Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"It's true, Doc. I'm a rabbit, alright. Would you like to shoot me now or wait till you get home?"

"Shoot him now! Shoot him now!"

"You keep out of this! He doesn't have to shoot you now!"

"He does so have to shoot me now! I demand that you shoot me now!"

Elmer was a bit perplexed by this request but—oh, well, if the duck wanted it so insistingly...

He, on the other hand, couldn't help his lips curving at the sight of Daffy being so satisfied with his false victory that he stuck his tongue out at him, unaware that the shotgun was aiming at his face, and Elmer's finger was quick to pull the trigger and make the duck happy.

...

And then the alarm clock rang.

Ben tried to open his eyes, he tried really hard, but had to wait several minutes to be able to. His sight was all blurry and dizzy, and it would stay that way for a long while. He was lying on his back, in his underwear, all bathed in sweat. It wasn't a very beautiful way to wake up, true, but that was not a very pretty morning either. Clouds covered a summer sky which should have been bright and lovely. Ben felt the sweat coating his skin uncomfortably cold.

He forgot who Daffy and Elmer were the very moment he found himself back to the land of the awake. He couldn't have even been able to describe what he had dreamed about that night. All he knew was this: he really, really didn't want to get out of bed. But he had to, he had to go to work, whether he liked it or not. He wanted to sigh and his throat produced an animal-like grunt instead.

And it was just Tuesday...

Chapter Text

It was about time he rested his eyes after spending hours looking at the screen of his computer. Mayor Joey Bailey stood up, cocked his head to one side and the other, making his neck crack, and walked towards the window of his office to take a look at the outside world.

Funny that it didn't seem it was so. It felt like...being still trapped in a small world, or a very wide room.

It was in moments like these when he regretted having moved to Warner Falls. He would never admit it aloud and he usually pushed the thought deep down, far, far out of reach, but he did, it was the honest truth. The promotional brochures described the town as a paradise of peace and calm, in the most sunny part of the country, immersed in nature; the perfect place to raise one's children. Joey thought that the brochure was either written back in very distant times or whoever wrote it was the dirtiest liar in the world, because the town he knew and ruled had none of those. Warner Falls had been once surrounded by a massive forest, that was true, but most of it had been abusively cut down in the previous century and now only a few acres remained. A sad patch of thin, color-faded trees. As for the sun, maybe those people who complained about the climate change on the television were right after all, because sun wasn't very frequently seen there. A layer of clouds permanently covered it, making the inhabitants wonder if that thing they called sun really existed. In hot months like that, it only served to make the atmosphere more suffocating without the relief of rain, for it always looked about to rain, but drops never fell.

Almost but never. That could have been the perfect slogan for Warner Falls.

Nevertheless, there was one true statement in those brochures and that was the calm; though Joey would have rather described it as "absolute, demential boredom".

It was funny, because he had moved to the town recommended by his doctor, after that period of extreme stress in his home town, New York, that gave him a feinted cardiac arrest (his mother insisted that he was too fat and he might as well have lost weight, but he was convinced it was the stress); and now that not only had he recovered his health but also had ended up becoming that town's mayor, he felt he didn't like Warner Falls at all.

Oh, but he wouldn't leave. Moving would be a mess he didn't want to go through again. And he guessed this was just a silly feeling which would disappear soon. It was just one of those teen-like tantrums everyone had on moody days. When one didn't see the sun in months, even years, the mind got cloudy too.

He made an oath, to take care of that little, forgotten town, prevent it from disappearing. So many people, mostly elders who had worked hard all their life to build the town, trusted him. His hands were tied on this matter. He would have felt like one of those dishonest politicians, which he deeply despised, if he just gave up on Warner Falls.

Once having taken good care of those unpleasant thoughts, Joey walked to the phone and dialed, then waited leaning on his desk.

"Yes?" A voice asked in the other side of the line. And Joey thought—not wanting to seem racist, he refused to think about those matters too—that the custodian had the strongest Mexican accent he had ever encountered. Jyes.

"José, are you busy?" Joey asked.

Which was like asking: «do you have the time and will to hear my issues?»

"Busy? No, not at all. People don't come at this hour often. I'm playing Candy Crush."

"Fine. I'll be with you in a second. They've left a package for you in my office again."

Another way of saying: «I need someone to give me a reason to keep doing this.»

Why this person was the custodian? Joey knew people like him pretended they cared about guys like him but mingled with 'their class', those they could get useful favors from. They did so because they didn't know José, or didn't bother to actually pay attention to the likes of him one could find in every corner, if they pay attention. That was how their relationship started, with packages coming and going. Little conversations. When José asked 'how do you do?', he wasn't just being polite: he actually hoped to hear a sincere answer. And Joey was sometimes so tired, so fed up with everything that a sincere response escaped from his lips. It became too late to go back to his timid way of communicating: José was now aware that behind that facade of a merry man was an insecure individual eaten by doubt and so, from then on, he stayed for a while in his office or made him stay for a bit in his place to have a conversation where Joey inadvertently exposed what he was so desperately trying to keep hidden and he gave him his two cents if he accepted it. Some people had that ability to untangle tongues, and he fell into his trap.

"Ah, yes, my new phone case. I was waiting for that. Yes, come here whenever you want. You know there's always a place for you at the bar—and not because you're the big boss." Joey had the feeling José winked at the other side of the line upon saying this. He could picture him clearly.

Joey smiled, even though José couldn't see him. Could it be said that José was his friend? He was cautious about that. Experience had taught him not to give himself to anyone soon, but wait to see if he could trust them. But José was doing fine and he had the feeling soon that strong word, 'friend' could be applied to him. He was a nice guy. He helped him see he had nice people around him; that was a good reason not to leave that grey town.

The living-dining room was so old-fashioned, so pastel, it practically screamed that an old lady lived there. Only a few personal belongings here and there, a few magazines on the coffee table, pointed at a more juvenile company. The walls were filled with photos of a young man, like documenting his life from birth to the present day—the other half was dedicated to the mother and daughter who was gone too soon.

The lady, Mrs. Hart, was sitting in an armchair, looking through the window, needlework in hand. She had promised herself she would make a bedspread for her grandson, before age ate her sight away, but there was a problem: she was constantly distracted.

First, by Isadore—her Izzy.

This was supposed to be his free day, but there he was, here and there and everywhere, one second with the hoover in hand, the next with a chamois, then he left to do the groceries...She hadn't seen him in a while, and she was hearing the metallic sound of the kitchen utensils being put to work. It shouldn't have surprised her: Izzy had always been a restless boy. It didn't matter how hard she had tried to convince him to spend his free day resting: he just couldn't keep still. He had to do something. Everything. It made her feel disabled.

Second, by the figure she was seeing through the window.

The Murphies seemed like a really nice family. One of those charming neighbors who always say hello and have a nice word for everyone. But it seemed they had nothing nice to say to each other. She had heard nothing even though she would often put the television on mute, but Mrs. Farrell told her she could hear the arguments from her house and had some times felt tempted to call the police, in case their neighborhood ended up in one of those true-crime television programs she loved to watch. Who would have told it! Mrs. Hart guessed couples those days lacked patience, which was what made marriage last. God knew it wasn't easy, but she had a lot to put up with her late Georgie and she could say they were as happy as they could be in their almost forty years together...However, if the Murphies were so tired of each other they couldn't be in the same room without throwing the dinner service at each other's head..., she guessed that was what divorce was for. Sometimes it is wise not to stay where you are not happy.

The problem was that the Murphies had a son. A young child. Eight? Nine years old? She didn't know for sure. But he was so handsome, the kind of child all mothers wish their babies to become. When there are children in the way, parents should be extra careful of what they allow them to witness, and the Murphies, unfortunately, didn't care.

Perhaps that was why little Pip was outside of the house most of the time, swinging in that tire tied up to the tree. Distracted by everything like wanting to be somewhere else.

Or perhaps she was just acting like a grandma and feeling sympathy for any child she found cute.

But it was true: Pip Murphy was often in front of her window and she couldn't stop looking at him even if she tried.

She looked at him for so long that he somehow ended up noticing he was being observed.

He turned his head at the window and apparently saw the old figure sitting by it. She saw him draw a timid smile, so angelical, so beautiful. She smiled back.

"Aaaand voilà! Succotash!"

Mrs. Hart turned her head at Isadore's fancy presentation of their lunch, and then got up and left her work on the armchair. Before sitting at the dinner table, she gave a last look at Pip and waved her hand. He waved back.

"That smells really good, dearie." Mrs. Hart complimented him.

"Not as good as yours, but I tried." Isadore replied, sitting in front of her, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

They ate in silence for a while until, half of their meal eaten, Isadore asked:

"I've been looking for my old teddy bear, do you know where it is?"

"Mr. Whiskers?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I gave it to Mrs. Murphy, for the kindergarten children."

His fine mustache made a small, descending curve.

"You said you were going to donate all your toys because you were too old for them, didn't you?" Mrs. Hart raised her eyes to him.

"Yeah…" Isadore couldn't help saying that with a very cold voice, so much that Mrs. Hart noticed.

"Oh, I should have asked you first." She lamented, joining her hands.

"Nah, it's okay. I'm sorry. You did right. If he liked it...why not...I just wanted to know where it was, that's all..."

They kept eating, not speaking for a while.

"For the kindergarten children. Pip is surely too old for plushies." Mrs. Hart remarked, breaking the silence, her eyes on the plate.

"I believe you. I told you, it's okay." Isadore replied.

"It's not. I am old and I am losing my sight but I can still see that, honey. You can't stand the neighbors, and him specially."

"No, really, I have nothing against the neighbors, and I don't even know that kid, I can't hate him. I just find it annoying how they're always walking around like their asses don't-"

"Watch that mouth, we're eating."

"Sorry...But it's true: I'm fine with it, and if Mr. Whiskers is going to be with kids who will appreciate him, that's great!"

"But?" Mrs. Hart smirked.

"But what?"

"Well, alright. Don't be sincere if you don't want. But I know you wouldn't have reacted the same way if I had given Mr. Whiskers to someone else. The fact that they've got their problems doesn't mean they are bad people. And the child's got nothing to do with the whole issue."

"The child, the child...Maybe it is you who's obsessed with the child, not me."

They fell silent again, briefly, because Mrs. Hart found no objection to that. The fact was...she had been thinking about Pip Murphy for long...

"I cooked for tomorrow too, so you can rest your back." Isadore was the one who speak first this time.

"My back has been fine for weeks, you don't need to keep me wrapped in cotton wool. Don't worry about me. You have your own life, your work, issues to deal with—one day you'll get married and start your own family, I hope. I don't want you to put those things aside for me."

"You'll never bother me. Don't even think for a second you're a burden or something of the sort. You have taken care of me since I was little, right? Then it's time that I return the favor. That's all."

A sincere smile made the mustache go up. Oh, he looked so cute when he smiled that way. In spite of the fine mustache and the height, he was still the little boy who followed each of her steps like a duckling. Mrs. Hart's heart melted just remembering it.

"Oh, Izzy…" Mrs. Hart had to be the only person who was allowed to call Isadore that way. "You are too kind. A favor? It was a pleasure! A duty! Do you think I would have just forgotten about you? Oh, please...As if you didn't know me...There are no favors to return...But I won't change my mind: you need to have more time for yourself."

Isadore shook his head like she was speaking nonsense, and he changed the subject as soon as possible, in hopes it made her forget her stupid idea.

"I got my parents' photos from the studio. I'll show you: they look fine."

"Do they?"

She replied, but, in spite of Isadore's efforts, her mind was beyond the house walls, in the Murphies' yard, where Pip swung.

"Sure. Computers now make real marvels."

"I'd love to see it. But please, take your time to eat and leave the dishes for later. Or let me wash them. Don't you? Oh, please, dear, I'm not disabled, let me do some work. It gets really boring to just sit here and do nothing. No? Oh, Izzy, can't you say anything else?"

Martin sometimes looked around him, at his 'cave', as he called it, found Treg standing there, messing everything up, bringing noise into what once was a peaceful realm, and asked himself how, when, why.

He would then follow the trace of his memories and find himself five years before, back when it was just him and his dirty van. It didn't matter it was dirty: he wasn't going to complain about the dust and mud. He hadn't installed in Warner Falls yet: he was still wandering California, looking for a way to earn a buck. Instead, he found a young boy with his long hair dyed violet, his thumb up on one side of the road and just a backpack with him. If he could have talked to his past self, he would have insisted him about thinking well what he was doing, stopping to see what this boy wanted. 'Just take me somewhere'? What kind of answer was that? Red flag. Keep going. But no, he had to let him in, thinking that he could just drop him in the next city and forget about him.

That was five years before and now, Tregoweth Sadowski was part of his life like his own arm or leg. He had changed violet for blue, but, apart from that, he had not changed one bit. One more example of his terrible life choices.

It had taken him a lot of convincing that he got himself this job as a package delivery boy, but most of the time Treg never listened to a word he said—unless it gave him the chance to catch some incongruity. The little jerk sure loved to tease him any chance he had. He wasn't going to call his parents to tell them he was sorry and go back home, or study, or even clean what he got dirty.

Sure he was not going to listen to him about this particular matter.

They were watching TV but none of them seemed very interested in it. A stupid program about weight loss which presented tragedy after tragedy, stories of personal growth, in order to bring tears to the viewers' eyes. Martin glanced at his nails all the time, completely immune to its ridiculous attempts, while Treg, lying on the sofa with his legs on Martin's lap, had his eyes fixed on the screen but his thoughts seemed to be far away from the program. Actually, the show probably gave him an idea or two.

"You really should." He eventually broke the silence. And Martin needed no context: he knew what he was talking about.

"Treg, I always come back from work so tired that all I want to do for the rest of the day is sleep." He had used the argument that he was not made for jogging, the lack of money to buy the proper equipment; now it was the time to try something different. "What makes you think I want to spend the weekends getting up at 5 A.M to run?"

"It would give you more energy to face the day."

"Sports are not for me, Treg, you know it very well."

"Yeah, I know, but no one needs a degree in order to run. Come oon! You are so lanky, and thin, and bony that it makes you look like a dancing skeleton."

"Just say that you can do nothing alone." Martin quickly changed the subject before Treg could reply. "By the way, with what are you going to give me an indigestion with today?"

"I thought of making pizza."

"Again?" Martin raised an eyebrow.

"What? Don't you like it?"

"I do. But you always make pizza. Well, make...Just buy it pre-made and put it in the oven. I wouldn't call that cooking."

"I can pick up the phone and order a burger."

"Do you know what a frying pan even is?"

"Yeah, that thing I use to play ping pong with."

"And you complain about my constitution!" Martin rolled his eyes. "We made a deal: you cook, I do everything else!"

"Don't I cook?" Treg accidentally sank his foot in Martin's stomach when he shook his body, acting like a dramatically hurt victim.

"That poison you serve me cannot be considered nourishment."

"You didn't complain when you used to feed on canned food exclusively."

Treg shook his head and sighed like he had done a martyr's sacrifice getting a job already, and now Martin wanted him to face the titanic task of cooking something with nutrients, vitamins and real-food stuff. Martin had to repress a chuckle at his pantomime.

"I thought you wanted to start running because you wanted to be fit and healthy."

"I run because a gym's too expensive and no one charges you for running in the streets. Yet...I just can't resist. I know it's bad; but it tastes sooo good! The greens, the seeds, the legumes, that's so boring! So sad! Just look at the package! No package! No smiling mascots!"

Now Martin couldn't help chuckling. A big mistake, because Treg saw he had his complicity and thus this became a lost battle. Oh, well. Martin crossed his arms, making himself comfortable. "Well, alright, obstruct my arteries…Because I'm not cooking all week, oh no."

"My poor husband, he works sooooo much." Treg said, getting up to caress his hairy cheek and speak to him with a fish face. Martin didn't look at him but smiled.

"You are a spoiled brat, did you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me and you know it."

And they continued to watch the television in silence.

"What's up, smiles?"

"Ah, hi, Sheldon."

Sheldon had known Ben for nearly four years and he was sure he had never seen him smile, not even once. He definitely never smiled while saying hello to him or the other neighbors, not even to Kath, and every male in town smiled at Kath because she was probably the most gorgeous woman in the whole town, in the county, even. For a long time, Sheldon had wondered if Ben hated him for a reason unknown to him, but as time passed he realized that it was nothing personal. Ben was simply a sourpuss douche. One of those people who don't know what fun is, have never experienced it and, if given freedom, will prevent everyone else from experiencing it. A real jerk, in Sheldon's opinion.

So the young black man forgot about him, having done the polite thing, and walked to the house at his left, one which such a lovely decoration it could have only been inhabited by a young woman. Kath was already back from work, he heard music inside as he approached. Not that he spied on her—he just...knew her moves...casually...as all neighbors do, of course...

He rang and waited, looking at the sky. It had been a very grey day, so it was getting dark pretty quick as the day passed. Kath opened the door. It was funny how pretty she looked when she had her blond hair tied carelessly and wore a tracksuit.

"Here, your screwdriver. Thanks."

"Ah, good to see you didn't break this one too." Kath smirked, taking the tool.

"It's much easier when you have tutorials."

"Yeah…So, how's life treating you?" Kath asked, leaning against the frame of the door and crossing her arms.

"They officially laid me off today."

"Really? I'm sorry..."

"Nah, it's fine. I hated working in that place, I didn't know for how long I would have put up with my boss and his antics. Anyway, I've already had a very promising interview, so…"

"That's great."

"What about you?"

"Me? ...Nothing."

Kath was looking so, so nice...She was one of those girls who didn't want any reminders of how pretty she was, but Sheldon felt daring this day, so he didn't let the conversation die. He cleared his throat and said:

"Well, time to go home. I rented a movie; a horror one. They say it's sooo bad. I got a big box of popcorn and a big bottle of soda. It's going to be great. Just...It isn't fun to watch bad movies if there's no one to comment them with. If you're free, maybe you'd like...to...?"

Kath didn't even have the time to consider the offer which was now becoming clear when a faint howl, barely recognizable as her name, was heard from inside the house.

"Don't move, Mom, I'm coming!" Kath shouted, then looked back at Sheldon. "I would like to, really, but my mom had a shot of chemo today and she's not feeling alright. I need to..."

"Oh. Sure. I understand."

"Maybe another day..." Kath said, but not even she believed her own words. She knew that this 'another day' when her mother didn't need her would never come.

"Another day, sure. Well...See ya."

"Enjoy your bad movie."

Kath closed the door and Sheldon walked away. When he looked up at the sky, he found it seemed like it was going to unleash a terrible storm soon but he wasn't in a hurry. He knew that was not going to happen. Just like Kath watching movies with him.

The whole town seemed to have given up on rainstorms like they had given up on everything: always expecting something and never getting it had made them give up all expectations they could have had.

Chapter Text

Sheriff Warren and his right hand Luc got out of the car to find the man exactly where the woman had seen him.

"Good night, sir." Warren approached him with a gentle nod, his hands resting on the belt which could hardly contain his fat belly. "Is there a problem?"

The man had such a round and bald head he looked like a bowling ball, black as the night sky. His eyes were very big, green and they were very open, giving him a deranged look. He always wore white gloves, which he kept very clean, as if, even with this protection, he was hesitant to touch much. His whole person looked pretty tidy, formal, clean; he was, in sum, definitely sane enough to take care of himself and his appearance—but he still had those eyes, and that reputation in town.

"Indeed, sheriff. The problem is I shouldn't be here..."

Quite a reputation indeed.

"Trapped in this flesh prison, in this confounded town, away from my real place..." The man spoke with a ridiculously funny voice, like he had breathed helium.

"And what is your place, sir?" Warren patiently inquired.

The man looked at him wide-eyed. "Mars!" He replied as if it was obvious.

Nor Warren nor Luc were surprised by this response. He wasn't known in Warner Falls as 'The Man from the Stars' for no reason. As long as the town remembered, he insisted that he was a Martian trapped in planet Earth with the appearance of a human being. He used to live in Levitow Street like a normal person until he decided he could not keep living in such a place and found a spot in the woods, where he built himself a kind of observatory with scrap materials he found in the trash. Surely the neighbors' complaints contributed to him moving out. His only company was the dog which was always walking by his side, which he called K-9 and spoke to as if he was a rational being.

He was inoffensive but made some people uncomfortable, so Warren had to be kind but firm.

"Mars, huh?"

"Yes."

Luc was already taking notes for the report. Warren glanced at what he was writing under the dim light of the lamppost: 'FOU—PARLER AVEC UN PSY', underlined. Warren didn't know a word in French but he was sure the final version, translated into English, would be something like 'the man needs a doctor'.

"Mars' quite far away from here." Warren continued, looking at the man again, rubbing his ginger goatee.

"Indeed. You might understand my frustration." The man said. He spoke so calmly, so collected he almost seemed in his sound mind.

"Is that why you were wandering the streets?"

"I needed a walk to clear my mind before I got angry."

"The thing is, the neighbors called us because they took you for a robber, sir."

"A robber?"

"Yes. You know, walking around, doing nothing, at this time of the night..."

"I've got no interest in anyone's possessions."

"This ain't the first time we've talked..." Warren continued.

"No, I remember."

"Last time you didn't carry your ID; how about this time?"

"No."

"A driving license, library card...?"

"No."

"Can you give me a name, at least?"

"My name! I used to have a name I responded to. The documents, degrees and books in my house all had the name of a certain Cian Andrews. Mr. Andrews is how people who thought knew me addressed me as, but that is not my real name. From my birth, I used to be known as Commander X-2—Marvin would be the Earthling equivalent."

"Very well, I'll call you Marvin, then. Well, Marv, I'll just look the other way this time, but be cool, alright? I know it's hard, being so far away from home, but you have to try. It's no one's fault."

"It's someone's fault, I assure you." The so-called Marvin muttered. "Cool? I am trapped with people who are deep into a lie, and lucidity is more of a curse than this dreadful condition I find myself in..."

"It'll be alright, you'll see. You know the song: Things are never black as they are painted."

"Yes, it will be alright..." The Man from the Stars muttered, grabbing his dog's collar so he followed him. "...when I go back to Mars and blow this planet up..."

"Why would you do such thing?" Warren couldn't help smiling.

The man stared back at him before turning around and calmly saying: "It obstructs my view of Venus."

Warren let the man go and then left himself along with his partner.

"A man from Mars..." Luc said as they made their way back to the car. "It reminds me of a joke Victor told me the other day. He found it on a book and found it hilarious. He asked me: 'Dad, what is further? Paris or the Moon?'. I said the Moon, of course, and he told me: 'No, no, but dad, can you see Paris from the window?."

Warren chuckled. "What a charming little man. How old is he now? Six?"

"Five. He turned five last January."

"We'd do well putting this man into an asylum before something happens. Not that I fear he hurts someone. You talk to him and see he's mostly coherent, polite and harmless. But he does look completely deranged and someone might take him for a threat and push his buttons, or hurt him."

Warren paused, starting the engine, and Luc took the chance to mutter.

"It'd be a pity, though. Madmen like these bring this town a bit of excitement. I'm glad we've got a very low crime rate, but...It is very calm here...Very, very calm..."

"Indeed." Warren turned his eyes to his partner just for a second, before focusing on the road again. "Do you miss the way things used to be back in France? And don't say no, because I know you do."

"Nah."

"You sure?"

"It was exciting, dangerous too. I liked it before, when I was on my own, but after meeting Sylvia and having the kids..."

"Yeah. I guess being in Mali, Syria and Sahara hits different when you've got a family."

Luc glanced through the copilot's window. "It can be too calm, but I prefer my kids to grow up in a boring place..."

"Exactly. We shouldn't complain."

And so they didn't.

The Man from the Stars, or Marvin, or Cian, kept walking alone in a desert street. Everyone else was sleeping. Above his head were the stars, shining bright since there was barely any light in that small town to shadow them. The man raised his head to them and sighed.

"It looks so close, yet so far away..." He said, slightly turning his head towards his dog. "But fear not, K-9. We will find the way out..."

His dog glanced at him not showing signs of having understood a word he said, but just reacting to that sudden noise he made. It seemed he barely had any intelligence in that form. The man felt like his own brain was not in his full potential.

How dreadful...

...How lonely...

"...We will find a way..." He repeated, more to himself than to K-9.

He suddenly stopped, having heard a sound.

He stopped and listened. Then, he saw him. A man in his thirties, who was taking the trash out in his pajamas (surely he knew there was no one in the streets and didn't mind about his messy looks). The Man from the Stars saw him look around on guard, almost with fear, and make his way back into his house quickly, as if he feared the creatures of the night that lurked in the dark would pounce on him. Sheldon was surely regretting having rented that stupid horror movie, because it was almost two in the morning and he was wide awake.

The other man froze when he saw him glance around.

It couldn't be. His eyes, the expressions...He was surely different, but...Could it be him?

He had come across several people he had known once, but none of them knew who he was. But he had been looking for this one for a long, long time, and just when he was starting to believe he was not in this town...

Something inside him told him that man was the one he had been looking for. His instinct was something that had not failed him to the date, so he let the idea take over his mind. He got increasingly anxious from the very moment he let the thought in.

He...there was no way he wouldn't recognize him...

He doubted so much and for so long he gave Sheldon time to go back home, so when he saw the door close, he darted towards it. Sheldon jumped when he found someone hitting the door open and trying to get in.

"You!" A strange voice suddenly said. A couple of big, green eyes fixed on him.

"Whoa! Who are you?! What are you doing?!" Sheldon exclaimed.

"It's you! Daffy Duck!"

"I did nothing for you to insult me, man, try next door!"

"No! I am not insulting you! You are Daffy Duck! You look much different in flesh and bone but it's you!"

Sheldon tried to push the door closed but the other had much more strength than him and burst it open. Panting, the Martian walked towards him.

"I know it is you..." He muttered.

"Hey, get out of my house!" Sheldon said, threatening him with the first thing he could grab: the remote.

"I am different than you remember, too, but I'm still the same...Sure you must remember me...Commander X-2! Planet X, Martians...?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, out!"

"You couldn't have forgotten everything! Not you!" As seconds passed the intruder seemed more and more disturbed. Sheldon looked around trying to find a way out.

Luckily for him, the noise had awoken the neighbors. Kath was calling the police as they spoke, Mrs. Reese peeping through the window by her side in the meantime.

"You couldn't have forgotten me...Don't you remember? Duck Dodgers! You were so proud of that role...!" The man kept babbling and approaching. Sheldon ended up pressed against the wall, that man grabbing him by the collar. "You couldn't have forgotten everything like the others!"

"I don't know what the hell you are saying, dude!"

"Listen! I know we were not precisely friends, I know I shot you in the face many, many times, but it was all in the script, it was never something personal! You've got to listen to me! Surely you can snap out of this if you try, being the screwiest of us all! You must see! We don't belong here! No one here is what they seem! We are trapped in this dark reality and all of us will perish in this dreadful condition if we don't do something!"

Fortunately for Sheldon too, the police patrol wasn't much further from the house when they got the call. Luc ran into the house and pinned the man to the floor.

"Stop it now!" He shouted, since the Man from the Stars was struggling. K-9 started barking but didn't seem to try to attack to defend his owner.

"Release me!"

Warren came in and approached Sheldon. "Are you alright?"

Sheldon groaned. "Yeah..."

"Do you need an ambulance? Are you hurt?"

"No, it's okay..."

"I demand you that you release me at this very instant!" The intruder cried, glaring at all of them. "You don't know what you are doing!"

"You are under arrest for assault and trespassing. I trusted you, son, and you betrayed my trust..." Warren said.

The Man from the Stars seemed to recover his composure as Luc dragged him out of the house. Realization that it was useless to try hit him. There was nothing he could do. He was shouting in the desert, talking to a wall. He could do nothing to convince the people around him.

His supposition was terribly wrong. Sheldon was just like the others.

His eyes were still fixed on him when he spoke his final words before being taken away:

"You are living a lie, all of you..."

Kath approached, her mother watching everything from the door frame, and felt a shiver when that man passed by her side on her way to the neighbor's house.

"Are you sure you don't want to report?"

"Nah, it's enough you took him away."

After a few words, a few photos and a few verifications, Warren wished the two of them a good night and got into the car, disappearing in the dark of the night. Kath was left alone with Sheldon.

"Who was that?" She asked.

"No idea! He said something about being a Martian, and he called me...I don't know...He said I knew him, and then he started talking nonsense..." Sheldon explained, sitting on the sofa with a shocked expression. "A real loon...By God, he took me by surprise..."

"Are you sure you are alright? Don't you want to spend the night with us?"

"No, it's okay. I think the door's fine: I'll just lock it well tonight..." Sheldon allowed himself to draw a smile. He wasn't going to sleep anyway, but after this...after this he would not sleep a wink!

"We heard a lot of noise! I'm so glad you're okay..." Kath sighed. "And I thought nothing ever happened in this town!"

"It would have been much better if it hadn't happened to me..." Sheldon crossed his arms.

Another neighbor had seen everything from the window of the kitchen. Ben had heard the noise even before Kath and her mother, but something kept him from grabbing the phone. Instead, he stayed there, watching, listening, his heart racing. Now that everything was alright, he had no intention of seeing Kath worrying about Sheldon, and so walked away from the curtains he was hiding among and went back to bed. He had to work tomorrow...

Chapter Text

There was no one in town who didn't know Ol' Billy—if that was his real name—, so it was common knowledge that he never was a bad man. He had lots of problems, mostly in the head, but he wasn't a bad man at all. He was hairy like a bear and always wore a thick, old jacket, no matter how hot the day was (a way to make sure he would always have a coat if he ever needed it, he once explained). Good Ol' Billy could always be found among Stalling Square and Brown Lane; it was very rare that he wandered somewhere else. He lived thanks to the charity of the neighbors, and there were times when he refused help for absurd reasons and there was no way to convince him to change his mind. Sometimes he suffered outbreaks, when he started shouting incoherent things, broke into song, but no one was scared of him, not even children. Billy was a good man who paid the attentions he was given offering himself to be is benefactor's ears, their guardian—the most bizarre services he could come up with. Some said he was a veteran who had seen very bad stuff in Afghanistan; others believed he was a descendant from Eric P. Warner, founder of the city in 1875, fallen from grace; some said he used to work in that textile factory they closed in the 90s because of the toxic vapors employees had to breathe. In any case, as far as people remembered, he had always been in town. He at some point in history, he had walked and walked and ended up in Warner Falls, and settled there because there was nowhere else to go—like everyone else.

He wasn't a man the neighbors should worry about, it was obvious that he didn't mean to hurt Mrs. Bookstaver. He just didn't know how to behave at times.

Mrs. Bookstaver worked at the local cafe and approached that morning to give Billy a coffee and a doughnut so he didn't go through the day with his stomach empty. She was a firm Christian and believed one had to take care of their neighbor as if they were a relative. She also had a strict conviction concerning physical contact and decency. According to her report, she found Ol' Billy relieving himself against the wall. That could have earned him a fine, but neither the sheriff had the heart to charge a homeless nor she wanted to denounce it. The thing was that, when she called him, Billy didn't put his pants up. His mind probably couldn't do two things at the same time. He was too busy seeing that he got breakfast to notice he was naked waist-down. Mrs. Bookstaver tried to help him see the situation, which was making her feel extremely embarrassed, but Billy was blinded by the doughnut and the cup of coffee and, smiling, mumbling nonsense, approached to give her a hug. Mrs. Bookstaver considered the homeless to be her neighbors but didn't let them take certain freedoms, and she certainly didn't find the idea of being hugged by a man who smelt like a thousand devils and was half-naked much appealing. She rose her voice. Poor Ol' Billy didn't understand her reaction, couldn't see what he was doing wrong, and kept approaching. To sum things up, when Luc showed up, she was slapping him and he was confused to see his affectionate hug was not well-received. Taking him away was a bit of an act of mercy.

He would not spend too much time in there, everyone assumed. Mrs. Bookstaver just needed a moment to calm down, understand everything from that poor man's point of view and drop all accusations of indecent exposure.

The Man from the Stars wouldn't, either.

Ol' Billy looked with much curiosity at the man who was brought to jail during the night. Even though the Man from the Stars had calmed down and wasn't speaking, the mutterings and the metallic doors opening and closing made a noise that woke him up. He stood up from the bench he had been sleeping on and approached as much as he could, clinging onto the bars, to watch the newcomer. They had been put in there for similar reasons, but their looks couldn't have been any more different; the cleanliness of one made a big contrast with his dirt and stench.

Probably that was one of the reasons why Billy was very interested in him, and the Man from the Stars turned his eyes to him.

"Tasmanian Devil..." He said.

The police officers who would watch the prisoners during the night would swear this was the only thing he said. He just took a seat, closed his eyes and did nothing in the whole night but sit and wait for...who knew. But those words seemed to cause a great impression on Ol' Billy. They saw him look at the man with a frown, try to see him from his cell using very different and complicated postures, before giving up and, with this expression of astonishment on his face, sitting on the floor and meditate in silence for the whole night as well.

"Benny..."

Ben blinked. It took him a moment to realize that he had been standing in front of the copy machine for several minutes after printing what he had to. And it took him another while to remember that there was only one person in the whole world who called him Benny. He turned his head to his left to find Larry standing in there, smiling at him.

That wide, wrinkled smile which meant nothing good.

"Good to see you're not dead." Larry chuckled. Before Ben could say anything, he added: "Is the report ready?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, I need it now."

"I'll get to it when I finish this."

"There's three days to do it. What have you been doing? Stare at the wall? I know! Allington's skirt!" And he laughed again, 'Ohhohohohoho!'.

"Sorry." The lack of real regret in Ben's voice, how mechanic it was, could have made anyone sour, but Larry was too dumb to notice such 'subtleties'.

"You'd better not, I'm risking my neck here. Oh, by the way, it's Brian's birthday and he brought a cake, in case you want some." Was all Larry said before walking away.

Ben huffed and examined what he had just printed. Fine, everything was wrong and he had to start again.

"Well, if you're in such a hurry, you could have done your task yourself!", he wanted to turn around and say, but when he looked, Larry had already disappeared. There he was, chatting with Brian, who didn't seem to mind about that oh so important report. He was chatting with a big group of ass-lickers, who laughed at all of his jokes and acted like he was discovering America with his remarks. He had no right to hold it against him anyway. After all, he had said yes. He had to face the consequences of that answer.

"No offense, Ben, but you look awful." Oswald said from his desk. Ben noticed he wore new glasses but they still made him look like he was a time-traveler from the 40s.

This was one of his attempts to start a conversation with him, the shy guy from the office. Perhaps not the best, but he always tried his hardest, used anything he could come up with to see if he could get a word or, even better, two words from him.

Another futile attempt. Just like always, Ben barely glanced at him before going back to his desk without having opened his lips.

Oswald didn't take this badly. He would try again in another occasion. This was just the confirmation that the weekend had not being kind on him.

Ben stopped before turning on the screen of his computer to watch himself in the dark reflection. It was true that he didn't look precisely like a rose.

He had not rested well that night. The incident at the neighbor's house woke him up and he wasn't able to go back to sleep until very late.

He suspected that it was not the worry about Sheldon's well-being or his own security, but seeing Kath running to see if he was alright.

He tried not to think about it. He didn't remember he had bought a cup of coffee, and found that it had already gone cold when he gave it a sip. It wasn't definitely a good morning for him, and as long as he thought about Sheldon he was sure it wouldn't get better. The best thing he could do for his own sake was to forget it, but it was impossible to ignore what he had seen.

Sheldon was what many people considered a loser. He never asked but he had ears and he heard what people muttered...He apparently had it hard to keep a job and a girlfriend, his parents kicked him out as soon as he reached adulthood, now he was the target of madmen too. Still, Kath would always talk to him, worried about him, her mother shared all desserts she made with him...Ben, on the other hand, had been raised in Warner Falls, him and Kath were classmates during their middle school years, and he had only got to make her say 'hello' from time to time to him...

What a lucky bastard Sheldon was...Kath was the girl every straight man in America would have loved to have, even just as a friend...

Sipping his cold coffee, Ben sighed silently, not to attract Oswald's attention again, not to ruin Brian's fun.

All the exciting things in life were something that happened to others. He was the guy who took care of their responsibilities while they were living them.

Among all the blue, a bright white spot. It was difficult for Luc not to turn his eyes and watch. A petite lady with long raven hair and lively eyes which wandered around, looking for someone. She found that someone and a wide smile grew on her face and waved her arm. For a second, Luc thought she was addressing him. Then, he realized she was talking to Wyatt Gansburg, the cadet.

"Hey, babe, whatcha doing here?" He smiled, kissing her on the lips.

"You left your food at home." She replied, handing him a lunch box.

"Oh jeez, I forgot. Man, I got myself the best girl in the world. Thanks."

"You are always forgetting everything. Rather than your girl, I'm your momma." She chuckled.

"My little momma..." Wyatt smirked, and kissed her again.

So sappy, like all young couples...It made Luc smile as he watched them.

"If we bother you, we'll leave you sweethearts alone." Warren intervened, stepping forward with his arms crossed and showing a side smile as well.

"Sorry, Sheriff." Wyatt blushed and quickly returned to his activities, which that day were related to the office.

"And you, lady, I am going to forbid you from coming here. You distract the department." Warren then addressed the girl.

Instead of feeling ashamed, the girl giggled.

"Oh, Warren, did I do something wrong?" She replied.

"Looking ravishing, that's it." Letting out a soft chuckle, Warren uncrossed his arms to embrace her. He then made a sign to Luc for him to approach. "Hey, Frenchie, come here for a second. Remember my friend Paul, the councilman? This is the youngest of his daughters, Julie."

Luc bowed his head to her in a gentlemanly way, and she muttered a hello.

"Isn't she good-looking? She took after her mom, Molly. I tried, but in the end she chose Paul. To think that now I could be bragging about this beauty!"

"Careful, Warren. Beware the pretty ones. They can do anything they want with us. Look at you: she's got you drooling like you were her own father already." Luc smirked, an eyebrow raised.

"Heh, you got me there. I've known her since forever, her father is like a brother to me, of course I love this little sunbeam like she was my own niece." Warren pinched Julie's cheek affectionately, making her giggling.

"Goodness, I'd better be leaving, before you kill me with your flattering! I just wanted to make sure Wyatt was not starving today."

"He's lucky to have you. Between us, your boyfriend's got the attention span of a hummingbird on -."

At that moment, a loud roar made everyone in the station go quiet. Officer Preston, in charge of the prisoners, ran out.

"Sheriff, you need to see this! Something's up with Ol' Billy!"

Warren and Luc quickly ran to see what was going on. Julie couldn't resist the curiosity and followed them.

Billy was gripping the bars and shaking them with all his might while letting out the loudest snarls he could. They sounded so inhuman it almost seemed incredible they came from the throat of a man. The Man from the Stars was in the next cell, but he didn't open his eyes or left his meditative posture in a corner to look at the fuss going on right next to him. Julie, on the other hand, felt so scared that she had the unconscious reaction of hiding behind Warren.

"It all happened very suddenly, I don't know what happened." Preston told the sheriff. "He was just sitting there, like he did after the other guy talked to him, then he started shouting and shaking, and when I approached to ask him what the matter was, he scratched me."

"This is a big fit." Warren muttered with his hands on his hips. Then turned towards Preston and gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

The officer's uniform was a mess: two buttons were missing and Billy's nails had scratched through the fabric. The wound still bled.

"I am fine. It is nothing." He turned towards the cage and gazed at the man with no trace of grudge in his eyes, but immense pity.

"Pauvre Billy…" Luc whispered, shaking his head.

"Call a doctor. You know of what kind. Perhaps he can tell us if there's something to worry about. I've never seen him this violent." Preston nodded and quickly walked away. Warren then turned to Julie. "You'd better leave, kid. We've got some...interesting guests today."

Julie just silently nodded and, muttering a goodbye, she quickly left. She passed by Luc's side and they exchanged a brief look.

"I told you, didn't I tell you? I said one of these days something like this would happen, but no, no one listens to me. Just leave that guy in the streets, with whatever collection of mental sicknesses he got. Let's pray he doesn't have HIV or some crap." Warren complained out loud.

"It's not his fault." Luc judged.

"No, of course not." Warren nodded.

For one second his eyes and Billy's met. A trickle of drool ran down the caged's man chin and fell to the floor, and he grunted. 'A devil', Warren thought...As if the devil had possessed him...

And he had been so calm until the Man from the Stars came along...

His gaze met the Man from the Stars, who was still against the wall, just waiting, just listening, not doing a thing. Then, he opened his eyes and looked back at him. Warren frowned.

"What did you say to him?" He asked him.

The Martian replied very calmly:

"Just the truth, Sheriff."

Warren frowned a little bit more then walked out of the room, Luc following him.

"I'll ask the doctor to examine that guy too. I don't like him one bit." He loudly sighed through the nose, then changed his voice tone. "Up for some coffee, Luc?"

"Of course! It's been a hell of a morning and it just started. Also, you promised to tell me what happened with Taylor Jones." Luc answered.

"Nothing happened in the end, really." Warren shrugged. "The guy's a moron, that's all. He acts like if I have something against him, and I'm just doing my job. I swear that if he touches my car, as he said he would, he will see. Oh, he will see!" Warren sniffed and a turn his head towards Wyatt. "Wyatt, watch the prisoners while I'm away. And when I say watch them, I mean don't take your eyes off them."

The cadet was sure this was the punishment for allowing his girlfriend into a restricted zone or something like that. He breathed deep and walked into the room where the cells were, reminding himself that there were bars between those loons and him.

The black guy was disturbing enough with his Hannibal Lecter-like mutism, but Billy roared at him and he started to wonder obsessively if those bars were really safe.

"What's the matter, friend?"

Joey turned his head slowly towards José.

"Hm?"

"You didn't listen to a single word I've been saying, did you?" José smiled.

"I...Oh, sorry, I'm..." Joey babbled.

"I knew it. Come on, tell me what you're thinking."

Joey hesitated. "...No, it's stupid..."

"It doesn't matter. Shoot."

Joey took deep air. "The thing is, I think I'm going mad. Tonight, you know what happened? There was me, and a cat, an…an owl with glasses and two doggies, and we were singing. Something about a hat, I remember—Oh, I forgot to mention, I was a pig. And I ask myself when I wake up: what does that mean? That has to mean something. So I look up one of those books about the interpretation of dreams and I see dreaming with these animals is a good sign, like, protection, good friends, but I don't think…Because they were singing, and they were dressed. That has to mean something special. But it could also mean that I'm seeing myself fat like a pig and my subconscious is telling me I should lose weight or all the contrary, just learn to love my size, no matter what everyone says..."

"Nonsense. Dreams don't mean a thing. They are just…dreams! Garbage the brain stores, I read it once in a magazine. They have no sense." That was José's simple diagnosis.

"Really? You Mexicans know a lot about occultism, maybe you could ask someone…?"

José smiled and shook his head.

"I don't know…I know it's stupid but I've been thinking about it the whole morning." Joey sighed.

"I have already said it to you and I repeat it again: you are just stressed."

"Stressed? Stressed...Yeah...Yeah, it could be. The meetings, the bureaucracy...Maybe my brain's trying to telling me to slow down and has created these fantasies to distract itself..."

"The brain is a very amazing machine." José nodded.

"I guess I could use some vacations..."

"Sure you do! I have never seen a politician work as much as you do. You deserve a rest."

"But now..."

"Yes, now. Don't even think about it. Go away from here for some weeks, see new places, forget about work. Just for a week or two. Yes? Before you get sick."

"Oh, José, what would I do without you? You should have been running this place." Joey smiled.

"I am pretty happy where I am, but thanks." José smiled, showing his teeth, with big incisors.

Joey gave him a thankful embrace and was about to sip his coffee when he stopped when his lips were almost touching the mug.

"Oh! I've been talking about me all the time and I didn't ask you about your sister! Is she alright?"

"Ah, yes, she's out of the hospital now, she called me yesterday. Thanks for asking."

"So everything is okay?"

"Sí, sí. Well, I found out everybody's friend with my sister, but...That's it, that's all. Don't you worry. What did I tell you?"

"I know. I just have this feeling, you know? Like..." Seeing José's disapproving expression, he shook his head. "But I grab that worry, crumple it and throw it in the trash can..."

José nodded, satisfied.

It was one of those dreams which seemed more real than reality itself. Not that it was the first time Martin had one of those, but this one was peculiar. When he got up, he served himself a cup of coffee and remained quiet and still for long, thinking exclusively about it.

He forgot most of it when he woke up, but he could remember a desert. A red, hot desert, the Californian type. And the feelings. That was the most realistic part of the dream. After waking up he could still feel the frustration, the anger—the hunger…Was it? Oh, he had felt so many different things at once that it was difficult to describe it with precision.

He looked around him. That kitchen felt so strange. The coffee he was tasting. His own skin. It was that uncomfortable sensation of feeling lost and unsettled, and again it was useless to try to describe it.

When Treg snapped his fingers in front of him, Martin practically jumped in his seat, making his friend laugh.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." Treg smiled. Muffins in hand, he sat by his side. It was very early in the morning and he was already smiling, Martin admired it sincerely.

"I wasn't sleepy." Martin rubbed his temple. "I was just thinking."

"Ah, sure. Brainiacs gonna think." Treg chuckled and ate a muffin on almost one single bite, and, of course, he started coughing.

"Whatever you say." Martin sighed.

"I'm fine, thanks, don't worry about me." Treg complained once he was able to breath again. Soon he recovered his mocking smile. "Were you thinking about a girl? That gal from The Wheel of Fortune? Is she from around here?"

"I wasn't thinking of any female, Treg." Martin very patiently said.

"Don't tell me you're into guys! Yeah, well, it wouldn't surprise me. Anyway, boy or girl, go after them. You're getting old, your chances are getting weaker, and it might be an incentive for you to get a shower. Just prove me you're a human being who's excited about something that's not scrap metal and cars."

Martin rolled his eyes and smiled, not bothering to reply.

"I once dated a girl who had a very strict dad. The guy hated me, he said pretty nasty things about me, like I dyed my hair like a faggot, I was a lazy bum—where's the coffee?"

Martin pointed at his own mug.

"I'll make some, then. So, yeah, I thought the best revenge was to become his son-in-law and make out in his spot in the sofa. It was all fun and games until the guy caught us and almost killed me with his car. What a pity you were in, I don't know, Alabama or lost in Route 66. You would have loved to see my face."

Treg kept talking but Martin wasn't listening anymore. Once Treg started with his verbal diarrhea he never stopped and it could be really annoying. Perhaps that was the reason why he had no friends in Warner Falls and had to recur to him in order to have someone to listen to him, like he had nothing better to to than listen to his nonsense. Besides, for the first time, Martin was interested in Treg's appearance.

Treg was quite slim. His skin was as white as milk, Martin knew he had to put a lot of sunscreen on in summer. His hair had been black originally, but he had been dying it since he was sixteen with the oddest colors he could find; after trying some shades of purple, he had kept it blue, matching his eyes; now it was long enough to tie it in a ponytail. He had a long neck and smelt curious.

…Did he?

Martin had never considered his companion's smell until that moment. Treg had just come out of bed, hadn't been making any kind of effort yet, so he didn't smell of sweat precisely. But he could still smell him with intensity. It was a funny odor, not like anything he had perceived before. He didn't find it disgusting at all.

What he didn't notice was that his mouth, which was dry just a moment ago, started salivating excessively.

"Hey, Earth calling Martin."

"Hm?"

"I'm asking you if you need something from the grocery store."

"No."

"Alright. Just asking, since I'll be going after my shift. So you don't say I am a freeloader."

Martin glanced at his watch and finished his coffee quickly. He looked at Treg from the corner of his eye and, again, he found no words to describe what he felt looking at him.

Chapter Text

Isadore went back to work and Mrs. Hart went back to her usual solitude. To her usual nothing.

She went to the kitchen— she didn't need to cook lunch: Izzy had already filled the fridge with dishes and lunch boxes with the menu for the whole week. She then inspected the surfaces of the furniture—not a little speck of dirt had survived his cleaning. Was there any trash to take out?—no: Izzy had already taken care of that. Perhaps he left his bedroom untidy, since he always went to work in a hurry?—oh, it seemed not, for everything was in its place and the bed was perfectly made.

The floor? So clean that one could eat on it. The pantry? Full. The laundry? Already dry, folded and in its place.

Izzy had left her nothing to do...

He probably thought he was doing his grandmother a favor, but he had actually stripped her from something close to a purpose. What to do now until he came back from work? What was she supposed to do all alone at home? Just sit in front of the television and let the hours pass by? No! Not her! She had never been that lazy! She liked movement, excitement, feeling useful! So she guessed she would go back to the bedspread she was sewing. It seemed, as long as Isadore was around, she would have plenty of time to make as many as she liked...

Or maybe not. Like it happened the previous day, it took her eyes just a few minutes to find the outside world more interesting. Never mind her efforts, they looked through the window instead. Most concretely, at the Murphies' lawn.

There he was, once again. Little Pip. And once more, he was all alone.

After some minutes of futile struggle, Mrs. Hart surrendered to the truth: she was not paying attention to her work. Since it was so, there was no reason to keep lying to herself and acting like she wanted to do something she didn't. She left it all aside and told herself she would go to church and ask Father Stewart if he needed help with the parish's charity activities, the children who received classes or anything, anything at all, since the sky showed no signs of raining any way soon and her Izzy wasn't there to worry about her.

It was not her intention to end up stopping by the neighbors' door. Or maybe it was from the beginning. Either way, the way to the Main Street necessarily implied passing by, and Mrs. Hart couldn't resist peeping. Pip was lying on his stomach on the grass, playing with a couple of monochrome plastic toys, of a well-dressed boy and a cat wearing overalls. He was muttering the dialogues like he wanted no one but himself to hear what they were saying.

Upon noticing that he wasn't alone, the boy rose his head. Mrs. Hart was shook then by the sight of the bluest eyes she had ever seen, open wide in surprise.

"Hello." Words escaped from her mouth.

"Hi." Pip timidly replied.

A little pause. "Are those Beans and Buddy?"

Pip turned his eyes at his toys like he wanted to be sure the old lady was talking about them. "Yes."

After getting his implicit permission, Mrs. Hart took the figures and looked at them closely, from different angles.

"I used to watch their cartoons when I was your age." She said. "Not many could afford having a television at home at that time; we went to the cinema to watch them. My father used to take me on the weekends."

She gave them back to Pip and he caressed them distractedly. "I watch them on TV." He said. "My Dad wouldn't take me to the cinema anyway."

"How so?"

"He's always working. He's a sales...uh...sales m...sales manager! Yeah. He's always visiting people and on the phone. He's never got the time."

"And your mother?"

"She's out of the house all day too, doing stuff she thinks is important. The kindergarten children see her more than I do."

"Don't you have friends to go with?"

"Sure, there's Carman and Nathan, and Sean too, I guess, but they're out of town during the summer."

"That's too bad."

Pip shrugged, like he was used to it, even if he didn't like it. Then he became more timid, like he realized he had spoken too much.

"Are you afraid to talk to strangers?" Mrs. Hart tried to guess his change of attitude. "I've known you since you were born. I do not intend to hurt you."

"I know you wouldn't. And I know I've seen you before..."

"I guess we old ladies are just a bunch of nosy mummies."

"You're not!" Pip stood up quickly, like fearing he had somehow called her that. "But...please don't tell Mom and Dad..."

"Of course. Everything you've told me is between us. Not having anyone to talk to about the things that happen to us can feel very bad, don't you think?"

Pip nodded silently.

"If it makes you feel better..." Mrs. Hart smiled, "I am alone most of the time, but, unlike you, I've got no toys to kill time with, and my grandson Izzy is too old to watch cartoons."

"...Maybe you'd like to watch them with me?"

That offer took Mrs. Hart by surprise. She gazed at Pip for long and saw he was serious.

A gentle smile grew on her face.

"You are such a nice boy, and I would love to." She finally replied.

He smiled back at her. It was probably the first time she had ever seen this shy boy smile, and oh, did he look like a cherub when he did so. That something she had felt inside before, it returned with greater intensity. What she didn't know, because it was still too soon for Pip to confess, was that he felt the exact same thing when he looked at her.

Was it possible to feel such a strong feeling of comfort with someone one just got acquainted with?

Kath was cleaning the windows when Ben returned from work. They exchanged a brief look before Ben disappeared inside his home. Kath wished he had said something to her, just hello, or even that he had stared at how well her sport top fitted her. Not that she liked men to drool like wolves in her presence, but it would have meant he was alive, felt something, had blood running through his veins. It was scary, how much of a robot he looked. He seemed to live to work, to just exist—like a chair or a lettuce. Did he even have a moment of fun, did a little mischief from time to time, had dreams?

Maybe not...Maybe that was why he stayed there, in Warner Falls, after graduating...

She looked at her own reflection on the glass. Look who was talking!

Before she could start with the usual ruminations, a certain sound distracted her. A sound so familiar, which brought so many good memories it attracted her full attention. She left her chores and walked out of the house to find Sheldon dunking in the cheap mini basketball hoop he had installed many, many years ago above the door of his garage, never to use it again.

"Uhm, hey."

She walked to his encounter, her hands inside of her pockets.

"Wanna join me? One to one, come on." Sheldon offered her, a big grin growing on her face, bouncing the ball defiantly. "Come on, have you forgotten?"

Of course she hadn't. In fact...she would often think about it.

Kath nodded and they played for a while. Kath completely kicked his ass, scoring seven times, while Sheldon never got to keep the ball for more than three seconds. But he tried. No one could say he didn't try.

"Gee, what have you had for breakfast?" Kath asked, stopping to wipe the sweat running down her forehead.

"Just the usual." Sheldon smiled.

"Did you get good news or something? Got that job? A girlfriend? Spit it out."

"No, nothing at all. But I don't know. I feel full of energy."

"I can tell. Mind if you share some?"

They both sat at Kath's door. "I don't know. It's quite strange, actually. I haven't been sleeping much lately. Just an hour from time to time. But I feel...full of energy. I've never felt like this before, like...if I don't run around and do a thousand things at the same time, I'm gonna burst!"

"Maybe you're prepared to fight, after that guy broke into your house and shouted at you in the face?"

"Hmm..."

"Your brain might be worried he comes back or something like that happens and is keeping you alert."

"That might be it...I am still thinking of what that guy told me. I thought I didn't understand a word he said, but I've got some of it here, in my head, like a broken record."

"What?"

"...I don't know. I dream about it, but when I wake up, it's all gone. I remembered I dreamed about something exciting, my heart's still pumping like mad when I get up, but I try to remember what it was actually about and...poof!"

"Then it's nothing worth remembering."

Sheldon gazed at the ball, took it in his hands, watched it like there was something interesting about it.

"...The thing is, that was the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me...ever...And it's really sad...And I wonder...is this what life is supposed to be about? Live to work from 9 to 5 to pay the bills, until you grow old, too old to do the things you like, and just expect death to come? Spend day after day trying to make the best of what comes to you?"

"Wow, the lack of sleep has had quite an effect on you..."

"I'm serious, Kath."

The girl sighed and rested her head in her hands. "...And what do you expected life to be? A never-ending carnival? Maybe for some people, but for the great majority...That never happens."

"When I was a kid, I wanted to be in pictures, be a Broadway star...I've been thinking 'hey, that's where I should be, not here'...This feels like the wrong place to be, like...I should be somewhere else...And it's all because of what he said...He insisted we were on...Matrix or something like that. Ever since he appeared, I've been thinking...there must be something more than this...Everything around us...is rubbish..."

"It is, but it may seem like so to you because of everything you are going through now, your firing, the assault... Not that there's a conspiracy going on."

Sheldon paused. He noticed the way she was looking at the ball in his hands.

"You miss it, don't you?" He muttered.

"What?"

"Basketball. They told me you were great at it. Good enough to become a big name of the WNBA, live in a mansion, have your name on cereal boxes, your own brand of sportswear..."

Kath looked away. "I was a kid. When you're a kid, you think you'll get to do all the things that make you happy all the time but..."

Her gaze turned to her house. She hushed to listen attentively—to try to perceive her mother's pleas.

"...You grow up and reality hits you in the face."

She looked away, then added in sotto voice:

"...Well...Sometimes it's the other way round: reality hits you in the face and the pain makes you grow up."

Sheldon replied nothing to that. Kath shook her head.

"You could have made a great showman." She said in a merrier tone, even drew a smile. "The Sheldon Schwimmer Show. Darn, it sounds good."

"I know, right? They don't know what they're missing."

"Just don't think about it. The restlessness will go away with time, when you realize that man is gone and will never bother you again, you will see."

"Yeah, probably."

What was what that guy called him? Daffy Duck? The Daffy Duck Show...That sounded even better to him.

"Billy, hey Billy."

Billy looked at Warren without really looking at him. Was he sniffing him? Anyway, that man looked more like an animal than a person.

"Do you know who I am? I am Warren, remember? The sheriff. You know I want to help you."

Billy's response was a roar, and Warren had to step back to escape from his hands sticking out the bars to catch and scratch him. Well, it was no use. The doctor had said it was just a matter of time he would be back to his senses (a few months at the mental hospital would do wonders, he said), but Billy seemed indefatigable. His throat was even sore from so much snarling and yelling; it had to be painful for him and yet he didn't stop. He didn't sleep, he barely ate...Where did he get that energy from? It was really dreadful.

Warren walked to Luc. "I'm taking care of the Martian. Can you keep an eye on Billy?"

"Bien sûr." The officer nodded.

With that, Warren walked away. Almost at the same time, Julie entered, cautiously, practically hiding behind Luc. She gazed at Billy with fear, the way he looked into space, how he seemed completely animal...

Luc realized she was there and rose his eyebrows.

"How can I help you, mademoiselle?"

"Uhm, hello, Mr..." She took a quick look at the badge on his chest. "Pourcel. I was wondering if Wyatt was around."

"He's patrolling now, I'm afraid."

"Oh. He forgot his lunch again at home."

"Again?" Luc shook his head with a tiny smile, rolling his eyes. "Well, I can take care of that, so you didn't come here for nothing."

"That's very kind from you, sir. Thank you." Julie didn't leave immediately, as she intended. Instead, driven by a powerful curiosity, she pressed her lips and tucked hair behind her ear. "Uhm...Will I offend you if I ask you something?"

"Huh? What is it?" Luc asked, surprised by this sudden question.

"That...silver lock of yours...Uhm...Is it...real? Or did you dye it yourself?"

After a second of thinking, Luc finally realized what she was talking about. That portion of white hair in his black pompadour. Instead of feeling weird, like Julie feared, his face was illuminated with a smile as he ran his hand through it.

"Yes, it is natural, mademoiselle. I never touched it. It is a medical condition, they told me when I was little. Poliosis. The hair does not have pigments of color. My mother has it. My son Maximillian has it."

"It reminds me of..."

"Skunks? Oh, yes. They used to call me 'Monsieur le Putois', 'Mister Skunk,' back in my Army days."

"Oh, people can be so cruel. I think it looks very nice on you. It almost looks like it was intended."

"You are very kind, miss Julie."

"...You were in the Army, did you say?"

"Yes. In the Légion Étrangère to be exact. Uh, the Foreign Legion."

"So you must have seen a lot."

"A lot. Yes."

"How did you end up here, in Warner Falls? Oh, sorry, I am taking too many liberties..."

"I never deny a lady the answers to her questions. And the answer is love. As simple as that."

"She must be a really special lady."

"And Gansburg is a very lucky man, to have someone always having his back and, if I may say so, so pretty as you."

Julie blushed, smiling.

"Hey, Luc, if you're done flirting with the lady, you could gimme a hand here." One of his partners called him.

Him and Julie exchanged a look and now both of them were blushing and chuckling like idiots. Luc tried to tell his partner not to say nonsense, they both had someone, but he ended up mixing English and French in such a way not even he understood himself.

"I really should get going. I don't want you to..." Julie babbled.

"It's alright. I will tell the Sheriff you said hi."

"Please do. Thank you, Mr. Pourcel."

"Just call me Luc."

Julie quickly walked out and Luc followed his partner but turned his head to watch her as she went. Maybe it was the way she wore that dotted skirt and white blouse. Perhaps she had done something to her hair, or put a bit more make-up on. But whatever that was, Luc definitely liked it. It would have distracted him from Billy if he hadn't made himself noticed with constant groans, which could be heard all over the place.

The next cell opened and Warren cocked his head. "You have an appointment, sir."

The Man from the Stars barely reacted.

"With the head doctor, of course..." He muttered, opening his eyes.

They needed to see if it was safe to let him roam the streets, given what his lunacy had driven him to do. Also, the furthest he was from someone as gullible as Ol' Billy, the best.

"If you behave, it shouldn't be that bad. Don't worry, I wouldn't put you in the hands of someone who would hurt you." Warren replied.

The Man from the Stars nodded slowly. Showing no resistance, he stood up and followed the sheriff out.

"Could I ask you a favor, Sheriff?"

"Sure, son."

"My dog will be left alone..."

"Don't worry, we will take care of him."

After a second of doubt, the Man from the Stars nodded.

"Thank you."

He made things so easy, not making a fuss. Warren ended up believing it was all just a bad night. Maybe that fellow took him for something he was not and said something to him that got him off his nerves, confronted his fixations and made him get on defense...He was out of his mind but he was a polite, nice man. He watched him hop into the ambulance docile like a little lamb, and hoped the doctors could fix him. Really. He said good morning and thank you to the driver and he, muffled by his white uniform, including a cap of the same color, saluted him with one hand and drove away.

Cian Andrews, or Commander X-2, or Marvin, sat inside of the vehicle with his hands on his lap, not allowing himself to think too much. Too much thinking was as bad as not thinking at all. It could drive him mad, frustrated. He was determined to protect his awareness at all costs and just see where everything was going.

Since he was not all that distracted he noticed the driver wasn't very good. It was almost as if the ambulance was going on its own.

A shiver ran down his spine, seconds before he felt something touching his foot. It seemed like a small red bar with a...fuse...

TNT, was written on it.

Warren was walking back into the police station when the explosion made him and everyone in the street kiss the pavement. Not a single piece of glass was left intact. A cloud of smoke took over, but he could still clearly see a ball of fire where the ambulance was just a few seconds before.

Chapter Text

Rob, Jesse and Tress Marsh almost joined the local summer camp because their parents had to work all holiday season long, but in the end they stayed home alone. They had shown their parents they were responsible, they could stay at home without supervision from an adult while they were away. Rob was thirteen, so he was old enough to watch his younger siblings and take care of the house. It was time started having responsibilities, Mr. Marsh argued. They gave the oldest child very simple tasks and instructions: keep the door locked, never let strangers in or touch the stove and keep an eye on Jesse and Tress. If something happened, Mrs. Hooper, the neighbor, would be there to help them.

Several weeks passed and the house was still standing and the children unharmed. Everything seemed to be alright. The children were behaving.

So what was the surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Marsh when they got a sudden call from the local police. They rushed out from their jobs to find the piano from the living room slammed against the lawn, the window it had flown from shattered and the three children standing by the officers' side, looking at the disaster they had caused as if they didn't know why they had even thought of doing it.

"D-Dear Lord..." Joey muttered.

The road showed a big black hole right where the ambulance had exploded. There were still police officers around it, with the most varied technological equipment, which should give them a clue of what caused the explosion.

"Who's the victim?" The mayor asked Warren.

"The name's Cian Kenneth Andrews. A biologist or something of the sort. He's published tons of books about the ecosystem of the planet. The crazy genius type, if you ask me. He's pretty known in town because he claimed all the time that he came from Mars, disturbed people with his theories and his hermit-like way of life. He broke into a man's house and attacked him and incited Ol' Billy to go nuts, so we decided it was time that a doctor saw him and ruled if it was safe for him to be among people. He was on his way to DePatie Hospital for a checking."

"What about the driver?"

"That's what I'd like to know. They only found Andrews among the burning remains."

"But someone had to be driving the ambulance."

"True, and I saw someone dressed with a uniform in the driver's seat when Andrews got in; I said hi to him and all, but they only got Andrews out of the vehicle and we found two witnesses who claim that they saw no one driving the ambulance seconds before it exploded."

"Maybe he blew into pi-pieces?"

Joey bit his under lip. What a pretty way to start the day, with an uncontrollable stutter. How it fitted a mayor who was supposed to remain collected in the midst of calamities like this.

"That's what I thought." Warren didn't seem to notice or pay attention to his speech, and just placed his hands on his hips, swelling his chest in a way that made him look like a big rooster. "But it seems he didn't. There was only one person on that ambulance."

Luc was a few steps away from them, talking to a partner. He thanked him and walked to the sheriff and the mayor.

"And the smell...It's horrible..." Joey wrinkled his nose.

"They've found some trace of the explosives." Luc announced. "They think it might be trinitrotoluene."

"There's a mine a few miles away from the town, so..." Warren muttered.

"Is it possible that he could have committed suicide?" Joey asked, speaking slowly from then on to make sure he pronounced his words well.

"A bit soon to talk about that. Let's say attempted suicide, for the moment." Luc pointed out. "The guy's still alive. Barely, but he's among the living. He's critical at the hospital, they've told me. His lower body's gone, third-degree burns... It will be a miracle if he makes it."

"If he believed he came from another planet, maybe he tried to...dispose of his human body..." Joey said.

"Or maybe someone did it for him..." Warren frowned. "That's what I believe, because there are tons of cheap, free, quick, elegant and silent ways to leave this world, more fitting Andrews' personality...But what bugs me is the driver...If the bloody bits are all Andrews', he'll have to explain why he got out of the ambulance casually before it went kaboom—and how!"

"Well, sheriff, I'm sure you'll do a great job...I'll follow this issue very closely." Joey said.

"Never in my thirty-five years of service I have seen something like this. It's got my full attention." Warren said.

Him and the mayor exchanged a few words before Joey left the scene, dialing a number in his phone. No one had ever seen such a thing in Warner Falls and somehow the opposition thought it was his fault; some were spreading news that this was a terrorist attack, so he had a good mess to deal with. Citizens were scared, confused, shocked, and he had to do something about it.

"How about a coffee, Warren?" Luc asked the sheriff.

"I won't say no; I really need a break. Let's go, my car's right there..." Warren made a grimace. "Dear Lord, the smell that darned thing has left is disgusting..."

But Luc, curiously, didn't smell anything. "Uh...Yes, about your car..."

Warren took the key of car from his pocket and looked at his partner inquisitively. As he approached to his car, his steps slowed down until he stopped in front of it. Now he saw what he wanted to tell him. Someone had evidently used a key, a screwdriver or some other pointed object not only to scratch its splendid red body but also write a very eloquent note: "REDNECK SCUM".

Warren contemplated it for long with his keys still on one hand. The expression on his face seemed indifferent, but he eventually turned his head at Luc and said, with an apparently neutral voice: "I'm gonna kill him."

"Jones?" Luc smiled.

"Who else?"

"Think of your oath."

"To hell with the oath. I'm gonna grab him by the neck and make him eat the pavement."

"You've got to be an example of blind justice and neutrality. And think you have better things to think about than Jones. Like the exploding ambulance."

"Or Billy. He's still the same. I fear he hurts himself. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep..."

"All he does is roar. Ah, ouais. Gansburg almost begged me not to leave him alone with him this morning."

Thinking of Gansburg made Luc inevitably think of that nice girlfriend he had. And thinking of her made a tiny smile grow on his face.

"This is starting to look like a very interesting week, right?" He said, shaking that thought off.

"I bet! All at once..."

Warren started the car and his partner took a minute to check his phone and send a text.

Talking about gorgeous females...

LOVE YOU, PRINCESS

Sylvia replied a few minutes later.

I stopped the car in the highway because I thought it was something important, idiot

Luc's smile vanished as he put the phone back into his pocket. It seemed it was never the moment to say 'I love you'. At home, she had to cook, bath the kids, do a thousand things, she was too tired for petting. At work or on the way, she didn't want to be disturbed with such 'unimportant things'...Warren didn't notice. He almost ran over a stupid runner but apart from that he felt incredibly calm. Happy even. He couldn't help wondering for how long he would feel that way.

He was almost ran over but Treg seemed not to notice. He didn't have his headphones on nor was looking at this phone, so he should have seen the car almost hitting him. The only thing he paid some attention to was all the cops in the street the big crate in the middle of the road, but it was short-lived. He always had so many thoughts inside of his brain, all at the same time, it was impossible to focus on just one of them. Usually, the biggest trifle was what caught his whole attention. It didn't matter to him if he was exposing himself to danger: all he was thinking about was that he really didn't want to do this but had no choice.

His fault, actually. He should have gotten in a limousine or a Mercedes, and not in that ramshackle vehicle driven by one of those guys parents use as an example of the kind of people one should not accept candy from. His own mom and dad would have fainted, knowing that he hopped into the van of this walking cautionary tale. He could not expect all the doors open with Martin: he had enough surviving himself, to give his guest a life of luxury. Treg missed the times when his parents paid him a gym subscription and now he had to face the fact that those times were long gone because he had decided so. With Martin, he had learned to choose the ridiculously cheap/free choice. For someone who was a handyman, it seemed like the natural choice. He, on the other hand, needed a little time to adjust to the idea that the life of a nomad wasn't as bohemian as he thought it would be.

Running seemed like a good alternative to the gym. Free, outdoors, it allowed him to meet other runners out there...Too bad he found it boring and unappealing. But he couldn't come up with anything else. Warner Falls offered nothing else to do—no beaches, no snowy mountains...He was really counting the hours to leave that trash town and go somewhere really nice. Somewhere sunny, with pretty views beyond as far as the eye can see, where there was no one nosing and judging. Running under a mass of clouds wasn't appealing at all.

He was very lazy. He didn't want to start. All he did was walk at first, at a reasonable pace, not even forcing himself. He wanted to surrender and go back to the couch. Only Martin's expected sassy response, 'I knew you wouldn't do it', was what gave him the motivation to try just a few minutes. Ten minutes. Ten minutes would be enough to shut his mouth.

It wasn't that bad. He increased the speed. Now he was walking like he was in a hurry.

Okay. A bit faster. Now he started running, slowly, like he was enjoying the views.

Hm. A little more.

More.

More.

He looked like he was trying to catch a bus now.

What was this feeling he was getting inside of his chest? He tried to name it and he couldn't.

He just knew something: he liked running more than he expected.

Soon he crossed the center of the town and found himself in the outskirts. Then, the road.

Sweat coated his skin, his cheeks were red, but he kept going. Stopping didn't seem like an option. There was only a word inside his head: "Run".

Run, run, run!

How could have he lived without it until that day?

Faster. Now he was running as fast as he could, his strides as long as he could deliver. Yes, he was giving it all. He wondered where his limit was.

Not there, it seemed. He moved fast as a bullet, everything around him seemed blurred except for the road. It seemed to have no end, to run till the end of the world, forever. His heart beat so fast it would have scared anyone–but not him. Adrenaline ran through his veins. He just couldn't care about anything at all. Except running, as if running was everything.

Run, run, run!

Treg suddenly stopped. He felt so dizzy that he had to sit on the road and recover his breath. It took him a long while and drinking what remained of the isotonic drink he carried with him. Yes, he had lost his mind and now paid the consequences. Treg read the sign which was just a few yards from him: "Warner Falls, 12". He chuckled at that. When he stood up and walked back home, this time slowly, he was still chuckling.

It was time time for a break at the repair shop. The five men sat together to fill their stomachs before going back to work. But practically all of them were looking at Martin. The steak he was eating—no, the actual word to describe it was 'devouring'— was so bloody and raw it made Hal sick just by looking at it.

"Why don't you just go to the field and bite a cow, boy?" He finally said with a side smile, swinging his spoon in the air as if it was some kind of magic wand.

Martin's only response was a mere shrug, not raising his eyes from his plate.

"At least it doesn't look like bird seed, like what you're eating." Randy commented, pointing at what Hal was eating.

"The doctor said I had to eat like a cow, and my wife will kill me if I don't. She's a devil, I tell you: she will know if I just threw it away..."

The rest of them was still eating when Martin finished. He got up, walked to the fridge and took a yogurt from it. He was about to sit down when he changed his mind and added to his dessert a banana and a couple of cookies.

"Wow, man." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Martin frowned, almost offended to be constantly interrupted.

"Nothing. Nothing. Just tell us when you're gonna explode, to get out of the way."

"I just feel very hungry these days." 'Mind your own business', his whole being shouted.

"Eat as much as you want, then, 'cause I can see your ribs. That can't be good." Ian pointed out as he bit his salad.

"He's like a scarecrow..." Vásquez muttered, cigarette in hand, so slowly he almost seemed he was falling asleep as he spoke.

Yes, he had been hearing that all of his life, so Martin didn't care about it. He let his coworkers talk while he kept on eating. It was as if he had a hole in his stomach and nothing he ate could be of any use...

What age was Isadore in that photo? Five? No older than five, Pip was sure. He totally looked like one of these restless children with bright eyes everyone loves. The boy was smiling at the camera, showing a broken front tooth. Pip couldn't help smiling. His height and the mustache made him look like a totally different person but the eyes...His eyes didn't shine still shone that way.

The door opened and Isadore came in. When he saw Pip standing by the cabinet with a frame in his hands, he stopped and looked at him in a way that would have made any other kid feel like a criminal. But Pip smiled at him.

"Hi, Izzy! How was your day?"

He was taking too many liberties lately...He may have gotten too comfortable...

"Ah. It's you again...Don't you have to go to school?" Isadore left his shoulder bag on one armchair and continued to gaze at Pip with a frown.

"Hehe! It's summer! I don't have to go to school!"

"Hm. Yeah, that's right...And...my grandma?"

"She's in her bedroom. She's changing her clothes. I'm taking her to the park. I thought we could go out and get some fresh air before it rains."

"Izzy? Is that you?" Her voice was heard.

"Yes, I'm home." Isadore replied.

"Do you want to come with us, love?"

"Yes, please, come with us!" Pip nodded enthusiastically.

"Uhm, sorry, but I'm tired and I haven't eaten yet."

"We could go to Maltese's, get some ice-creams..."

"No, thanks." Isadore was so cutting that Pip's smile faded a bit and he almost returned to his usually shy self.

"Well, okay. Maybe next time."

Next time...

Mrs. Hart came to their encounter, now fully dressed with a robe which had an ugly but funny flower pattern.

"Hello, Izzy, dear." She kissed Isadore—he had to bend down a little so that she could reach his cheek. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"No, I'm sure. Have fun and be careful."

"We'll be. I am in very good hands." Mrs. Hart smiled charmingly at Pip and he recovered that angel-like grin which would have made any woman's heart melt.

"I'll take care of her, I promise." Pip held Mrs. Hart's arm and they walked out the door together.

"I left you spaghetti inside the microwave. Bye! I love you!" She turned to the little boy and pointed at his Beans & Buddy T-shirt. "How lovely!Where did you get that?"

The door closed but Isadore didn't move from where he was immediately. When he did, moments later, he walked to the window and took a look outside. He saw the child and the old woman walking by the hand, slowly because Mrs. Hart's legs didn't allow her to go faster. Talking, laughing. Isadore remained there, watching them, until they were out of sight. Then, he walked to the kitchen and heated up the food in the microwave, wondering how this was possible, when.

He knew that his grandmother had found someone to talk to in the mornings, while he was working. He didn't worry about it; it was nice that she had friends. But he expected her friends to be old ladies like her. Not a child. Not...the neighbors' kid. Not him.

Day after day, he found him around her. Watching television with her, sitting at the porch, talking...What did they talk so much about? What could they have in common? No idea, but they talked and laughed a lot. He didn't remember his grandma acting that way around him.

It was nothing bad, wasn't it?

Well...For him, it was. It got him off his nerves, to see him around her. He wanted to hiss at him and take her away from him as far away as possible.

Why? Hm. He couldn't really tell. He simply didn't like him and that was enough reason.

He tried to put up with it, thinking that his grandma was in her right to choose the friends she wanted. But soon, he decided he couldn't allow it.

He wouldn't allow it.

The boy lived right in front of them. The Murphies had a garden filled with beautiful, aromatic flowers and even the bricks of the house were spotless. When Isadore watched from his porch, he saw a blonde woman in a blue dress taking care of the lawn, Mrs. Murphy, Pip's mother. A very good-looking woman, still very young, from whom Pip had inherited his big blue eyes. She didn't notice Isadore, and he lita cigarette and waited. And he had to wait for a good while to hear another voice say:

"Bye, mom!"

"Goodbye, Pip, dear! Be careful!"

"Sure!"

The cigarette was almost consumed; Isadore gave it a last drag before tossing it, exhaling the smoke and followed the little boy. When he reached him, away from Mrs. Murphy's eyes, he was as delicate as a rugby player. Pip stopped abruptly but he recovered his good disposition almost immediately.

"Morning, Izzy! What's up? How's your grandma?"

"I wanted to have a word with you precisely about that."

Isadore got closer, so awkwardly close that Pip drew back and his smile disappeared.

"I don't know what you want from her. Her money, accumulate good karma, people praising you for being a good boy who takes care of the elders, a badge. Whatever. I don't care. But stay away from her. I am warning you, you'd better not make me say it again. I don't want to see you in my house or talking to my granny ever again. Ever, you heard me?"

And before someone saw them or Pip had the chance to say a thing, he dashed away. The little boy stood there very still, very rigid, looking into the direction Isadore had disappeared.

What was that about?

Isadore himself couldn't have answered to that question. But it felt like the right thing to do.

The doorbell rang so insistently that Mrs. Reese got very nervous, thought this could only mean that a big fire was consuming the neighborhood or a hurricane was coming. Kath was quick to open before she had a cardiac arrest. She was a bit annoyed to find that it was just Sheldon.

"Why are you burning my...?" She began to ask when he walked in without asking for permission.

"Yeah, about the madman who got into my house the other day, do you know what I found out today?" Sheldon said. "You heard about the explosion, right?"

"Pfft, of course! People talk about nothing else!"

"Well, that guy was inside the car that exploded." Sheldon replied.

Kath looked at him eyes wide open.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking, right?" Sheldon asked. "Too much of a coincidence, ain't it? I've seen enough pictures to know it's quite suspicious that the guy who says something is happening in this town is suddenly blown into smithereens...Don't you think?"

"Honestly, I don't know what to think..." Kath crossed her arms.

"He claimed we had already met, but forgot it..." Sheldon walked around the room, his arms behind his back. "He said something about people controlling our minds, living in a fake universe...Martians? I don't know..."

He stopped walking around and looked at Kath.

"That guy lived in the woods, right? I think I've heard he had a hut he made himself..."

"To look at the stars, yes." Frowning, she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you thinking about? I know you, Sheldon, and I know you're planning something..."

"I'm thinking he knew something someone wants that he takes to his grave. There must be something in his place..."

"I'm not sure if it's a good idea, Sheldon."

"Yeah, if there's someone behind this, I'm gonna get involved..."

"No, I mean, it's highly probable that it's just a coincidence."

"What if it's not? Ever since I heard he blew up, I've been so nervous I cleaned my house five times in one morning, my heart's pounding, my head aches. Why every time I think about it I get like this? Let's just say I'm...open to hear what he was talking about."

Kath sighed.

"So you're going into the woods to sneak into the house of a dead maniac...I suppose nothing I can tell you can make you change your mind..."

"Just take a look, find rubbish so big I'll finally be convinced he was just a madman and will be at peace with mediocrity again, then go home. You don't need to go with me, I can manage perfectly on my own."

"You can't...Just let me prepare everything necessary so my mom's alright while I'm out of the house. I don't mind taking care of you too."

"Will you?" Sheldon raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, pal."

"I guess it's my duty to take care of you. I need to be there to convince you till the last minute. And you are right about one thing: what happened to you the other day was the most exciting thing ever happening in this neighborhood. I can't miss this."

Chapter Text

It was the chronicle of a breakdown foretold. Probably.

Father Steward had been a priest for long enough to notice the sign of times. Back in the day, there was not an empty bench at the parish and in Sundays and holidays a needle falling wouldn't have hit the floor. He would spend an hour easily shaking hands and chatting at the end of mass at the gates. Folks would often come at any time to have a private talk to the Blessed Sacrament, pray the rosary in a group. Now? Now it seemed people had forgotten God and only came just the minimum needed not to go to hell, like it was one chore to cross out their to-do list. The usual those days was to only lay a foot on the church when someone died and their presence was required not to give people a reason to talk. The world was going to hell, it was not just the opinion of an old geezer, one just had to turn on the TV or open a newspaper to see. The fabric of society was breaking and people, instead of turning to the loving arms of the Father, preferred to turn to drugs, junk food, video games, binge watching, obscenity, you only live once! they say, and get deeper and deeper into that pit of doom, go mad and start picking fights for the smallest reasons, for the thrill of it, even. He tried to warn them about the bad path they were walking but it was like preaching in the desert. Who listens to priests anymore? And his sheep were not making things easier for him, either. In fact, they seemed to find pleasure in testing his patience.

The morning when it all happened, when he was preaching and trying to help the usual handful attendants understand the implications of Virgin Mary's Assumption in flesh and spirit, a phone rang. Given where the sound was coming from, where the people glanced at, it belonged to an old lady. He tried to be patient. Not many elders know how to put their phones on vibration or have someone who can do it for them. She didn't bother to cut the call, though. It almost seemed like she was the only one who couldn't hear it. Stewart was starting to lose his train of thought. At someone's warning, she finally started opening her purse to look for it. The phone stopped ringing before she reached it. Father Stewart sighed in relief and continued with the mass. However, the person calling didn't understand that she was busy and called again. And once more, the phone rang, and rang, and rang, while the lady, with no hurry whatsoever, shoved her hand inside the purse and searched for it like she had all the time in the world. The Father made a great effort to remember it was a Christian duty to put up with people's flaws...But when the caller didn't surrender and tried again, during the Transubstantiation, he felt a great pressure inside his chest. This time the lady answered, but he could not thank God for this.

"HELLO? I CAN'T TALK NOW, I AM AT MASS...WHO?! WHO IS CALLING?! SISSY?! I'M AT MASS!"

There was no need for Heaven to come down for this solemn moment: her voice surely reached the Heavenly Kingdom.

"HOW ARE ROBERT AND THE KIDS? I'M FINE, I'M FINE, I'LL TELL YOU LATER, I'M AT MASS...NO, SHE DIED, THE POOR THING! SHE TOLD ME SHE HAD A FLU AND THEY FOUND HER THE NEXT DAY ALL STIFF ON THE SOFA! I'M TELLING YOU! WHAT A WORLD, AND POLLY, WHO NEVER TOOK A HINT...!"

No matter how people looked at her, how someone shushed her, the lady just kept shouting and didn't seem to find the moment to press the darned red button. Father Stewart didn't even know what he was saying anymore. All he knew he wanted to grab that phone and crush it against the pavement and dance on it. A thought he quickly repelled.

But the feeling was there long after the mass. What happened was the last episode of a series of things he hated and had to put up with.

Yes, he was really irritated and prayed that morning, while he was shopping, for that ugly feeling to leave him, but it was still there, glued to him, and all his efforts were useless, for he could only find more and more reasons to be irritated. The rise of the prices! The long queues! The confounded old ladies skipping line using their age and fragility as an excuse! How he hated those old hags! If he didn't say a couple of truths to their wrinkled faces it was because of the collar he was wearing...

He needed to fill the tank of his car and there, at the gas station, he encountered—what a surprise—a longer queue. Stewart just closed his eyes and tried to distract himself from the frustration, from the feeling that, this day, he hated people and wanted to go back to his house as soon as possible...

It was then when that big ginger behind him, pushed by all the people in the line, brushed his disgusting, sweaty, hairy body against him.

Then, the bubble burst.

"Hey, you, you racken fracken varmint, I ain't looking for a man to cuddle with tonight, so get off me!"

The waiting time at line at the gas station had been very boring until that very moment. Some even looked around like woken up from a state of drowsiness. Among them was Ben, who had a bag of chips, a coke and a pre-made salad in his hand. His eyes, like everyone else's, turned to that little man who was glaring at the hairy ginger behind him.

His response, that rude response from someone as well-known and affable as Father Clayton Stewart was surprising enough to make everyone fall into a stupefied silence. But when the big ginger finally stepped back, when the priest took a couple of guns from the pockets of his jacket, the silence gave way to a big racket. A lady screamed at the top of her lungs, most of the clients ran out of the station or hid among the shelves, when the little man started firing in all directions.

"Anybody else wanna be clingy?! Nobody?!" He shouted, breaking glass, making the fluorescent lamps explode, shot after shot.

Ben definitely didn't want to mess with that man or try to be a hero, like the worker who, under the counter, was calling the police. Like everyone else, he ran to hide, dropping his dinner.

One of the bullets went through a bag of snacks near him and he crouched. A woman who was also hidden there pointed at his cheek, babbling. Ben touched his face and stared at the blood on it.

He held his breath, his heart raced, adrenaline ran through his veins.

An affront which demanded reparations.

The thought came quite unexpectedly, and it was so stupid, so suicidal Ben quickly pushed it away. Any sane person would know that one didn't get revenge on someone who had a gun.

Kath wasn't very sure of what she was going to say to Ben when she saw him. To be honest, she wasn't very sure of what one was supposed to say in a situation like this. They had talked so little in all the years they lived next door...It was not that they didn't know each other...It didn't have to be so difficult, did it? She shook that worry off, saying to herself that words would start to flow once she saw him.

Ben finally answered to the door. He had a big patch in his cheek, with a dark reddish spot. He seemed to be ready to go to work; she had caught him before he left. Kath took deep breath.

"Uh, hi. I just saw you and saw...What happened?"

Ben was quiet for a couple of seconds, still processing that she was there, talking to him, and she was worried.

"The priest. He...wanted us to meet God, apparently." Was all he said. And he regretted it.

Good thing her lips curved a little, finding that remark funny and thinking she had nothing to worry, if he was in the mood for jokes.

"Are you okay?" She insisted.

"Yeah, it was nothing. Just a scratch."

Good thing that the guy didn't have much aim, he added internally. It would have been nice to make that comment aloud, but he kept it to himself, not to turn this into a comedy festival.

"I'm so glad. Dear Lord, I was shocked to see you with your face covered in blood! A shooting! Good thing you only got a scratch!..." Kath kept talking, showing her worry, and Ben almost had to thank that deranged man for making Kath worry about him, giving her a reason to talk to him after so, so long. She was so pretty...

"...He didn't get you anywhere else, right? You were so lucky! Why is a priest carrying firearms, anyway?" She kept saying.

He didn't know, but there was one thing he was completely sure of: there was nothing he wished more than grabbing her and kissing her cherry lips, look into her gorgeous aqua eyes and tell her how absolutely amazing he thought she was and how he wished to take her out to have dinner together...He had been dreaming about it since he was twelve.

...Oh, but that was what all males in Warner Falls wanted. What made him think she would want none of that with him? They never talked much back then. Kath probably only remembered remotely that they were in the same class. They did a project together once or twice, maybe, and that's it. They were not friends. Acquaintances. That's it. She was only concerned about him because her mother had spoken her into it or something of the sort. What relationship did they have? The guys at school, those jocks she was always surrounded with, made it clear for him: he was a big toothed, ugly, stupid maroon who couldn't even dream of getting a chance with her. The only reason why she would show any interest on him was to laugh at him, because of a bet, something like that...

Kath Reese had always been out of reach. He had always known and had to remember it.

"Uhm, thanks for your concern..." Ben finally said. "Listen, I've got to..."

"Oh! Yeah! Sorry. You probably got things to do...Just wanted to make sure you were okay...If you need something, anything...I'm..."

"Sure...Good day."

And with that Ben closed the door. He rested his back against it and sighed. It was better to kill all high hopes before they made him suffer some terrible disappointment...

On the other side, Kath sighed and reluctantly walked away from the door. It was so difficult to get to know him...She wondered why she even tried—it was obvious he wanted nothing with anybody. Back at school and now.

"It's a pity. I always had the feeling a fun guy lies underneath..." Kath thought while coming into her house, in order to have everything ready for that night's little adventure with Sheldon.

"Don't you know what happened to Ben?"

Brian didn't look up as he stirred his coffee.

"What Ben? Ross?" He asked.

"The clerk, Whitby." Morty, from Sales Department, replied. "Did you hear about the shooting at the gas station?"

"Rosie told me about it, yes."

"He was there and got shot."

"Gracious! Is he dead?" For someone who didn't know who this Ben Whitby was a second before, Brian sounded really concerned.

"Oh, no! He's quite alright! But he couldn't come today. The police's inquiring, the fright...You know." Morty replied.

"Sure, of course. I should probably text him, send him a fruits basket or something."

Brian judged the sugar was finally dissolved and sipped his coffee. It was still quite hot, he burnt the tip of his tongue.

It was true that he had no idea of who Whitby was. He just couldn't remember his face. Ben had such a talent becoming invisible that it was difficult for everyone to remember his name and his existence. But Brian considered his subordinates a family, and thought it was his responsibility to take care of each one of them and comfort them when it was needed. Like in this case. Now that Morty mentioned him, he thought of Ben Whitby for the first time in his life.

"Well, I gotta get going." Morty finished his sandwich and paid for his consumption. "The head office is biting my ass with this project."

"Okay, I'll see you later." Brian said to him, and he was left alone.

He still had some time to eat a good cheese sandwich. There was no better way to start the day than with one of Noble's treats. They made the best sandwiches in the county, in his opinion.

He was far away from the fuss at the office. In fact, the silence was such that he tried to end it humming a song to himself.

In spite of his coworkers and underlings taking him for a simpleton anyone could take advantage of, Brian was afraid that someone saw him as an ogre. He was just convinced that they thought so. The boss, the guy with the whip, the one with authority to fire them...But he wasn't like that. I don't want anyone to think of him that way...It was just that...well, all companies need a firm leader or it would be Sodom and Gomorrah...they should understand...Still, he wanted everyone to remember him as a good fellow who never wronged anybody, who lived in peace with all the creatures. Darn, he was a vegetarian because he couldn't even stand the thought of eating something which had a mother.

Whitby...

He felt so curious about him...

Brian's gaze then turned at the man in the table by his side, at the shotgun he had left on the table so that everyone could admire. Its owner, the manliest person he had ever seen, seemed pleased to see some people look at it with horror, like a twisted sense of pride. He noticed Brian was staring at it with big curiosity and smiled at him with crooked teeth. Brian returned a kind smile.

"Did you have much luck?" He asked the hunter.

"Nay! They told me I'd find deer and boar here but there's only rabbits and shit."

"That's too bad."

"Beer's good, though. Tomorrow I'll be heading South, to a great place I know."

"I hope you're lucky."

"You know about hunting?"

He? An animal-lover who couldn't stand mud and the cold? That was completely out of question.

"Heh, no. Not a word." Brian chuckled.

"Uh. Hey, buddy, can you do me a favor? I gotta get something from the van, keep an eye on my stuff, okay?"

Brian couldn't refuse, not even reply, because the hunter immediately stood up and walked away. Brian continued to gaze at the gun on the table, until, pushed by a great force, grabbed it.

Why? He couldn't say. He just probably wanted to know what it felt like, what was so interesting about guns.

Hm. It's wasn't a bad feeling at all, alright. He could understand. In his hands he was holding the capacity of killing others. Life and death. He could also understand the underlying implications, what all these philosophers called a phallic symbol...

"Hey, you, I don't want that stuff in my cafe." The waitress told him.

Brian blinked, perplexed. It was at this moment when he noticed he was holding the gun like he was about to shoot at the wall. Quickly leaving it on the table, he muttered an excuse, he refused to touch or look at it again. But the owner was back and he had seen it all.

"Feels awesome, don't it?" He grinned, satisfied that his gun had had such a powerful effect on someone.

This time, Brian didn't reply. Now that he was aware of what those cool things could do, he was scared of them, he wanted to stay as far away from them as possible.

...If it was so, why, after work, he drove to the local armory? Why did he stop watching the shop's window and go through that door? Why didn't he run away when the seller asked him what he was looking for? Why did he buy a double-barrel shotgun?

And why did it feel good?

First, he didn't hear the waitress calling because he was focused watching a fragment of those cartoons, Beans & Buddy, on the television. Now, he was making her wait, while he realized she was handing him his cup of coffee.

"Exc-Exc-Excuse me, miss...Uh...Do I kno-know you?"

The waitress was an overweight woman with rosy cheeks and pretty brown hair and eyes. Her smile was as gorgeous as those, at least that was Joey's impression.

"Of course you do. You come here very often, Mr. Mayor." the woman replied softly.

Joey chuckled. "Oh, su-su-sure, silly me."

He grabbed his coffee and sat on the table near the window. That allowed him to break away.

He had heard very unsettling news–of course, from José; that man was somehow so fell informed!–about a shooting in the town. That was the last thing he had expected in Warner Falls, someone trying to kill another someone! And the priest, to be more exact!

He felt responsible for that in a way, even if he couldn't answer for people's actions. He was supposed to keep that town a safe place, that's why they voted him.

Darn, first the explosion, then the shooting...Not to mention the alarming rise of vandalism. It was as if something in the water was making all the inhabitants lose their sanity and behave like monkeys, breaking everything, destroying what they wanted, punching people at the first chance they had...Was it his fault? Had he somehow encouraged that kind of behavior? Or was it the clouds permanently above their heads, which prevented any light, any happy little thought from entering their minds and clouded them and depressed them to the point of recurring to this in order to feel something?

What was sure was that he was feeling really anxious. José found a bottle of pills on his desk and he could not even reply to his questions about it. He just needed them. The stuttering had returned. It was as bad as it used to be back in New York, when his health problems started, when stress almost made him kick the bucket. It was ridiculous, and more in a man whose work depended much on his speech. It was frustrating. Why did it have to return now, when he needed to show confidence the most?

But then...Joey forgot all about it suddenly when a person passed by the café. He had never seen him before but for some reason his heart skipped a beat. his legs shook, ready to stand up. And he did. Did he really think about talking to him? But what would he say? That person was leaving, Joey quickly followed.

"Hey! Excuse me! You, yes, you! Wait!"

Sheldon stopped.

"Sorry." Joey panted. "But I just saw you and...Haven't we met before?"

Sheldon studied that man. Where had he seen those cheeks like apples, that piggy nose, that formal, almost outdated attire? Yes, it was somehow familiar, but so vague that Sheldon replied:

"I...don't think so."

"Really? High school? College? A party maybe?"

Sheldon shook his head.

"Oh...I beg your pardon. I was completely sure I knew you."

Joey walked back to the café shaking his head. Well, now he was sure he was going crazy, knowing every single person he came across...Even cartoons brought him a very strange feeling. He would have to follow José's advice and get some rest before his brain fried.

Sheldon, on the other hand, kept walking at a slow pace, turning his head towards the man. Yes, he was so familiar...But...Ah, sure! He was one of those politicians whose face is everywhere during election campaigns! What a weirdo.

Anyway, he had more important things to think about. While Kath was making sure her mother would be alright in her absence, he prepared everything necessary to break into the house of the Man from the Stars. He had things to buy, people to ask questions...

It was late in the afternoon when Pip knocked at the Harts' door. Fortunately, it was Mrs. Hart the only one who answered it, wiping her wet hands on her apron.

"Ah, Pip! It's you, my dear! Come in, come in!" She grinned as soon as she saw him.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Hart...I just came to give you this back. Thank you so much, but I can't accept it."

A few candy she had given him the other day...Mrs. Hart grabbed the boy from the shoulder before he rushed away.

"Wait a second! What's the meaning of this?" She asked.

Was Isadore at home? Pip didn't see him but he could have been listening.

"I...I don't think I should..."

"Did your parents tell you to do this?"

"No, no..."

"I can have a word with them."

"No, it was my idea, I promise. I can't keep it. I can't. And I can't keep seeing you."

"Oh, Pip, but I certainly don't understand. Don't you like me now?"

It broke Pip's heart to hear that, the look on her face...

"Are you kidding? Of course I like you, ma'am! I...I like you so much! As if you were my own granny!" He claimed.

"Then stop this nonsense." Mrs. Hart gave Pip the treats back and made sure he kept them. "You are also very dear to me, child, and I would be so, so sad if you left me."

"I don't want you to be sad."

"In that case, I hope to see you around often. You have a way to make me feel happy. With you and Izzy around, oh, I need nothing else, my dear."

Pip's smile faded a bit when that name was mentioned. Isadore wouldn't be pleased when he found out he had disobeyed him.

Oh, but if his presence made that lovely widow happy, he would go against him and everyone. Maybe Isadore would understand with a little bit of time.

"Of course I will be around, Granny. Always."

They both smiled at each other.

Isadore, inside the bathroom, still naked and with his clothes on his hands ready to get into the shower, gritted his teeth.

He didn't like the sound of that. Not at all.

In fact...He could have eaten that kid at that moment.

Chapter Text

"Dad let me!"

"Luc, did you let Max eat candy?"

"Well, yes, I did."

"Before dinner?"

"He behaved, Sylvia. I don't see why he couldn't have a treat."

"I told him he couldn't. He's not going to eat dinner now. You might be the law's arm in town but I've got something to say in my house."

"Why are you making a fuss about it?"

"I make a fuss because I can't say something without you contradicting me!"

"Not in front of the children, I'm begging you..."

"Mph...Go take a shower, you're not getting in bed with me with that stench."

Luc woke up and thought for a second it was time to get up, but the clock on the night table showed it was just 11 P.M. He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but it was useless, so he remained there, quiet and still, just hearing the clock ticking.

By his side, Sylvia slept. Luc could see her face thanks to the dim light which filtered through the blinds. She was usually a pretty woman but now that expression of peace made her look really beautiful. His beautiful wife, the mother of his two sons.

...Why did he look at her and felt nothing at all?

In fact...He started to question if he had ever felt something for her.

They met at a bar in Paris. She was there for her Spring break, along with four more college friends. He was back to his motherland after a mission abroad, wanted to have some fun after a hard time seeing the worst and the best of human being. Since danger was his old friend, he was courageous enough to approach. They talked, shared some experiences, had some drinks together; they continued to see each other after that meeting, then went out as friends...Given the course of things, Luc felt a marriage proposal was in order. People said they made a cute couple. Where would he find such a pretty wife who understood what it was like to be married to someone who exposed himself to bullets and missiles every day? He had a promising career in France, he could have easily become a captain, but left it all to move to Sylvia's birthplace, Warner Falls. Cities were becoming a bad place for children. Having them was part of the program, he guessed. Two years later Max was born and then Victor followed three years later. Two wonderful sons. He had nothing to regret.

But now, now that he was looking at her, after having seen the innocent, inexperienced, sweet kind of love Cadet Gansburg had, he saw that he had never had that kind of engagement. No butterflies in his stomach, no spontaneous visits to each other's workplace.

Maybe they just got married because they grew used to each other. Or because people convinced them that they were made to each other.

That night, Luc felt an uncomfortable tingling feeling inside his chest upon noticing he was lying by an acquaintance's side, just as if it had been some woman from the streets, a distant cousin, a neighbor, the cashier one always encounters at the grocery store. Someone he knew, nothing else. That was such an uneasy feeling that he considered getting up and leaving the room. He actually did it. He went to the garden and sat on the stairs to smoke a cigarette, even though he promised himself he would cut it out. He needed a bit of air and calm his nerves.

He didn't want to admit what seemed obvious to him. He fought against the idea with all his might.

What a silly feeling and what a silly man he was for thinking that he had no idea of what love actually was.

"Luc, oh, there you are."

He didn't know for how long he had spent sat in there, just looking at the moon and the stars. Sylvia opened the door, phone in hand.

"I looked for you everywhere. It's Warren on the phone."

Well, Warren was not the kind of man who called people late at night unless it was important. Luc took the phone, wondering what the matter was.

"Oui?"

"Luc. Sorry to bother you on your free day but it can't wait. I need you to come to the station now. You have to see something."

"What is it?"

"You have to see it with your own eyes."

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in a moment."

Sylvia gave him a worried look as he hanged.

"Go back to sleep, don't worry." Luc kissed her—a kiss colder than death!— and rushed to put some clothes on and drive to the police station.

Warren was waiting for him outside, his arms folded and an impatient, grave expression in his face. Warren had always been such a laid-back man it made Luc understand that the situation was very serious.

"Good night." Luc greeted him. He didn't even had time to ask what happened, because Warren immediately started moving:

"No, it ain't, I say, it ain't a good night. Absolutely. It's the worst of nights. Ol' Billy escaped. And you know how he did it? You want me to tell you? Well, take a look."

Luc followed Warren inside with a little bit of difficulty catching up with him because the sheriff was practically running. When he stopped at the entrance of the cell room, Luc understood why he wanted him to see the scene himself: the wall, made of solid bricks, was all torn down, as if a hurricane had stormed into the room.

Like usual, a veil of clouds hid the moon, like if their inhabitants had it forbidden to see the skies. Not even a solitary cricket made a sound. Sheldon and Kath walked among the trees with the help of the light of a torch Sheldon was carrying. They wandered in silence for a bit, until she spoke, thankfully for Sheldon, because it was being quite an eerie silence:

"I told my mother I had to help you with a big mess you had at home, a pipe exploding."

"Ah. Fine."

"...We're probably venturing into the lion's den. We don't know what we'll find in there. That guy may have had dangerous stuff in his hut. If something happens to me, she'll have no one."

Her mom. Always her mom. Sheldon licked his lips. "...I don't want you to feel bad because of me...You're still in time to go back home..."

"I told you I wouldn't leave you alone. I just...Sorry, I didn't want you too feel bad either."

"It's fine."

Kath chuckled softly. "I had a hard time convincing her. She suspected I was tricking her. She thinks we're dating or something...But don't you get any weird ideas."

"Wha...? No! Of course not! I wouldn't dare!" Sheldon quickly said, acting innocent. "I mean...This is the 21st century: a man and a woman can be friends, with no double intentions, of course..."

"Yep. You are the closest person I've got to talk to, to vent and stuff..."

"Same here. If it wasn't for you, I would have probably gone nuts..." Sheldon frowned.

A pause. They had been walking in circles for a long time, probably. And it would have been so, so much worse for Sheldon if Kath wasn't around, since she clearly had a better sense of direction than he had. Too bad there were no signs like 'This way to the madman's cave'. It would have made things easier. And all that darkness surrounding them and preventing them to see beyond their noses didn't make help things at all.

"But, hey, if you're up to..." Sheldon let it slip.

"Sorry." Kath destroyed all of his hopes before they got too high.

"Okay. Fine. Just saying..." Sheldon muttered.

"Still feeling nervous?" Kath quickly changed the matter.

"Yeah."

"I still wonder why don't you just forget about that guy and keep moving forward."

"I don't know, but...I've been thinking about it...I've done nothing but think about everything he said to me. He said he knew me, and I knew him. I'm sure I've never seen him before, but...You know? It's weird. Those big eyes...I've got the feeling I've seen them somewhere..."

"Perhaps he just reminded you of someone you actually know."

"Perhaps..."

Kath paused because they had stumbled upon what they were looking for. A hut built with woodblocks and steel plates, a big telescope, homemade too (and strangely well made too) sticking out from the ceiling. The door was padlocked. How to get in became the question.

"As long as you don't buy that fairy tale about us being in a simulation, you'll be fine. I don't want to see you with a tinfoil hat on your head and preaching about the end of the world."

"There's just one problem: if philosophers don't agree about what reality is like, how can we say for sure all of this is real?" Sheldon replied, inspecting every inch of the hut. "I am no genius but I know something. Duck Dodgers. I don't know what that means, but it sounds big...and it sounds better than Sheldon Schwimmer...It sounds right...And I keep asking myself who or what is that and why is it so important."

"Well, we might find out something in there, but how are we going to get in? The door's locked."

Sheldon took a few steps away. Kath thought he was going to inspect the surroundings, put some distance to think, but then she saw him get impulse and knock the door down with a charge.

"The guy's dead, ain't he? He's not going to sue us..." Sheldon shrugged.

Kath shrugged and followed him in.

It seemed the man dedicated his days to meditation. He had a simple bed to sleep in, an ewer and a basin to wash himself with, a portable stove to heat canned food. That was all—the rest of the space, as well as his time and effort, was dedicated to papers, photos, files, all tidy but so many they filled the little space.

Sheldon handed Kath an extra light and started examining that window to the mind of the madman.

The first thing the male found was a drawing notepad resting on the seat for the telescope. There, the Man from the Stars had drawn the galaxies he saw through it, what seemed like routes, coordinates...Also what seemed to be aliens, the most insane creature designs he had ever seen. He wondered how many of those went to the toilet. Was that what he remembered the space to be filled with, what he saw every night? He saw an ant-like creature dressed in a Roman soldier attire, with tenis shoes, with no mouth or nose. Sheldon found similar creatures in the next pages, with different uniforms but all the same. One of them got his attention particularly: one of them seemed to be a female, lightly dressed, with long white hair, nice proportions, particularly human, at least in comparison to the rest. A strangely arousing drawing. «Queen Tyr'ahnee», a note said at her feet. Did Martians have queens? All of that, was it what Marvin remembered from his home?

...Marvin? Who was Marvin?

Sheldon turned back the pages to look at the first creature again. There were no notes, but he was convinced—that was Marvin. He didn't need any note to know.

And that brought him an unsettling feeling.

Kath stepped on a paper as she walked around the room. She took it and saw it was a drawing, of five grotesque men, bulky, monstrous, dressed like basketball players. Her heart shrunk for a second. She shook her head and put it on a table. She had seen something else.

"Hey, Sheldon, look."

The man walked to her side, saw what she was seeing. The guy had glued photos to the walls in a corner—photos of the inhabitants of Warner Falls, taken without their consent or without them even noticing, with little notes written on them. Gossamer?, in the photo of a tall, hairy ginger man who was reading the newspaper sat in a bench at Blanc Park. Sniffles, for a child with brown hair who was walking out of the local school. A man of tan skin and blonde curls was called Pete the Puma. Even the sheriff was there, and had a strange note added to him: Foghorn Leghorn. And they saw Kath herself, too. The man had taken a picture at the supermarket, at some point in the Winter. Lola Bunny.

"Dude, did that guy call me a bunny?" Kath muttered, and she frowned.

"Lola...Does that ring a bell?" Sheldon asked.

"I don't know..."

"I've heard that name before...I don't know where...Maybe the guy had notes of where that comes from. He knew you..."

Sheldon inspected the surroundings and took a notebook from a corner.

«Day 1: Now that I am back to my senses, I can't remember with much precision the moment when I woke up, how. All I know is that it was the most painful torture one can make their brains endure. I put all of my brain cells to it and that is why I feel so excitable yet at the same time so tired, so glad yet so glum. At first I was like everyone else, I don't know for how long. I believed I was a common wildlife biologist, with a common life, a common human appearance, a common dog...But something felt—out of place. Wrong. One night, I looked at the night sky from the window of my bedroom, and I saw at a fraction of second the clouds allowed me to see the stars—Mars was there, a little shiny dot in the sky. It was very brief, but, after all, explosives only need milliseconds to blow...And I started to remember. I almost believed it was just my imagination, but I wallowed in that feeling. Everything was telling me to stop, but I was stubborn: I fought, fought those feelings before they turned off the spark of my judgement. It was a long process. It wasn't painless, either. I refused to take aspirins to mitigate the pain or distract myself with something else: I had to go on and see. Many questions came to the surface and I needed answers. Then I saw. I saw how monstrous I had become...all the holes in my face, the teeth, the inconvenient stature, hair...I almost fainted, finding myself in such state. I recognized my right hand as a dog, a very simple creature unable to understand the most simple orders...I walked around my house now knowing it wasn't so. Where am I? Where are the others? I must find them. I cannot be sure of my victory and that is why I have decided to document my whole experience in this log, so, in case my memory fails again, I have something to cling to.»

"Hey, look at this." Sheldon handed Kath the notebook for her to read. While she did so, Sheldon went back to the doodle notebook and looked at the depiction of Marvin. If this was what the Man from the Stars was supposed to look like, he understood his dismay, finding himself in the body of a human being. For a creature like that, humans were probably monsters.

Kath turned the pages and they kept reading together, Sheldon holding the torch while Kath read out loud:

«Day 100: I have not found anybody. It is like they vanished from existence. No one even knows what the Looney Tunes are. There are no references on the Internet or books. Nothing. This is extremely suspicious. They are out there, somewhere...Maybe they went through the same experience as I did? Maybe they have changed as well? I will keep my eyes open.»

The next entry...

«Day 104: I was right: they still are around. They are closer than I thought. They were here all along! They have a new appearance now, new names. Roles and behavior have changed as well, making them almost very different individuals, but it is still them. I have a gut feeling about it, and these kind of feelings have proved to be very useful. They don't show a worry. They are the way I used to be before I became aware. I will help them open their eyes.»

Kath and Sheldon exchanged a look.

«Day 313: I know of parasites from Saturn that take over the mind of their victims and put them into a blissful state, like a potent drug, to suck their brains better. Maybe the mental fog is the way this reality makes sure that no one thinks...They give us false jobs, false priorities, so we don't question a thing...My attempts have been futile. Nobody listens to me. They think I am crazy. My own beloved Queen has almost called the police on me. They are very deep into the lie, but if I could wake up, the others can. I will not surrender.»

«Day 335: I am very tired. Very, very tired. I know it is this twisted universe's method to undermine my will and make me go back. Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Why don't I just give in and give my poor mind and heart a rest. What does it matter, anyway? But I keep going. Even if it kills me, I am not living a lie.»

"The guy was really beating himself up. I almost feel sorry for him." Kath said.

She turned the pages to find the drawing of a man along with the log entry.

«Day 482: I don't want to forget Mr. Chuck. I have been forced to believe I have a mother and a father in Connecticut, named Humbert and Linda. They keep calling all the time, to distract me, of course, but I know I owe my existence to this man. I was not born: I was drawn. I don't want to forget him. I have drawn him in case my brain fails, so I will always remember his face. I don't want to forget his hands gave me life.»

Chuck...?

"We need to talk, Chuck. You and Mike are making me look like the rabbit's stooge!"

And he smiled and replied...he replied...

"Sheldon?"

Sheldon had his eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you okay, Sheldon?" Kath gave him a concerned look.

Why did he have such lump in his throat? Why did he feel that way all of a sudden?

He pointed at the portrait.

"This man...I know this man. But I got no idea why...A-And I have the feeling that I should know who he is but..."

Who was he? Who was he?! It was exasperating that the more he tried to remember, the further the answer was.

"...I do feel like I...like...Why can't I even describe what I feel like?..." Sheldon raised his eyes to Kath and she saw they were shiny. "Kath...I think the guy was right about us having met before...I...I've met this person here as well...I don't know where...But he used to be someone important in my life. And I can't believe I've forgotten why..."

"Maybe we should get out of here...You're getting really nervous..."

"No, I want to stay. I need to know...Don't you...Don't you feel that?"

Mom is alone. It's time for her pills.

Kath wanted to go back home that instant, leave immediately. The thought was like a bullet to her head.

But the words from the Man from the Stars returned to her mind. He said...«Maybe the mental fog is the way this reality makes sure that no one thinks...They give us false jobs, false priorities, so we don't question a thing...» So she tried to push the thought away, forget about her mother—she was alright, she had made sure she could manage on her own for some hours...

She left Sheldon struggling against his own memory and returned to the drawing of the five monsters and pressed her lips, eyebrows furrowed.

She had definitely seen those guys before; somehow she knew they looked small on the paper but they were gigantic in person, and they were hostile too...But...Michael...Why did that name pop into her mind? Her head span, but she made the effort to keep thinking about it. Now she knew what that weirdo meant when he said he was going through a living hell. It was so exhausting, so disturbing...

"What was the last entry before he got blown up?" She asked then, turning her head towards him.

Sheldon searched and, when he found it, read it aloud:

«Day 678: I am coming to terms with the fact that I am the only one who has awaken. With the solitude. There are days when I am not capable of leaving the bed. But, last night, this thought gave me hope. Maybe my spirits rely too much on this, but it has been the only motivation I have found to get out of bed. If all the crew is here, that means Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck must be around as well. I must find them and talk to them. It is simply impossible that they succumbed to the illusion. Bugs is way too sly to be fooled. Daffy, my old nemesis, is simply crazy. I will find them and tell them everything. I am hopeful about the future. They always saved the day. They will, once again.»

"Bugs..."

Sheldon and Kath looked at each other, after having muttered that name at the unison.

"Do you know him?" Sheldon asked.

"I'm not sure. How about you?"

"Couldn't tell...Don't you have a feeling, here inside, that..."

"Yes...From the very second I read that name, I..."

Kath paused, not even sure of what to say. That feeling inside her chest was leaving her breathless.

Bunny.

Bugs.

Lola Bunny. Bugs Bunny.

What did that name have that left such an impact on her?

She turned her head to the open door. Outside there was only darkness and a soft breeze blew...

Then, suddenly...

"Sheldon..." She whispered, growing so tense she became petrified.

"What?"

"Someone's out there watching us..."

Sheldon had no idea of how to dissimulate and turned towards the door with an aggressive pose: "Who's there?!"

There was no answer. Not the kind of answer they expected. At first there was silence, after which something went zooming above their heads and stuck into the wall behind them, right on Mars in a map of the Solar System.

A flaming arrow.

The hut was entirely made of wood and filled with combustibles, so the fire spread in the blink of an eye.

"Let's get out of here!" Kath grabbed Sheldon by the arm.

"Wait!" Sheldon exclaimed. He resisted. He wanted to grab everything he could, save as much as possible. The portraits. The notes. The dairy had slipped from their hands and he tried to pick it up, but Kath prevented him from doing so, dragging him out before he could. Smoke was starting to fill the room and it would soon be difficult to find the exit and even breathe. Seeing how quick the flames started devouring the whole place, he didn't regret her choice.

Outside, they found no one waiting for them to finish the job, fortunately, but that didn't mean they should stay. They both ran for a long while in the dark, tripping and crushing against everything, until the ball of fire that minutes before was the cabin was just a distant light in the dark.

"Did you see somebody?" Sheldon panted.

"No, and you?"

"No. So where did that arrow come from?"

"Yes, I saw that...I saw that and that proves it wasn't an accident...I...Maybe I was wrong and you were right..." Kath swallowed. "First they blow him up, now they burn his house down...That guy...That Marvin guy maybe wasn't imagining things..."

Chapter Text

He had been watching the ceiling for long enough, so Brian turned on the light and tried to read a book. After noticing that he had finished the chapter and had no idea of what it was about, he got up, walked to the living room and turned on the television. The programs at that time of the night were not much good, they should have helped him get sleepy, but he still was too nervous to focus on it.

Inside the closet was the object of all his attention: the case which contained the shotgun he had bought.

He had put it away, where he couldn't see it and feel ashamed of having purchased it. He had no idea of why he had done it and waited for hours to pass so the armory opened and he could return it.

However, that thing had such a power over his thoughts that he wasn't being comfortable with the idea of getting rid of it either.

He couldn't take it anymore and changed his clothes, grabbed the shotgun and drove to the woods surrounding Warner Falls.

It was so dark he couldn't see where he was going, nothing more than blurry silhouettes at the most. Hearing his own breathing only made his body hair stand on end. He was probably going to get in trouble with the law. So why was he doing this?

Because it was the only way to end with that itch. There, alone, with the shotgun in his hands, he felt so much better.

The little twigs breaking under his boots as he walked were the only thing that made a sound in that dead night, in that dead place. No stars to orientate himself. No moon. How, then, could he walk around with such confidence?

Because he had been doing this for a long time.

Or at least it felt like so. Even though it was the first time he was doing something like this, it was a familiar feeling, to walk around a forest with no plan and no directions, just feeling the soft breeze, listening to the silence, enjoying the solitude. He guessed it was not the first time. Perhaps his father or his uncle Robert took him hunting when he was small, so small that he didn't remember. Or did he see this on the television and lived it like it was his own life?

Did it matter? No. All that mattered was getting rid of the itch, the craving, the desire.

He felt guilty just for a second. There was no one around. No one to hear, no one to complain, no one to hurt, either.

How natural it felt, to load the cartridge, hold the standard grip and the fore-grip in the right position, close one eye, aim at a tree, then shoot!

The recoil, the bang and the bark of the tree bursting made his heart jump. But it wasn't fear.

He even grinned, satisfied with himself.

He would have done anything for having something alive to shoot at.

Warren didn't like drinking alcohol during work hours, didn't allow it, but this situation was so unheard of he made an exception with his subordinates and himself. He offered Luc a glass and he accepted. He, on the other hand, offered Warren a cigarette but he refused.

"Okay...So..." Warren started to say, but he paused, took several big gulps of his drink and didn't speak again until a good while later. "So...We have like...a homeless, deranged Superman on the loose. A man capable of tearing down a wall made of solid bricks. And mentally sick—that's an important detail we can't leave out. And where is he now? We don't know. And that miniature angel of death, Stewart, took the chance to escape, so I'll correct myself: we've got two deranged men on the loose. Stewart didn't tear any walls but he's dangerous like a monkey with a razor..."

Luc exhaled the smoke and nodded a little bit, slowly, with an absent expression.

"I really don't want to do this but people must be warned. Billy's not a bad man but right now he's dangerous, and I can't let him harm anybody. And the priest, if he started a shooting, nothing assures us he won't do it again. We have to alert everyone. Someone must have seen them. Billy, at least. For Pete's sake, with the mess he's left behind, someone must have seen him!"

Luc was still mute. His eyes were looking at the smoke which ascended towards the ceiling.

"I pray we don't have to shoot him down if we find him. But if he leaves us no choice..."

Warren hushed and gazed at Luc, and he didn't make a sound or say anything. He didn't even look back at him.

"I guess I'll have to paint my nipples with glitter and dance naked in front of everyone at the Square. That should attract him, don't you think?"

Luc nodded and Warren slammed the table with his open hand.

"Damn it all, Luc, you're not listening to me! I keep spitting facts and you're dodging! You're everywhere but here! I know I called you pretty early in the morning but this, I say, this is important, and call me crazy but you should be at least a little concerned that–!"

"My marriage is dead."

Warren raised his eyebrows.

"...Huh?"

With the dramatic ways of a Shakespearian actor, Luc took a long drag off his cigarette and stared into space.

"I did everything at all for her...God knows I've tried to keep the passion alive...I left everything, my whole life, my family and friends, to follow Sylvia to the United States...I knew passion would fade with time, the children wouldn't allow us to do the things we used to do together...Yes, alright. Patience. I don't mind about not being able to take her out for dinner or making love twice a day, like before; but I still hoped love would be there, you know...Like...a kiss every time we left the house, how was your day, darling, a compliment now and then...But...you know...I don't remember when was the last time we sat and actually held a conversation. Lately all we do is argue. We barely see each other and when we finally go to bed at the end of the day, she is too tired for cuddles or anything...I think we grew tired of each other. I think...we never really loved each other. I never thought of giving up until now...I'm asking myself if it's worth trying, all the pain...I'm not even sure I still love her, if I didn't make a mistake marrying her...I've come to think that we are together because of the children...just...mere routine..."

"...Yeah... You definitely have a problem, and I am sorry for you." Warren interrupted him, talking with a soft, slow voice. "But, please, we have a very important issue here, there might be lives at risk. So..."

Luc blinked slowly and, slowly too, considered the situation in their hands.

"...Oui, oui, I am sorry...Uh, sure, we have to...warn everybody..., find Billy and arrest Stewart before they hurt somebody..."

"I hope they haven't done it yet." Warren sighed, and he finished the little whiskey remaining in his glass.

Martin's eyes turned to Treg, sat by his side, his head almost resting on his shoulder.

"Go to bed."

Treg made a funny noise and his eyelids opened brusquely, only to go back immediately to his comfortable posture.

"Nah, I'm fine..."

"You're dozing, Treg."

"I'm not. I'm just relaxed."

"Go relax to your bed." Martin sighed, crossed his arms and leaned back a little bit.

Of course he was sleeping. To him that documentary about European space technology was fascinating but to Treg, of course it was a complete bore. He was only interested in cartoons and quiz shows with good-looking hostesses.

There was just one thing that interested the young man, and that was the place where all those big parabolic antennas were, a barren land.

"I so want to get out of here..." Treg muttered right when Martin thought he had surrender to sleepiness. "Come on, let's talk about the things we will do when we get out of this stupid town."

"'Tell me about the rabbits, George?'", Martin smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"What rabbits? Who's George?"

"Haven't you read Of mice and men?"

"Dunno."

"You're an uncultured punk."

"And you're a smartass." Treg stuck his tongue out at him.

Martin rolled his eyes and satisfied Treg's demand. In fact, now that he was watching that place, he was in the mood for delighting in such fantasies.

"When summer is over and we make enough money, we will leave this town, we will leave all towns and drive off to the middle of nowhere. Because in nowhere the skies are blue, in nowhere there are no clouds or a soul, only plains that extend beyond sight. Just the two of us...Until I get tired of you and kick you out in the first-"

Long roads where one could run freely...That seemed like Treg's lullaby. He had closed his eyes again and didn't open them back again. Martin got quiet when he noticed he wasn't listening to his little joke.

Martin watched only half a minute more of the program before his whole attention turned to his sleeping friend.

The two of them alone...That sounded like one of his terrible ideas. But...

Another distraction. That scent again...He sniffed around. It was Treg! It had nothing to do with sweat or perfume: it was his scent, how he was supposed to smell naturally, wasn't it?

Martin's stomach started to protest.

Why? He wasn't hungry, they had had a good dinner just an hour ago.

He felt an impulse. He tried to fight it but he found himself succumbing. He leaned on Treg, a little bit at first, to later be so close he could feel his breathing. Again, his mouth was getting full of saliva. The scent got so intense it was driving him crazy. Obeying his impulse, he licked the space between the shoulders and the neck and finally sank his teeth into it.

Treg let out a yelp and kicked Martin right in the testicles, making him fall off the sofa with a grunt.

The blue-haired man touched his neck with his brow lowered and mouth opened.

"Dude, you bit me! What?!"

"I..." Martin stammered.

Good thing Treg didn't leave him finish, because the truth was that Martin didn't know what to say. "There was no need to do this to make me go to bed! Ow! That hurt!"

And he got up and, saying nothing else, still rubbing the bitten area, he walked to his bunk bed and, turning his back on him, closed the curtain.

Martin stood up and remained there in silence. He was scared that, inside the confusion, there was a small feeling of frustration.

He tasted Treg and he—liked it.

No. Saying that he liked it was falling short.

He wanted more. He wanted to...

His stomach hurt more than ever, being shown what could have appeased it and having it taken away.

What was wrong with him? The hunger he was feeling...was for Treg! He wanted to devour him!

«Meet me at my house at midnight. I need to tell you something. Don't tell your parents.»

Pratt Street was silent, empty. The Murphies, like most of the town, had to get up early in the morning to go to work and pay the bills, so Pip had to pretend he was sleeping until all sound ceased at his house. Then, he sneaked out as silently as he could. Pip finally got to Mrs. Hart's house. He saw a light coming out of the hall. He crossed the garden, whose flowers smelt with intensity at the last hours of the day, and knocked at the door.

After a few seconds of waiting, they opened but it was not Mrs. Hart who did it. It was Isadore. He quickly got out and closed the door behind him, standing in there like a wall of bricks.

"Hi, Izzy...How's everything?" Pip asked, to lighten the atmosphere, because he was getting really scared.

"Not very well." Isadore replied, glaring at him. "Do you know why? Because I told you I didn't want to see you here, and you came back."

Yes, he had reasons to be scared...

"...I was going to do what you said, I swear, but your grandma loves me, Izzy, and I love her, and I couldn't..."

"You're fooling no one."

Pip was about to ask him what he meant but Isadore didn't let him try.

"I knew from the very moment I saw you, from the start." He said with grunting, whispering voice. "You may have melted my grandma's heart with your flattery, but I know the likes of you. Poor, innocent sweetie pies who are rotten inside, and would do everything at all to get what they want. Lie, pretend...and worse."

Pip attempted to look at the windows, see behind Isadore. "...Where's Mrs. Hart? She wrote to me and told me..."

"She's sleeping. She just needs to drink her customary Magnolia tea cup at night and not even War World III at the kitchen will awake her. It was me who wrote you the note. I used to falsify her signature when I was at school. I wanted to have a talk with you in private and put an end to this, since you didn't listen to me the first time I told you."

Pip drew back, his big blue eyes open wide with alarm.

"Izzy, you're scaring me…I…Why are you telling me this? What did I ever do to you?" He babbled.

"What did you do to me?" Isadore hesitated for a second. "Nothing. Yet. But I don't like you. That's enough reason. I tried to give you a chance to stay away, but you didn't listen to me and now you're forcing me to do this..."

Isadore was getting dangerously close, his eyes flaming with hate. He…Was he really going to hurt him? Pip felt rigid, too scared to run away or scream for help.

But his instincts knew what to do.

It all happened so fast that the child didn't realize what he had done after he saw one the stone cat statues guarding the door in his hand and Isadore lying on the floor. There was blood on the statue and the floor.

Pip's heart beat so hard he felt he was about to have a heart attack, but it relieved him a little bit to hear Isadore groaning softly, though he didn't move much. His hands refused to let go the statue. It took him a little while to move. Even the weight of the weapon of the crime seemed delayed, it took him a little to realize he was holding something beyond his strength. When he did, he dropped the ornament at his feet and ran away, faster than ever before.

When he got to the street, he bumped into a man. The sheriff!

"Hey, son! Where's the-I say, where's the fire?" Warren chuckled.

But Pip rushed away without saying a thing. Warren looked at Luc, shrugged—"the boy's got more rush than a cheetah in flames"—and went back to the conversation the two of them were having, walking past the body lying just a few yards away from them.

"It's not me you should tell all these things, but Sylvia." He said to his partner.

"I know. But...what do you want me to say to her? It's not easy." Luc sighed.

"Yeah, well, you have to tell her, don't you think?"

"But I don't want to hurt her. She doesn't deserve it."

"You have to do it now that you're in time, before you do something you'll regret and all of you get hurt."

"Something I'll regret? Like what?"

"Like your arguments getting really nasty or cheating on her."

"That is too nasty, Warren! I am a man of a single woman!" Luc frowned.

"I know, but it could happen. After all, you French are known for..."

Luc looked away.

"I...I guess you are right. About being clear to Sylvia before this gets out of hand and we end up in court."

"Of course."

«Calling all cars: there's a fire in the forest», the radio attached to Warren's belt trasmitted. Drat!, Warren muttered before him and Luc turned around to run towards their car. They prayed those fugitives hadn't been playing with matches.

Pip felt he couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he tried. He was terrified and confused. Izzy was mad and tried to hurt him for no reason! But he wouldn't find him there, right? He hoped not.

He slowly calmed down and started to think logically. It took him a long while but he managed to come to a few conclusions. First: he made a big mistake running away. He had come across the sheriff and a policeman, he could have explained the situation to them, they would have taken care of everything; he was so close to his own home, where his parents were, and yet he ran away, to the woods, no less, with the beasts. That was stupid; but he supposed that even the smartest man on Earth made stupid things when he was scared, and he was very scared. Second: he had to tell Mrs. Hart. She had never mentioned to him that Izzy suffered a mental illness, probably she didn't know, so he had to warn her. Izzy would never hurt his grandmother, would he? Oh, he didn't even know what to think!

A branch broke and made Pip jump. Something was walking towards him. After a second in which he trembled because he didn't know what to do or where to go, he decided to hide among some bushes. They scratched his skin and the posture was extremely uncomfortable, but he was almost sure no one would notice him.

The very first moment he saw it, Pip thought it was a bear, or, as absurd as it was, a gorilla. But a ray of moonlight furtively escaping the tyranny of the clouds revealed, under a mane and dark, old clothes, a human face. It was no animal, but a man. Something difficult to tell, seeing how the man sniffed around and grunted with drool falling from his mouth at any sound he made. Scared, Pip held his breath and waited anxiously for that...person to leave.

Then, the man-animal cocked his head all of a sudden and breathed loudly through his mouth, listening. Pip heard nothing at all, but someone approached, that was for sure.

"Look, it's the Devil!" A high pitched voice said

Billy grunted at the newcomer like a beast.

"Don't you even think about it." A second voice, as peculiar as the first, threatened him.

Billy's eyes noticed something. Pip didn't know what it was from the position he was in and he didn't consider it was a good idea to move to find out. Whatever it was, it had to be intimidating, because Billy grunted again but softer, with frustration, and didn't move.

"Yeah, you ain't that stupid after all."

They sounded like two children...

"He's acting like himself...The spell is weakening..."

"Gee...This is bad..."

Billy was indeed quite a sight and those two people approached to watch him closer.

They were quite short. Perhaps they were children indeed. But looking closely...

Pip's lips parted and for a second he wondered if he was dreaming. He would have probably believed he was at home, in his bed, if it wasn't for the bush scratching him.

The creatures which appeared before him were two-dimensional, deprived from all color, and only one of them was a human—the other was a cat who wore overalls and a bowler hat and stood on two legs like a person.

He knew their names. That was probably the most freaky part.

They were Beans and Buddy. The classic cartoon characters he had grown up watching.

It was so strange that even Billy stopped grunting and approached to smell them. Did he get any scent from them?

"If he's back to his old habits, probably the rest of the town..." Buddy, the human boy, muttered.

"Okay, okay, Buddy, hear me out. Calm down. He was crazy before. It's alright. This means nothing." His feline partner replied.

Buddy seemed really nervous. He visibly cringed at the sight of Billy.

"It's like what happened with Marvin the Martian. They will think he's just crazy and ignore him." Beans continued, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

"But...The Martian...Daffy Duck and the Bunny listened to him...They even went to his place."

"We should have known this could happen, yes. After all, he's one of the few villains who were given a brain...But it's all solved. He's not a toon anymore. He lost his stamina. He'll not survive the dynamite. It's just a matter of time he...And when he's gone, everything will be alright again. All the others will forget what he said, and no one will ask this one. They will have more important things to think about, will return to their routine and fall into delusion again..."

Billy got so uncomfortably close to Beans' tail that he slapped him and the man yelped first and then roared, but he didn't dare to pounce on him.

"Yes...You're right..." Buddy didn't seem very convinced, though. "But Beans, I wish we didn't have to use dynamite on him. It's not funny when there's blood and limbs flying in pieces...Wasn't there any way to keep the secret without killing anybody?"

Beans sighed. "What did I tell you, Buddy, ol' pal?"

"Not to think about it..." Buddy replied with a bit of shame.

"That's right. We did what we had to do."

"We did what we had to do..." Buddy repeated slowly, like a mantra he wanted to remember.

"Nobody will miss him anyway. A madman who thinks he's an alien, a villain—either way, the people will be glad he's gone."

They didn't mind Billy anymore. Not even Pip, who was listening with attention to all the insane things he was hearing—Martians, toons...murder! So when he heard a small grunt along with a warm, stinky breath on the back of his neck, the child couldn't repress a scream and jumped out of the bush, away from him.

"Who's there?" Buddy shouted.

Their eyes met for a moment. This brief instant was enough for the boy to feel his whole body shake in fear. However, Pip didn't waste a single second. He started running and didn't dare to look back. He ran as fast as he could.

"He saw us!" Beans grabbed Buddy's arm and shook it. "We have to get him! We can't let him go!"

They were so light, so ethereal they didn't make any noise as they ran, but Pip knew they were chasing him.

Billy saw the cartoons run and stood there for a moment, indecisive, before quickly following them.

Isadore slowly got up from the floor and touched his nose. It was swollen, it hurt a lot, so much it made him shed some tears. It was probably broken. He saw the blood on his hand and grunted. But he didn't stop to do something about the bleeding or rest his head. He stumbled out of the garden, into the street, and looked for the child, with the urgent, clear and obsessing intention of inflicting him as much pain as possible.

It took Kath a long while to speak.

"I don't know you, but I am getting really scared..." She said to her partner.

"Yes, I am scared too, because you know what that means? That the explosion might be the way someone made sure whatever is going on here remains a secret..." Sheldon said.

"But what is it, and why is it as important as to have him killed?"

"I don't know. But it has to be big. I haven't felt this way in my entire life..."

"Help! Oh, please, help me!"

Kath and Sheldon stopped to look at a child who was running towards them. He looked so red and his skin and hair were covered in sweat, his clothes were stained with a bit of dirt, and his voice, just like his body, trembled. Kath welcomed him in her arms.

"Hey, what's wrong, little one? What's the matter?"

The boy tried to speak but the stuttering made it really difficult. He tried really hard to translate the incredible things he had seen into words.

And as he spoke, the two toons approached.

"Look! It's the duck! And Bugs' girlfriend! They..."

"Huh?" Sheldon turned his head towards the source of the noise. Two small figures were approaching. He couldn't tell what they were...

Impossible...

"What is...?"

Pip suddenly screamed.

"THERE THEY ARE!"

Beans and Buddy didn't need to talk: they knew the couple had seen them too and would have to do something about it...

"RUN!" Pip cried, pulling Kath.

The young lady was so shocked about what she was seeing that she didn't react immediately. But seeing the terror in Pip's eyes and voice, she quickly followed him. "Sheldon!"

They had always seemed like friendly fellows on the screen, but their intentions were not good at all, they understood it immediately.

It was them! Beans and Buddy, the cartoon characters! It was so fascinating Sheldon turned his head to watch. They were so fast! They were light like the wind. As much as they tried, they couldn't get rid of them.

One of them, the little boy, stopped to hide his hands behind his back—no, he was grabbing something! He had taken a bow and arrow from that empty space behind him!

"Look out!" Sheldon exclaimed. Just in time to hear a swissssh! and the arrow grazed Kath's arm, making her let out an exclamation of pain and surprise.

It seemed they had an unlimited supply in nowhere, because they only had to put their hands inside their pockets or behind their backs to grab the most varied projectiles: a chainsaw, a clucking chicken, a bowling ball, an Indian hatchet...

"What are those things?! What do they want from us?!" Kath yelled, feeling the blade of a scimitar cutting a few of her hairs.

The woman—according to the flyers, Madame Indigo—, had her eyes so squinted as she inspected every inch of Joey's palm that he doubted she could see a thing.

"There is something definitely blocking your energy...But love is going fine. I see your partner loves you dearly..." She finally said.

"I-I am single..." Joey muttered.

That didn't seem to bother Madame Indigo. "And the line of fortune is enviable. Your father's spirit is giving you much strength from the higher level..."

"But my-my-my father is still alive. He's in Mia-Mia-Miami, getting tanned at the beach..."

"Are you sure about that?" Madame Indigo squinted even more, and managed to make Joey very, very uneasy. She continued with her reading. "Ah! There I see it! A backstab from someone very close to you! A friend, a person from your past, with whom you shared many experiences. I can't guarantee a painless future, my dear, but after the pain will come the bliss..."

She charged $25 for that, and she didn't even tell him anything useful. So Joey gave up and, feeling defeated and even worse than how he got into the room, decided to look for José.

There was a small Mexican community in Warner Falls and since the owner of the bar was a Mexican, it had become a kind of gathering point for the immigrant population.

"¡No mames, si es el gordito! ¡Órale, Manuel, acércate a pedirle que te compre una cosechadora nueva!" One of them said, and Joey, who didn't understand Spanish, felt so intimidated he thought of turning back and run away. He would have done so if it wasn't for a familiar voice calling him.

"Señor Joey! Hello!" José stopped him, bottle of beer in hand. "What? Here for a drink before going to sleep?"

"Yes...I mean no...I mean..."

"Gee, are you okay, boss? You look nervous..."

"I...Uh..."

"¿Es este otro amigo de tu hermana, José?" Another client exclaimed, this time directed at José, who blushed out of anger and faced him.

"¡Cierra la boca antes de que te la cierre yo, pendejo! This is no place for confidences...Come, let's go for a walk. Something tells me alcohol won't help in this situation..." José said, and, trying to make Joey ignore his fellows laughing at them, he left the place with him.

"I-I'm seriously thinking of leaving the mayoralty..." Joey confessed once they were left alone.

"Oh, please, don't say that. You are a good mayor. Your term has just started." José replied.

"But look at me! The first cri-cri-cri-cri-crisis and I get so anxious I start ac-acting like a...I mean, talking li-li-li...You see? I'm back to my old hab-habits! I can't do this..."

"You can't give up, Joe. No one said this would be easy. Why do you think all politicians have whiter hair at the end of their terms? I told you you just need to take it easy."

"I-I can't take it easy! I have this feeling inside, th-this anxiousness, this...I-I don't know what it is, but I can't get r-rid of it, here or New York or h-here. I need to stay in an ho-hospital and get rid of it. This has to be psy-psy-psy..."

"You're not sick. Believe me. If you want to go see a therapist, okay, but give yourself credit: you are not mad."

"My mother's ri-right: I can't do anything r-right and I'm just a ball of gr-grease..."

"Don't listen to your mother. Forget about her. Listen to me, okay?"

Oh, dear, how would he raise his spirits? He was so bummed out...Maybe he did need a shot of tequila or two at the bar...José thought and thought. He was thinking when a choir of screams approaching distracted him from an idea he was conceiving. The two men stopped to find three people, a man, a woman and a child running in the streets and screaming.

"Look out!"

Something was chasing them. For a second Joey thought one of them was a monkey. Monkeys in Warner Falls? That was absurd. But then the light of a lamppost revealed what was making that group run. And he couldn't even define what he saw.

"What the...?" The mayor muttered, his jaw dropping.

"HEEELP!" Sheldon screamed. He had scratches in his skin; they surely had been fighting and him and his partners were losing.

They were approaching, something had to be done. Joey was too shocked to move. Luckily, José's brain was fast. They were near a closed garage, but someone had left some cans outside. José grabbed one of them and threw it to the creatures.

He missed, but the liquid it contained splashed them. Suddenly, the two toons stopped screaming and turned around to disappear like shadows in the night.

"What on earth was that?!" José exclaimed, looking at the group.

They were too busy catching their breath to reply, but even then, Kath was surprised and relieved to find herself in the presence of mayor Joe Bailey himself. That should make things easier.

"L-L-Let's go to my house. I don't think we shou-should talk here..." Joey proposed, looking around like expecting those things to pounce on them. But before leaving he could not resist the curiosity and grabbed the can José had thrown: paint dissolvent.

Chapter Text

In Stalling Square, seven-year-old Austin Marley was having the first of the series of dreams he wouldn't remember when he woke up but whose underlying common theme would survive in the form of a little song his brothers said he hummed in his sleep, about the moon-a and the June-a and the spring-a. In the house on the left, Miss Kaydence was also dreaming, or rather having a nightmare about these critters jumping into her arms and shouting: "Hellooo, nurse!". In the house on the right, however, no one was sleeping.

Joey opened the curtains several times every minute to see if those shadows were still around. Even though there were no signs of them, Kath didn't let go of Pip and he didn't want to leave her side either.

"Are you okay?" The girl sweetly asked him again and again, and he always replied with an hesitant yes.

He was much more concerned about her than himself. She had gotten some of the blows and the cuts while trying to protect him. She was lucky to get a few bruises and grazes and that the blade just ruined her hairdo. Sheldon had a bleeding cut in his left arm which José was tending as well as he could with the basic first aid kit Joey kept at home.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" The Mexican asked.

"And what am I supposed to say when they ask me how it happened?" Sheldon replied. "Nah, it's okay. I'll be fine as long as I don't see the blood."

"Suit yourself. I did everything I could. At least it shouldn't get infected now." José said.

"Thanks, man."

"José Antonio Rivera Hernández, at your service—but just call me José." José introduced himself with a courteous little nod.

"Hernández...I would have said Gonzales." Sheldon frowned.

"Why?" José smiled.

"I don't know. You look like 'Gonzales'."

"You saw those things too, right? I'm not crazy..." Pip said.

"Oh, yeah, they were real, you bet they were..." Sheldon stood up and walked to sit on the arm of the sofa by the child's side, looking at his wound.

"I'm sorry you got hurt because of me. But thank you. If it wasn't for you..."

"But what were those things?" Kath asked. "They looked like..."

"Cartoons. I know it is crazy but I am 100% sure those were Beans and Buddy. They looked as flat as they seem on the TV." Pip cringed. "...I've watched them every day since I was very little...I never thought I'd see them in real life and they'd try to kill me...They said...I heard something I wasn't supposed to hear...They said they had gotten rid of a Martian..."

"What?" Kath and Sheldon asked almost in unison.

"Yes, that's what they said...Marvin the Martian, they said they used dynamite on him because he told someone something..."

"Sheldon..." Kath turned her eyes to her friend and took his hands, pale like a sheet of paper. "They attacked us with all kinds of weird weapons, including...Burning arrows! Arrows! They were the ones who almost burnt the hut with us inside!"

"That man was really a Martian...He was not crazy...It's true they are hiding something from us, the whole town...And they killed him to keep the secret!" Sheldon continued.

"And they knew about our conversation, so that means...!"

"What?" Joey had been just listening till that moment and now looked at the three of them. "You-You-You mean that man, Andrews, the man in the amb-ambulance that exploded?"

"Marvin." Sheldon pointed out. "His real name is Marvin. Don't ask me why I know it...I just know..."

"Marvin..." Joey repeated. A strangely familiar name. "He's not dead yet, but...Do-Do you know him?"

"No. I mean, he said I do but I can't remember...It's complicated, Mr. Mayor..."

"N-No, please, don't call me that. This is no mo-mo-moment for formalities. Just call me Joe..."

"Alright. Joe." Kath nodded. "Uh...We really don't know much about what is going on...We are still trying to make sense out of it."

"You already k-know more than I do-do-do...The only t-thing I have it clear is that tho-those creatures were n-n-not human, and it's not just a pra-pra-pra-pra-joke because have tried to ki-kill you. I've been dreaming about one of them...José, I'm po-po-positively sure that's one of the t-things I've seen in my d-dreams these days! You can't tell me it's j-just a coincidence now! Please, tell me everything you know, ev-every little detail, as insignificant as it may seem..."

They really wanted to get it off their chests, so they took turns to share what they had found. First, Pip told the adults what he had heard and seen among the bushes; then, Sheldon told what the Man from the Stars had told him and Kath talked about what they found at his cabin. When they finished, José placed a hand on his mouth in thought.

"So..." He had been listening wandering around the room and then stopped to collect his thoughts. "Let's put this together...This man, he finds out something he shouldn't—a spell, a curse upon this town...Something about a past life, us...trapped in bodies which are not our own? Okay, then...He comes across you...Those cartoons—it can be safe to say they have a lot to do with it. They think he's going to blow the cover and so blow him up to keep the secret, then destroy all investigations he keeps in his place...Cartoons, living cartoons...Fine. And then you three overhear their plans and they start chasing you to silence you too...Is that it? Am I missing something?"

"No, I think that's it." Sheldon replied.

"It's so crazy...So crazy there needs to be another explanation." Pip muttered.

"But what? I know what I've seen and nothing can surprise me at this point."

"W-What do you mean, that it might be true that thi-thi-this is all a lie?" Joey asked.

"Haven't you felt like something is off, like there is something wrong?"

"Well, yes, but it is natural to feel that way. We all got problems." José shrugged.

"But consider this, what if what we think is our life actually...isn't?" Sheldon stood up to talk practically in his face.

"And we assumed identities which are not our own..." Kath said.

"Surrounded by people who are not who they seem..." Sheldon added, narrowing his eyes.

Pip nodded. "Like Izzy..."

"Izzy?" Joey turned to the child.

"My neighbor. Isadore. Isadore Jeffcoat, from Alaskey Street. He lives there with his grandma. He was acting so aggressive to me lately, he forbid me to see his grandma, he lured me into his house to hurt me...He said a lot of nonsense—that's why I hid in the forest...That's what I was escaping from at first..."

The four adults exchanged a look among each other.

"Those of us who have an approximate idea of what's going on have been attacked. What if he is also in on it?" Sheldon muttered.

"Izzy? But he's...I mean, he's done weird things but he's not bad...He wouldn't..." Pip said.

"Yeah, but after what happened tonight, I wouldn't trust anyone, not even myself..." Kath sighed. "If it's true that all that we know, even our relationships, are all a fake, probably he's not a simple neighbor...Maybe he..."

"Do you t-think he's pa-part of the plot?" Joey asked, standing up.

"Well, it seems evident he knows something we don't. No one hates a kid just because...I vote for making him talk." Sheldon said.

"Y-Yes, we must f-find him and see what is happening." Joey took deep breath. "A-All of this goes against all reasoning but f-for some reason it makes s-sense...It could explain w-w-w-why I feel this way, why things seem to be going to he-he-he—badly..."

"The Man from...I mean, Marvin said reason is a trap." Kath said. "The less we see things from a rational perspective, the more we'll be on the right path..."

So there had to be a reason why he saw himself singing that song along with that cat...

In front of a camera...

...With all of those people looking at them closely...

José interrupted this new information coming to his mind. "That doesn't seem like a good plan, but..."

"J-José..." Joey approached him to place a hand on his shoulder. "Y-You've done more enough to-tonight. It's ve-very late. Go home. Y-You don't have to join t-this if you don't want to."

"And you, boss? Are you going with them?" José replied.

"Y-You s-saw that. It's u-unbelievable, incre-incredible. I think in ca-cases like this we should s-suspend disbelief...I am in charge of this t-town, and I want to k-know what is going on, because something in-inside tells me there is s-something going on here...What I am, and what s-surrounds me...But I don't w-want you to waste your time or..."

José shook his head. "Shut up, boss. You're right, what the heck. I saw two moving cartoon characters tonight. Something really incredible must be going on, and I'd be an idiot if I just turned my back on it. If they return, you could use some help."

"Oh, Jo-José!" Joey smiled.

"Don't think about it, amigo." José stood up and looked around. "Well, lady and gentlemen, prepare to get no sleep tonight and be very, very quiet: we are hunting Izzies."

"I think I know how..." Pip timidly said.

It was a strange feeling, like something very wrong was about to happen. Even the weather inspired that feeling: a few claps of thunder echoed, so quietly just the silence of the night could have allowed them to be heard. Perhaps that was what pigs felt when they were put inside the slaughterhouse truck. Pip stopped. He thought he had heard something.

"A CAR! I'LL STEAL IT! NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW!" Someone shouted in a close distance, and then the boy heard tires screeching.

Once he saw there was no danger, he kept walking. Aside from that not so silent thief, the night was very calm, so quiet. Practically dead. At least Blanc Park was.

It was very late in the morning but he didn't feel asleep at all. After all he had witnessed that night, he felt wide awake. His only concern was what his parents would say when they found he was not in his bed.

But if what those strangers said was true, perhaps those were not even his parents. It was ridiculous, but wasn't it silly too, the idea of talking and moving toons, and yet he had seen it with his own eyes? This was not the moment to worry about those things. he took the right turn, prepared to run after a small decrease of the speed to rest his legs, and then…

Then he bumped into Isadore.

Pip gasped and tried to escape but Isadore was faster and grabbed him by the hair.

"Gotcha! Now you're not escaping!"

"Ouch! Let me go!"

"No way! It's time that I return the blow!"

Isadore was big and he was small. Isadore was an adult and he, only a kid. Sure he had hit him with a statue but only because Isadore wanted to hurt him. It was not fair. Not a little bit. So the group made it fair.

José appeared behind him. With the quickest movement possible, he punched Isadore right in the stomach with enough force to make him release the child and pushed him to the ground. After that, he grabbed him by the mustache.

The kid wasn't pleased to see him beaten up, Isadore saw that, but for a second he saw a change in the child's expression. Content, maybe?

He then turned his head to find not only José, but three more adults surrounding him.

"Ah, heck..." Isadore complained in low voice and a tired smile.

"You know what is happening in his damned town and you are going to tell us!" José threatened him.

"Spit it!" Sheldon said.

"Talk about what? What did this kid tell you? He broke my nose, see?!" Isadore defended himself.

"Sorry, Izzy, but you deserved that." Pip said. "Please, I need to understand why you hate me so, what did I do to you? Is it because I did something to you? I know something I shouldn't?"

"I-I'll make sure you do hard time if you d-don't talk." Joey threatened him.

"I know nothing!" José pulled his whiskers and Isadore protested. "Ouch! I promise!"

The group didn't seem to believe him. All around him, he felt their menacing glares.

"I swear! I-I don't come what came into me! I just hate this little brat! I don't want him near my house or my family or me!"

"I did nothing to you to deserve it!" Pip replied. "In any case, I should be the one hating you because...!"

Pip hushed and considered what he had just said.

Why? What reasons did he have to hate Izzy before all of these events?

They had just seen each other in the streets, when he befriended his grandmother...It was not like he had done anything to him...

"...You started..." Pip muttered, frowning.

"I started what? You're the one who came into my life and ruined it!" Isadore defended himself.

"I..." Pip started to say. He went quiet again.

Wasn't it true?

Isadore gazed at Pip for long. He was also considering his own words.

That little fellow came into his life and ruined it...How?

"Hey, Sylvester. Uh, Tedd, Michael and I have been thinking about working the old cat and mouse trope with a different animal. Bob created this little fella some years ago who's got potential and he agreed to play the role of the victim and we were thinking of you as the predator...Are you comfortable with slapstick?"

Sylvester...Who was Sylvester? What did that have to do with him?

José was running out of patience, and pulled his mustache again.

"I don't believe you! Spit it out!"

Pip took a step back, his eyebrows furrowed.

He had seen this before.

Isadore was still mute, his eyes wide open. José had loosened his grip on him, thinking that this felt...felt...how did it feel?

"...Do that again." Pip requested him.

He didn't need to say it twice. José pulled Isadore's mustache once more, with a bit more strength than before. Isadore let out a yelp but it was a faint one, because he was getting this strange feeling that was distracting him from the pain—or rather the pain was the open door to a new feeling.

Explosives going off in his face. His food finding the most painful way out. Tabasco sauce burning up his throat...

Things both Pip and José had witnessed...And laughed at...

His behind getting caught up in a mouse trap—in many mouse traps. Swallowing a bowling ball and rolling down the street...

"F-For the love of God, José, what are you do-do-doing? Stop!" Joey exclaimed, holding his friend's shoulders to try to pull him away from Isadore.

It was a surprise that Isadore himself intervened to say: "Keep going!"

It was like having something in the tip of one's tongue...And pain was showing him...

José was quick to pull his hair. And that made him think...That made the three of them think...

Isadore used to have hair all over his body...And he used to rip it off because...because he...

When did Isadore experience something like this? An instant of pain, yet he was fine the next second and everyone was happy. People laughed...Who laughed? They laughed because he wasn't really hurt, at least not in the way he was now. It was only his pride what was hurt, but that didn't stop him. He was ready to keep trying the next second...

Trying to what?

To get...

To get what?

"More!" He shouted.

This was ridiculous, humiliating and it hurt a lot, but at the same time it was giving him an unusual clarity.

He was trying to get something to eat. A snack. And that snack wasn't willing and defended itself...Defended itself or had others who defended him...

Snack...José's head was aching.

So was Pip's. The child was going pale, could only watch, even if this powerful feeling was trying to make him look away and end the torture they were inflicting Isadore.

He used to watch as Isadore tried to get him, as others shooed him away...

Something clicked inside the child's head. Everyone around him could see it. They saw how his blue eyes opened wide, looking at Isadore—just that they couldn't see the little flashes of memories hitting him like trucks...Of a man named Bob, on whose index finger he used to perch and talk for hours...Friz, who gave him his gorgeous feathers...Of a cat called Sylvester and his creator, a man called...yes, Friz...Of acting in front of a camera, and all the antics going on after they stopped recording, because they were a cat and a bird after all...Of swinging, not in his garden, but inside a gilded cage, with the feeling that he was being watched...That animal always lurking in every corner, waiting for a chance to make him his meal...He had to have eyes in the back of his head because he never knew when he would see a...

"...Puddy tat!" Pip suddenly let out a dismayed cry.

"¡El gringo pussygato!" José exclaimed with his mouth open wide.

"You!" Isadore looked at them two.

Joey, Kath and Sheldon didn't understand what was happening, but it had to be quite an epiphany, because José finally let go of Isadore and took a few stumbling steps back, Pip covered his mouth then looked at his own hands with eyes wide open and Isadore remained sat on the floor looking like he was going to faint any second.

"What? What's the matter with you guys?" Sheldon asked.

"A-Are you alright?" Joey was starting to get concerned at their reactions.

Only Kath was distracted from this, noticing her phone had been vibrating for a while.

"Yes...?"

"Are you Miss Katherine Reese?"

"Yes, I am..."

"I am calling from Harman-Ising Hospital. Your mother..."

Kath's heart sank.

"...What? What happened to her?" She asked.

"Nothing to worry about. She just..."

Sheldon was the one who turned towards her when he noticed she was talking over the phone, with such a face one could have said something bad did happen.

"Okay. I...uh, I'll be there in a minute. Thank you, thank you." She hastily said, and hanged up. "I need to go."

"What happened?" Sheldon asked her.

"My mom's at the hospital. The chemo made her feel shortness of breath and chest pain and got anxious to find herself alone and had a panic attack. Apparently, she screamed until a neighbor heard her and called an ambulance. I'm leaving."

"I'm...I'm taking you, señorita." José offered himself, shaking his head to see if the feeling he had was shaken off as well.

"T-Take this man with you as well, please." Joey requested him, pointing at a still shocked Isadore.

"...I knew it, I knew I shouldn't have left her alone..." Kath ran a hand over her face, then walked towards the door without saying goodbye to anybody or waiting for José and Isadore.

Sheldon frowned, then ran to stop her, grabbing her from the wrist.

"Wait. Wait just a gosh darn second. Remember what Marvin wrote in his log? When you start making questions, distractions start sprouting all around to keep you deep buried in the lie. I got a bad feeling about this."

"To hell with your feelings, and Marvin and all of this stupid story! My mom is not a distraction!" Kath sneered.

"Don't you find it quite a coincidence that this happened right when we are getting closer to the truth?"

"I don't know what the truth is, I've got no idea of what I have seen. All I know for sure is that my mother needs me and I've played detectives long enough!"

Releasing herself from his grip, Kath quickly left the house.

The guilt didn't stop torturing her when she finally was reunited with her mother at the E.R. room. In fact, she felt even worse when she looked at her with her eyes open wide, grabbed her hand like she intended to crush it and pleaded:

"Where were you? Where were you, baby? I didn't know what to do, I thought I was going to die alone!"

"No, no, Mom, you're not dying alone. You're not dying. I'm with you. I promise. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Kath kissed her hands, caressed her pale cheeks.

"Don't leave me. Not you too..."

"I won't. I won't, Mommy..."

She felt so monstrous she wanted to cry...

Her mother caressed her blond hair and, when she found a lock which was too short, she gave Kath a mildly inquisitive look. She didn't tell her how she had gotten that.

In fact...she wasn't sure about it...

Chapter Text

Mrs. Kelly, the head of the animation department, watched with her arms crossed and a slight furrow as artist Dean Tera retouched Beans' skin, which showed some ugly and apparently painful splatters which had eaten his ink.

"And how on earth did you get those?" Mrs. Kelly wanted to know.

"We were playing." Buddy replied, looking very guilty. What was he but a child whose immaturity got him into trouble after all?

"I don't know what kind of games were you playing, but you should know better than to stay close to paint thinner. Use your common sense. Do you got any idea of how scared I was when they called me so early in the morning to tell me my big stars were damaged?"

"We're sorry, Mrs. Kelly." Buddy and Beans said to the unison.

"Bah, it was nothing. See? Like right out of the drawing board." Tera said, drawing back to contemplate his work.

"Thanks!" Beans told him.

"Keep the new movie in mind as an incentive to be a little more careful, okay? After what we've been through before Dwayne Johnson said yes."

Mrs. Kelly ended up leaving after patting their heads. Tera shook their hands, grabbed his utensils and went home too. Left alone in the room, Beans and Buddy's expression changed completely. They only needed to exchange a look to talk to each other about the things happening that night. The bad course things were taking...

"I'll check on him. Make sure he's still uncontaminated. We still got a chance, don't we? As long as he's ignorant about everything...We'll be fine..." Buddy shuddered.

"Fine." Beans replied, almost distractedly. "Buddy..."

"Huh?"

"Porky probably saw us. Or maybe not. Anyway...if he becomes a threat...If something must be done about him...I'll do it. You heard me? He's mine."

Buddy was silent for a second, then nodded.

The sun was coming out. At least, in the outside world. In Warner Falls, where the clouds covered everything, one could only tell it was daytime because the clarity increased.

The sun was coming out and Father Stewart was still very, very, very angry.

He was furious when all those cops pounced on him, and after having to stay in that dirty cell for hours, his mood did not improve one little bit.

"Rackin'-frackin' eejit hasenpfeffer barnacles...!"

He shot without seeing what he was aiming at. He left a hole on a brick wall.

"Blue blistering bell-bottomed doggone flea-bitten balderdash...!"

Another shot. He made a portion of soil jump.

All he had learnt at the seminary, everything the Scriptures taught, even what his good momma taught him, like not to swear—all of that was completely gone. Father Clayton Stewart's head was empty of everything that used to matter to him and there was only rage. It was the only feeling he could experience at all. The feeling everything was wrong. The feeling that his own body was wrong, clumsy, inconvenient and ugly. The feeling everyone was a treacherous snake.

So he wandered the streets, his teeth gritted like he wanted to break them with the force of his own jaw, his hands holding the two pistols tight, willing to shoot at everything that moved, didn't move or just existed.

Because he was angry, that's why.

Everything seemed better under the cold water. Completely immobile, Martin felt it was helping him think better—but for how long, he wondered, before he got those bad thoughts again.

See? There it was again.

His stomach hurt. He was so hungry.

He spent a long time in the shower, just thinking. Something was very wrong with him, and Treg was paying for that. The bite…No, that wasn't an accident; the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was. He knew what he was doing. He wanted to bite him, tear as much flesh as he could and then swallow it. One part of him was utterly disgusted and disturbed by the thought of that; the other, overstimulated by that glimpse of his taste, wanted him to finish what he started, and quick. He had tried to silence his stomach with a generous breakfast, but he found none of the things they had in the fridge were convenient to him. In fact, he pushed them away with disgust. He only wanted one thing.

As he dried himself and put his clothes on, he started thinking about what he would do. Get professional help...Yes, that seemed like the sensible things to do in a case like that. He would have to go to the doctor too, because that hunger was not normal, those thoughts could only be a madman's. He had to do it while he still retained some common sense.

He looked at himself in the mirror and saw a starving wild animal...

Knock, knock.

"Martin?"

Martin didn't reply, so Treg knocked again.

"Martin, are you alright?"

"Treg, go away…"

"May I come in?"

"No."

But Treg opened the door anyway, when Martin was almost done, putting his shirt on. Treg had never cared about decorum or privacy.

"Hey bud, I wanted to apologize." He said. "That hurt, but I shouldn't have shouted at you. I didn't want to kick you in the balls, either. It was automatic, you know?"

"It's no problem, really, Treg. Just…please, leave me alone."

"No, I'm not leaving. I want to make some things clear. I've heard you walking in and out and around the van all night. I know because I haven't slept one minute, either. Have I done something to you?"

"You? No…I…I don't think so."

"Then are you feeling alright? You're not…doing drugs or something like that, right?"

"Of course not, Treg, what are you saying?"

"Because you're acting very weird these days and if it's not something I did or said, it must be because there's something going on."

"No, Treg, I'm not doing drugs and nothing is happening. Why don't you?-"

"You're lying. You don't trust me. Okay...I know I'm no shrink or the kind of a guy people tell secrets to, but I'm here to help you. But you already know that, don't you?" Martin avoided looking at him and Treg moved even closer to invade his field of view. "Like, Martin, you saved my ass when I needed someone, you've been a pal to me all of this time. The least I can do in return is listen if you've got some kind of problem and try to help you. You know you can count on me, right?"

That smell…That delicious smell…Why was he torturing him with that, approaching so much, so he could smell it?

"Treg, please, go away…" Martin whispered, feeling his blood rush.

"No. Martin. I'm serious right now. It may be surprising for you, but I'm being serious for once. Tell me what the matter is, why you are so nervous and weird and hungry."

"I don't even know that myself, Treg, but please, leave me alone, okay?"

"Will you be okay if I leave you alone?"

"Sure, what do you think?"

"I just don't want you to do something stupid."

"Treg, this is pointless and ridiculous. You…oh, that smell, do you do that on purpose?"

"What smell? What are you talking about?"

There was a reason why he hadn't gotten rid of this hitchhiker years before. Treg thought he was the only guy who bothered to stop for him, when, actually, it was him who first made him feel like he was visible. He had had a hard time making friends at school, at college, in his working days, because he was very introverted, unsociable, didn't find anything in common with the other people. He heard them call him names, laugh. Remarks about his scarecrow appearance, his lack of hygiene, his silent attitude which made him seem dumb, his fixation with everything that was logical and had a certain place...That was why his degrees were useless. If you don't know how to handle people, you're doomed. The only thing you can do is get a van and look for somewhere where they don't show the smallest interest in you, not even to bother you, and you can be as dirty and studious and quiet as you want. Look for jobs where you work with your hands on something you don't need to talk to. And then this kid appeared. Treg was the only one who bothered to get to know him. The only one who wanted to talked to him. He didn't think he was a know-it-all or a weirdo. Like...so was he. He got comfortable enough with him to tell him about it. One of the reasons why he left his house. He never shut up, never was quiet and calm, he bothered everyone in the class, his family. They even thought he was hyperactive and made him go see a doctor. He had no friends and no place in this stupid world, either, for the radical opposite reason.

Treg didn't stop approaching until Martin let him in. Martin knew he would never give up on him.

"...Treg...I want you out. Immediately." Martin muttered.

Treg just rose an eyebrow.

"Take your things right now and leave." Martin insisted.

"What got into you?" Treg asked.

"This is my van, I make the rules. I don't want you to stay any longer. Understood?"

He was not supposed to be talking with him. Or watch television together, or play video games, or anything. He was just supposed to hunt him down and eat him. Nothing else...

Treg shook his head in disbelief. "This proves it. You're not right. We were fine last week and now you're kicking me out without giving me a reason. What's going on? And don't tell me it is nothing, because I don't believe you."

Martin wished he could give him a reason, but he didn't know where this instinct came from himself...

Silent, trying to keep that stone cold expression, the oldest just pointed one body finger at the door. Hopefully this would make him see he had lost his time with an imbecile and leave him. He would save himself...

But Treg placed his hands on his shoulders and shook him.

"Martin, I'm not leaving you with whatever it is you're going through, just like you didn't leave me in the lurch back in the day. I'm trying to understand and help you. Please. Help me help you!"

No, he would never give up...

Martin could only do one thing to protect him.

With a strong push which made his shoulder hit the wall, Martin got his friend out of the way and darted towards the door.

"Where are you going?! Martin! MARTIN!" Treg stood up as fast as he could and chased his friend. This was all proof he needed to confirm is friend had gone mad.

He had gone mad...As Martin ran, he a burning feeling inside his chest. A good bunch of feelings, all at once...

He placed both hands on his temples, his fists clenched, and let out a groan. He wasn't a monster. He didn't want to hurt anybody, less that boy who had done nothing bad to him except making his life a lot less lonely and a lot more interesting. He had to be sick. He needed to fix himself...

...No...

The little devil on his shoulder was whispering very convincing arguments to him.

He was better off alone. He was supposed to be on his own. It was in solitude where the brain could work at its fullest potential. Any kind of company was a liability.

Treg was not what he seemed. He was his enemy. He had stolen him time and focus. He was the kind of person he despised. Yes, he hated Treg. There was no way he could have actually felt sympathy for that brat. Brat? That is, if he was even human...

Why did he doubt that?

But the more he thought, the more human attributes he took away from him, until, in the end, Treg was just a thing with no feelings and no rights. Something he could dispose of as he wanted.

His sanity protested. No! But it was an itsy, bitsy, tiny voice which became quieter and quieter until it bothered him no more.

Get him.

Kill him.

Eat him.

His running became walking, then he stopped.

A fine grin grew on his face. Treg was worried about him. How moving. He would let him find him, if he wanted to see him so.

When Mrs. Hart woke up, she was surprised to find the house so quiet. Isadore was usually up at this time to set everything ready for work. However, she approached his bedroom and saw there was no one there. He wasn't in the kitchen or the bathroom, either. Izzy wasn't at home. He had probably left already. His boss was always changing his swift whenever he wanted.
She served herself a glass of tea with milk, some buns and turned on the radio to have some company. She wondered if Pip would be free that day to go take a walk. A sound made her walk towards the door and open it. She watched the streets from the frame sipping her tea with a frown.

All these thunders...Would it finally start raining?

Her eyes then met some big dark drops on the pavement in the entrance. Her frowning grew deeper and she crouched down to touch it. She couldn't identify what it was.

While she meditated, her grandson was in a car with someone he was sure he knew. The other man...he wasn't so sure.

"See? Everything can be solved in life except death and taxes. You complain too much." José told Isadore as he stopped the cat in front of Joey's house.

"Oh, yeah, silly me, complaining about broken bones..." Isadore puffed, his nose bandaged.

"For someone who's supposedly taken so many blows, you complain like a little girl. Unless you are lying."

"I am not lying. I'm telling you I used to get many, many, many of these. It used to be just unpleasant, it didn't hurt this bad and for this long. But of course, you don't know: you were the one who held the mallet..."

"You look like you deserved it. I hate people who hurt those who are smaller than them..."

"I am a cat! Cats eat mice and birds, it's in our nature."

José seemed both amused and disturbed about this—or somewhere in between.

"So...You're saying that the little chamaco was a bird in his past life and I...was a mouse?"

"That's right."

"A mouse. A talking mouse."

"You didn't seem to care about it."

"Hm. I should punch you for calling me a pest."

"But you won't because you know it's true."

"...I remember a cat. A big, mean cat who gave us a hard time...Who is we, I am not sure..."

"The other mice, obviously."

José remained sat, his gaze lost somewhere on the dashboard. Isadore let out a tired sigh and placed a hand on his face.

"I'm not thirty-three. In fact, if I am not mistaken...I first opened my eyes on the drawing board of a cartoonist called Friz...Friz what? Friz something...a long, long time ago...Wait, World War II. I remember being there when they announced war was over. I had just been around for a few months, I didn't quite get what was going on. And that makes me think...That means that old lady living in my house is not my grandmother. My parents never died in a car crash when I was a toddler. I...Suffering succotash, I am a dad myself! Junior! I...I have a kitten! Oh, and I've got no idea of where he is or what he looks like!"

José listened to his laments without intervening. He had enough with his own struggles. He knew about a gringo pussygato who used to do mean things to his people and so he felt in his right to do mean things to him. But...who were his people? Were they even people? Isadore told him they weren't, but he refused to believe it.

Isadore closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. After a while, he shook his head and turned his head towards José.

"You can't fool me: you do remember more than you say. You hate me, and it's not because of what I did to the kid."

"I don't hate you. I just don't trust you fully and I am going to keep an eye on you, in case you try to do something. But...I still think this is all crazy. We can't be fictional characters. It's just impossible. Our lives...It can't all be a lie..."

"That's what I thought. But it's true. It didn't use to be like this. We didn't use to look like this. Life was about something else..."

Life was about something else...Not just working hard to obtain a green card and sustain oneself and a sister who gave people a reason to talk...Putting up with people who thought they were better than you because they were born just a few kilometers upper in a map and worked in an office...

"If you are one more victim of this situation, who did it?" José asked.

"No idea. If it's true the last guy who asked that question was blown into smithereens, I'm not sure I wanna know."

"That's not right. Living in a lie is not right. Someone has to do something. We can't let those who put us in this situation win." José said, finally leaving the car.

Isadore smirked, following him.

"You didn't change much, really...The hero. Always defending the weak..."

"Is that what I was like? A super-mouse?"

"Kind of. Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all Mexico...An icon...Remember that song Pat Boone wrote to you?"

"A song? About me?"

"You used to love it...I mean, when you were a..."

José looked away, sighing through his nose.

"How evil it is, to take someone's memories..." He muttered, ringing at Joey's door.

When they got there, everything was exactly the way they left it. Pip was still sitting on the armchair, his arms stretched on both arms, staring into space, and didn't react when Isadore showed up. Sheldon was still sitting too, and he had not lost that expression of someone who's wide awake in spite of not having slept that night. The only thing that was different was Joey bringing coffee, orange juice and some buns for everyone. Isadore, José and Sheldon grabbed something to eat and drink, but the child didn't move yet.

"...I am not a human being..." He finally unlocked his lips to say in barely above a whisper. "I am a pet...A pet! And a very old one...Gee, am I old..."

"C-Come on, don't think about it now. You're ti-ti-tired, that's all. Go-Go to sleep. Or eat something. Here, I g-got some buns and co-coffee and j-j-juice for you guys." Joey tried to comfort him, offering him what was on the tray of food.

"No, thanks. I feel I'm going to puke..." Pip gently shook his head.

"But what made you remember so fast? Marvin wrote in his log that it took him a lot, and me, I still don't remember a thing." Sheldon said.

"I don't know...But when I saw Izzy, I mean..." Pip looked at Isadore, and he didn't know what to say. "When I saw him, I just saw everything clear."

"Same here. I only needed to experience the same things I used to go through and it was like...click!" Isadore snapped his fingers.

"I'm not getting punched in the face or anything, I'm warning you." José rose his hands.

"It wasn't just that. I've been feeling different ever since he showed up." Isadore said.

"Yes, the same happened to me. Ever since I started talking to Mrs. Hart..." Pip finally changed his posture, sitting straight, his eyes showing a bit more lucidity. "...Her...She contributed...I...That's it! That's why I felt so safe around her! That's why I felt so fond of her! Granny!"

In his voice was such a sweetness that his whole being seemed to melt.

However, Isadore's eyebrows furrowed.

"My Granny..." Pip kept on whispering, now with a smile on his lips. "She was my mistress...The one who kept me safe from all the cats and loved me...She's changed too..., but she's still Granny...I still love her, even if I didn't remember...We lived in the same street for so many years and never said hello, but, deep down, even if we didn't remember, we still loved each other. We just needed to be together again..."

"The Granny's a toon too?" José asked.

"This is ma-ma-madness...Animated animals turned into people! Wa-Wa-Walking and talking around!" Joey exclaimed, walking in circles around the room. "Is that what we are su-supposed to be, all of us? Like Beans and Buddy, those doodles from the te-te-television?"

"We are. I know we are—Or were." Pip replied.

"At this point, I don't know what to believe anymore..." José sipped from the juice like wishing the vitamins would help his headache.

"I don't see m-myself in front of a ca-ca-ca-camera, acting silly..." Joey continued to say.

"I perfectly can." Sheldon smirked. "That's why old Leon liked me better."

Joey's stroll around the living room suddenly stopped.

"...Leon...Leon Schlesinger?" He slowly turned his head towards Sheldon.

"Yeah...Do you know him?"

"...Y-Yes...I-I remember like I saw him yesterday..."

This was very interesting. So interesting that he sat in front of Sheldon and he changed his posture so he could look at Joey closely.

"Everyone in the studio licked his soles, because he was the guy with the money." He started to remember aloud. And helped Joey collect more and more memories.

"He was a-always sm-sm-smo-smoking."

"Yeah, he was. Every time we went see him to his office, he offered us a cigarette."

"It-It wasn't frowned u-upon that the audience saw us sm-smo-smoking back then. Children were not our inten-intended audience yet."

"His office smelt like tobacco, that cologne he bathed himself in and sweat from the artists who showed him their work."

"How greedy he was..."

"Yeah, he paid the staff the minimum and he bought himself a yacht. Heh, and he never let any of us in it, saying..."

"'I don't want poor people on my boat!'!, Joey, Sheldon and even Pip said at a time. The boy fixed his eyes on them, his mouth half open, surprised that he knew perfectly who they were talking about, unlike Isadore and José, who shared an inquisitive look.

"Then he retired, he thought he compensated it all giving us a golden pen and pencil and inviting us to have dinner at his house."

"I think that's the o-only time he was generous." Joey said. "Y-Yet he was still better than the guy who came after him...This...This..." Joey snapped his fingers, trying to remember. "Eddie Selzer!"

"Ah! Selzer! That boring coot did nothing but interfere!"

"Tha-That was the good thing about Leon: he didn't know anything about the ma-matter, but he let us do what we wanted as long as it pro-pro-produced money."

"We had so much fun when he was the head of the department...The guys and us had freedom to get creative. We could act like total goofballs. Even if we worked in a place infected with termites, we couldn't have laughed more."

"Oh, yes, the team was a-a-a riot!"

"Chuck was one of them, right?"

"Sure! And...And Friz, and Bobby, and..."

"Sid, and Virgil and..."

"Robert and...and..."

"But Leon had his temper, alright. He was sometimes unbearable. He took credit for things he didn't deserve. I grew to hate him because it was his fault that he left."

"He, who?"

Sheldon went quiet.

Yeah, who?

Joey gazed at him with his lips parted.

"...I-I knew it...I knew we had met somewhere before...A-At work..."

"You are certainly...Very familiar to me...Now that I think about it...That stuttering is very familiar." Sheldon muttered.

"What about the things that were chasing you? Are those familiar too?" José interrupted what seemed like an intimate moment between the two of them.

"Sure they are! I used to watch their cartoons when I was little!" Sheldon said.

"I mean, something else."

"Actually...No."

"Uh-uh." Pip shook his head.

"Aside from them being famous cartoon characters..., no." Isadore shrugged.

Joey hesitated. He wanted to say yes. But he ended up shaking his head as well.

"I'll ask Kath. Maybe she knows." Sheldon said.

He gave everyone his number and left the house, hoping to fill in the blanks. After he was gone, the remaining four kept on pondering.

"I don't know...But the more I f-find out, the less com-comf-comfortable I find myself in this situation. I know now why the mayoralty fe-feels so oppressing...It's not just that...It's this...b-body, this pla-place...This is not who we are me-meant to be...where we are meant to be...Someone p-put us here, ga-gave us a story, but we chose none of this...We were created for a pur-purpose, and we couldn't be further f-from it..."

"Do you remember your creators?" Isadore asked.

"B-Barely."

"I remember Friz." Nostalgia filled his voice. "He made us like exaggerated versions of himself. Short-tempered, butt of people's jokes...But he was a nice guy. And a professional. He made us film a scene many times because he wanted to do things right."

"Roberto, on the other hand, took clichés and characters known by the audience as a model for us." José said. "He took us to the movies or sat to listen to the radio to study the sources. It was fun. It all ended up becoming a fun day with your papá..."

"See? You are remembering!" Isadore smiled.

"I don't remember any Leon, or Selzer or Friz, or even Roberto, but...I get the feelings, sí. The feelings some people brought me..."

Kath was at home, luckily. And when she opened the door, Sheldon didn't find her dressed in black or anything. That was good news, right?

"You got no idea of what you missed!" He said, just stepping in. "We've been talking all night, and Joe and I have confirmed that we used to be something in the past, and we've remembered some names. Chuck's not the only one. There's also Friz, and Bob and Robert, and..."

"Sheldon. Shel, what are you talking about?" Kath interrupted him.

"It seems talking with others makes things easier. It stimulates the brain cells or something. I can feel it, girlfriend: we are getting closer and closer to the truth. I'm telling you: we'll be French-kissing it in no time!"

"Oh, come on, are you telling me that you actually bought what that guy told you?"

Sheldon's smile started to fade.

"...You're kidding me, right?"

"Between us, Sheldon...You need a hobby. Or a girlfriend. Or both."

"...Uh, should I remind you that you were there and saw?"

"What did I see?"

"The papers."

"Yeah, doodles made by a deranged man who believed he was an alien."

"The walking doodles attacking us!"

"Think of what you've just said. Walking doodles. Attacking people. Seriously, Sheldon, you need help."

Sheldon furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth was left open.

"...You...You're mocking me, right? Tell me this is a joke."

"I'm not joking. You're acting just like him and if you don't stop, you'll end up the same way he did: in the streets, consuming yourself over some nonsense."

"You...You forgot?"

"There is nothing to forget. I was there. I saw nothing. Nothing at all. It didn't make any sense. It's you who's seeing things that are not real."

"It's not just me! The other guys are certain too! You think we're all mad?"

"No, but I think you bought the first conspiracy theory you came across."

"You were not thinking that just a few hours ago...Wait...What happened? What did your mother tell you? Did she tell you something? Did she play any tricks on your brain?"

"Don't talk about my mother like that, warning number one." Kath shook her index finger in a threatening gesture.

"You were fine until she called you!"

"You're going to call my mom an obstacle again? It's so easy for you to say that, huh?: you don't have anyone to take care of!"

"Don't you remember? The guys at Termite...Termite something! Leon! Bob!"

"I've got no idea of who those people are!"

"Kath, I'm serious..."

"Me too. I don't want to know anything about this, alright? Come back when you've gotten rid of all the Martians in your head!"

She pushed him out—she was stronger than he was, he didn't have a chance—and closed the door in his face. Sheldon mumbled exasperatedly and then kicked the door.

"Maybe it's you who's crazy for throwing you life away for someone who's burying you alive!" He shouted, then angrily walked away.

Kath almost opened the door to slap him but contained herself. She just grunted and walked back to her mother's side.

"Who was it, dear?" She asked.

"Nobody, Mom." Kath replied harshly.

Chapter Text

Luc needed a moment, just him and the coffee machine. It had been a long, hellish night. His wife called and he told her he didn't know when he would return home. She didn't need to panic but the situation was...rather complicated.

Honestly? He was starting to consider not coming back home. Ever.

Strange, but the more he thought of Sylvia, the more repulsive he found her.

Then, an apparition.

It was her. Julie. She was bringing the Man from the Star's dog with her on a leash—seeing the discomfort with which she moved and how she tried to keep the animal away from her, it was obvious the decision of keeping it was Wyatt's and not hers; she was probably afraid of dogs.

Their eyes met.

Their hearts bounced.

All tiredness seemed to leave Luc's body in a rocket, while Julie pressed her lips and quickly flashed a timid smile. They immediately walked to each other's encounter, but Warren got in the way.

"Julie! You should, I say, you shouldn't be here. Didn't your boy tell you the situation?"

"He told me two dangerous prisoners escaped last night, yes, but, well, the dog still needs to do its business." Julie replied. "I also wanted to see how you were doing, Warren."

"Horses get the sweet relief of getting shot between the eyes when they're like I feel now, but that's how it is. Nothing ever happened in this town and now everything's going to hell and getting worse day after day."

"Of course I hope Billy didn't hurt anyone but I'm worried that he gets hurt. I know he's dangerous but it's not his fault, it's his sickness. I remember when I was little and he already lived in the street. He said he liked my dresses and my ponytail...My parents didn't want him to get close to me but I used to go to Pierce's candy store and bought him chocolate with my piggy bank money. I don't think he remembers but oh, I think about it and..."

Luc barely listened but all his attention was on Julie. Maybe she was not the prettiest girl in town but she definitely had a certain something. Her cherry lips? Her naivety? The way she looked, with those big, beautiful eyes? Whatever it was, it was hypnotizing. So, so charming. It was funny how he felt better, much more awakened by listening to her and being in her presence.

"Please, please, Warren, tell me you won't hurt him if you find him. Please."

"Can't assure that, baby. If he poses a threat, we'll-"

A tire screech interrupted him. He ran towards the window to find that a car from a driving school was not only running at a higher speed than allowed but surely burning the tires. The examiner had half of his body out the window, pleading for help, while the driver, a petite blond lady with lips painted pink, smiled and cheered like she was having so much fun.

"For crying out-! Gotta go, kid. Be careful, alright?" Warren hurriedly left the police station along with some other officers. The situation was getting worse: two bearded, long-haired guys in a rust bucket and a pretty boy in a Lexus, seeing her go, cheered her and decided they wanted a race. "HEY, YOU, STOP, I SAY, STOP BEFORE I STOP YOU!"

Luc guessed there were enough agents taking care of that. Fine for him, because that way he could be alone with Julie...

"Don't worry. We won't hurt Billy. I promise."

He just couldn't upset her...

A brief moment of silence followed, interrupted by both of them saying at the same time:

"Uhm..."

"Oh, sorry. Tell me." Julie said.

"No, no. Ladies first. What were you going to say?" Luc smiled.

Well, for starters, that he needed a shower, but that was rude and there was no nice way to say something of the sort, right? It had been a long, hard night, so she decided not to tell him.

"Just that...Everything will be alright. You'll see. People will put themselves together eventually. And you? What did you want to say?"

"Me?"

That it scares me how happy you make me feel when I'm around you...

"...Oh, I forgot." Luc replied.

Julie smiled showing her teeth.

"I really admire you."

"Hm? Why?"

"Because no matter what happens, you always have a smile on your face."

That made Luc's smile grow wider. "Someone like you does not deserve a long face."

A while later, when he realized of what he had done, Luc wouldn't be able to tell what drove him to do it, but the fact was this: he took her hand. He took her soft, pale hand and kissed it with much delicacy, like he feared he would break it. It felt so right Luc felt his heart pounding inside of his chest, a bit like the announcement of a cardiac arrest.

A big shiver shook Julie's back, whose lips parted. Luc really needed to stop and take a shower. It was disgusting to be close to him. But all police officers in town were bathed in sweat anyways, and Julie appreciated his kindness enough not to push him away. In fact, she sucked it up and caressed the hand which was holding hers and looked at Luc into the eyes...

Not looking for it but not fighting it either, they were getting closer and closer...

"Hey, babe!"

She almost gasped when she found Wyatt by her side. Luc jumped backwards like the contact with her brought him an electric shock. However, Wyatt didn't say a thing. He looked like he had seen nothing wrong. He just kissed his girlfriend's lips and wrapped an arm around her.

"The Sheriff told me I could go home now. I'll change my clothes and be with you in a second."

"O-Okay, honey..."

Wyatt left but the atmosphere had already been killed.

"Uh...I need to..." Luc pointed at his back with a thumb.

"Sure! I mean...Eh..." Julie's answer trailed off before she finished.

"It's been nice seeing you again, mademoiselle Julie...Will you...come back soon?"

Julie didn't reply immediately. "...If you want to, yes..."

Just with a slight nod, Luc walked away fast.

As soon as he turned his back on her, all the bad thoughts he had been pushing away came to him at once.

For the love of God, you have Sylvia worried at home. You are too old for Julie. Think of your children, mince alors! You have children!

...But...I can only think of her...

"Ready! Let's go! I'm starving!" Wyatt wrapped an arm around her and, taking the dog leash in his free hand, he took Julie out of the station.

She turned back to see if she saw Luc one last time...

"Shall we eat out? What was the last time we had a plan?" Wyatt proposed.

"I don't know if dogs are allowed at Maltese's..." Julie pointed out, trying not to get tangled up in the leash the dog was wrapping around her while running around them.

"Oh, right. Didn't think of that. Then we can eat at home. I'll make pancakes. It's a pity they don't allow dogs everywhere. They can be better than many people."

Yes, Wyatt sure loved dogs...Julie didn't see their appeal. They drooled, shoved their snouts into the dirtiest places, and their barking made her very nervous. She hated it when a big dog came running towards her, her legs started tremble and the owners laughed at her. A dog would have been the last of her choices, but someone had to take care of this one and Wyatt offered himself and she didn't have the heart to say no.

"I used to have a dog when I was little."

"What breed?" Julie asked distractedly.

"I don't know. It was a big one. He was almost as big as a person. His name was...was..."

Julie turned her face and saw Wyatt was frowning.

"What is it?"

"...Funny, it's been so long I can't remember..."

From that moment, Wyatt's merry disposition changed. He looked around him like hoping to find in the streets something that was missing.

Brian did not show up at work until late. It was so strange in someone as punctual as he was. What was more strange was that he didn't tell anybody why. But his employees guessed it had to be something big. He looked and sounded like he had not slept one wink. This didn't change his usually affable behavior, though. He said hello to everybody, asked people about their kids, served himself a good cup of coffee and locked himself in his office to get working on all the things that were awaiting him.

Among those who have been waiting for his coming was Ben.

"Mr. Benson, the deliveryman brought you this."

Brian looked at the envelope and then at Ben in such a way he stood frozen, wondering what he had done wrong this time. Something in his face, a stain in his shirt, a snot hanging from his nose? The fax! That's right! He had been so busy with Larry's report that he forgot to send that fax Rose told him to send! And perhaps he had done something more wrong.

"I heard you were attacked. Are you alright?" Brian asked then.

Why, of course he was staring at his face! The scar was still in there...

"Yes, it was nothing." Ben replied, calming down.

"I'm glad to see you are unharmed." Brian almost sounded like his father. He looked at him with such tenderness and worry one wouldn't have told he hadn't been aware of his existence just a few days before. "Heh...You know? Now that I see you...I get the feeling that you and me have met before." Brian commented, crossing his legs while staring at him.

"I don't think so." Ben muttered.

"Think. Maybe in another company? Monroe & Ross? Scriber I.N.C?"

"Never worked there."

Whitby...Whitby...

"Huh. You're probably right. Sorry. Thanks a lot for bringing me this. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, Doc."

Brian rose his eyebrows with surprise as Ben, not noticing that word escaping from his throat, closed the door.

He had the feeling that he wasn't wrong. He was positively sure he knew this guy from something. Someone who used to call everyone 'Doc'...

The effort to remember was being fruitless and it was giving him a big headache, so he decided to just stop thinking about it and get to work himself. He had a good pile of reports on his desk that needed his attention, a whole agenda full of people he had to call...

But his attention went back again and again to the shotgun on the trunk of his car.

He had spent the whole night walking around the forest, looking for something to shoot, settling for the trees in his way, escaping from the ranger. It had felt so good he didn't realize daytime had come was until he checked his watch and, like waking up from a dream, he had to run home and change his clothes. Hide all evidence of what he had done. People would have thought he had gone mad, showing up at work with his boots filled with mud and that shotgun.

...Hadn't he gone mad, really?

Because he had just left it and he wanted to shoot that thing again...

Ben, on the other hand, walked out of the office to find Terence in Daniel's place.

What made him interested was that Daniel wasn't around. After looking around, not noticing invisible Ben Whitby, Terence started to grab things from his coworker's desk. The stapler with all staples boxes he could find, a paper sheet pack, the can where he kept his pens, and a stamp. All of that he tried to hide inside his shirt, like he really believed nobody would find his flat, protuberant stomach suspicious.

He turned around to leave, and then he bumped into Daniel's corpulent body.

Daniel was a guy who never spoke above a whisper, and this time he didn't speak either. He just looked at the bulges in Terence's body from behind the curtain of red hair covering his face and, suddenly, punched him in the face.

Needless to say Terence gave him every little staple back without uttering a protest.

Ben was really curious to know where this attitude came from but he guessed it was none of his business and just walked to his desk. It was quite a sight, that big, muscled man acting intimidating for the first time in his life and the slender, polite, reserved coworker taking what was not his.

Back to his spot, Ben realized Terence and Daniel were not the only ones who were acting weird that morning. What about Oswald? He was typing on the computer, but his mind was not there, it was evident. He was shrunk, as if he was cold.

"Oh, Ben..." He told him as soon as he saw him, slowly, like marking every word. "Don't you feel like there's something...?"

"Something what, Oswald?" Ben asked.

"...I don't know...But I feel like there's...something missing..." Oswald touched his chest and back, almost as if he should have been wearing something over his shirt.

It was indeed a strange morning, Ben thought. Not that there was something missing, but...

And he would have confirmed it really was a weird morning indeed if he had looked through the window. He would have found a two-dimensional cartoon peeping.

The cartoon ran for cover when someone exited the office. A corpulent man who looked around him before heading towards the trash cans. There, hidden among some cardboard, was a black and white tiny kitty which meowed the very second she saw him, like she had been expected him. The man's severe expression shifted into a soft smile. Now that there was no one watching—or so he thought—, he gave the furry little dear part of his own lunch and caressed with with one finger, then took it in his two big hands in such a way he could have successfully hidden it if it wasn't for that something letting out a soft meow and the only thing one could see from the animal was her little black, furry tail slipping through the space between his fingers.

Buddy, taking advantage of his enrapture, slipped away.

It didn't matter if this one-shot character went back to the old habits, as long as Ben Whitby stayed as Ben Whitby, he thought.

He had free time. He guessed he could...

He hid again, among some bushes, when he came to see her.

Not the girl with red hair and ugly face who was pressing her finger against the glass window of the puppy store and shouting they were so cute she wanted to die. No, the friend who looked at her and laughed. The girl with the shoulder-length black hair and big, cheerful eyes.

Her smile faded and turned around. Buddy quickly hid further into the bush.

The black-haired girl seemed to squint, trying to see if there was something in there, until her friend called her attention and she looked back at the puppies, telling herself she had surely imagined things.

Despite everything, she was just as pretty as he remembered...

Sheldon fell asleep on the toilet. Sat in there, he had the strangest dreams. He still thought about them when he woke up with a jump. What time was it? It didn't matter: he didn't have a job.

Half asleep, he walked to the basin and splashed water on his face to see if he could wake up that way. It worked—just a bit. He kept thinking about all voices and images in his dreams.

Dreams...That was it...Just dreams...

No, he told himself. Those were not just dreams. That was not just his imagination. It was real. It was all real! That was all that remained from his past! He clung to it. He didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to forget like Kath. That thought terrified him. No. He didn't want to forget.

He tried to remember Chuck's face and couldn't. He tried to remember what he had read at Marvin's hut and it was no use.

Did that really happen? What if it was just one more dream?

He checked his phone. He had the mayor's number. See? Everything that happened that night was real! Why else would he have that guy's number?

Marvin, Marvin...He couldn't remember his face either.

But he did remember his eyes.

"Look, bud. I have already claimed this bit of dirt for the Earth, and there's just not room enough on this planet for the two of us."

"I do believe you are right!"

"Heh! Little does he realize that I have on my disintegration proof vest. You may fire when ready, Grizzly!"

"Cut! It's Grisly, Daffy. Not Grizzly."

"Ooof! Darn it! Sorry."

"It's alright, Daf. Let's run through that again, from 'I claim this planet...'"

Marvin chuckled before going back to the original position, with that quick pace of his.

He had been created to make things more difficult to someone who was used to make fun of brainless fellas...In a short movie about the space, it had all sense that he intervened. There, a certain chemistry became evident, which gave way to more collaborations together. His nemesis...His workmate, it could be said...Yes, there was nothing personal, ever. Some guys just were made for the role of the bad guy, even if they are nice. Marvin was a nice guy. He didn't deserve what happened to him.

There was someone familiar in there. He had been with him many, many times. With him, he did have some big chemistry since the very first moment. The yin to his yang, the white to his black, the calm to his tempest, the reason to his madness. He couldn't believe he wasn't able to remember his name. The stuttering...He always stuttered...Couldn't help it...

Porky! Porky was his name. Porky! He wouldn't forget it. He wouldn't forget him.

The people recording...The prompter, the director, the cameraman...Who were they? Their faces were in a blur...

The names they had mentioned hours before, they started to leave him.

Leon...

"Leon, you oughta be glad to get rid of Porky. How about me taking his place?"

Leon...Who was the guy Leon...What did he do to him, again?

He let out a desperate cry.

"Whoever you are, help me!" He shouted.

He said he would always be around if he needed him...Even if they were apart...

He woke up on a drawing board. He hadn't shown any signs of life at first. The artist was confused. He waited, touched him with the tip of his nib, hit himself in the head with the other end of it, but nothing happened. He came so close that the tip of his nose touched the paper. It was then when he bit it. He jumped out of the board with a 'woo-hoo!' and started bouncing all around. Made a mess. Knocked some ink bottles. The man in front of him didn't seem upset. He chuckled.

"You're my best creation. Between us, Porky's too well-mannered."

Who would have told, seeing him...He looked like a balanced, polite almost shy person. But he was a total screwball. Just like him. He had all of these crazy ideas. His mind was a complete madness pit. There were so many things he wanted to try and Porky sometimes didn't fit—that was why he created him.

"I'm not crazy, I just don't give a darn!"

"Tex!" He said aloud.

He repeated that name again and again, so he wouldn't forget it. Tex. Good old Tex. The one who seemed more like a little devil who suggested him mischief to do than a supposedly rational and responsible figure. The one who, when he posed a double chin and pretended to draw doodles, responded walking around swaggering to mock his duck pace. Rather than his creator, his friend. Now he remember what Leon did. He didn't like the ending to one of his shorts. He said it was obscene. Tex didn't like his wings being cut off and it wouldn't take long for him to leave them. He, on the other hand, stayed at the studio. He was property, after all.

"Don't forget me..."

"How could I ever forget my favorite duck?" He smiled, and right when Daffy thought that he was going to give him a hug, squeezed his beak, making it sound like a honk, stole it from him and ran away with it.

They kept talking, yes, although not working together, him getting involved in so many projects, kept them apart. And perhaps he didn't want to worry him with his personal issues. Or didn't think a loon like him would understand. Sons dying from an overdose, stressing delivery periods, wives leaving, the regret of having worked too much and been with the family too little...What did a toon know about that? He started drinking too much. Something which is fun to see in a cartoon but not in a human being. He didn't know it was a problem until it was too late. Until they told him it was not the heart attack what killed him. He had no idea it was that bad. He didn't know Tex, lunatic, funny, good-tempered Tex was suffering so. He was born to lift people's spirits. He could have helped him...He would have been there, had Tex told him...

He realized tears were falling from his eyes.

He made Tex promise he wouldn't forget about him and he forgot him..."I didn't want to forget you, Tex, I swear! They made me forget you!" He shouted to the ceiling.

He had forgotten about everyone. Friz, Chuck, Bob, Robert...All the fun they had together. The cartoons they filmed just for their private pleasure, where they swore and did what was not allowed. Them dressing as the colorists, which at the time were all women...The drinks together, the laughter...One had to be a total loon himself in order to create them...

CUCARAAAAACHAAAAA!

Don't shush me! I'LL MAKE ALL THE NOISE I WANNA!

Duck Dodgers. The Scarlet Pumpernickel. Stupor Duck. Duck Twacy. Western-Type Hero.

All the things he had done!

Mocked everyone. Tricked everyone. He was not the kind of duck who was willing to be served for supper.

And people loved seeing that. Before him, toons were just like flesh and bone actors: they took themselves too seriously. He was a revolution. «Have you seen that duck?» «I've never seen something like this before.» «My stomach still hurts from laughing.» «That duck was hilarious! I loved him!»

Greetings!

My name is Daffy

There's no other duck like me

Because I'm so daffy

The applause...

The praise...

How good it made him feel...

He caused trouble and he had so much fun doing so. Tex used to say it. He was a crazy-darnfool...

The reflection on the mirror suddenly seemed like a good reason to gasp. He drew back, tripped with his own feet and fell on his butt.

Mrs. Reese was watching television and Kath was sweeping the floor. She tried to avoid thinking, but the bad thing about having Sheldon as a friend was that he always made his way into her house and her mind whenever he pleased.

Cartoons! Past, glorious lives! Conspiracy! She wasn't surprised he had become enraptured by all those tales. After all, what did he have? An empty life. No job, no girlfriend, barely any friends apart from her. Nothing. And in those fantasies he could be something.

She wouldn't let herself fall for that. Would it be nice to know she was something more than her mother's keeper? Yes. But it wasn't bad. It was her duty. What a good child would do for a sick mother. And more after the father left the house following the first broad he found.

Her face everywhere, girls admiring her...Yeah, cool, but who believed that?

Some dreams just don't come true.

She was nothing more than her mother's caretaker and would be until she recovered...or until she succumbed to the cancer.

What a horrible remark! Every time she thought of it, she was horrified at herself and refused to even think about the possibility that her mother didn't survive. That made her double her efforts to take care of her, so she would recover and had nothing to hold against her. No one could say she didn't take her responsibilities.

Basketball was just a hobby. She couldn't feel miserable for not being able to play a stupid game.

It wasn't stupid. They were in danger. They needed her.

She looked at herself in the mirror. In all modesty, she saw a beautiful woman with a nice body, still young, still active. People thought a beauty like that couldn't wither taking care of a sick old lady, but what did people know about love and duty?

They had always thought wrong of her due to her looks. Not her fault, but of those who drew her—what kind of pervert finds bunnies sexy?

She shook her head and groaned. Bunny! She was not a bunny! She was a woman!

But it was true, people used to howl like animals at her. Looked at her like their eyes would pop out of their sockets. They didn't need to be a rabbit to appreciate her curves. She knew how to play basketball far better than all of them but that didn't seem important. Even those she thought would be a little more serious fumed about the decision of wearing baggier clothes which hid her attributes. Like there was nothing more to her than her appearance.

She had had a hard time being respected...

"What is with the script? I am not funny, I sound like I have a real retardation!"

When did that happen? ...Did that happen?

Yes, it did. She could remember how furious she was clearly. She wanted to show she was more than a pretty face, but she had her dignity and was angry that she had to do this. But who can argue with the big fish? If you don't like it, there's the door, they say. Good thing that the fans were a lot more supportive. There were perverts, of course, but others said she was an inspiration. She remembered this letter form a ten year-old girl from Germany, called Anna, who made an effort to write in English to her, who told her she had started playing basketball inspired by her. So many other girls who thanks to her knew they chose their own limits.

What was she saying?

It felt so good playing basketball...She was born for that. She missed it so!

She was good enough to make a difference, help the team win that super important match. Air Jordan himself was proud of her!

Michael...The Nerdlucks...That happened! That really happened! She wasn't imagining things!

Bugs pushed her out of the way when one of them tried to crush her!

Bugs...

Bugs!

Bugs Bunny! A bunny like...

She dropped the broom. She almost felt she was going to fall flat on the floor too. Stumbling like the house was moving, she made her way towards the door.

"Kathie?"

She stopped upon hearing her mother's voice.

"Where are you going now?"

She didn't reply. She was sure now that her name was not Katherine.

She tried to continue her path.

"...Are you leaving me alone again?" Mrs. Reese made an effort to stand up. It was very difficult for her to do so.

"You...You are not...really my mother...Are you?" It was impossible that she heard her. She was whispering to herself.

"You are leaving just like your father, aren't you?" Mrs. Reese was crying already. "I understand. It must be hard to throw your life away for someone like me..."

Kath's heart ached. She wanted to turn around and apologize.

But she didn't. She focused on that name, Bugs Bunny. And she continued walking.

"I love you, baby, I have always loved you. I'm sorry if I ruined your life. Luckily, I'll be dying soon and you'll be able to live your life..."

The more hurt her mother sounded, the more frightened Kath felt. This was being very hard, but she kept moving. She didn't turn around.

"Kathie...Katherine...!"

She hesitated before placing her hand on the doorknob.

"Kathie, please, don't leave me!"

Lies! They were only lies!

Her name was Lola, not Kath!

She burst the door open and, behind her, a big howl hurt her ears. She turned around just in time to find her mother swelling up until her skin burst and a black splatter stained the walls and the floor of the hallway.

She felt out of breath, didn't know what just happened. But she understood enough.

She ran out of the house and towards Sheldon's. She slammed the door with her firsts, calling his name until he walked out, deadly pale.

"Sheldon! You were right! Marvin was right! There's something horrible going on here!" She exclaimed.

"I'm not Sheldon!" He grabbed her by the shoulders like he was about to fall. "I'm Daffy! DAFFY!"

Chapter Text

It was probably just a matter of time that they found each other. Father Stewart did nothing but shoot those pistols, and Ol' Billy was attracted by loud noises.

It happened in Pérez Avenue. The wrath that had made Father Stewart lose his mind had not faded one bit. In fact, when he saw all the people screaming and hiding after seeing him, a sadistic pleasure in asserting his dominance made him shoot bullet after bullet and feel it was far better to bring fear through a couple of six-gun pistols than all stories about Hell and the Devil.

Billy felt attracted by the sound of many victims screaming in fear—it could have been said that their fear itself which exuded from them was what attracted him. And he appeared, growling like an animal, feeling the urgent desire of feeding with everything that was or at least seemed alive.

Father Stewart, who once used to give alms and coats to Ol' Billy and felt nothing but Christian compassion towards him, now wrinkled his nose in disgust at his sight. Billy, who only had words of gratitude and praise towards the Father and followed him around like a pup, licked his drooling mouth in anticipation.

"Slither back to Hell, ya varmint!" Father Stewart shouted, and directed his guns at him.

He was faster than he thought. He missed the shot and, when Billy started spinning around himself like a killer hurricane, he almost missed a few limbs. He fell on the ground and Billy leapt on top of him with his jaws open wide, letting a cascade of drool fall over his face.

"Disgusting dirty galoot!" He exclaimed, and shot.

The bullet didn't kill Ol' Billy—unfortunately. It just hurt him very bad, when it marked his face, leaving a bleeding scar he touched with surprise. It seemed he didn't expect the little servant of God to put up a fight and having considerable chances of winning. It seemed, after all, he was still able to think and so, considering his choices, he decided to retreat for the moment, in order to wait for a better occasion to get this prey.

"Come back here and fight like a man, you gorilla project!" Father Stewart faced him, running after him.

It was difficult to catch up with someone so fast, and he lost him soon...

Mrs. Hart closed the book and looked around her. In that silence, only the clock tickling on the wall could be heard.

It was late, and Izzy wasn't home yet. It was almost dinner time, where could he be? If he had plans with someone, he should have told her...

She took her phone and called.

Isadore's ringtone was heard not very far from where she was. She searched around the house and found it on his pillow.

He left without taking his phone? He knew she didn't like that he was disconnected.

She frowned. This boy was starting to worry her! With all the tragedies and macabre events she heard on the news, she just wasn't calm, couldn't be calm until her Izzy was back.

He couldn't have gone far. All of his friends were from that town, and Warner Falls wasn't that big.

She put a cardigan on and grabbed an umbrella, for the thunders were becoming so frequent it was possible this could be the day when it finally rained, and got out of the house in his search...

Treg came running into the repair shop.

"Hey! Have you seen Martin?" He asked Martin's coworkers.

Vásquez turned his head slowly, so, so slowly toward him, his hands stained with the oil from an engine he was supervising. He was so desperately slow Treg turned to his partners instead.

"Have you seen him?"

"Well, no, he hasn't come today." Hal replied, a cigar hanging from his lips.

"He's not here." Vásquez finally replied.

"Why? Did something happen?" Hal asked.

Treg had no time to lose with explanations. He left the men without listening to their demands and kept looking for his friend. He had to be around, somewhere!

He peeped into the bookshop, Martin's favorite spot, but he wasn't there. He wasn't at the park, or the church. He passed by the car lot, where a short, hairy man was slapping another man who was almost twice his height.

"What did I tell you, Junior?! I told you never to say that to a potential client!"

"Aww, sorry, Pops!"

Martin had to be around, somewhere! He couldn't have just disappeared!

He saw a boy jumping a fence to raid someone's chicken coops, but completely ignored it, too.

But there was one thing he couldn't ignore. A couple of...he didn't know what. He could have bet his legs those were Beans and Buddy, his favorite cartoons, but that couldn't be...could it? They looked like they were flat, deprived from any real deepness and color—like straight out of the TV. He stopped to watch them. They didn't notice. They were involved in some heated conversation. They seemed nervous, both of them. He saw them lifting the fence which kept the water tower protected from trespassers.

He hesitated, and in the end decided that, since those were not what he was looking for, he could think about what he had just seen later and focus on his friend.

The group was not at Joey's house anymore. Apparently, Joey had an unavoidable meeting and had to leave. José was also supposed to be working; although the things happening that night had made him question everything, he still wanted to keep his job, and wanted to be with Joey in case he needed him. He brought Pip and Isadore to his box. He told Sheldon on the phone when he called him that he didn't trust the cat to be left unsupervised, in case he wanted to get his hands on the little guy again. Sheldon told him that him and Kath were on the way.

There was something weird about the way he announced their coming. He sounded excited. It seemed something happened. Them finally showing up at the town hall, Sheldon talking very loud and very fast confirmed it.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, compadre, I can't understand a word you say, what's the matter?"

"Where's the mayor?" Sheldon asked, catching up his breath.

"He's in a meeting with the sheriff and the Emergency Committee. They've been talking for a long while."

"Is something wrong?" Pip was afraid to ask.

"Everything! Everything is wrong!" Sheldon shook him like they shake olive trees. "Now I know everything they've stolen from me! My name! My friends! My beautiful feathers! My career! Of course I am not Sheldon! I am a work of art!"

"What got into you, señor Sheldon?"

"Sheldon's all fiction!" Sheldon turned around and looked at José with eyes that almost popped out of their sockets. "He never existed! Of course! I see it clear now! They trapped me in the body of a loser! I am supposed to be an adored public figure with a stunning career! And you, sir, I'm telling you you are a mouse with a little hat and little pants called Gonzales, not whatever lie they told you! I don't know who did it but they are going to undo this!"

"Glad to see you're back, Daffy!" Isadore smiled.

"We are back! Lola is back too!" Sheldon said, pointing at Kath.

"Well, I still don't remember a lot of stuff—just enough to know my real name is Lola and not Kath." She replied.

"That's still something." Isadore said. "What made you remember?"

"That's what we wanted to tell..." Kath was starting to say, when José left for a moment and quickly returned.

"They are out." He announced, pointing at some people who were leaving the meeting room, Warren included.

The sheriff seemed really, really tired. He stretched out his limbs, his mouth wide open to let a yawn out. Just that he didn't count with a big crow coming out as well. He shut his mouth and looked around him, embarrassed and just as surprised as everyone else.

"Are-Are you alright, Sheriff?" Joey kindly said to him.

"Ahem, excuse me. The sleep deprivation, the stress..." Warren apologized. That was a stupid thing he didn't want to do, really, but he just couldn't help it.

"G-Go get some rest, you deserve it. I'll get you help, I promise. Thank you for your s-s-sacrifices."

"Anything for my town."

Warren looked sideways at the curious group waiting to pounce on the mayor.

"Porky!" Sheldon practically jumped into his arms.

"T-T-T-That wasn't nice..." Joey complained about this greeting.

"No, I'm not-! Don't be like that, you silly!"

"He's right, he's not insulting you, that's your real name! You're Porky! You were a pig! I remember!" Kath came in his defense.

"Of course I knew you, and I can't believe I forgot about you after all the things we did together!" Sheldon continued. "Catching bad guys, exploring planets, going hunting...!"

"All of that?" Joey surely didn't remember.

"That and more! You forgot about it but can still remember what it felt like, right?"

"I've come to remember something. I don't know if the same happens to you guys as well." Kath said, looking at Isadore and Pip. "I remember Porky being the guy who taught me everything I should know about our job, our place, because he was the guy who had been around for the most time."

"Yeah, that's right, you were the first to shake my hand and introduce me to the staff." Isadore remembered.

"You were the veteran." Pip nodded.

"W-W-Was I?..." Joey muttered.

"You know what I think? I think you know more than you say." Sheldon interrupted Joey when he was about to protest. "You're the oldest here, you sure have seen things we haven't, and probably you know what Beans and Buddy have to do with all of this, why we saw them walking around and why they did what they did."

"This mental fog...It is like playing Marco Polo. You're blind, and you need someone to step out of the dark. That must be why Tweety and Sylvester here remembered so quick after their paths crossed. Or the reason why you guys have been getting all of these little pieces back. When you have shared a lot with someone...When someone has left an impact on you...You may forget that person, but there is still a trace in our souls..." Kath said.

"Mine is Bugs...I wish I remembered more of him..." She thought.

"You told me you had seen that cat in your dreams." José intervened. "And now I doubt you were just dreaming of cartoons you have watched. What is it? Think?"

Joey frowned. He took a seat in the closest bench and closed his eyes in thought.

Where had he seen those cartoon characters?

Yes, the studios were like an endless party. They had so much fun coming up with these ideas, shaping them...The guys had really funny ideas. Sometimes, the toons themselves improvised and the result made them cry of laughter. Selzer didn't understand this. "What in the Hell does all of this laughter have to do with the making of animated cartoons?", he once nagged. He was shy at first. His stuttering made people and himself nervous. Leon didn't like all the film wasted on him. They hired Mr. Blanc to help him control it enough for keeping the comical aspect of it and let the cartoon progress. He was a good acting teacher. Almost all of them ended up receiving his lessons, along with Arthur, June, Bea, Stan... The other guys—the directors, the writers, even the errands people—were so kind to him. It was like a family. They were so, so nice and welcoming. They helped him feel sure of himself, not to dwell in his mistakes. "We are making comedy," Bob used to say, "you can't take yourself too seriously." There were only smiles around him...

...Except...

"...There was a boy..." Joey finally muttered after spending some time in complete silence.

"A boy?" Kath asked.

"Yes...All o-o-of us were anim-animals...He was the only hu-human toon around...But he w-w-w-w-wasn't with us...I saw him just once or twice..." Joey paused. "He ne-never once smiled at me..."

In fact...Every time he said hello...He glared at him and turned his back on him...

"What about the cat?" Isadore asked.

"I don't remember him." Sheldon said.

"...The c-c-cat?..." Joey whispered.

Paul Revere's Ride had never sounded worse than in his lips. The people behind the camera snickered. The kids in class snickered. One was particularly nasty about it...A black cat...Wait, there was a female one and a male one, almost identical, except for the clothes. Yes, the male...We made some other films together...In that one, we were students. In another, he was the father of his love interest...A competitor in a race in the snow...Soldiers, both of them...Pioneers...But there was one thing in common to all those cartoons: when the director shouted 'cut!', he would always shake his hand and praise his good work...

"...Beans...He...We filmed some movies together...B-Before you were drawn...We were ve-very young back then..."

Beans...Always laughing...Always joking...He used to admire his confidence...They were a duo, and he played the most prominent role—just like in the movies they made together...

"He...He was my friend..."

"And then?" Pip asked.

Joey slowly opened his eyes and looked at his partners.

"...Then...He wasn't—I-I guess...One day, I just s-s-stopped seeing him...I never s-s-saw him again..."

The group exchanged a look.

"Until now." José said aloud what everyone was thinking.

Sheldon burst the door of the town hall open.

"We gotta find those two." He stated firmly.

"Well, y-y-yes, we should find them, but how are you going to fa-face them?" Joey asked them.

"I remind you we are flesh and bones now." Isadore told him, pointing at his own broken nose. "If they throw a safe to your head, you won't get up flat, it'll be game over."

"You got to shoo them away! Paint thinner! The Dip, don't you remember?" Sheldon said. "If there's one good thing about this situation, it's that we're now immune to it!"

"But Daffy, the Dip's a very horrible thing! Will you use it against a fellow toon?" Pip asked, cringing.

"They started, doing this to me!" Sheldon replied.

"Use your head, Sheldon, we need a plan or all of us will get killed! Remember what they did to Marvin!" Kath insisted, wanting to slap Sheldon to calm him down.

José was about to say something when his gaze met a young man, arunner, who was running around, inspecting every single corner, peeping into other people's property. A name crossed his mind and ended up on his lips before he could repress it.

"Road Runner?"

Treg stopped and turned his head to the Mexican. After a short hesitation, he approached.

"...Do I know you?" He asked.

"...Yeah...I think so...We had a race...A long time ago..." José said. Yes, he remembered a race, in Baja California. The sun was burning, there were a lot of technical difficulties, but he had the feeling it had been lots of fun.

Treg tilted his head in thought. As the two of them spoke, the rest of the group struggled remembering who this individual was. It was the blue hair which gave them the crucial clue. A blue lightning. Most of the time, he used to be nothing else. A very difficult bird to catch, indeed. It wasn't usual to see him staying still and know he was even a bird and not an illusion. Road Runner...Road Runner! He was fast! They didn't know much about him, being always too busy running to socialize, but if José was acquainted with him, perhaps he could convince him to help them. He could find those cartoons in the blink of an eye.

"Ah! Yeah! I remember!" Treg finally replied. "Uh, hey, have you seen a guy with hair this long, bags under his eyes, unshaven..."

"Uh, no, we've seen no one." Pip replied.

Treg allowed himself to stop for a second to lament. "He couldn't have gone that far...He must be around, somewhere..."

"Who?"

"My pal."

It wasn't just the Road Runner. The Road Runner was just part one of a duo. Road Runner and...

Oh. It seemed Pip and José were not the only ones being chased by something with claws.

Running in the desert, side to side with a blue lightning...A gringo pussygato and coyote chasing them...The race was fun but it was hilarious to see all their attempts to eat them fail miserably...José turned his eyes towards Isadore and thought he knew how close he had been to those whiskers...

He also remembered with a clarity he hadn't felt before a duck who was daffy and thought he could get rid of him like the pest he thought he was...

"Gracias, señor Speedy, ¡gracias!"

"¡Viva Speedy González!"

José shook his head and looked at Treg again.

"Listen, we are also looking for someone...Maybe you could come with us? We could come across the person you are looking for." He told him. For some reason, he knew he could trust this person.

"Yeah, okay." Treg replied. "Who are you trying to find?"

"You won't believe it." Isadore said.

"Let's start from the premise that you haven't always been human. Say you once had feathers." Sheldon intervened.

Treg raised an eyebrow.

"I-I don't think this is a good idea. He's going to believe we-we are mocking him." Joey turned to Kath as the others were trying to explain the situation to him.

"No, I think talking about it is what weakens it. I...I can't say it's true one hundred percent, but I feel I remember more as minutes pass." Kath replied. "Maybe we can help him find out what he is. Also, have you noticed?"

"What?"

"Ever since we visited Marvin's hut, the sky has been thundering..."

Joey raised his head to the sky and was surprised to find she was right. At that precise moment, a loud thunder echoed. Warner Falls had always been cloudy but never rainy, at least that was the way he remembered it to be...Could it mean that...?

"Ah. I know what you're talking about. Beans and Buddy, right. I saw them."

Joey lowered his head to look at Treg with surprise. "R-Really?"

"Yeah, just a while ago. I thought that was very weird." Still, Treg didn't seem surprised at all about the existence of talking cartoons and Joey wished he had been listening to know what they had said to convince him. "I saw them sneaking into the water tower."

"The water tower!" They exclaimed.

They wasted no time.

The water tower. The highest place in Warner Falls. From there, Buddy and Beans could see it all: the fuss in the streets, the change of behavior, even the different look in the sky.

"They're all returning to their primitive self!" Buddy exclaimed, hands on his head.

Impossible! But how? They got rid of Marvin the Martian! They destroyed all of his findings! How then...?!

"Shut up, Buddy! You know that talking about it doesn't help!" Beans replied, arms crossed and teeth clenched.

"We need to talk about this! Soon everything will be back to normal and then what? What, Beans?! They will be very, very mad at us! And for a good reason! We hurt people! We erased fellow toons! What will they do to us!" Buddy grabbed Beans by the shoulders and shook him with desperation.

"That's not going to happen!" Beans replied. "We just have to make sure..."

"It's over, Beans! Don't you realize? I-I can't keep doing this...! We've gone too far!"

"Too far? We did what we had to do! What the heck's the matter with you? This was your idea! And it worked! We're the only toons in the studio! We finally have the attention we deserve! Are you telling me you want to lose that?"

But Buddy was terrified, he could not think coldly anymore. "All we can do is try to fix things and hope they have mercy on us..."

Beans grunted flashing his teeth.

"I didn't risk everything to let you or anyone ruin it!"

Before Buddy could do anything, he found himself falling. He hit the ground and lied there, deep into a hole with his body's shape. Birds flew over his dizzy head. Beans slid down the stairs and walked to the boy, his hand swollen, four times its normal size, hard as a wall, ready to slam him again.

He would have done so if it wasn't for a noise approaching. He escaped in time before the group of seven people approached.

"There! There's one!" Sheldon stopped to exclaim, pointing at Buddy.

Buddy was still too disoriented to be able to run away, his body didn't respond his orders to escape. He could only get out of that hole, take a few wobbling steps then fall on his behind. The humans surrounded him. He had no escape. Defeated, he closed his eyes, waiting for whatever had to come...

"He g-g-got a good beating..." Joey muttered.

"Better for us! He's gonna sing like a bluebird..." Sheldon, backed by his partners, walked to Buddy, his fist clenched.

One could never trust a cartoon character. One only needed to watch a cartoon to know they always got a backup plan, a trick under the sleeve, wait until their bullies get overconfident to get back at them. But Joey felt such immense pity for that boy in black and white that, contradicting all common sense, he got ahead, before the others could lay their hands on him.

Sanity had proved to be useless in those circumstances, anyway...

"Don't!" José tried to stop him.

"Don't touch him! Are you crazy?!" Isadore exclaimed.

Joey didn't listen. He knelt in front of the dizzy cartoon and took him in his hands. He was so light...Buddy cringing at his touch made him believe this was not an act. He looked really terrified.

"A-Are you okay?"

Buddy started sobbing, trying to protect himself with his arms.

"No...You are going to end me...You will drop me into the Dip, lock me up in the water tower forever..."

"We w-won't. I promise I won't le-le-let anybody do that to you." Joey looked back at his partners with a serious face, and not even Sheldon dared to contradict him.

"You will...Because I was mean to all of you..."

"You did this, didn't you, Buddy?" Kath knelt down in front of him. "Why? You look like such a good boy..."

Buddy sighed pitifully.

"Yeah...That's right...I'm a good boy...And do you know what else I am? You know what people thought of me? I'll tell you...Schlesinger told me to the face...Boring. Flat. Uninteresting. A creature of limitless blandness! I can't help it, I was drawn that way...The audience didn't like me...I got no fanmail..., no one ever had a word to say about me, neither good nor bad, so the bosses fired me, replaced me...I wasn't lunatic enough...I...I had the most beautiful reason to exist: to make people laugh...to make them happy...help them forget their woes just for seven minutes...Seeing no one notices you, laughs at your jokes...Everyone forgetting you...Do you have any idea of how it hurts?"

Sheldon looked away, because he knew. Or at least he thought he did.

"I was supposed to be the next star of the studios after Bosko, the first of us, left." Buddy continued, standing up. He didn't dare to raise his head from his feet. "I failed, then the bosses created a series of characters to...try and see...which could get the audience's attention. Beans was one of them. They thought he was the toon they were looking for. They put a lot of faith on him and made him the star of some short movies. But it turned out the one people remembered was...the stuttering pig in the background..."

Joey knew.

He knew because that pig was him...

"The guys and I have been thinking about your success...Because you know you're famous, don't you?" Frank, Frank Tashlin, told him one day at the corridor. How could he forget his face? He even directed movies for the flesh and bone actors. "Well, that's the way it is, and you'll have to get used to it. Each of us has an idea for your cartoons, and you know what that implies. Changes of design, yes, but not only that. Anyway, we'll tell you about it in a moment. The thing is, we've been thinking...Since you're going to be very present in the Looney Tunes, we've thought you could be in charge of the closing."

He felt like he had just dived into freezing water.

"You guys, who came after me and Beans...people loved you...You didn't even need to try...Eighty years after your debut people still adore you, while no one even knows we were Looney Tunes...It wasn't fair. We were abandoned, forgotten, humiliated...I hated the newcomers, but Beans and I soon got together, because we had experienced the same, being given the star treatment then get thrown away like garbage, and thought...we thought..."

"We were friends and then..., suddenly..., I never saw Beans again..."

Joey closed his eyes when he clearly saw why.

"...All of these stars should know what it feels like..." Buddy's voice trembled as he finished the sentence.

"What did you do?" Pip asked.

"Remember Hazel the Witch?" Buddy replied.

Hazel...A name that brought a lady with green skin to their memory.

"Well, we sneaked into her house and stole one of her spell books...We found one that looked...interesting. It would turn ink into blood, give drawings a pulse. We used it on you...We joined our hands and uttered the spell. Then...Dense fog covered everything. It stole the color, and then ascended to the sky, covering the sunlight. Toon Town changed into Warner Falls. We became legends of the animation—and you, our viewers. We trapped you into a flesh prison. We gave you a common life, with worries, responsibilities, insecurities, so your mind was busy and didn't remember...We...destroyed any lunacy inside of you, until there was not a trace of what you used to be, until you yielded to the sad reality we created for you...I'm sorry, but I was so pleased...I thought it was justice...Now I wouldn't be the creature of limitless blandness..."

"But there was a trace indeed..." Kath said.

"It seems so. But it was just one. Maybe two or three, but in the end, there was just one. The Martian. He started making himself questions. He made you think. And we couldn't let him contaminate you, we had to..."

Isadore gulped loudly.

"It was his fault. Had he stayed quiet about it, we wouldn't have minded, but he had to tell you. He had to tell you and we did what we needed to do...But I'm not proud of it...I'm honest, really, I'm telling you the truth."

"A little late for that, don't you think?" José gave him a severe look.

"Yes...Yes, I know." Buddy nodded slowly.

"What made you change your mind?"

Buddy sniffed and ran a finger through his nose. "...I used to have a girlfriend. Cookie...My Cookie...This spell didn't pardon anyone who didn't cast it...I didn't mind about her when I did it, I wanted to be a star again so bad, but then I saw her, I saw her deep into the lie, and I realized she doesn't remember where she is, what she is...or me... I didn't want to go that far as to hurt her...But I was born to be a star and I wanted to be so!"

"If you really feel remorse, then you will help us. Where is your partner, Buddy? Where's Beans?" Kath asked him.

"I don't know...He wants to keep the control whatever it takes...He...is capable of doing everything and anything at all..."

Buddy turned his eyes at Joey. He didn't need to speak for him to understand that Beans was particularly dangerous to him.

"Bu-Buddy." He spoke in low voice after a long pause. "Marvin...He's still ali-alive but very badly...What will ha-happen if he doesn't make it? Will he...?"

Buddy looked at the ground again with great remorse. "...He's a human being made of flesh and bone...With all that entails..."

"Then there's no t-t-time to lose!" Joey bit his under lip. "Not only for him: for all of u-u-us! Someone could get se-seriously hurt! Someone could di-die for good! We have to end this!"

Ben's face appeared on Kath's mind and she started to wonder. How would he be doing in a place so full of mad people? Had he snapped out of it and become who he really was? And who was the real Ben?

Why thinking about him now? Maybe she had always worried about him, even if the feeling was not reciprocal...

Gee, she hoped no one had ran him over, or crushed him with an anvil...

"How can we end this curse?" Pip asked.

"...I wish I knew..." Buddy replied.

"Liar!" Sheldon shouted.

"It's true, I don't know! The book mentioned no counter spell...I can't look it up. It's gone. It dissolved, along with the rest of the witch's brick-a-brac when reality shifted. And we won't remember..."

"Maybe she does. She's a witch, isn't she? I bet she's immune or something." Isadore said.

"Where will we find this witch?" José asked.

"Guess they're not in the Yellow Pages." Treg shrugged.

Joey suddenly opened his eyes wide.

"In-In-Indeed they are!" He exclaimed. "Come, every gone, I know wh-wh-whe-wh-h-hw-ewew-whe-whe-whe-Just follow me!"

Chapter Text

"In-In-Indeed they are! Come, every gone, I know wh-wh-whe-wh-h-hw-ewew-whe-whe-whe-Just follow me!"

Pip was the last in the group. The others were so excited by everything going on that they left him behind without noticing. Isadore did, and took the chance to grab him, covering his mouth, and force him take a different direction.

Finally a rest. Luc really needed to stop for a while, get a shower and eat enough and without a hurry.

Just as he expected, everything going on had served to soften up Sylvia's attitude towards him and make her a purring kitty, always solicitous, ready to give him what he needed or could wish for. She made sure he had the rest he so needed. She closed the door of the bedroom and severely told her children not to make a noise. "Daddy's had a hard night," he heard her tell them.

Even though he should have felt grateful for it, and it did help him recover from that hell of a night, that didn't serve to change his mind about her.

It was always the same. After the arguments came the apologies—apologies which seemed like his responsibility, at least the vocal ones, because Sylvia was not the kind of a woman who would degrade herself to the point of asking for forgiveness. A kiss, a bit of love-making that night...

It always worked. For a while. Until the next argument, at least.

But not anymore.

Luc decided it was time to step out of the roller coaster.

He only took a one-hour nap, enough to clear his mind a little. Then, he started packing up his things.

"...What are you doing?"

Sylvia was there, at the door. She had her nightgown on, ready to go to bed after tucking the kids into bed. Luc made an effort not to be a coward and look at her to the face.

"...Sylvia...This is not working..."

"...What?"

"...We tried...We can't say we didn't try to fix this...Or at least I've got my conscience clear, knowing I did what I could...But we made a mistake. We are friends at the most. Nothing more. We are not made to be together."

Sylvia looked like he had just stabbed her in the chest. It hurt him as well...but he knew beforehand that there was no way to do this without everyone getting hurt.

"...You...are leaving me?..." She muttered.

"I am really sorry, Sylvia."

"What made you think...? Is it something I did? Something I said?"

"No."

"I just don't understand! We never...! And then you come and...! Do you really need to do this? Come on, stop acting silly. We will make it work. We will go to counseling! But Luc, the children..."

"I'll talk to them. Of course, I'll be for them, always, when they need me."

He closed the suitcase, trying not to look at the tears running down Sylvia's pretty face.

"I will go back to France. At least for some time. I'll be back to arrange everything." Luc said, finally turning around.

Sylvia at first said nothing. When he tried to make it through the door, she looked at him in the eyes. She practically stabbed him with a stare.

"...Is there someone else?"

Julie's image popped instantly into his mind.

Did it show on his face? Could Sylvia read minds? Or did she know something he ignored? For she started sobbing loudly.

"There's another one!" She exclaimed, like he had just mortally wounded her.

"There's no one, Sylvia. Please. Don't shout." Luc calmly replied.

"Sure there is! That explains everything! Who is she? Is she from work? One of those sexy cat thieves?!"

"I'm telling you there is no one else."

"...Papa?"

Too late. All that yelling had woken the children up. They shyly approached, in their pajamas, looking at them with worry, because all that commotion could mean nothing good. Max looked at the suitcase in Luc's hand and then looked at him in such a way his stomach sank.

"What's going on?" The oldest was afraid to ask.

"Tell them. Come on, tell them." Sylvia frowned at Luc.

Luc felt the great temptation of lying to them. To take everything back, unpack his things and apologize for this.

He used all of his willpower to go ahead with what he had started. Face the inevitable pain.

He crouched in front of his two children to place his hands on their shoulders. "Mes petits...Your mother and I..."

"Your father wants to leave us. He doesn't love us anymore." Sylvia interrupted with bitterness and so, so much sadness.

Oh, the faces of his children! Luc had never felt such a painful sensation.

"Why? Why don't you love us?" Max asked.

"You won't leave us, right, Papa?" Victor was starting to cry.

"Of course I love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me..." Luc tried to say.

"You just said everything we had was a mistake, including our children." Sylvia again made things difficult to him.

"I never said-"

"I'll be good and eat my greens, Papa, but please don't leave!" Bawling, Victor wrapped his arms around his neck.

Luc wanted to cry as well. He felt monstrous. Why couldn't Sylvia understand this wasn't easy for him either?

She just couldn't see...Love was supposed to make you fly, not sink you deeper into the ground...

"Papa, please don't go...!" Victor kept on crying. Max had started crying silently as well.

...He had to do this...He didn't want his boys to grow up thinking they had to yield to whatever chains they were shackled with...

Luc very softly pushed the little boy away from him and stood up.

When he did so, both children leaped on him and grabbed him with such strength he was genuinely amazed.

"Daddy, don't leave!"

"I can understand you abandon me for some bad woman, but can you really do this to your children?" Sylvia, of course, didn't stop delivering low blows.

The children were actually hurting him. The violence of it all scared Luc. He tried to get them off him but couldn't. He really couldn't.

"It was really a mistake marrying you!" Sylvia shouted, breaking down in tears. "I mistook you for someone decent! Go! Go with that bitch! Go destroy your boys' life!"

"Papa! Papa, please!" His children kept on pleading.

"You are not a father nor a husband! The cop...What an example!"

At that moment, in spite of everything going on Luc felt...that was not the first time he had had to hear an accusation like that...

...A terrible example for the children...

But who...?

It didn't matter, probably, but hearing that, many different feelings flooded in. None of them were good. And there was a prominent one: fear. Fear of what would happen afterwards, the consequences. The Dip.

What was the Dip? He couldn't tell. But that was the worst of the bad things coming into his mind. Just the name was enough to give him goosebumps.

There was this one thing he knew: the mentioning of that subconscious threat brought him an uneasiness he hadn't felt in a long time. And, with that, an unexpected lucidity.

"Papa!"

He looked down at his boys and thought...and thought...

He knew nothing of what was appropriate for children because he never had any!

He had been soft on them not to harm them, but now he used all of his strength to escape from their claws. He had no remorse now: he felt disgust towards them. He pushed them with no delicacy at all, as if they were criminals like those he used to face in the streets, on the battlefield.

"PAPAAAAAAAAA!"

And he didn't feel any kind of remorse when he punched Victor in the face.

He dissolved in a black ink mass which showered him.

Max and Sylvia let out a synchronized inhuman shriek, and not only Victor but they also burst into ink.

Panting on the floor, stained by that viscous black liquid, Luc let out a rosary of exclamations in his mother tongue. He had no idea of what just happened, but this was not right. Not in a million years he would have imagined he would see something of the sort. Wasn't he dreaming? No, it was all real. The children had marked his body with their little nails.

The thought of Julie was once again his fuel. He quickly got up and ran out of the house. Something weird was happening and he had to make sure she was alright.

Could she be one of those things? He didn't think so. They brought him bad feelings, while thinking of her comforted him. She was very real, and also what he felt for her.

Enough living in denial. There was nothing he wanted more than having her in his arms and call her his.

"Old fool!" He said to himself. "She will never love you back!"

He knew. He knew perfectly, and it hurt. But at least he would be sincere, for the first time in his life.

Wasn't that what love was about: jumping with no parachute?

In spite of what just happened, which still had him shaking, he smiled.

Julie had gotten out to get something for dinner and found the streets were...quite lively, to say the least. People running around calling someone, chasing each other, mesmerized by their reflection on every glass. Right in front of her house, a man and a woman ran out of the fruit shop with their arms full of carrots, which they charged into a Ford before escaping at high speed.

Julie opened the door to her apartment and dropped the keys on the hall table.

"Hello, honey! There are some weird guys outside you should probably get arrested."

But the real weirdness was awaiting her at home, for when she saw Wyatt didn't reply and went to see what was going on, she found her boyfriend standing by the window, with tears in his eyes.

"...Wyatt? Wyatt, what happened?" Julie dropped the grocery bag and ran to him.

"I did have a dog." He cried. "My mom says I didn't, but I know I did. It was a Great Dane. His name was Scooby. We used to go on adventures together along with our friend. Fred, Velma and Daphne. We solved mysteries in a Volkswagen van, the five of us, and it was great—and I've just remembered about it! How does someone forget someone they've known all of their lives? I did! And I feel terrible about it, because we used to be inseparable and now I don't know where any of them is now, how they're doing...!"

He was a nervous wreck. Julie had no idea of what to say to comfort him. The only thing she could do was give him a tissue to wipe his tears with.

"I gotta face the facts..." Wyatt continued, loudly blowing his nose. "I'm not a cop. I don't like arresting bad guys. I'm even scared to fine drivers. Criminals scare me...I...I was made for detective work. You know, finding clues, ask everyone around if they saw something, set traps..."

"Give yourself time. Maybe you're just going through a bad time..." Julie said to him.

"I've thought of it long enough. It's no use trying...It's only going to bring me pain. When one knows precisely what they want, everything else is just a waste of time."

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Luc's face to be the first thing she saw waking up in the mornings. She wanted to play with that white lock of his. She wanted to give him reasons to smile in that special way.

Wyatt looked at her with sadness.

"...I'm so sorry, Julie...You're the best girlfriend someone like me could have ever wished for...But I must find myself...I must find that gang I belong to...Perhaps if I find them, I will know for sure who I am and what I want...I am a jerk and you're in your right to hate me, but..."

Julie took his hands. "I understand...I completely understand..."

Wyatt smiled through the tears and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"SCOOBY DOO, WHERE ARE YOUU?!" He stormed out of the house shouting.

Julie wasn't sad. She probably had reasons to feel sad and angry but she had this tingling feeling inside.

Wyatt was right. Everyone's heart belonged somewhere, to someone.

She forgot about dinner and ran to look for Luc.

Madame Indigo rose her head from the crystal ball she was looking into and gazed at the group coming into her basement—as many candles and mandala tapestry she put, it was still a basement—without calling.

"I knew you would come." She smirked.

"Hazel!" Sheldon was the one to speak first.

"Ah, it is you, Mr. Mayor! And I see you brought your friends. I sense you came here for a séance, huh? Who do you want to...?"

Sheldon interrupted her, placing his hands on the table and looking at her eyes wide open. "Hazel. The. Witch. Never in a million years I would get close to you, but this time it is urgent, it is something that concerns you and you must help us for once."

"Oh, my, what a delightful young man you've brought me here. But what a dark aura! But it's alright, I can cleanse it and it'll be white as snow!"

"Please, M-M-M-Mrs. Witch, it is v-v-very important. The whole town depends on this. There is this cu-cu-cu-cu-curse...Surely you know by now...You used to be a wi-wi-witch." Joey said.

"And what do you think I am, my good gentleman?" Madame Indigo chuckled, though she seemed a bit offended.

"No, we mean a real one! With green skin and broomstick and all!" Sheldon said.

"Oh, my dear gentlemen, you are very, very tense. Come, sit down, all of you, and have a little tea..."

"Don't you remember your past life?" Kath asked, starting to feel desperate.

"Of course I do! I was an Egyptian priestess! Before that, I was the queen of Atlantis. Then I was burnt in Salem. It was always the same: the price to pay for having unlocked the secrets of the universe...Oh, well, you know what I'm talking about, right, sweetie?" Madame Indigo was still smiling stupidly, and she was already getting everything prepared for a tarot reading no one asked her for.

"¡Ay, ay, ay! This is useless! She'll have to see what we are talking about." José said, looking at someone who was hiding behind them.

It was Buddy's turn to step into the light and show himself to her. Madame Indigo went quiet and then smiled again.

"Well, well, I see we have a distinguished clientele tonight! You brought your own being from another circle of existence! I can summon my familiar, so they can play while I read your future." She said.

"Madame, my colleague and I stole your spell book and cast a spell, and I'm really sorry, but sure you must know how to bring everything back to its place...Can't you?" Buddy said to her, hopping on a chair to be able to look at her to the face.

"Ah, what a naughty spirit! Playing with forces he doesn't understand! Oh, but who hasn't done mischief once or twice in their lives? I used to have stretch marks until I took advantage of the healing powers of the forest, myself, teeheehee!" Madame Indigo winked.

Kath groaned and placed a hand on her face with desperation.

"This was a success..." Treg muttered ironically.

"You, young man, I must congratulate you!" Madame Indigo suddenly told him.

"...Why?"

"Because you are free from knots. You, sir," She pointed at Sheldon as well," I see you did your shadow work as well! Congratulations to you. Don't worry about your friend. He is almost free, but he is doing fine. Soon you will find him. Don't worry, those who were drawn together always find a way to reunite."

Treg's initial mistrust softened. "...You mean..."

"Who else?" Madame Indigo confirmed him with a smile.

"W-W-W-What's that, shadow work?" Joey asked.

"Well..." Madame Indigo leaned back on her seat and crossed her fingers on her stomach. "All of us have a side that we show everybody. The face, as it is commonly known. But there is also a part that stays hidden in the shadows of our being which we usually push and push and push until it is where it can't bother us. It is the ugly part, you see. Our miseries, our dark side. Opening that door you have so desperately tried to close can hurt, you find lots of things that you don't want to see—but there, you will find your true self."

"...Isn't that what's been happening to us?" José said, looking around him. "Looking into ourselves and finding...what we really are..."

"But I thought the spell erased all memories and everything that made a person unique..." Buddy said.

"Oh, spells can alter reality, twist the memories, make people forget...But memories are made of something special. They simply can't be erased. All one can do with them is hide them deep down, that's all. But all it takes is a hard search, and there they are!" Madame Indigo said.

"That means...you never killed the lunatics in us..." Kath said. "...We just need to reconnect with them..."

"There are mechanisms for hiding the shadow behind a wall of bricks, let's say, so you don't even remember there was one in the first place." Madame Indigo replied. "I don't recommend them. You can function in society but, inside, it leaves you dead inside. They are terrible, yes, but they are also very weak, because one only need to mention the elephant in the room..."

"...And the s-sp-sp-spe-spell will be broken!" Joey exclaimed.

Madame Indigo nodded.

"All we need to do is help people connect with the loon inside of them and that's all! We can do that!" José exclaimed.

"You still have a lot to do, but there is hope. You are going into the right direction."

Kath meditated in silence for a moment, then approached Madame Indigo.

"Madame...What you said to Roadie...That thing about the drawn together...Some bonds...Never die, right? Even if you've forgotten about that person and they forgot about you...The bond still exists...The souls call each other...Am I right?"

She didn't need to hear her response. She guessed Lola already knew and was telling her. Tweety and his mistress. Prey and predator. Creators and creations. When you were made for someone, you can't forget them...

"I think the lady here is waiting for you to declare yourself to her." Madame Indigo winked at Sheldon.

"Come on." Buddy looked at Kath. "Say his name."

"...Bugs?" Kath muttered.

Sheldon turned his head towards her. His heart skipped a beat. And after that, it started beating again, pumping boiling blood. He had been happy until he remembered that name.

Bugs Bunny.

Buddy nodded.

"Who is Bugs, Buddy? I don't know. I don't have any idea of who..."

Who made her feel the way she used to feel around Bugs?

Buddy stared at her, encouraging her to think.

Her head ached so bad, she furrowed her eyebrows in discomfort.

That small shrinking violet...That boy from middle school who did nothing but look at her and never dared to say a word...A boy she was dying to hear from...The person she had always expected to get brave and approach...Always close but distant...

She gasped in such a way she startled everyone. "Ben!"

"Mr. Sourpuss?" But then Sheldon raised his eyebrows, realization hitting him.

"B-Bugs who?" Joey asked.

"Bugs..." Treg frowned in thought. Until the answer came naturally, smoothly. The Bugs Bunny Road-Runner Movie, the Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Show...Of course! Good old Bugs.

"¡El conejo de la suerte! Bugs Bunny, sí!" José exclaimed.

"We forgot him...He meant so much for us and we all forgot about him!" Kath lamented, covering her mouth.

"He was dangerous. He was the mascot of the studios, the hero, the one who always saved the day." Buddy confessed. "I'm sorry, if we wanted our plan to succeed, we had to..."

The eyes, the front teeth, the hair color...How didn't she notice before?

"Come! We have to find him! There's no time to lose!" Kath grabbed Sheldon's arm and dragged him.

"Wa-Wait!" Joey begged them.

"That's a great shadow work you are doing, but...ahem." Madame Indigo kept on smiling.

Joey stopped to open his wallet and shower her in all dollar bills he found, before quickly following them.

Sheldon wouldn't have been so quick if it wasn't for Kath dragging him away.

"What am I talking to you for? All you have to do is munch on a carrot and people love you..."

Chapter Text

Warren's phone rang right when he was having a seat. Mayor Bailey! As if he didn't have enough pressure on his shoulders.

"I can't get a rest...It seems, I say, it seems I just can't get a little rest tonight!" He complained before picking up.

"I'm telling you! The frog! It sings! And dances!" Close to him, a man shouted, pointing at the amphibian in Officer Cassidy's hands. In spite of his pleas, the policemen remained firm and put him into the car, to keep him in a cell at the station for public disorder. Cassidy gazed at the frog in her hands. A green frog, nothing else. It didn't do anything special and its eyes were completely deprived from any kind of intelligence. She walked to the fountain of the park to free it in the water. Warren plugged his ear with a finger in order to hear better.

"Hm...Mhm...You sure?...Alrighty then, you're the boss here. Guess I can do that." He hanged up and looked at the officers around him, who listened with expectation. "Listen, I say, listen, boys! I got orders from the Mayor! Unless someone's in mortal danger, don't move a finger!"

"Huh?" The policemen and women exchanged a confused look.

"He's telling us not to do anything?" Officer Fitzroy asked.

"That's right." Warren nodded.

"Only life or death situations?" Officer Clawson asked.

"Only life or death."

"So all these picnic basket thieves, and gangsters and harassers...?" Officer Woodward asked.

"Just let them do!"

"Woohoohoo!" Officer Emerson had barely heard these words when he took them as a permission to get loose too and, stripping in the wink of an eye, he started hopping around in his underwear, waving his arms up in the air.

"Well, Warner is falling into madness at the speed of-" Warren stopped and let out a chuckle, playfully hitting the arm of the closest agent. "Warner! Falls! Warner Falls! It's a joke! You missed it! It went over your heads!"

He kept on snickering for a long time at his own joke. Only one thought distracted him from the hilarity: the feeling that he used to get inspiration to crack puns like this and even better in better times...

Brian didn't know about the order, and so started to sweat when the road forced him to drive past the sheriff. He tried not to seem suspicious but his face was shouting that he had a shotgun in the trunk. Warren turned his eyes at him and he felt his bladder was going to release all of its content. He almost stopped to confess his fault dropped on his knees in front of the authority when Warren told him with a gesture of his hand to keep going and he sighed in relief. Truth be told, the possibility to get caught was kind of thrilling. In the end, it encouraged him to do what he intended to do.

He had spent his working hours gathering up arguments on the internet to justify his latest whim: shooting something that was alive. He searched in the Bible, in Darwin's work, Malthus', Adam Smith's, Aristotle's, even Oprah Winfrey, and came to one conclusion: there were predators and prey in nature, human being was on top of the food chain and that meant all the rest of the creatures had to surrender to its supremacy by becoming its food, clothing, decoration, mascot and amusement. He hadn't also found any conclusive reports on the supposed capacity of non-human creatures to feel pain.

He drove into the forest, feeling as renewed and happy like he was coming home after a long day at work. At the entrance, he found a precarious sign on a plaque.

RABBIT SEASON OPEN.

He smirked. Rabbit season it is.

"Let me go! Bad putty tat, bad!" Pip tossed and turned, tried to break free from Isadore's arms like pincers, but it was useless.

"You and I have a pending talk..." Isadore grunted, dragging him to a remote spot, next to a vacant lot, where no one could hear his screams.

"Do you still want to eat me...?"

"Eat you? Blergh! No! You've got too much fat now. But I want to make one thing clear: you had your chance to have a mistress who treated you like a prince. You've always been protected by a loving Granny. It's my turn! I've had enough getting kicks and being hit with the broom! I want to be caressed and pampered too! I want someone who takes care of me! I want Granny for myself this time! I don't care if the spell is never broken! I don't want to be the clown who gets the blows, and the explosions, and the crashes and the kicks anymore!"

A roar interrupted him, and then the lamppost almost fell on him, it missed just by a couple of feet. Billy had finally found someone smaller and less dangerous than Father Stewart he could easily eat. His wound was still bleeding, and it made him very, very angry. He opened his mouth and shouted something incomprehensible, making the drool inside of his mouth splatter.

Isadore hadn't seen him in this half human half animal state before, like Pip did, but he too screamed when he made his appearance. Even if what Billy said had no sense, they had an idea of what he wanted.

What a sweet relief Ben felt when time to punch out came.

"Oh Beennyyyyy..." A singing voice called him from behind.

See all of Ben's happiness vanish when Larry showed up with his arms behind his back. After all these years, Ben had come to know Lawrence Keller well enough to read his body language. He was about to put the icing on the cake.

"Rosie congratulated me for the report the other day. Very clean and good-looking, she said. You really have a good hand with office apps."

Ben didn't reply to that praise, not because he was being modest, but because claiming he did would have opened the door to...

"I bet you can do great presentations."

There it was.

"Uh...I just get by..." Ben shrugged.

"Well, that's more than I know. If I give you the script, could you make me a nice-looking one?"

"...Well, maybe tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow?"

"It's time to go home."

"I know, but the presentation is for tomorrow morning."

"...And you're telling me now?"

"With the planning of my holidays next week, I completely forgot."

"I can't. I'm getting out so much later than I expected and..."

"Oh, please, Benny, you can't do this to me. Just this once. I'll return the favor. Come on, how long can it possibly take? Ten minutes? It's very, very short. It's just a backing for the oral exposition I got to make. Ten minutes, that's all. And I'd be sooo grateful..."

"But Larry..."

Since praising was getting nowhere, Larry changed his strategy. His moronic smile shifted into a frown, and his prominent Adam's apple went up and down, up and down...

"I thought you were a good guy. When you were new here I lend you a hand. But now I see you only care about yourself and can't do a favor for someone in need..." Anyone who would have heard him would have thought Ben was a criminal of the worst kind.

Ben closed his eyes and sighed. "Just...this once." He surrendered.

Larry got his smile back in a wink. "You got the paper by the keyboard. Welp, gotta go. I've got a reservation for Dante's Corner. Their rabbit stew is just...mmmhm! See ya!"

He left and Ben sat in front of Larry's computer and started working. According to his notes, the presentation needed charts and calculations he had to do himself. It was impossible that he could possibly finish this in ten minutes.

He was a sucker. He had always been. He couldn't help it. And all because of his terror to displease others. Perhaps it was his father's fault, for yelling at him for not holding the torchlight right while he fixed something. He couldn't take anyone yelling at him, and so learned to do everything himself so they didn't stop yelling in frustration. Or was it one more of the awful experiences in middle school? Probably a mix. He was the only one taking notes in class and let his classmates copy them so they didn't think he was a stuck-up jerk and isolated him. He even faced punishment for allowing them to cheat on exams. What for? In the end, they never chose him for the sports teams, for group projects, or talked to him, or even looked at him. It all lead to him doing a favor to Larry so Brian didn't kill his chances to promote for not being a team player.

He felt like a monster every time he said no. People smelt that and took advantage of it. He was fully aware. But what could he do about it? It was too late to change. Now he could only watch as the likes of Larry patted him on the head and took credit for the things he did while he compromised his own productivity, and all these Sheldons out there, with no merit but a lot of self-confidence and the skills that make parasites prosper, smiled at him and said: 'Hello, neighbor' with a condescending smile on their way to the house of the girl he always liked and never, ever had the guts to speak to...

Something snapped inside Ben. He stopped typing for a second, lost in the image of Sheldon and Kath kissing on the sofa and laughing at the guy who was too much of a coward to step forward and tell her what she meant to him. Then he typed faster, possessed by a sudden inspiration. He put a lot of hard work into the presentation and, two hours later, when the cleaners had left him alone with just a little light on, the project was finished, ready to be shown to the bosses from the central unit. He grabbed his backpack and left the office with a fine smile on his lips.

Too bad he was the lowest of the low in the organizational chart of the company and he was not to attend these meetings. He would have loved to see their faces when they clicked on the link to the corporation's new database. The website it directed to was so hardcore he felt he would have to wash his eyes with bleach.

Heh! Wasn't he a stinker?

Explosions. Women screaming as some man ran after them, men running away from women who wanted to kiss them. Cakes flying into people's faces. Bulls chasing everything and everyone wearing red. Car chases. Folks who couldn't repress their need to break into song for no reason. Luc found dozens, maybe hundreds of infractions on the way. But he never once though of calling an halt to any of them or using his authority. His mind only had room for one single thing.

Julie was quite more intimidated by the turn Warner Falls was taking. It was like some door had been open and all the madness had poured out, contaminating everyone. She was almost ran over and some guy shamelessly whistled at her like a wolf. She didn't feel safe and walked quickly, her heart pounding inside of her chest in alarm.

And then...

Him.

Her.

"Mademoiselle Julie!"

There he was. Julie's fear vanished. She ran to his encounter. As she approached, her nose perceived the nasty odor on him better. It was utterly disgusting. Anyone would have retched. She almost did. But she bit the bullet and continued approaching. Luc embraced her and she didn't complain.

"Are you alright, mademoiselle?"

"Yes."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I am."

Luc wanted to tell her what just happened to him, but he didn't know himself. Did it matter, anyway? No, all that mattered was that she was right there, in front of him, and none of those loons and ink impostors would get their hands on her. He placed a hand on her cheek. Very briefly, for this fear of rejection shook him. It made him quickly put it away. The relief was great when she took that hand and put it back on her cheek, closing her eyes to feel its soft touch.

They had been thinking of what they would tell the other when they met. Now that they were together, it seemed words didn't want to come out. It was okay. There are moments when words are not necessary.

They broke the little distance between their bodies. God, was the stench awful. But Julie placed both hands on Luc's chest. He used the hand on her cheek to attract her lips towards his, and when they were about to touch...

"...NOW WAIT A MINUTE!"

Luc had a tamer reaction but Julie bounced with a gasp when she saw Warren coming straight to them.

"W-Warren!" She exclaimed.

"I told you, Luc; I told you to be careful, not to go around breaking people's hearts, and you said you wouldn't listen to me, my words flew over your head, and still you...!"

"Wait, i-it's not what you think, Uncle Warren!" Julie babbled.

"And what is it? Huh? You think I'm stupid? Or blind? You must think I'm blind like a bat with cataracts! What a shame! I remind you, missy, that you got a boyfriend and that this gentleman here—I see, I say, I see he's no gentleman at all—is married with kids! How didn't I see it before?" Warren exclaimed, rubbing his face with one hand. "Of course, you were bored of your wife and you had this pretty, naive chick on hand and you—!"

"Warren, stop saying nonsense! I would never..." Luc defended himself.

"Wyatt and I are not together anymore, Warren!"

"And Sylvia and the children...You won't believe me, but—!"

"I don't want to hear whatever excuse you came up with! I have eyes! I saw what you were doing! You were about to kiss each other under the stars and the moonlight, that is, if we could see them! Here, in the middle of the street, with so many people around! I know it's a French thing and stuff, but I won't tolerate that kind of behavior in my town! I don't want your wife or Julie to suffer because you can't control your impulses!" Warren protested, pushing Luc with each word he uttered.

Luc closed his fist and it almost seemed as if he was about to punch him in the face, but he huffed and then tensed his body.

"...You are right! I love her! I love her so much! You don't understand. She makes me feel things I have never felt before, not even with my wife." Julie smiled lovingly at Luc's words. "But please, don't speak so loud, everyone's going to hear you!"

"This is my voice, boy, I can do nothing about it! And if you wanted to keep it a secret, you shouldn't have been doing these kinda things in the middle of—!"

"Come here, muley-headed mavericks, and fight like men!"

Well, someone was being loud and this time it was not Warren. A group of people was running away from something. That something was a miniature of a man. He came from Brown Lane and was now walking down Lovy Street, looking in every direction, even under the cars, kicking all trash cans he saw. He would have been a common intoxicated man if it wasn't for a detail Warren and Luc noticed when he approached: he was armed. And they knew he would use them.

"Sir! You, sir! Stop!"

Father Stewart stopped and Warren and Luc approached him. "Put your guns up, I say, drop the guns!"

The red-haired man snickered. He extended his arms at his sides and it almost looked as if he was about to obey. But he spun the pistols and before Warren could react there were two simultaneous shots, one single bang. Julie screamed.

"You missed!" Warren smirked.

Stewart fired again, seeing the sheriff pounce on him. He missed by a few inches, the bullets broke the window of a car.

"Ye red-haired big-!"

"AAAAAAAH, SHADDAAP!" Warren didn't let him finish the sentence and gave him such a big slap that the priest fell half unconscious to the ground. He didn't care about the rights of the prisoners, ethical codes or anything a good, sane sheriff was supposed to do. There was only one thing that needed to be done with vermin like this. It was pure, irrational, automatic revenge. And how good did it feel! Once the shooter was neutralized, he turned around.

That is how he saw Stewart had only missed one of his shots.

"Luc!" He shouted, running towards his fallen friend, who had a hand on his side, stained with blood.

"How could I be so blind?" Kath lamented herself as they ran back to their neighborhood. "He was right in front of me all of this time!"

"All of us have ch-ch-ch-changed a lot." Joey tried to comfort her.

"No, no! The outside changed, but the feelings were still there! Classmates! That thing I always felt for him! Nothing really changed! Only the surface! But I was too busy with my tiny world I never noticed we were still destined to be close to each other!"

Kath's reply made Treg stop. He let others run ahead and thought.

He didn't give a beep about the curse. He could let them handle this. He had to find his friend. Like in Pip and Isadore's case, no one noticed he was gone. Or perhaps they had started to remember he used to zoom away every time he pleased and didn't mind he left without an explanation. The urgency to find Ben and the thunders booming every instant were distracting enough.

José was also fast enough to get ahead. Since he didn't know where they needed to go, he had to wait for the others to lead the way, which bored him to the point of taking out his phone to entertain himself in the meantime.

"Well, look at this..." José said. "The phones stopped working. There's no signal, no Internet."

Sheldon checked his own phone from different spots. No, he had no coverage, and the screen was flickering.

"What can this mean?" José asked.

"I don't know...Perhaps...We are going in the right direction..." Buddy muttered. "At least, I hope so..."

Kath didn't mind about it. She darted towards the door as soon as she saw they had arrived and started slamming it with her fists.

"Ben! Ben, open up! It's me, Kath! Open up, please, I need to talk to you!"

No one answered. Joey peeped through the windows.

"I thi-think he's not at home." He said.

"He goes work from home, home from work, he hardly ever does something in between, why starting now?" Kath desperately exclaimed.

"So? What now?" José placed his hands on his hips.

"Wha-Wha-What would Speedy Gonzales d-d-d-d-do?" The question Joey posed surprised José.

The resourceful, quick, always ready to save the day Speedy Gonzales...

José closed his eyes and forgot he was standing in a street paved with concrete. And he pictured himself back at home. Not the Mexico his false memories had made him believe he was from, a grey place he was glad to escape from because of the misery and the threat of the cartels—no, the Mexico he once knew and loved, full of color, of good people, music and glee, full of danger too, but danger he could overcome, because he was small but he was...he was...

José opened his eyes and finally replied to Joey: "He would search this pinche town all times needed until he found Bugs and our amigos!"

"Good idea, but we're ru-running out of time." Joey said.

"It's okay. You're talking to the fastest mouse in all Mexico—and the whole world, I am sure!" A smile grew on José's face. A smile Joey had seen before. He hadn't lost it with the curse. It was an almost suicidal smile, of someone who knew he was about to do a very dangerous thing, odds were against him, but did it anyway, because it was the right thing to do and it was fun. It was a contagious smile which made everyone feel so much better and confident.

"I'm with him! Let's split! Each of us take a...!" Kath was starting to say, but she was suddenly interrupted.

A big cage with iron bars fell from the sky, trapping them all—all but Sheldon, who was left out by a split hair.

A cage Beans had thrown them.

"You are going nowhere!" He shouted.

"Oh no!" Buddy exclaimed.

"Da-Da-Da-Daffy, run!" Joey yelled.

"Go find Bugs, please!" Kath shouted.

"¡Ándele, pronto!" José shook the bars.

Sheldon needed no one to encourage him to run. Beans throwing projectiles at him was incentive enough. Although his mind was screwy, his body was still too weighty and tired to perform his old cabrioles, he could barely dodge them.

Beans grunted and turned around to face the group he had caught.

"I'll get him later. First, I'll make sure you don't bother me any longer."

His eyes fixed on Joey and he felt a cold shiver, which shook him to the core when he said: "Hello, Porky, ol' pal..."

Where was Martin? He seemed to have disappeared off the face of earth. He had followed the group hoping to find him in the meantime but that didn't happen. He couldn't have left the town, right? Only one bus connected Warner Falls with the outside world, and it came every two hours. But knowing how stubborn he was, he could have walked out of town...Or maybe he was still there?

He was still in there. He knew. His sixth sense told him.

Without realizing, he stepped on an X drawn on the pavement with white paint.

The tip of his shoes had barely touched it when a voice in his head, his instinct told him to halt and draw back.

He did so just in time to avoid a fridge crashing him.

Treg gazed at the broken appliance, then raised his head to see where it came from.

And there he found him, Martin, watching from a roof.

«He looked up, over his shoulder, and saw an apparition—a very allegory of Hunger! It was a man six feet high, gaunt, unshaven, hung with rags; with a haggard face and sunken cheeks, and eyes that pleaded piteously.»

Words written by Mark Twain, which decades later Chuck Jones would use to design his latest creation.

Treg and Martin gazed at each other. Although in Treg's face didn't seem to be any hint of fear, something inside of him shook when he saw Martin had more of animal than man.

Sheldon ran as fast as he could to escape from Beans. When he saw he wasn't chasing him anymore, he relaxed a little and went a little slower. And slower. And slower. He ended up walking like he had nothing better to do.

In fact, he had no hurry at all.

Finding Ben, making him remember who he was...What for? So he could steal the applause again? Humiliate him?

He had forgotten about it but now he remembered and he almost wished to be back to the blissful days when he didn't know about Bugs Bunny...

Being a human forever seemed like a good price to pay for seeing Bugs being a nobody...

A few drops stained his shoes. He looked down to see they were orange. Frowning, he raised his head to see if some wise guy was painting his house and didn't mind watching what he did. But there were no houses around. Those paint drops had fallen from...the sky?

Chapter Text

The nurse glanced at the patient while checking the water was warm enough. The half man. The bone and meat wreck. It hurt to look at him. He had really been trying to hold on to life, but now, now he could not retain consciousness, and when he was awake he had to endure an excruciating pain. He had fought well but he was losing. Being optimistic, he would not live past that night...; being very optimistic. She had heard doctor Yoshinaga consider giving him morphine so he was saved as much pain as possible, let him leave this world painlessly.

Yes, that seemed like an act of mercy...

"You!" Kath grunted, and wanted to grab him, but she couldn't reach Beans. By her side, José tried desperately to find a way out, slip though the bars, bend them, and it was all useless. Those painted bars were as hard or even harder than real iron.

"You are a dirty traitor, Buddy. I thought you had guts, but you're nothing but a coward." Beans confronted Buddy.

"Beans! Please!" Buddy begged him, but Beans just had to get his hand into the cage and zip his mouth so that a literal zip made Buddy shush.

"Well, much better for me. Once I'm through with you, I'll be the only one standing. I won't have to share screen with anybody else! As for you, Porky..."

"Beans..." Joey whined.

"Are you ever gonna stop tripping me up? Almost ninety years and you're still bothering me at any chance. I thought making you a person would change you, but I see you just love mortifying me."

"B-B-Beans, that's not true...I didn't..."

"I admit everything got out of hand. I should have known lunacy is like playing domino: all you need is one piece falling for it to drag the rest along. But I'm optimistic. That screwy rabbit is not going to be screwy, never more. And you, oh well, I still got time to make you wish you didn't nose around."

"What a-a-are you go-go-go-going to do, Beans? What e-else? Please, just give up...Just s-s-stop, Beans..." Joey begged him.

"Why stop now? I didn't go this far to stop here..." The cat replied, impassive.

And he ignored their insults and pleas so he could quickly place some iron bars in line on the pavement, so quickly he would have been a fine construction worker.

Pip and Isadore drew back slowly, not taking their eyes off Billy. That was supposedly meant for wild animals but it was worth a try with that rabid, savage man. He groaned and babbled incomprehensible things, showing his rotten teeth in a menacing way. He looked as if he was going to pounce on them at any second.

"W-What should we do?" Pip asked in a low voice, not daring to speak up.

"Nothing. Don't…move…" Isadore replied as quietly as his partner.

"My boys! Oh, here you are!"

Billy turned around with a roar and Mrs. Hart placed a hand on her chest.

"Granny!" Pip exclaimed.

"No! Run!" Isadore yelled, shaking his hands at her.

"Luc! Oh, God, Luc!" Julie gasped, kneeling by Luc's side.

"Did you call emergencies?" Warren asked Officer Riley.

"No! Phones aren't working and I don't know why! Something's going on with the radio too!" She replied, hitting it because it was the only thing she could come up with to make it work.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Everybody calm down!" Everything will be okay..." Warren paused for a moment to run a hand through his hair. He took a look at Luc's wounds to see how bad it was. It seemed the shot had hit a rib. One could have said it was a relief. But movies got it wrong: even if the bullet hadn't hit an organ, a fragment of bone could have been stuck in his lungs, and cause an internal bleeding. He was already seeing that Luc had trouble breathing. He had to go see a doctor immediately.

"Take care of all these people, Riley, please!" He then instructed his partner, given how many witnesses they had, recording with their cameras, yelling and chattering excitedly about it, practically glued to them. "Luc, do you hear me?"

"Oui..." He replied with a grimace of pain.

"Good. Keep losing blood, not hearing. Just for a second, at least. Everything will be alright, my friend. If we can't call emergencies, we will take you to the hospital ourselves. Julie, help me."

Julie did all she could to help Warren get Luc up from the ground and get him into his car. Silent tears ran down her cheeks.

"Breath. In and now out, that's right." It wasn't clear whether Warren was talking to Luc or to Julie.

"I'm sorry I—" Luc muttered to Warren.

"Save your breath. None of that matters right now." He replied.

Luc was lied down on the rear sits and Julie sat by his side to assist him while Warren drove. Twenty minutes to the nearest city, with no hospitals, but a medical center in which Luc would be given the most urgent care. Everything would be alright soon. He only had to resist twenty minutes. Everything would be alright soon. Julie repeated that to herself a million times, all times needed until actually believed it.

"Oh, come on!" Warren exclaimed suddenly. He turned the key again and again, stepped on the gas pedal as if he wanted his foot to go right through it, but it was all for naught. The car didn't move one little bit.

The guy with pop eyes and big teeth by his side looked like he was going to abduct him to experiment with his brain. But Sheldon kept on eating his hot dog calmly, while reading the newspaper. The Chicago Bulls had lost the last match—blast!

He was sorry for Marvin, he knew he was running out of time but his imminent death wasn't his fault. It was Buddy's. He was the one who slipped the dynamite bar at his feet, not him. It was his idea to turn them into creatures that could die from those things, not his.

He was not a bad guy, he said to himself. He was one more victim of all of this plot.

Bugs Bunny was gone and he had no intention of looking for him.

"Hi, Sheldon."

His surprise was great when he rose his head from the newspaper and found that Ben himself had come to his encounter.

There was no apparent change in him, but there was something different. Sheldon could feel it but couldn't pinpoint what.

"Do you have a moment?" Ben asked.

"Uh..."

"There's something I need to tell you."

Ben interrupting his millimetrically-calculated routine to socialize? Strange. Suspicious. Sheldon didn't reply. He was about to when a guy with a potato nose passed by then riding a tank, laughing like a child on a merry-go-round.

"Let's take a walk. There's a lot of noise around here." Ben said.

"Well...Whatever you say..." Sheldon could only reply. He finished his hot dog with a couple of munches.

Unsettling how Ben placed a hand on his shoulder in order to guide him out of Meléndez Street, then out of the neighborhood and finally, before he knew, out of Warner Falls, towards the woods.

"Uh...What do you want to tell me about? And why can't you tell me in town?" Sheldon was starting to get really nervous.

"You will see." Ben simply said.

They kept on walking in that dark forest, avoiding fallen trees, pointy rocks and roots. They walked for fifteen minutes or so, until Ben halted in front of an oak tree.

"I used to come here after school. I had no friends to mingle with, so...I came here and spent the time drawing, thinking..."

"...Uhm...Are you alright, Ben?" Sheldon couldn't resist asking.

"Yes. Actually...Yes." Ben replied, stepping forward. "And I'll be so much better after I do this."

He walked towards the roots of that big tree and hunched to dig something from a little space among them. He extracted something he carried in his hands back to Sheldon: a tin lunch box.

"I am leaving Warner Falls." Ben announced then.

Leaving? Sheldon frowned.

Leaving! A gleeful voice inside him repeated. 

"Oh, yeah, you'd do great leaving this place! I'm hitting the road too! Did you see the mess this has become! Bailey's the worst thing that's ever happened to this town: he's elected and the gates of hell open! Yeah, you're doing well. In fact, forget about packing your things! I've heard shots and explosions! Here!" Sheldon opened his wallet and gave him all bills he could find. "It's all I've got. You should have enough for the bus! It's been nice knowing you, don't forget to write! Careful not to take the wrong turn at Albuquerque! Bye!"

He already knew what he would tell the others: «Oh, what a shame, Ben's nowhere to be found! I looked for him everywhere, but he left no address, no trace at all! Now he will never know the truth and all of us will be stuck like this for the rest of our lives! Oh, oh, how simply dreadful!»

Ben didn't move and barely reacted.

"You are right. I got nothing here I'll be sad to leave behind. I just had this, and I'm leaving it to you." He replied.

"What is it?" Sheldon asked.

Now, hold on...A part of him was cautious. He had watched a lot of noir movies. He could not show him a pistol and shoot him, or...or...he didn't know, but he definitely didn't like this situation.

But it wasn't a weapon, nor a carrot for him to munch. It was a photo. A photo he had preserved with a plastic cover. It showed a group of prepubescent kids carrying backpacks, possibly in some kind of school trip—but the focus was on a pretty blonde with her hair in two braids who was looking at something out of the picture. Sheldon immediately recognized a twelve year-old Kath.

"I liked her, you know?" Ben said, apparently indifferent. "Ever since middle school. But I never had the guts to tell her. So you came, and you...you lived my dream. I don't mean to hold it against you. It was my fault. There's no one I can blame but me. I just wanted to tell you...Ask you...To take care of her. She's an amazing gal and I hope you realize how lucky you are. And I wanted to say...Thank you, Sheldon."

"...Thank you for what?..."

"...I know I've never told you, because...well, uh, I'm not very good with words, but...You hit my head with a mallet and helped me wake up...Realize how much of an idiot I've been all of my life...I don't expect you to understand. I just...felt I had to tell you...Do what you want with that information."

He had taken a decision, but still had a moment to be sincere with Sheldon before he left. He deserved a little bit of his time, since he was the one of the few who actually noticed him, just to say hello.

"...Thank you." He repeated, looking at him to the eyes.

Sheldon didn't respond to it, he was that confused. And when Ben went silent and started walking back to Warner Falls, he felt something very unpleasant inside of him.

Remorse?

Bugs never thanked him for anything. Would have he done so if they...? No, impossible. He was a jerk. He used to go around as if he owned the place. He was the best and he knew it. He enjoyed stealing his glory and making him the butt of the joke...After all he had done for him...

"Hi, hi! A new doodle, huh? Nice to meet you! They call me Daffy! What's your name?"

"Me? Well, Hardaway hasn't given me a name yet. They just call me Bugs' bunny."

"Hey, you should keep it! Bugs Bunny. Sounds good! Well, Bugs, welcome to Warner Bros. I saw how you made Porky mad. It was hilarious!"

"Did you like it?"

"I loved it! You know what makes him mad? I know tons of ways of making him really mad! I'll show you!"

"Gee, thanks! You're a pal."

"Anything for the laughs!"

It wasn't always like that. He once was the oldest of the two: he had been drawn one year before Bugs. In that year of life, he had acquired tons of knowledge he was willing to share with another cuckoo. He had tricks to teach him face hunters. At time he was not competition. They were two complete goofballs with an astounding talent to bring chaos to the studio. They were two of a kind, cut from the same cloth.

Sheldon frowned. That was before the writers and directors fed his ego, Tex being the first to notice that Bugs wasn't a fool but pretended to be and Chuck and Friz, the ones who encouraged him to show it! And Bugs dropped the mask and showed indeed how much of an opportunist was! How quick he forgot everything he had taught him, the sympathy he had shown him to become an scheming dirty dog! He started acting like he was miles ahead from everybody! He left the slapstick and the utter madness to him while he acted like the witty, the smart one, the boss, the white clown...!

...Did he remember the old times nevertheless, as Ben?

Could it be possible...that the one who just thanked him...was Bugs after all?

Sheldon shook his head. No! Bugs Bunny always got away with everything, but not this time! Not this time!

Still...

It would be nice. Rubbing into his face that this time it was him the one who saved the day...

Yes. He could be the hero of this story! Tex would be proud of him!

"Ben, wait!"

Sheldon ran to Ben before he lost him. When he reached him, he placed his hands on his shoulders.

"I've got the feeling that something big's happened to you, but wait: there's more..."

Martin. Homo starvins.

Treg. Corredorus vulgaris.

Martin hadn't put shoes on before running away, but he didn't seem to mind. He looked rougher now, not the intellectual kind but more savage, used to the stone under his feet, the free air, the wilderness. A man capable of building whatever artifact he needed yet driven by pure instinct.

Treg gazed at him completely calm.

"Ah, here you are. Busy with your usual business, I see." His voice didn't shake either.

"It seems like you were expecting this. As usual." Martin's voice hadn't lost that sophisticated accent, but something in its tone had changed, making it like he was growling.

"I know you well, and I know you don't waste a chance to show how smart you are."

"You don't know me."

"Of course I do. We've been together for a long, long time."

"I am sorry to tell you but you have been fooled." Martin replied. "To be fair, so have I. You never left your home to follow that powerful wanderlust you were feeling and escape your oppressive home. I am not a nomad with tons of degrees and only a van to my name. We are the same age; only a few minutes apart. We never crossed paths on a road, and we were never, ever friends."

"See? Acting like you're the only guy around with a brain. I know all of that, all right. I know everything. I know you are Wile E. Coyote and not Martin, and I know I don't even have a legit name apart from Road Runner. I know there are many things I remember with much detail that are not true at all. But there's one thing that wasn't a lie: you are my friend."

Martin drew a smile, and Treg noticed how sharp his teeth were. Had they always been that way and he didn't notice? That would explain why no girl ever wanted to kiss him.

"Friend? Friend..." Martin repeated with despise. "I am a predator and you are my prey. I don't see the friendship there."

"You are my friend." Treg insisted. "I don't keep one single memory, false or true, that doesn't include you. The first thing I saw after Chuckie first drew me was you, drooling and licking your lips. It was always the two of us alone, in that big, empty place, no dialogue, doing things our way. The background and our designs have changed but everything else is the same."

Martin kept smiling mockingly for a moment. Seeing how Treg's expression didn't change, seeing that he was talking seriously, the smile started to fade.

The nurse washed Cian's chest with much care and delicacy, while humming a song. «The Merry-go-round broke down...The Merry-go-round broke down..»

A series of beeps the vital signs monitor started to emit interrupted her melody brusquely.

"Doctor! DOCTOR!" She ran out of the room.

Nothing. Not a soul. Not even a rabbit. Brian was so frustrated. He was supposed to find rabbits, tons of them. It was rabbit season because there were rabbits around, right? But he hadn't found anything, even other kinds of animals, and he was getting really frustrated.

He wanted to shoot. Like back to his childhood, he threw a tantrum. He wanted to shoot. He wanted to shoot at something. He wanted to bring home a hunting trophy. He wouldn't go home until he knew what it was like, claiming something's life!

Then he heard voices echoing.

He walked into the direction of the source, careful not to make a sound.

Beans was finished...Finished doing what? The thing is, the next step was taking them somewhere. He opened the door to the cage. As soon as he did it, José pounced on him. He didn't seem to remember that Beans was a toon and he had access to everything in any moment. He only needed to search his pockets to find a gigantic mallet with which he hit his head. José fell flat on the floor letting out an 'oof!'. He then tried to stand up, very shakily so, and Beans neutralized him with a blow on his ribs. Hearing and seeing José's displays of pain, it seemed evident that the times when these kind of accidents could be easily shaken off were long gone. Once José was unable to move, Beans approached him. What happened then was so fast they only realized seconds later that he had tied him up with so much cord and so tightly that he seemed to be trapped inside a cocoon.

Kath tried to defend herself, but toons were so much faster than human beings. She ended up just like José, tied up with a rope he had grabbed out of nowhere. Buddy was no match for him either.

"Beans..." Joey pleaded.

For some reason, he was spared. Beans just lifted his three prisoners with one hand and left them in a perpendicular position to those bars he had placed on the ground before.

"Beans, pl-pl-pl-please, listen to me!"

"I don't wanna." Beans replied without looking at him.

"A-A-A-All of this is be-beb-because you think I ruined your ca-ca-career? Is it?!"

"No, it's not just my impression. You did."

José didn't surrender. Even if the pain and the blows had numbed him quite a lot, he writhed, trying to break free.

"Th-That's not true...Had you tal-ta-talked to me instead of j-j-j-just l-l-l-leaving, you would have k-k-known I didn't want to hurt you..."

"Who could have talked to you?" Beans finally turned around to look at him with anger. "The celebrity! You were always busy with some new cartoon, a new rehearsal, a new meeting. You completely forgot about your friends and made new, cooler ones, like Schlesinger! It's you who abandoned me!"

"You're wrong! I still l-l-loved you! I didn't want to l-l-l-leave you behind. I wanted you to b-be there with me."

"How pretty! Phooey! Take your lies somewhere else, brother, I'm not buying them!"

"I am not l-l-lying...It all took me by s-surprise..."

"Did it, really? I don't believe you. You had it all planned from the very beginning. You wanted to be the next Bosko and by God, you were willing to do anything to get the attention. The bosses chose me! Me! If you were really my friend, you would have simply stepped aside!"

"It's not my fault that the audi-audi-audience preferred me!" Joey exclaimed. "I really did no-nothing. I never t-thought I was that funny! Of course y-you were my friend! You, Oliver, Ham, Ex, Kitty, a-all of you were my friends. I wouldn't have do-done something like that. I know you're hu-hurt..."

"What do you know?!"

"Da-Daffy and Bugs ecli-ecli-eclipsed me too! I helped introduce them an-and they-they made me the sidekick! A background cha-character! A cameo, sometimes! They stole my atte-attention too! It's comple-completely natural! No one's at the to-to-top forever!"

"Bah! After so many years people still remember you, love you, you've got merchandise, the directors want you to appear on movies!" Beans replied. "I got nothing at all! No one knows me nowadays! I am less than a one-shot character!"

He was getting nervous. But the good thing was that he was so furious at Joey that his full attention was on him. José felt a vibration approaching, he didn't know what it was but it couldn't be anything good, so he thought he had no time to lose, and carefully rolled towards Kath and Buddy, with the intention of helping them out by cutting their rope with his teeth if needed.

"Cursing the entire Too-Toon Town's not gonna solve it!" Joey kept saying.

"It did! In this timeline I am the most famous cartoon of history, and if I have to get you or anybody else out of the way, I will!"

It was at that moment when Beans suddenly turned around and hit José in the chest with the mallet so hard Kath let out a scream, thinking he had killed him this time.

"Do you think you can fool me, little rat? You are nothing now! Do you hear me? None of you! You will be sad, little bone bags for the rest of your existence and I will keep on living! I will be famous! None of you can stop me! I am a toon, you're not!"

"Do you know what you are?! A little dirtbag, that's it!" Kath exclaimed.

"Shut up, doll, I'm not talking to you!" Beans replied.

"DOLL?!" A new strength took over Kath's body. It was very difficult to her to move, but she got to put her muscles to work and get up. With tiny but firm steps, she ran towards Beans to kick him in the butt. Stars flew from the hit and Beans let out a yell of protest.

"No mangy cat's calling me doll!"

"Why you-!" Beans started to protest, rubbing his aching behind and only needing a little push to send Kath back to the ground, when a whistle echoed in the street and a smile formed on his lips. "Too bad you're not gonna stay for too long, Miss Bunny: you've got a train to catch!"

Kath didn't know what he was talking about until she turned towards the source of the noise and realized.

Those were railroad tracks.

What they had heard was the whistle of a train.

Oh, hell. That little psychopath was going to use the old trope against them.

Sheldon felt his mouth dry from talking too much. He had to stop for a second and see if all those words had had any effect on Ben.

It seemed they did. Ben had his gaze lost somewhere behind him, on the bushes behind them.

"Are you telling me that we were both animals in a past life? Not only that...animated hand-drawn animals?"

"The term is 'toon'."

"And we've been cursed to become human."

"To put it simply, yes."

"And I must remember this past life in order to lift the curse?"

"You got it perfectly. So...what do you say?"

Ben didn't need to say a thing. The way he looked at him before turning around to leave was eloquent enough. Sheldon stopped him.

"I'm not lying to you! All I've told you is the gospel truth!"

"Yeah! You think I'm stupid? You think it's fun to mock me like that? Well, I'm getting tired, you know? Of this town, of you, and everyone! I'm glad I'm leaving. You know what? Keep your money. I want nothing from you."

"Bugs, please, listen, I'm telling you the truth! I know it sounds incredible, but I swear I didn't make it up! Ask Lola!"

"Ah, Kath, yeah. Say goodbye to her from me. I hope you're happy together..."

"Oh, come on! Do you really think we...? I mean, I do have a lot of sex appeal, but ducks and rabbits don't really—I mean, she was made for you, she loves you and she's very worried about you! Have you forgotten about Lola? You couldn't have!"

He could never forget Kath...Lola, he said? Was that some kind of game of theirs, like, playing strangers, creating alter egos?

Lola...

He was afraid of no big guys, bulls, hunters...But females had always been his weak spot...The first time he saw her was like all of his wit flew out of the window...He behaved like a maroon...

Ben closed his eyes firmly. No, it couldn't be. I mean, he did feel like an idiot the first time he met Kath, because she was gorgeous and he didn't know what to say, but they never met at a gym...

A basketball match...With those big guys, they had to be wise if they didn't want to end up crushed. He did everything he could to avoid it. Even with his considerable survival skills and instincts he had it hard. But when she was in danger, his integrity suddenly didn't mean a thing. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't pleasant. But it was worth it.

...No! What the...?!

"You're remembering, are you?" Sheldon insisted. "It's difficult, I know. It hurts. It's exhausting. But you have to try."

"Stop! You're putting all that nonsense in my head!"

"I'm not! Come on, Bugs, buddy. You can do it. You have to do it, for all of us. Think of Lola. All the people you've come across. Hazel the Witch, Gossamer, Elmer, Yosemite Sam, Marvin the Martian, me! I've tried to have you shot so many times!"

Why would Sheldon want to...?

Because of them were game animals, of course, and none of them wanted to be the kill.

You're despicable!

Take a peek out and see if he's still around...

No! That never happened! It couldn't have happened! It was ridiculous!

"Stop fighting it, you jerk! Listen to me!" Sheldon really wanted to slap him. "Bugs, I know it's hard to believe, but you have to try, you have to dig inside of–"

"I'm digging nowhere and stop calling me Bugs! My name is Benjamin!"

"No, it's not!"

They were in such a heated argument they didn't see the figure standing a few yards away from them. A figure which watched them for a good while.

Brian recognized one of the men standing there. He was Ben, that clerk. He didn't know who the other was.

But something inside him had a much greater reaction, beyond his understanding.

He had come there to find something to shoot and he had found it.

No Jiminy Cricket told him not to shoot at people. Taking into account all the arguments he had absorbed, it could be safe to say that men were animals after all.

He prepared his shotgun, his finger caressed the trigger.

"I'm telling you your name is Bugs Bunny, and I'm telling you it's...!"

Rabbit season.

A shot. The pellets grazed Ben's shoulder, making him let out an exclamation.

Sheldon muttered something. He remembered this.

"Oh-Oh...Just my luck!" He grabbed Ben by the wrist and dragged him aeay.

A few drops fell from the sky, dying Ben's hair grey.

A new shot. This time, Sheldon was almost left without his left foot.

"Mr. Benson?!" Ben exclaimed, recognizing in the dark the features of someone he knew.

His boss didn't seem to hear anything. He just shot again.

"That's Elmer! Elmer! Remember? Remember the gun that goes 'pew'?" Sheldon made him shelter behind a tree.

Why wasn't the car moving? What was Warren jabbering?

"W-What's wrong?" Julie asked.

"It's not working!" Warren replied.

"Are you kidding?!"

"It's not the gasoline, because it was full this morning, it must be the engine or…or…" Warren quickly got out of the car to open the hood.

"I picked the wrong day to get shot." Luc chuckled with a weak voice.

"It'll be okay, don't worry, Luc." Julie caressed his dark hair with the hand which wasn't pressing the wound. "How do you feel?"

"It's got to be the battery." They heard Warren say, followed by a whole sentence and what sounded like a curse.

"We will hitchhike, or take you by foot if it's necessary." Julie assured Luc, placing her hand on his cheek to make him look at her to the face.

But Luc knew, and Julie had to face the facts too: he could barely breathe, he seemed his lungs were chocking on their own blood...He was probably dying and there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. They wouldn't get help on time. It was such an awful truth Julie started sobbing.

"Pigeon, don't cry...I don't want to leave this world seeing you cry...Give me your smile...Please..."

He placed his hand on her face and made her look at him. Julie couldn't stop crying, even if she tried to give him his last wish. But her eyes filled with tears had a certain beauty, too...

Maybe it was his brain starting to fail, but he was sure he had seen those eyes long before. Long, long before...

Julie felt the exact same thing. That made her sobbing cease for a second, when she came to realize...She had smelt that terrible stench somewhere else...

The train was coming! They could see a light in the dark getting closer and closer. Buddy struggled to get out and couldn't. Kath used all of her strength but felt it was useless. José didn't move or open his eyes—they feared Beans had hit him too hard and killed him.

"No...Beans, please, don't..." A few tears ran down Joey's cheeks.

"You wrecked my world, now I'm wrecking yours. Sit down and enjoy the show." Beans said with sadistic pleasure.

"We're losing him!" One of the doctors exclaimed, as he injected Cian adrenaline to try to make his heart beat again. His partners were giving it a massage. (One of them was holding a carpenter's saw and another, an eggplant.) It all seemed useless. His time had come and there was nothing to do.

They could hear Brian's boots crushing the dry leaves on the ground, approaching. He wasn't in a hurry. He had them cornered after all.

"Please, Bugs...We have done this a million times...Do what you always did..." Sheldon begged Ben in very low voice.

What he always did? He had never found himself in a situation like this...

"This time, we will not just brush it off...If he shoots, it'll be the end, got it? So this time I really don't want to take the shot and, as surprising as it may sound to you, I don't want you to take it either..."

But the name Elmer was so familiar...And finding himself in that predicament along with Sheldon, as well...

"You always had an ace up your sleeve. No one could fool you. You fooled everyone. You fooled me. Me! The one who taught you everything! Please, we need that Bugs back. Please, please!"

What did he want him to do? They were unarmed and Brian was only seeing red. There was nothing to do here.

Brian charged his shotgun and stopped right in front of the tree.

"Don't make me waste my time. Come on, get out of there, you two."

Ben closed his eyes.

It seemed he couldn't just get a bit of relaxation without somebody ruining the day for him...

Sheldon gasped when he willingly walked out of his hideout and stood face to face with Brian. He pressed the tip of his gun against his chest.

Then, before he realized, Ben placed both hands on his cheeks and attracted him into a big, loud smooch which resounded all around.

Brian gazed at Ben with eyes wide open. A grin flashed on Ben's face and he quickly grabbed Sheldon's wrist to run off.

Sheldon needed a second to process what just happened before he smiled his widest.

"Bugs!"

"The wabbit!" Brian exclaimed.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and aimed at the fleeing pair.

And then a deafening boom. The biggest thunder any of them had ever heard, so loud the three of them stopped, and the ground and the trees trembled.

They turned their eyes to the sky. Finally, after an eternity, it started to rain.

A boom. A boom so loud it wiped the smile off Beans' face and woke José up.

And then, rain falling. Thick, big—colorful?

It was...

"Gasp! No...NOOO!" Beans shouted.

They didn't hear the train any more. It started to rain so hard they couldn't see beyond their noses. They could only hear Beans groan and Buddy let out a loud sigh of relief.

Now that Billy had chosen a victim, he got closer, roared again and then, only then, Pip and Isadore realized that Granny was carrying something in her hand. When the madman got too close, she used the umbrella she was carrying to shelter herself from the rain to hit him right in the head. She was an old lady, but she was not that frail or weak—that seemed to hurt a lot. Billy, after that moment of pain, was angry and wanted to attack, only to receive another, harder blow.

"Don't you dare touch my boys!" From then on, Mrs. Hart only had to threaten Billy with the umbrella to make him whine and shrink.

"Oh, Granny!" Pip exclaimed and ran to embrace her.

"What are you doing here? I was worried sick! With all the things going on in the streets! This is no place to be, my loves!"

Pip looked at her into the eyes, and Mrs. Hart seemed to lose her breath for a second.

"Granny...Do you remember?" Pip whispered.

"Those eyes...Those pretty eyes...I know them, of course I do...These are the eyes of my little birdie! The little birdie who used to make my days so, so bright!" Mrs. Hart sighed.

Pip smiled and buried his face on her chest.

"My Granny...!"

"You're shaking, my love! Don't be scared! I am here! I am here and we will never be apart, and I will let no one hurt you! You have changed much, but you are so handsome, you know?, and I still love you with all my heart..."

Pip felt so happy hearing this. He glanced at Isadore and a shadow was cast over the happiness a little. He saw he was expecting the good life he had lived to end here and, in spite of all he had done to him, Pip felt pity. He only wanted Granny to be his for a change...An owner who worried about him...

But then Mrs. Hart looked at him as well and let out an 'oh!'.

"Oh, goodness! Is that blood? What happened to you? Did this savage hurt you? We're going to the police right now!" Mrs. Hart placed both hands on Isadore's face, touched the nose delicately and looked at the dry blood on his clothes with horror. Her horror was genuine.

"…Granny, I…" Isadore started to say.

It was then when they heard the big thunder which made them flinch and it started to rain over them.

But it was not water!

First, a blue drop, then a purple one, dense as paint. Pip looked up and a drop fell on his hair, making his blond seem way more intense, garish yellow even.

Mrs. Hart tried to use the umbrella but it was too damaged after using it against Ol' Billy to be opened, so she grabbed Pip with one arm and Isadore with the other to shield them, while Billy opened his mouth to swallow the raindrops which fell.

Martin clenched his teeth. "I have one aim in life, just one, and that is eating you! We are not friends. It's ridiculous."

In spite of the situation, Treg managed to smirk in a slightly mischievous way.

"You know you can't. It's cartoon rules."

"But were are not in a cartoon anymore, I remind you. And I am making the most out of it."

"It's so much funnier when you fail. You know what I think? We should let the other guys do what they want with this. If they want to keep things this way, fine for me. As long as I got legs to run, I don't mind about my looks or others knowing and loving me. Come on, let's go back to the van and get out of here, to the desert, to the road—home. I guess we were longing for our home all of this time. I know you do as well. You don't like noisy places and folks, being forced to speak up. You want to go back to our place as much as I do. We will play chase, like in the old times. Or we can stay like this and do whatever comes to mind. But Wile E., you and I together. Anywhere. We were created a duo. This lame curse couldn't do us part. We are two parts of the same thing, we just don't make sense on our own. It's just not fun at all when it's one of us alone. So...What do you say?"

Treg never gave up on him...

Martin shook his head. Tregoweth Sadowski was just a fabrication. Someone, something had made him believe his pray was a friend, clouded his instincts with the illusion of a civilized life and memories of two lonely guys whose paths crossed. He was nothing to him. Nothing! Just a meal!

But they did have so much fun...

He was still there. It seemed it was true and he was not going to escape this time. It was a chance he had to seize.

Martin got closer, his stomach protesting, demanding him to bite once again. They both rose their heads when the thunder caught them by surprise. They saw the ink dissolving the sidewalk under their feet, the buildings and everything around them. Martin turned his eyes back at Treg. He had to do it quick. He just needed to extend his arms and grab that neck, his prey was that close...

But, like always, something always frustrated his plans right when he was about to catch him...

A boom startled Warren. He really hoped it wasn't the car.

The sheriff raised his head to the sky and had to cover his eyes. It had started raining.

Luc and Julie heard it too but didn't mind it much. All that minded was the realization that they had seen each other before.

In a street in Paris...Or in a zoo...A park, maybe...

"You..." Luc muttered. "I knew there was a reason why you haunted my thoughts...This is not the first time we meet...We already met a long time ago...In a different place...With different looks..."

Warren thought he was delirious. But no, the whole town was looking at the sky, shouting. The sky was melting and falling over their heads!

Julie's chest stopped trembling for a second to stare at Luc, as if it was the first time she actually saw him. She froze completely and Luc smiled.

"Ah! It seems we are destined to find each other again and again...Maybe...we meet one more time...eventually...Who knows where..."

Julie finally reacted, letting out a sob again, burying her face on his shoulder. He stank, dear God, did he stink, but that didn't stop her now. He couldn't die...He couldn't...

Luc did nothing to stop it now. Now he remembered what the Dip was. That was where he was sure he was going to be taken. Oblivion. Darkness. The punishment for not adapting to a quickly changing world. It seemed he was to die anyways. In that case, why fight it? He didn't want to fight anymore. At least he would not be alone, as he feared. She was there, with him. She loved him just as much as he loved her. Everything was as it was supposed to be. His heart had finally found the love he so desired and his soul was at peace.

The sheriff wanted to move but found he couldn't. He watched how drop after drop fell, dying everything around with bright colors. His suit never looked whiter until that substance fell on it. The little drops started falling faster and harder, until it was a downpour. People around them screamed, more in awe than fright. There was no shelter possible, for the substance dissolved everything, buried everything and everyone under it.

Luc stood up a little bit to join her into a hug. The ceiling of the car melted. A few drops slipped down his head and back, drawing a white line in his dark uniform.

If he had to die...It was okay. Dying in the hands of his true love...was the sweetest death...

His lips kissed her hair when everything disappeared.

Chapter Text

It took Penelope a bit of time to raise her head and realize that she was not sat inside of a car, but on pavement. Hand-drawn pavement. She rose her eyes and found tall buildings which kept on going beyond her sight and, among them, a big full moon with marked crates.

She looked down and found delicate, fluffy paws and black fur. She inspected her body and confirmed she was all covered in fur; she also had a tail, whiskers and her ears were on the top of her head.

And in her arms was not a man, but a skunk. 'Luc!', she wanted to exclaim, but she knew that was not his name. It was Pepé. He had always been Pepé.

He didn't move! He remained with his eyes closed after she shook him. He had no blood on his side, no holes in his body, but he still didn't move. Didn't he turn back into a toon before it was too late?

Right when she was about to mourn him, Pepé wrapped his arms around her into a very tight hug.

"Ah, mon amour!" He exclaimed.

By their side, Foghorn Leghorn felt his whole body. Beak, feathers, wattle...Everything was back and looking swell! It felt so right he started laughing with glee.

Coyote looked at his own hands, furry, clawed. It felt way lighter, as if he had got rid of a heavy burden. Martin…No, he was Wile E. Coyote! Why did he ever think his name was Martin? That seemed so stupid. And in front of him, there he was. Road Runner, if that was even a name. The Road Runner. There he was, with his blue feathers and orange beak. The bird tilted his head to one side and inspected his own paw. For a second, Coyote lost interest on him and looked around him.

«Tom!», «Dick!», «Larry!»...Around him, toons ran to hug each other, reunited with their lost friends and relatives, cheered, admired their recovered animal form.

"Well, what do you know!" Bugs exclaimed, looking at the surroundings with a smile. "True love's kiss really breaks the spell!"

"We're...back!" Elmer exclaimed, putting down his gun.

"¡Hurra!" Speedy cheered, throwing his hat in the air.

A person of flesh and bone approached, a smile curving his mustache.

"What are you celebrating?"

"Oh, hi, Les!" Bugs greeted him. 

Les, the old guard of Toon Town! He looked around him with curiosity but no surprise.

"Do you...remember us?" Elmer asked.

"As if the bosses would allow anyone to forget you, with your new shows and movies!" Les chuckled. "I assume you heard about that big guy joining the cast for your new flick?"

"Uh..." 

"You're looking swell, Bugs, did you do to something to your ears?" Les asked the rabbit, proving that he had no idea of what had happened to Toon Town and everyone in it. And Bugs nonchalantly answered to kind without any intention of telling him.

When they finally opened their eyes, much after the downpour had concluded, Granny, Tweety and Sylvester found they were embracing each other as tightly as they could, Sylvester even sinking his claws into the old lady's body. They exchanged a surprised look but still didn't let go of each other.

Marvin needed a bit of time to come back to his senses. He woke up lying on the ground, stood up with much confusion. He stood there, his brain still processing where he was, what he was feeling, the mere fact that he was there.

"Marv! You're back, you're alright!" Daffy was the one who brought him back to Earth. He was so, so happy he did something he would have never thought he would do: give him a hug.

"Hm?" Marvin blinked then opened his eyes wide to feel his entire body. Not only was it whole, but it also had the perfect proportions, no strange openings and protuberances. "Oh, goodie! Everything is back to its place and I feel like new! Isn't that lovely?" And his expression of delight turned into a sneer as he turned to the two black and white toons who were being surrounded by the crowd, laser pistol in hand. "Now I've got everything I need to settle things..."

"Yeah!"

"Get 'em!"

Beans and Buddy tried to draw back, but in every direction they went to was a snarling, armed, angry toon. Guns aimed at them, fists were ready to punch them, bats swung at them.

"W-Wait! Stop!" Porky got in the way, using his own body as a shield.

"Get out of the way, pig! Let us take the garbage out!" Yosemite Sam exclaimed, a gun on each hand.

"You can't hurt them!"

"Oh, we can and we...WILL!" Red Riding Hood replied.

"Why not? They cursed us!" Giovanni Jones grunted.

"They shall learn no one touches my spells and get away with it!" Hazel the witch protested.

"Let's get 'em, boys." Rocky grunted, already pulling his pistol out.

"Come on, Porky, let us thank them for everything they've done to us!" Elmer joined the crowd, grabbing his shotgun.

"Yeah, if they didn't want retribution, they shouldn't have done it." Daffy nodded.

"But Daffy, wou-wou-wouldn't you have done something like this if you had-had-had had the chance?" Porky asked.

"Absolutely not!" Daffy crossed his arms.

"Be honest..."

Daffy frowned, looking away. "...Welll...It never occurred to me..."

"Which of you has ne-never thought of making the most popular to-toons pay for the insults, the ate-attention they stole you?" Porky addressed the mob. "Which of you can ho-honestly say they would have ne-never messed with magic to make things ri-ri-right for them?"

No one dared to say "me". A few opened their mouths to close them again. Take for instance Henery Hawk, who started with his own series and had to step aside to make way to the talkative rooster who was supposed to be part of the attrezzo. Or those black and white toons, so similar to Mickey Mouse and other stars from that time period that they were disregarded back in their day and still ignored nowadays, considered mere curiosities, shameless copies. Or Honey Bunny, Bugs' girlfriend for a long time until someone from the high places decided that she looked too much like Bugs in a drag, created Lola and she stole both her fame and her man's heart. Who among them could say they would have never done something of the sort?

"Y'know...Porky's right." Bugs walked to his side. "All of us could have been in their place. Today we are up here, tomorrow—who knows!"

"So you're telling us to just forget what these maggots've done to us?" George the Cat complained.

Bugs turned his eyes to Beans and Buddy.

"Not forget, nor even forgive. But just take a little while to think if they truly deserve to be beaten up to a pulp." He said.

One more toon approached Buddy and Beans. A reverent silence fell upon the toons. Bosko. After gazing at his failed successors, The Talk-Ink Kid rubbed his chin in silence, then addressed the crowd.

"All right, folks, whatever you decide to do with them, remember that they are still toons and this is where they belong. All of this happened because we were not able to take care of those who are less lucky, remember." He then approached the two toons to mutter. "I think this is the moment when you keep a low profile until things calm down..."

It seemed his intervention finally convinced the other toons. No one laid a hand on the pair. Some started to leave, willing to forget about that nightmare as soon as possible. Someone approached to grab Buddy's arm. The boy let out a low exclamation, seeing Cookie, his Cookie, come to take him home. With a hug and muttered words of apology, Buddy broke the circle around him. Towser barked happily at him, swinging his tail.

Beans was left alone, and Porky was sorry about it. He approached to offer him his hand, but Beans smacked it, stood up and ran away, into the dark alleys of Toon Town, away from everyone's sight. Porky sighed with sadness.

He felt many hands touching him, arms around him. Daffy was there, comforting him. And Bugs. And Speedy. And Lola.

"You've always had a big heart. Maybe too big for a Looney." Bosko smiled, and he also patted his shoulder.

"Absolutely. That makes him the bigger loon here." Bugs replied.

His eyes turned towards Daffy, and, even though he didn't say anything, Daffy understood perfectly what he wanted to tell him and smiled back at him.

"Come on, Babsy. Let's go home." Buster took Babs' hand and together they walked away.

"I need a shower after this..." Red sighed, making her way home.

"Just in time for our shift, eh, Ralph?" Sam the Sheepdog walked away with Ralph Wolf by his side.

Sylvester heard a tiny voice calling him. «Father!» Junior jumped into his arms and he welcomed him with a hug. Him and his son purred in delight for being together again. However, Sylvester couldn't help turning his eyes at Granny, who was caressing Tweety's head with the tip of a finger while he chirped merrily, and sigh. He was about to walk away too in his child's company, when Granny stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Sylvester turned around, inquisitive. Granny was about to say something, but was interrupted by the Tazmanian Devil roaring at them. Oh, yes. That. They had to take care of that first thing...

"Y'know? You guys overestimate me much. It's true I was the first, but you've got way more merit than I, or Buddy, Beans or even Bugs, Daffy and he others, I'd say. You were the first to win the hearts of the public, and you didn't need to raise your voice or do over-the-top tricks. That's why I admire you. Don't tell." Bosko whispered, and winked at Porky before walking away.

While the others went back to their usual business, Porky stayed there, pensive.

Back to the desert. It was much better that way. He was not made to live in a house—a cave, that was much better to him.

Back to the old drawing board, the plans, the ACME catalog...

By God, was he hungry...

Something almost ran over him, making him flip in the air and fall on his stomach. The Road Runner zoomed away, leaving him a storm of sand and dirt. When the mist disappeared, the bird was out of his reach, of course–but it hadn't fled.

There he saw it, standing on top of a hill, his silhouette on the moon. It was not such a big distance after all, because Coyote was sure that the foul was looking at him, and he could tell a bittersweet expression was on his face. Coyote didn't move, just gazed at him in silence. Then the Road Runner stuck out his tongue, making a loud sound, like "beep beep", and ran out of his sight, following the road that crossed the desert in half.

Encouraging him to follow him and try to catch him.

Coyote drew a smile. That was not a goodbye. They would meet again really soon, because his mind, now free from those worldly worries and feelings, was working again on a plan to catch it and eat it. Of course, he would see it again, and there was no reason to feel sad. Now things were was they were supposed to be.

It had been fun, though. Deep inside, Coyote had to admit—it had been nice to live a life in which the two of them had the chance to speak to each other and say all the things that had been kept unsaid...

Tweety hummed a song while swinging inside his golden cage. From there, he had a perfect view of the living room: Junior was playing with a yarn inside his basket in a corner, Granny slept on an armchair and Sylvester lying on her lap, curled up against himself. He had the feeling that the distant sound he was perceiving was him, purring. He had thought the cat was sleeping until he stretched himself with a lazy groan.

"Putty tat." Tweety called him.

"Hm?"

"Will you miss how things worked before?"

"Nah." Sylvester scratched his back with a little smile. "Things were too complicated. This is not so bad."

"Oh, yes." Tweety looked at his cage with delight. "I wouldn't change this for anything. It was nice being bigger but only for a while."

"Home..."

"Yep…"

Tweety had been so distracted admiring his lovely home that he hadn't noticed Sylvester getting up and grabbing a chair to open the door.

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes!" Sylvester grinned, and introduced a hand inside the cage.

"Do that and you will sleep out in the rain." Granny said, not moving a single inch, not opening her eyes.

Her tone was so convincing even if it wasn't really menacing that Sylvester faked a smile and patted Tweety on the head.

At the door, the Tazmanian Devil shook the wooden box he was trapped in with the help of duck tape, nails and rope. They were eager to send it back to whatever jungle it came from in the next airmail, it was too loud.

"I cannot believe it! This is so charmant, no?"

"Le meow!"

All the kisses and hugs were pretty and nice...for a while. That is, until Penelope's nose started perceiving Pepé's smell again. And the way he smelled as a human was nothing compared to what he smelt like as a skunk.

He didn't want to let go. She liked him but he was too close. Oh, le gosh, that smell was abominable!

"We lost our memories, got different looks but our paths crossed! Oh, we were destined to be together! Isn't that wonderful?"

Foghorn looked at them and chuckled.

"It's so nice to see people love each other. Anyway, this' been, I say, this' been the trippiest experience I've ever had and we're gonna need some time to forget it. I'm leaving you, sweethearts." Pepé didn't listen to him, his whole world now was Penelope, and all he did was kiss and hug her and rub his cheek against hers. She silently pleaded him for help. "No, no, don't speak. I must leave. We have gone through so much together and we'll never forget it, it's a bond, of course, but it's time to take different paths. And I have some unfinished business to attend, old friends to…Heheh…Visit."

"Ah, l'amour! Ah, pour tojours!" Pepé kept exclaiming, filling Penelope with kisses, not paying attention to him.

"Taylor Jones, huh?" Foghorn grabbed a plank and left the scene with a smile, to meet the barnyard dog...

She couldn't stand it! It was sickening! This simply couldn't work! She needed a clothespin, cologne, anything! Penelope fought with all her might and got to escape from his embrace and ran as fast as she could, to look for something to end with that abominable smell!

"Ah! How playful she is! She puts her spell on me, leaves me wanting for more and then runs away…" Pepé clicked his tongue seductively. "I love that...If she wants to play, we shall play."

He had given her enough advantage, so there he went, jumping on his four legs, with no hurry, because he was sure that she would end in his arms again pretty soon.

The forest, exactly as he remembered it…The hole which was the entrance to the rabbit's house, his hunting clothes, they were animals…Now everything was familiar and finally it felt right.

"And we're alive! Oh, thank goodness!" Daffy grabbed Bugs before he got into his hole. "You idiot! You could have got us killed with your blindness and stupidity!"

"But I didn't." Bugs replied. "I saved the day, didn't I?"

"You? Ha! It was me who helped you wake up!"

"I think it was...Elmer." Lola smirked, pointing at the hunter.

"Me?" He bashfully asked, pointing at himself.

"I'm mad at you. Why Elmer and not me?" Lola frowned at Bugs.

"That's eighty years of bickering and kissing and drag, my lovely, don't be mad." He smiled, embracing her. "All we can ask for now is that, from now on, Hazel keeps her spells and potions out of everyone's reach."

"Well, that was fun. And at least I got my memories before you." Daffy said to Bugs.

Bugs shrugged. "Yep, good for you."

"Yeah, everything's back to normal…" Elmer nodded slowly.

Silence.

"…And just in time for duck season!"

"Ah, that's perfect! We can just–" Daffy's smile faded when he felt the tip of Elmer's gun pressing against his temple. "What?! At this time of the year! Why you–! No! You're mistaken! It's rabbit season!"

"Absolutely not! Didn't you read the newspaper?" Bugs shook his head.

"Well no..." Elmer muttered.

"Wait a second." Bugs disappeared into his house, then emerged with a newspaper in hand, and a pencil in the other. "Here! It says it clearly!"

Written by hand, was the announcement. DUCK SEASON OPEN.

"You won't fall for that, will you?" Daffy confronted Bugs. "Shoot it, it's rabbit season!"

"Duck season!"

"Rabbit season!"

"Duck season!"

"Rabbit season!"

Lola shrugged and sighed.

"Yes. There's no place like home." She said with a tired voice, and opened Bugs' door to have some of his carrot pie. She deserved it after what she had been through. When she closed the door, she heard a bang but she didn't come out to see who had been shot. She had her own guess.

"Will you be-be-be-be alright?" Porky looked at the mouse with a worried expression.

"Sure I'll be!" Speedy replied. "I'll spend the rest of the night in the cantina celebrating we are back with my family and friends! Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Porky turned around to glance at Petunia, who was smiling from the sofa.

"Maybe another day, thank you."

"Whenever you want to, you are an amigo."

"Thanks…a-ami-mi-migo."

Speedy saluted him like a military and then, when he was about to leave, turned to Porky.

"And you? Will you be alright?"

Porky looked away once more, this time at the picture hanging next to the door. Speedy looked at it too.

It was a very old picture, dated from the late thirties. All of them were there: Chuck, Tex, Bob, Robert, Friz, Bugs, Frank, Virgil, Tedd, Mike..., Leon too. In the front row, them, the toons, since they were notably shorter. Many were missing because they wouldn't be created until a decade or two later, but Daffy and Bugs were already there, one next to the other, seemingly competing to see who made the ugliest face. They were all in their primitive designs; they barely looked like themselves. And, on the center, him and Beans, with their arms resting on the other's shoulder, smiling at the camera.

"Yeah..."

Speedy nodded, understanding.

"What I said, I'm keeping it. Don't think too much. Believe me, it will be the best. After all, we are Looney Tunes. We don't think much. Well, see you soon!"

He saluted again and, in a second, he had left.

Well, that mouse was really quick! Porky took a look outside, even though he couldn't see him, and finally closed the door. He gave the old friends offering him an eternal smile from the picture a last glance. He smiled at Petunia as he came close to her. His sofa, his carpet, his painting hanging on the wall and her. Everything was back and perfect.

"Did you miss me, honey?" Petunia asked him, wrapping her arms around him.

"Of course I did. Now it f-feels complete." Porky kissed her lips and Petunia giggled.

"Uh, Pe-Petunia, darling, if you don't mind I gotta-go-gotta…"

"Of course, go ahead. I'll be right here."

Porky smiled, left Petunia on the sofa and approached you.

TH-TH-TH-THAT'S ALL FOLKS! (Oh, it feels so good to be back!)