust when someone goes back on their word and laying hands on someone in anger is never acceptable, is it?"

"Uh-uh." Roger agreed.

"You must have felt frightened to have someone you trusted do that to you."

"It was the surprise of it that scared me more than anything! One minute we're bosom buddies and the next he's shoutin' me down in front of everybody!"

"It wasn't right of him to do that," Troi assured Roger. "Can you think of any reason why he might have yelled at you?"

"Because he-"

"Let's assume he doesn't hate you" Troi interjected. The rabbit concentrated and scratched his carrot-top hair with one of his ears. "I don't know! We were just havin' a few laughs together on the bridge! Bouncin' in the captain's chair, pushin' buttons, talking Marvin out of disintegrating someone" Roger listed off casually.

"Roger, that sounds like mayhem"

"You think so?"

"Yes! And I can tell you this about the Captain, the only thing he really hates is disorder on his bridge."

"Really?"

"Yes, the bridge is somewhere the Captain needs to be in control. The crew relies on him to always know what to do and keep them safe. How can they trust him to do that if those around him don't listen?"

"Gee, I never thought of it like that," said Roger pensively before switching into defensiveness "but he still shouldn't have yelled at me!"

"Or yanked your ears. You're absolutely right, that was wrong of him" Roger went quiet for one of those rare moments. Troi gave him space to absorb that validation before adding "Roger," His eyes met hers. "It's important to remember that the only person we're in control of is ourselves. It's easy to decide someone hates you, it's much more challenging to ask ourselves what we may have done wrong"

"Like... inviting all my friends onto the bridge?" Troi smiled. Roger was beginning to understand. She handed Roger a box of tissues. "I guess I really put my foot in it, huh?" Roger said, laughter returning to his voice. After noisily blowing his noise he continued "But can I do now? Eddie's still furious with me!"

"Well, for starters you could use his proper name. He isn't Eddie Valiant, that was just a role he was playing. His name is-"

"John Luke Packard! Yeah! He said that when he was blowin' his stack! Do you think that's might also be a reason he might be steamed at me?"

"I think that's a very clear-minded observation, Roger"

"Oh boy, I know just what I gotta say to him!" Roger declared excitedly before leaping off the couch toward the door. "Roger!" Troi called after him, grabbing him by his red suspenders, sending him bouncing back onto the couch. He looked at her surprised.

"What'd you do that for? I was going to apologise to the Captain for making a mess on his bridge!"

"Roger, it's wonderful that you want to fix things between you but I would suggest giving him some space first. After an emotional explosion, people often remain in a reactive state of mind, he may not be ready to hear you out just yet"

"I hear you, doc, loud and clear! I'll give us both some time to clear our heads first!" Roger said happily.

"Good and please, feel free to come and see me again. I enjoy talking with you, Roger."

"Thanks, Deanna!" said Roger, embracing her in a warm hug and stepping to head out the door.

"One last thing, Roger" called Troi

"Yeah?" he asked from the doorway.

"Don't forget, you are owed an apology as well" she said firmly.

"Roger that!" he said, saluting with one ear. Deanna smiled and took down some notes on her PADD. There was nothing so satisfying to her as making a difference in peoples lives.

A moment later the door chime rang for her next patient. Evidently, there was a line out the door! "Come." Troi said. The doors slid open again to reveal the Wolf, cross-eyed with bandages on his head and burbling his lips with a finger in an offensive caricature of somone in need of mental help. "Computer, close door," called Troi unamused. "Next patient, please".

A little white ghost materialised through the wall and floated to the floor. "Hi, my names Casper!" he said in a child's voice. "Hello Casper" said Troi smiling, putting her PADD away. "I'm Deanna." He innocently asked, "Will you be my friend?"

"I'd certainly like to be." said Troi sitting back in her counsellor's chair. "You will! Oh boy!" cried Casper leaping into the air with excitement and floating down into the patient's chair. "Most people who see me run away screaming." The counsellors brow furrowed and she asked seriously "Is loneliness something you deal with often?"

Elsewhere aboard the Enterprise, much of the crew and the Toons were asleep, at last, worn out from the night's antics. One lonesome guard was tasked with turning around the sailor man's spindly girlfriend every time she tried to sleepwalk out of her quarters, arms outstretched, head lolled back, which she did roughly every minute or so.

Data was heading back to his room to visit his cat Spot when the Toon puppet turned a blind corner and ran straight into him. Data hardly jostled but the Toon fell back on his behind. "Are you hurt?" Data asked helping the boy up. "I'm alright." the puppet said innocently brushing himself off.

"You should know that running in the hallways is prohibited."

"I'm heading to school but Figaro keeps on following me!" the puppet offered by way of explanation pointing to a doorway where an animated tail was sticking out. "I see you, Figaro! You don't fool me! Come on out and show yourself!" he said mustering all the authority a puppet could. A black and white Toon kitten with bright yellow eyes sheepishly stepped out from the doorway. "I knew you were there all the time! Aren't you ashamed? Making me late for my first day of classes!" The kitten played coy, pointing a little paw at himself that said 'Who, me?"

"Yes, you! Now go on home! Go on, get!" the puppet chided sending the kitten tearfully slinking back the way they'd come. "Figaro doesn't like bein' left alone while I'm at school" the puppet explained to Data, his voice full of sorrow for having been firm with his beloved pet.

"I have a cat of my own and understand how attached they can become. Perhaps Figaro would like to visit my quarters while you are at school. My cat Spot plays very well with others." Figaro pricked up his ears at the sound of this novel idea. "What do you say Figaro? You want to play with the nice man's cat?" the puppet called out. Figaro did a little jump for joy and scurried down the hallway, leaping into his Data's arms and purred in gratitude, rubbing himself on Data's uniform. "I think Figaro would like that very much!" the puppet giggled. "I am glad. Come, I will escort you to your classes. It would reflect badly on your school ethic to arrive late" said Data leading the way. "Gosh, yes! The Blue Fairy says I gotta be good if I want her to turn me into a real boy" the puppet said skipping along after him.

"A real boy?" Data enquired.

"Uh-huh. She says if I prove myself brave, truthful and unselfish, I can become a real boy!"

"Intriguing. I should like to meet this Blue Fairy."

Inside one of the Enterprises school's Miss Kyle was preparing to begin her first all-Toon class when Data arrived with the puppet. "Oh, good morning Data." she said in a cheery voice masking her stress at taking on so many new students. "Good morning, Miss Kyle. I have a new student here for his first day of school." Data explained. "Welcome," she said to the puppet who looked up at her, unsure "Please, find a seat. We're just about to begin."

The puppet looked nervously up to Data for guidance who recognised the anxiety on his face and said calmly "You must listen to Miss Kyle, she is a very capable teacher." The puppet played with his shirt, still visibly nervous. "If you wish, I will return when class is concluded. You may come to collect Figaro with me from my quarters and you can meet my cat, Spot." At this the puppets face lit up, his rosy cheeks grinning at the prospect. "Oh boy, I'd like that!" he declared. "Please, if everyone could take their seats" called Miss Kyle from the front of the class. He waved to Data as he hurried to take a seat near the front of the class. Data left with Figaro in his arm.

"First of all, I'd like to welcome you to school. My name is Miss Kyle, your teacher, and I'm looking forward to teaching you a lot of new things about our universe" she said to the general silence of the Toon children who simply stared at her. Moving right along she continued "First we'll take attendance. When I call your name, please raise your hand or say 'present'. Little Lulu!"

"Here!" called a little Toon girl with dotted eyes.

"Please, say 'present when your name is called" Miss Kyle reminded them gently. "Little Audrey!"

"Present!" called a little girl with blue eyes and a bow to match. She snidely stuck her tongue out at Little Audrey. Miss Kyle continued reading from the list

"Pipeye?" She called, struggling with pronunciation.

"Presenk" called a boy with a swollen head, cleft chin and a sailor hat in a smokers voice.

"Peepeye?" called an identical boy.

"Pupeye!"

"Presenk!" said the triplet.

"Poopeye!"

"Presenk, miss!" said the quadruplet.

"May I ask, are you boys related?" Miss Kyle asked pleasantly. The boys laughed "Ag-gug-gug-gug. Well, we didn't just walk off the street together!"

"Right... Uh, Louie!"

A duck in a green shirt and cap replied unintelligibly.

"Dewey?"

A similar response from a duck wearing blue.

"Huey?"

A red duck said the same.

Miss Kyle was beginning to fret at the idea of so many identical children in one class as she continued on her list. "Oh, do we have a second Huey with us?" she asked, beginning to sound exasperated. A gigantic yellow duck with a babies bonnet over his red mop of hair jumped up and down in his seat and shouted in a moronic voice "Duuuuh, I wanna be a wacecar dwiver!"

Lieutenant Worf passed Lt. Commander Data who wished him a good morning. Worf nodded in response and spared a glance at the Toon kitten he cradled in his arms. He dismissed it without a second thought as he had work to attend to and continued briskly until someone caught his eye.

A Toon man, short of stature and seemingly hairless crept down the intersecting hallway dressed in old-fashioned hunting regalia and an oversized brown hat that was twice his size. Worf recognised him from Data's presentation. It was the warrior. Worf approached him carefully, admiring his posture as he stalked down the hallway, brandishing a Toon shotgun with both hands.

"Sir" Worf said clearly. In an instant, the business end of the barrel was pointed in his face. "Fweeze or I'll bwow your head off!" the hunter declared with a wisp. "Your instincts are impressive," Worf said with a smile in his voice "I am Lieutenant Worf, Chief of Security aboard the Enterprise." The hunter lowered his gun and all at once sounded pitiful like he'd been caught with his hand the cookie jar. "Oh! Excuse me Mr. Worf I didn't weawise. I have a wicense for this gun you know... Hewe it is!" he said pulling an animated certificate out of his breast pocket. He read the name aloud "Elmer Fudd, that's me! Ah-huh-huh-huh" he chuckled childishly.

"Yes, I know who you are. You are a great hunter. Perhaps the greatest among of your people" Worf said with deep respect. "Gee, weawwy? Wow, thanks mister. I was just hunting this cwazy duck on account of I was told on good authowity that it's duck season and-"

"Duck?" Worf cut in.

"That's wight, a wittle bwack duck but don't be fooled, he's cwever as the dickens" Elmer rasped, clutching his gun.

"I too have tried and failed to catch the duck. He is... unpredictable." Worf's tone grew gravely serious as he intoned "Elmer, Son of Fudd. It would bring me great honour if I may accompany you on your hunt."

"Well, alwight but your gonna need a weapon if we're gonna cook that duck's goose."

"Come. I shall bring my Bat'leth". It is in my quarters" he said leading the way.

"What in bwue bwazes is a bat-weth?" said the hunter scratching his head and catching up.

The door chime rang in Captain Picard's quarters. Picard sighed and called wearily from his bed "Lights". The lights rose to their dim early-morning level as Picard reached for his dressing gown. "Come." he said fastening the drawstring. The door hissed open and Beverly Crusher strolled in casually as she did most mornings. "Beverly" the Captain spoke sluggishly "Don't tell me it's time for breakfast."

"I'm afraid it is, Jean Luc. Didn't you sleep well?"

"Didn't sleep at all."

"I can come back later"

"No, stay, please" Picard insisted, "I think I should carry on until I'm really feeling tired." Beverly took Picard's word and began replicating their usual favourites. Picard came over to help when Beverly put a cup of coffee in his hands. "It sounds like you've had a long night, I'll set the table." Relieved Picard took his coffee and sat down.

"I hope you don't mean you've been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for the past few hours." Beverly said ordering their croissants.

"No. I didn't feel tired so I took over Delta Shift to occupy myself. Thank you." he said, Beverly setting his croissant beside him.

"Should you have been working on so little sleep?" Beverly enquired, rounding out their meal with some fresh fruit.

"It's the night shift, what could go wrong..." Picard said, his voice trailing off.

"But something did." Beverly finished his sentence, sitting down to eat.

"Yes" Picard continued ruefully "Roger invited some friends of his aboard the bridge. There was an incident, a Toon threatened a crew member with a ray gun."

"My god, was anyone hurt?" Beverly asked with a mouthful of canteloupe.

"No, no, Data knew how to handle them but I overreacted. I gave Roger a real dressing down right there in front of everyone."

"Do you think your short temper had anything to do with not having slept?"

"Perhaps but I still crossed a line. Said some things that I can't take back." Beverly chewed her breakfast waiting for Picard to elaborate. "I called the Toons a nuisance and a menace to my crew. I even went so far as to say.." Picard sighed.  " I said they aren't living beings capable of real thought, they're simple holograms, nothing more." Picard said shamefully.

"Jean Luc, I'm surprised at you!" Beverly said.

"I surprised myself." Picard hurried to add.

"Well," Beverly said gingerly "Did you mean it?"

"No!" Picard quipped defensively.

"Are you sure, Jean Luc? Would you have said it all if some part of you didn't privately believe that they're not real?" Picard unhappily considered her point. He confessed softly "I have found these creatures that seem to live only to create chaos and sow disorder in the name of frivolity, difficult to accept as a legitimate culture."

"We've had to deal with difficult cultures before but you never questioned their personhood."

"It's not right of me, I know. I shouldn't think of them differently just because they are made of photons instead of carbon. And yet, if it came right down to it and I had to choose between the safety of my flesh-and-blood crew or these ink-and-paint characters, well..."

The point hung uncomfortably in the air when the door chime rang. Beverly and Picard looked at each other. They weren't expecting anyone. "Come." Picard called finally. The door hissed open and Roger Rabbit stood in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?" he asked sheepishly.

Picard tried to think of what to say when Beverly stood up and took her croissant with her. "Not at all."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your breakfast, Delor- er, uh, I mean; Beverly!" Roger stumbled to correct himself. "That's alright, Roger. I was just leaving" she said on her way out the door to give the two characters some much-needed space.

They both awkwardly remained where they were, Picard seated at his table Roger lurking in the doorway. "Please" Picard finally offered "Err, take a seat." Roger lit up as he zipped over to the empty chair next to Picard and was visibly about to pick it up but remembered why he'd come and made the effort to resist repeating a gag. Roger carefully, sensibly, took a seat. Making an effort at formality he cleared his throat and added "Thank you Cap'n." Falling back on pleasantries Picard asked "Erm, would you like anything to drink? Coffee?"

"Ooh, no thank you. I'm still wired from the Raktajino I had in Ten Forward. That stuff pack a wallop!" Roger said, some of his animated persona resurfacing. "Very brave," Picard said with genuine amusement "I've known people who couldn't sleep for two nights after a cup of Raktajino." he added taking a sip of coffee. "Yeah" Roger giggled "You look like you haven't slept in a week!" Roger slapped his gloved hands over his mouth before he could take back the comment. Picards eyes widened but sensing no offence meant, he swallowed his coffee, placed the mug back in its saucer and said diplomatically "Yes, well, it has been an eventful night for all of us."

They shared another awkward silence as they both considered what to say next before they both went to speak at the same time.

"Roger, there's something I wanted to-"

"Cap'n, I need to say something, pronto!" Roger spoke over him.

"Please," Picard said, yielding the floor.

"Cap'n, me and the other Toons have been talking, seriously talking, which ain't like us a bit" Roger began, as seriously as he could manage. Picard gave him the space to continue. "Well, we decided that if we want to be taken seriously, we need to get organised! So, we held a meetin' and chose the most level-headed, big-hearted, responsible, Toons we could think of to speak on our behalf." Picard sat forward, intrigued "You... elected representatives?"

"You betcha!"

"Well, that's fascinating, Roger. Whom did you elect?"

"Well, there's Minnie Mouse, Porky Pig, Popeye the Sailor, Pearl Pureheart and yours truly!"

"You?" Picard said, catching himself "You... are an official representative of ToonTown?"

"Yeah! Won by a landslide! I told that darn old Coyote not to mess around with his Acme Earthquake machine during an election but you try to tell him anything!"

"What was the voting process like, if I might ask?" Picards interest piqued. "Oh, it was simple, elegant and democratic. You winked one eye for 'yes' and stuck out your tongue for 'no'. Lucky for me the eyes had it! There was one 'nay' but Horace Horsecollar can't help himself!" Picard wasn't quite picturing the elegance of this process but was still impressed by their ability organise in their own interests.

"Anywho, that brings me to why I'm here talkin' to you now." Roger mustering seriousness "As a duly-elected ambassador of ToonTown, I wanted to discuss the dilemma we're facing."

"Dilemma?"

"The dilemma of what to do with us Toons! Capn', let's not mince words, we're pests, bothers, burdens, Grade-A nuisances! You said so yourself Cap'n, we don't belong on your ship!"

"Roger, I was-"

"Please, Capn', let me get through this. Because you're right, we DON'T belong on the Enterprise. Don't get me wrong, you guys have been swell, a lot of laughs and we can't repay you for your hospitality but we can't stay here. We Toons hate to wear out our welcome! Get in and get out, that's what Raoul always said."

"Roger, what are you suggesting" Picard politely cut in.

"Cap'n, we think it would be best if you shut us down."

"Ah," Picard began to explain "We've already explored that possibility and shutting down your program would only put you and the Toons into a state of semi-consciousness, like a waking dream, and we simply couldn't-"

"No, no, you don't understand; we want you to shut us down, permanently!" Roger said solemnly. Picards face twisted in disbelief "...What?? Roger, you cannot be serious."

"There you go again!" Roger hollered in frustration, jumping up in his seat and standing on the table. "Tellin' us Toons we can't be serious! Well, we're dead serious! Serious like a heart attack! Even when we do things your way, you still don't you take us seriously!" Roger had marched over the table and was an inch from Picards face who stood up to match Rogers ire.

"How can I when you make such reckless decisions!" he barked before turning his back to pace the room. "There was nothing reckless about it!" Roger said hopping down off the table to follow Picard "We deliberated our decision deliberately, explored every possibility, left no stone unturned and came to the inevitable conclusion that you have to shut us down!" Roger fervently explained. Picard turned on his heel to face Roger, stood up straight and spoke fiercely "Very well. Then explain it to me, convince me why I should allow you to extinguish yourselves forever and go against my direct orders."

"Fine! It's like this" Roger said dragging a chair from the table so he could look the Captain in the eyes as he made his case "A Toon's purpose in life is to make people laugh and you aren't laughin'. In fact, hardly anyone's done any laughin' since we got here! If animated cartoons are history, we want people to remember us as the zany characters what bought smiles to peoples faces, not the jerks that stopped the Enterprise. It's not enough just to be remembered, Jean Luc, it's how you're remembered."

Picard was taken aback. "You know my name..." he said with wonder. "That's right, Cap'n Picard. I also know there's no place for the holographical likeness of a cartoon rabbit on board your ship." Roger said with startling clarity. Picard had to rethink everything. This was a creature who knew exactly who, what, when and where he was and it took til now for Picard to see that.

"Roger," Picard began, struggling to know where to begin "I don't know what to say except, well, that I owe you an apology." Roger cocked his head as Picard continued from the heart "Because you look different than us and behave differently than we do, I haven't been thinking of you as people. Real people. So much so, that I made you feel you didn't have a right to exist. It was simple primitive prejudice on my part. And for that, I am sorry and can only ask your forgiveness." Picard said contritely.

"And...?" Roger said, leading him. Picard took the hint and added "And of course for the things I said to you on the bridge. It was behaviour unbecoming of a Starfleet officer." he concluded again.

"Annnnd...?" Roger continued leading. "And..." Picard trailed off, unsure what he was missing. Roger pantomimed pulling his ears. "Oh! And I'm deeply sorry for tugging at your ears."

"Apology accepted!" Roger leapt into the air and landed in the Captains arms. "And I'm sorry for oversteppin', easy to do with these big thumpin' feet of mine! I shouldn't have invited all those Toons to the bridge for our afterparty. I know you value your personal space!" Roger said, realising he was currently cradled in the Captains arms. "Whoops! Pardon me!" He said hopping to the ground.

"I appreciate that Roger, really. However, despite your collective selflessness, I'm still under orders and cannot in good conscience shut the Toons down."

"Well, then what are gonna do, Cap'n! We're back at square one!" said Roger returning to the table and chowing down on the fruit which had been left mostly untouched. "I don't think so," said Picard joining him and buttering his croissant at long last "we've reached an understanding and now face a common problem. Together I'm sure we can find a solution." he said taking a bite. "Say yeah! After all, two heads are better one! Just ask Boola the two-headed ogre!" Roger said excitedly. He returned to considering the problem at hand "Well, we agree on one thing for starters; we Toons can't stay aboard the Enterprise forever."

"Agreed" Picard said "And we've already ruled out simply shutting the Toons down. So the problem is where can you exist freely and peacefully. Tell me Roger, if you could live anywhere, where might that be."

"That's simple! I'd want to go back to ToonTown, there's no place like home and all that!"

"Indeed. However, engineering has informed us that running ToonTown indefinitely would risk overloading or simply burning out the Holodeck which poses the risk of you being erased."

"Shucks!" Roger said snapping his fingers. The holographic rabbit took a satisfyingly real bite out of a replicated apple and said absentmindedly "If only there was somewhere else to run the ToonTown program... Or someone who knew enough about ToonTown to keep it running smoothly... maybe if that person had access to a mainframe of some kind with an independent power source that could maintain a continuously running holoprogram. Ah but dream on!" he said finishing his apple. "You gonna finish that?" he asked, licking his lips at the croissant Picard had stopped eating.

"Roger" Picard said, who's astonished face began to take on an energetic smile "You may have just solved this refugee crisis!"

"I did? Gee, and all it took was a little brain food!" he said confidently spinning the cored apple on one-finger.

Sometime later that morning, Captain Picard sat at the head of the conference table, fully dressed in his uniform and spoke clearly "Computer, contact Rear-Admiral Ira Hensley at Starfleet Headquarters."

"Initiating sub-space transmission" the computer reported. Momentarily, Hensley's piercing eyes were staring back at him.

"Captain Picard, I can't say your call is unexpected," he said, subtly condescending "I've been reviewing reports from your crew. You've been having trouble adjusting to life with the Toons?"

"Well, I'll admit there were some growing pains but we've reached a very amicable understanding." Picard gladly replied.

"Good. Because if you're calling to ask if Starfleet has ratified any agreements on the rights of holographic persons, you're going to be disappointed."

"No need. The Toons have found a solution for themselves."

"Oh...". Hensley sounded skeptical.

"Rear-Admiral" Picard announced, standing to attention "I'd like to introduce you to the democratically elected ambassadors ToonTown to the Federation. This is Minnie Mouse!" he said extending an arm. A Toon mouse with a big red bow between her round ears stepped into view and gave a curtsey in her polka-dot dress. "How do you do" she giggled as she took her seat at the table.

"And this is Porky Pig." Picard said in reference to the chubby Toon pig without pants. "It's my p-pl-plea-p-p-plea, it's a nice day we're havin'!" he chuckled at his own stammering.

"Pearl Pureheart,"

"So good of you join us Rear-Admiral "sung a fair mouse maiden in an opera tenor.

"Popeye the Sailor," The uncouth old salt waved his misshapen arms at the screen. Hensley tried to conceal wincing at the grotesque character.

"And finally, the man who organised this coalition, my good personal friend, Roger Rabbit" Picard declared proudly. "Gee, thanks Cap'n! You're gettin' me all misty!" Roger said vigorously shaking Picard's hand. "Roger" Picard said, gently reminding him "this is Rear-Admiral Hensley." Roger stopped shaking Picards hand went right up to the screen "Hiya Hensley! Say! That's pretty neat! Where's the camera on this big old movieola?" All Hensley could see on his viewscreen was extreme close-ups of Rogers's face as he searched for the camera.

"Yes, I'm sure." he called, craning his neck to try and see past the Rabbit "Err, Captain! Would it be possible to speak privately, man-to-man?"

"Just what do you mean man-to-man, Hensley? Huh? Can't talk man-to-man-to-Toon?" Roger said, folding his arms in mock outrage.

"Rear-Admiral, you wouldn't want anyone to get the impression that you're uncomfortable negotiating with Toons would you?" Picard said putting a hand on Roger's shoulder and trying to hide his impish smile. "No! Not at all, Captain. I simply wasn't expecting a conference call!" Hensley quipped defensively. Regaining composure he continued in a measured manner "I'd be more than happy to hear the Toon ambassadors proposal."

"Say, that's swell, Hensley! I knew you weren't as bad as you looked!" Roger said without a trace of malice. He carried on obliviously "Our dilemma is this: The Enterprise can't properly accommodate the needs of the modern Toon and to put it frankly, well..." Roger trailed off. "We wouldn't want to spend the rest of our days on this tub anyhow!" Popeye interjected pounding his swollen fist on the table like a gavel. "Ooh, no disrespect meant Captain Picard" Minnie squeaked hurriedly with due deference to Picard. "None taken, Ambassador." Picard said smoothly, to Hensleys shock and dismay.

"The Toons took a vote and unanimously agreed, we want to go back to ToonTown indeed!" Pearl Pureheart sang. "That's right!" Roger jumped in "And working together with your Starfleet Officers, we devised a workable scheme whereby the ToonTown holoprogram could be run continuously to create a permanent home for all us Toons!"

"A continuously running program? For dozens of self-aware holographic persons? Intriguing. But what facility could handle such an endeavour? Nothing on this scale has ever been attempted before. It would need constant supervision and maintenance!"

"That's where you come in, Rear-Admiral" Picard interjected "We were hoping you could contact the Jupiter Station Holoprogramming Center. Our engineers assure us they would be the best place to house the program and keep it running safely. This would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for their research as well. And who knows, their findings may help to establish a case for holographic rights throughout the Federation." Picard suggested tantalisingly. Hensley didn't smile but furrowed his brow in grave thought "Yes. It's possible, quite possible. I happen to know the Director of the Holoprogramming centre, a Doctor, uh... Zimmerman! I'm sure he and his team would leap at the chance to study self-aware holopraphic persons long-term..." Picard and the Toons hung on the Rear-Admirals approval. "There's just one small problem, Picard. Oh and uh, Ambassadors"

"Prob-p-p-pr--pr-prob-p-What's the rub?" Porky Pig asked desperately.

"We can't be certain that the researchers can run the program safely, after all, ToonTown and the Toons themselves are an experimental new kind of program. I can't sign off on any plan that couldn't guarantee your safety" Hensley said sternly. The Toons looked back and forth at each other despondently, they thought their plan was foolproof.

"Rear-Admiral" Picard added hastily "The person who created this program is a man who values his anonymity. We know him only as Felix, however, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Starfleet Intelligence knew his real name, where he lives and what he likes after supper." Hensley sat up straight and narrowed his blue eyes. "I don't like what you're implying Picard," he said, affecting due outrage. "Starfleet isn't in the business of espionage and surveillance. We aren't the Tal Shiar!"

"Of course not" Picard said, de-escalating "But suppose Starfleet DID know Felix's identity, I imagine he might be faced with some very serious charges for interfering with the safety and operations of a Starship."

"Naturally." Hensley said bluntly.

"Charges I'm sure Felix would rather avoid. And for that matter, I'm sure Starfleet wouldn't want it known that such a breach of security could be perpetrated by one holoprogrammer with too much time on his hands. In fact, I suspect that would be the sort of thing that both parties would benefit from settling outside the judiciary."

"Cut to the chase, Picard." said Hensley, visibly displeased with the direction the conversation was taking. "You want someone to assist Jupiter Station running ToonTown? The author of the program seems an ideal candidate and a person of his ability and potential could be invaluable. If I knew who Felix was, I'd call in a favour, in exchange for avoiding a sentence to the New Zealand penal settlement. That is IF I knew." Picard added with thinly-veiled guile.

Hensley remained stiff and upright in his chair, looking deeply uncomfortable. "I'll see what I can do. Hensley out." he said brusquely before signing off.

The Toons stared at each other in astonishment, not sure what it all meant. "Did- did we do it? Are we goin' to Jupiter?" Roger asked tentatively. "Roger, I'd bet my badge on it" Picard said confidently before the room erupted in cheers of congratulation from the Toon representatives.

Elmer led the hunting party, crouching and sneaking about in long, deliberate, strides. Worf, armed with his prized Bat'leth, brought up the rear standing at his full height. Elmer stopped to survey his surroundings and Worf, checking behind them for any signs of their prey, almost tripped over him.

"Shhhh!" Elmer hissed "Watch where you're going, Kwingon and cwouch down for cwying out woud, he'll see ya!" Worf looked around at the open empty hallway and did not see how crouching would help conceal them but he bowed to the hunters wisdom.

As they crept along, Worf's footing made a squeak on the carpeted floor. Again the Hunter reprimanded him shouting just below a whisper "Cut out that wacket! We've got to be vewwy, vewwy quiet. That duck has a scwew woose." Worf nodded. The two crept along in perfect, silent, unison, not noticing a third member had joined their hunting party.

At the sound of another improbably creak, the hunter whipped around to Word and delivered a furious "Shhh!"

Worf turned to the duck and gave a "Shhh!"

The duck mimed zipping his beak.

"THE DUCK!!" Worf shouted. Elmer got such a fright he started firing buckshot wildly into the air. Worf brought his bat-leth down on the duck but he was too quick for them. The duck grabbed the hunter by the cheek and gestured frantically "There he goes, nimrod! After him, hurry he's gettin' away!" Elmer spun around in a stupor before running off down the hallway as the duck laughed to himself. "Did you see what I did there? Boy, did I put one over on that ol' hunter!" his laughter drying up as he slowly realised he was gloating to Worf towering over him, Bat'leth gleaming. The duck grinned sheepishly before dropping all pretense and tearing down the hallway crying "Wait for me, short-stuff!"

Worf caught a glimpse of the duck chasing the hunter down the opposite hallway an intersection over before running straight past him again. They were going around the block. This happened again and another time and another, not having noticed Worf had slipped away.

After racing past where they'd started from once more, the duck skidded to a halt and stared at a conspicuously placed poster on the wall. Elmer meanwhile continued to run in circles. The poster which was visibly made of animated material featured a headshot of the duck and read in large print letters 'REWARD: One million bucks for one measly duck'.

"A million bucks!?" The duck said out loud, his eyes become vacant with naked greed. He zipped around the hallway peeking into every nook and cranny crying out for Worf "Hey! Where'd you go? Wanted duck here! Fugitive from the law!" He finally spotted Worf casually inspecting his bat-leth in a sheltered alcove. "There you are, my little stool-pigeon!" he said to himself before throwing himself at the Klingon's feet and going into a new-leaf routine. "All right, you win! I'm turning myself over to your mercy! I can't take it any more, life on the lamb, bang-bang, the coppers always on my heels, it's enough to drive a duck daffy! Hoo-hoo! So take me away, officer, I'll come quietly, just leave my dignity" the duck said repentantly, tears falling from his eye.

"No" said Worf not making eye contact with the duck.

"No! Whatd'ya mean no? I'm turning myself in for crimes against the Federation! Have you no sense of duty! What's the matter with you?"

"You haven't broken any laws," he said, lowering his gaze to the duck "Other than being annoying." The incensed duck looked him up and down before winding him up and giving him a swift kick in the shins with his soft webbed feet. "Okay, I kicked a cop! That's thirty days right there! Come on throw the book at me!" he insisted holding his hands out to be arrested. The Klingon saddled his bat-leth to his back and sighed, speaking plainly "Daffy Dumas Duck, I hereby place you under arrest for assaulting a Starfleet officer."

"So? Let's get on with-" before he could finish mouthing off, Worf had pounced and proceeded to force the duck into a Toon straightjacket, wrapped in Toon ropes with some Toon padlocks for good measure. "Aha!" the duck cackled and jumped for joy "I did it! I turned myself if in! That means I get the reward, now don't try and back out of it now, you're a Starfleet officer bound by your word!"

"You will get what's coming to you," Worf said simply "But first, take a few steps back."

"Like, so?" the duck stepped back obligingly.

"Further."

"How's this?"

"Good but further."

"Alright, alright, are you gonna let me have it or or are you gonna let me have it!" the duck shrieked. Worf smiled. He put his fingers between his lips and have an ear-splitting whistle.

Momentarily, the floor began to shake and Daffy stumbled to maintain his balance when a herd of Toon bucks stampeded right over the duck. The dust settled and the duck had been flattened and covered in hoofprints. He peeled his head off the floor and it regained form with a large fleshy bump on his head and said dizzily "Careful with that gag, it's an antique." A small Toon deer lept nimbly on the ducks head as it scampered down the hall and the duck fell to the floor again.

Worf stepped up and picked up the duck by his feet, victorious. The duck shook off the stars he was seeing and said peevishly "That was a dirty trick, where'd you get all these restraints from anyway? And the poster for that matter?"

"I did as you Toons do and pulled it from behind my back." Worf said menacingly pulling a Toon vice from behind his back. The duck shrieked "You can't do this to me! I want my phone call! Jack Warner will hear of this! Attica!!" as Worf screwed his mouth shut.

The hunter came to a stop having circled back again. "Say, you did it, you did it! Hooway!" he began to sing "For he's a jowwy good fewwow, for he's a jowwy good fewwow!"

"Thank you, my friend."

"How did you catch that old duck, anyway?"

"It was simple. Commander Data taught me that if you let a Toon set their own trap, they will inevitably catch themselves."

"Extwoadinawy!" Elmer exclaimed.

"And furthermore, it's unbelievable" the duck managed from the side of his beak.

"And now, I shall honour Klingon tradition by taking his body as a trophy." Worf said admiring his catch and unsheathing his bat-leth. The duck's eyes went wide. Elmer tried to stay his hand and protested "No sale! That scwewey duck is going to be my duck dinner!" Worf considered this as the duck sweated profusely.

Worf offered "Would you need the beak?"

The duck was feeling faint when Captain Picard's voice came through Worf's comms badge. "This is Captain Picard. All Toons are to be escorted to the nearest transporter room for immediate disembarkment. Picard out." Worf and Elmer looked appalled, they couldn't believe the duck's luck, who batted his eyelashes at them looking angelic.

In transporter room three, Captain Picard, Commander Riker and Lieutenant Commander Data were bidding a group of Toon's farewell. Mr O'brien stood at the ready to beam them off the Enterprise. Minnie Mouse, her husband, Porky Pig, Popeye, his best girl, Pearl Pureheart and the flying mouse stood in position on the transporter platform.

"Buh-b-bye-bye-b-buh-buh-Saynora!" called Porky.

"You will come by and visit us sometime, won'cha Cap'n Valiant!" the mouse in red shorts asked gallantly until his wife nudged him "Oh, huh, I mean Cap'n Picard, sir!"

"I'm sure we'll see each other again." Picard said in a non-committal way.

Worf stormed in with the duck still in hand. Elmer hurried to keep up. "Captain, what is the meaning of this?" Worf asked, forgoing pleasantries.

"Ah, Mr Worf, you're just in time to send off our guests," Picard said gladly.

"So long, ya big palooka!" piped up Popeye waving at Worf. "Ohhh Popeye, you may not be so handsome but you're strong!" his girlfriend cooed. Popeye chuckled, taking this as a compliment and blew a whistle through his pipe.

"Where are the Toons being sent?" Worf asked, ignoring the peanut gallery. "Take a look for yourself," Riker said holding up a PADD for him to see. Toons being beamed back into an animated landscape that puffy letters on a hillside marked as 'TOONTOWN'. Riker tapped the screen and showed different characters arriving from all over.

"I thought returning these miscreants to their holographic world was not an option." Worf stated. "As did we" Data added, "However, an arrangement has been made with the Jupiter Station Holoprogramming Center to run the ToonTown program permanently."

"Not only that" Picard added "But the author of the ToonTown program has been assigned to help make it the worlds first Holohub."

"Holo hub?" Worf repeated. Data explained, "In theory, anyone with a working holocomplex will able to connect to the ToonTown program on Jupiter, their holographic likeness will be projected there and the Toons will be projected back in real-time, creating a virtual hub for Federation citizens to visit ToonTown."

"Oh Mickey, it's going to be so thrilling to be entertaining again!" Minnie said giddily to her beau. "I predict it will be a rousing success!" the flying mouse chimed in. "But first they have to make it work" Riker added to stop them getting overexcited.

"So, the Toons are leaving the Enterprise" Picard added glancing at the duck Worf still held tightly in his grip. "All of them." Worf sighed reluctantly and dropped the duck. Who sputtered something unrepeatable through the vice on his beak. "Don't you think you'd better take that-" Riker began. "The restraints stay on until the duck is back where he belongs" Worf shot back. Riker looked down at the duck and half-jokingly told him "You'd better get going before he changes his mind."

The duck didn't need to be told twice and jumped onto the transporter pad followed by Elmer. "So long Dracula, parting is such sweet sorrow!" the duck spoke through his muzzle.

"If you ever return to this ship, I will kill you." Worf promised. The duck nudged Porky "Ain't he a card?"

Elmer began waving and said "Goodbye Captain Picawd! Goodbye Mr Wowf! Goodbye Mr Wiker! Goodbye Mr O'bwien!"

"Energise." Picard said in the middle of Elmer's goodbyes. The transporter whirred as it powered up and beamed the characters out.

"Well, that's nearly the last of them. Has Roger gone yet?" Riker asked as a loud honking was heard screaming toward them. The door to the transporter room slid open just in time for Benny the Cab to skid in without crashing. "For cryin' out loud Benny! Can ya wait til we get home to kill us?" Baby Herman rasped from between Roger and Jessica in Benny's carriage. "It's not my fault nobody knows how to drive on this damn ship!" Benny barked at his backseat driver. Roger hopped out of the animated car dressed in a polo shirt, slacks and a flat cap.

"You fellas always' argue on vacation!" Roger chuckled back at them. "Boy, it'll be great to be back on home turf where I can really burn rubber!" Benny declared, reversing up onto the transporter platform.

Jessica, who wore a long skirt, casual jacket and had her hair up in a headscarf, lifted Baby Herman out of the backseat and onto his feet. Herman looked a sight in his bespoke suit complete with a fedora, travelling case and a cigar hanging out of his mouth. Somehow it didn't quite go with his diaper. "Ah, I'll be glad to kiss this place goodbye too. Nobody knows how to mix a drink worth a damn!" he said marching onto the transporter like an impatient businessman headed for his gate. "Hurry it up, you too!" he yelled back. "Hold your horses, Herman!" Roger called back "You know how cranky babies get after a long vacation" he whispered up to Picard.

"Quite so. Well, Roger, Jessica, I suppose this is goodbye" Picard said sentimentally.

"Not so fast, Jean Luc" Jessica interrupted. She reached for the PADD Riker was holding. "May I?" Once again he was helpless. "Of course. Of course, you may! Ma'am."

She swiped through different views from the live feed of ToonTown as Roger teased "We had the Toons whip up a little parting gift for ya!" "Ah, here it is!" Jessica said having found what she was looking for and passed the PADD to Picard. In what appeared to be the centre of ToonTown, the Toons had erected, at an implausible speed, a statue of Picard who looked to be pointing toward a better tomorrow, hand in hand with Roger. "Now everyone who comes to visit ToonTown will know the man who made it all happen! Well, what do you think?" Roger pressed. "Oh, say you like it, do" Jessica insisted.

Picard had never been comfortable with grand gestures and struggled to find the words. "Well, it's uh, i'ts certainly..." He trailed off and looked down at Roger's hope-filled eyes practically begging for approval. "Thank you, Roger." was all Picard had to say.

"See Jessica, I told you he'd love it!"

"Right as always, my little honey bunny."

"Now you've got no excuse not to come and visit once the Holohub do-hickey is up and runnin'!" Roger said ecstatically.

"You hear that, Captain" said Riker taking great pleasure in it "No excuse"

"I know it would mean everything to Roger and me if you would" Jessica added.

"Why, you could even stay a while! We'd be glad to put you up after all you've done for us! Lovebird Lane can be a really restful place, y'know," Roger rambled, only stopping once he saw the look of reticence Picard was trying to conceal. Roger tried to laugh off the awkwardness "Boy, there I go again ropin' you into something you don't want to do."

"Roger,"

"You're busy seekin' out new life and new civilisations-"

"Roger,"

"And I'm just some crazy cartoon rabbit who doesn't know when to-"

"Roger!"

Roger jumped at Picard raising his voice. The passing look of mild frustration gave way to a smile. "I have some shore-leave next month. Mr LaForge tells me that should more than enough time for Felix to get the Holohub up and running. I'd be delighted to visit you and your wife" Picard said extending a hand. Roger's face broke into a grin and shook his friend's hand and this time didn't get carried away.

O'Brien chimed in "These four are the last Toons to beam out, sir" Roger looked up at Jessica and taking her hand, stepped onto the platform with her.

"Catch ya next time, 'Noids!" Benny hollered.

"Ah, good riddance" Baby Herman pouted.

"Thank you, Captain, for everything" Jessica purred.

"G'bye Jean Luc!" Roger called waving frantically.

"Mr Data," Picard asked the android casually "What's the best way to send off a Toon?"

"According to my analysis, the single most common ending to an animated cartoon is simply: 'The End'" Somehow this didn't satisfy Picard. Data recognised the look and added, "The second most common ending is 'That's All Folks'."

This seemed right. Picard gave the order "Energise."

The animated characters were turned to pure energy by the transporter and shone with brilliant light before disappearing like figments of the imagination. The rabbit was back in the hat.