COUNTERWEIGHT
“A-yeeeee!” ”Oh boy.”” Sorry!” “You’ll be just fine, pal, that’ll wash out.” “Oh yeah, that’s a real classic. Can’t they come up with anything new? I swear, some people.” Fourth-rate toon, Billy Bunny is once again careening through the street on some out of control contraption. (No relation to the big guy, or those two, or those OTHER two. Or Frank Bunny from accounting. Or anyone really, if you think about it. Poor guy’s on his own.)
This time, he’s managed to put himself out-of-control of an old-timey streetcar, somehow. He’s squashing and stretching the thing, and going a million gags-a-minute creating small disasters in lieu of bigger ones.
Avoiding a pane of glass being carried through the street, just for the shockwave of the car’s landing to shatter every pane of glass in the storefronts along the street. But hey, the one he jumped over got away scott free! “There ya go! That’s a win.”
Billy zips out ahead to help a little old lady across the street so she wouldn’t get splatted, but then, she puts on a ski mask and pulls out a comically large revolver to rob the bank on the other side of the crosswalk. “Eh, you can’t win ‘em all.”
Billy manages to grind the car to a stop inches before it fails to make the turn at the bottom of the hill and launches itself straight into the bay. But who should be watching all of this unfold, sitting on a conveniently placed park bench? Some guy… named Mike. Probably an accountant or something, Probably works under Frank Bunny. Who knows, who cares?
“Another rough week, Billy?” Mike asks, rhetorically. These two already have a rapport. Mike always seems to find himself crossing paths with Billy Bunny at the worst times.
“Aw shucks, Y’know it, Mikey.” Billy answers casually, as if he wasn’t directly responsible for a swath of property damage, humorous bodily injury, and equally humorous moral injury, as well as one count of improperly parking a fictional vehicle. “Ain’t no one wants to give poor ol’ Billy Bunny a round o’ ap-plause. Not even a good old ‘bravo~! Makes me wonder what the hijizuts I’m even doin’ this fer. Maybe it’s time for me to go back to the inkwell. Try again as one o’ them newfangled blobs with the creepy square teeth.”
Billy denies that notion just as quickly as it came out of his mouth. “Aw, what am I sayin’. That ain’t me. And dimes to don’its, I’ll bet’cha I won’t do one lick better, I tell ya.”
“Oh no, Billy, don’t even think of that. You’re more fun just the way you are!” Mike does his best to keep Billy motivated. “You need someone to say ‘bravo?’ I’ll say it for you, all you need. Bravo, bravo, bravo!”
Billy’s a choosing beggar. “You wouldn’t mind giving me juuust~ one more, would’ja?”
“Uh… Bravo?” Mike adds, believing he had already made his point.
Just then, a passing seagull has a war flashback, triggered by the repetition of the word ‘Bravo,’ causing him to crash into a street sign, then plummet straight onto the battered mooring, barely holding the bell to the streetcar. That impact is the last little bit of force required to break the bell loose causing it to bounce off of the roof of the car and straight onto Mike’s head.
Mike is left seeing literal swirling stars, and a tall bump rises out of the top of his head as he reels, then collapses to the ground.
Billy Bunny hops down from the streetcar in a mild panic. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows Mike will be fine, but The Code compels him to try at least something in a situation like this.
With no funnier options coming to mind, Billy goes for one of the oldest tricks in the book. He blows on his thumb, inflating himself to the curvy, voluptuous shape and size of a buxom mid-century showstopper, after a whirlwind costume change, he’s wearing an extremely provocative cheerleader’s outfit. One that would have been too lewd even 20 years ago. He's updated the gimmick somewhat, but even then, he’s still behind the times. Nevertheless, he does his best Valley Girl impression to go along with it. “O-M=G. That’s totally not good. I need to, totally, like, kiss it, or something - to make him feel better!”
By now, Mike’s shaken off all but one of the stars on his own. “Ugh, maybe if you let just a little bit of that air out, mostly up top. That’s a little too much for me.”
Billy produces a pin, with which he bursts the fluffy protrusions, which then sag until he also produces an old, hot flatiron to smooth them out. Wincing in exaggerated pain the whole time. Likewise, the air was also taken out of his impression. “You better appreciate this pal, I don’t do special variations for just anybody.”
“Don’t worry Billy, I do appreciate it.” In a sort of left turn, Mike’s taking the opportunity to flirt? “You’ve hit on something special here. If I could make my eyes pop out of my head like you guys can, that’s what’d be happening right about now.”
Billy is taken aback, like they’ve gone off-script “Wait just a darn minute, Mikey. I didn’t know you-y’swung that way. You’re not flippin’ the script on me and playin’ the screwball yerself, are ya? I ain’t no fool. That’s ster-ict-ly against my contract.”
“It’s real, Billy. Now hurry up and do it already, so this last star can stop pestering me.” Mike’s patience for the toonforce dizziness is at its limit.
Billy Bunny does as he has a million times before. He plants a big, sloppy kiss right on Mike’s mouth, complete with a loud “MWAH!” Every single one of those countless times, it’s been a gag. The other guy would turn to the camera in confusion and discomfort, realizing he’d been deeply embarrassed by the blatantly obvious deception of one Billy Bunny. But this time, it’s different. Sparks fly, literally, of course. And that last star? It perks right up and leaves Mike behind, It hops, bounces and cartwheels like it has a mind of its own — into a storm drain.
Billy manages to take notice of the errant star’s fate. “Oof. That can’t be good. I hoid the sewer gator population barely survived the last time that happened. Oh well. Not our problem, is it?
The wellbeing of the alligators of the city’s sewage system being out of his hands, Billy still can’t believe that Mike could possibly be telling the truth. Billy has never had anyone, man or woman, like-like him before. It’s always been a distant, professional fondness for a relic who got left in the dust early on. He almost can’t believe he could ever deserve it. “Just so we’re all perfectly crystal clear here, You really ain’t pullin’ my cute little pawsies, Mikey?”
Mike reiterates his genuine interest in Billy. “I told you, I’m not. You’re just that cute, Billy. There aren’t any strings attached, No pies in your face. Every time we’ve had a little encounter, it’s been a pipe dream of mine that you’d dig up that old chestnut. I always felt a little jealous when I saw you do that to other people on TV.”
Billy’s eyes spin like the reels of a slot machine. The right eye lands on BAR, and the left lands on a heart. He reaches into a back pocket that shouldn’t be there, fishes out a large, wooden mallet. and bashes himself on the head with it, jarring the reel to also display a heart.
“Well, ain’t that lucky. I just so happen to gots a table for two reserved at ‘Lay Grond Sha-tow Day Pray-tonce’ for an hour from now!” Billy can really pull anything out of thin air, can’t he?
“That’s surprisingly convenient. Did you plan this?” Mike is eager to believe that. It would be like a dream come true for him to be swept off his feet in some grand plan on Billy Bunny’s part.
“Heck no!” Billy doesn’t even try to soften the blow. “Don’cha remember ‘The Modern Young Hare-fessional? I made this reservation 60 years ago! And here I thought I was gonna have to skip it!”
“Sorry Billy, You still might have to. I’m not dressed fancy enough for that, In fact, I don’t think I even own anything that lives up to their dress code.” Mike admits, loathe to fumble this opportunity.
“Nonsense, you’ll clean up just fine, Mikey!” Billy grabs Mike by the back of the neck, lifts him into the air, and pulls out an old fashioned rug beater. It gets used prodigiously, stirring up a large cloud of dust that obscures everything but the meaty sound of battering and Mike’s moderate cries of pain. “Ow, ow ow. Ow! OW! Ow… Ow. Are you done yet?”
“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t know you were such a little wimp, Mikey.” Billy remarks, as the dust cloud clears to reveal Mike in a tuxedo well above his pay grade, and Billy in a beautiful, long flowing blue dress that seems to sparkle as it catches the light. “We have to return these by midnight, just so ya know, or the lease paperwork for my apartment’s going to turn into a pumpkin and I’ll lose my deposit”
Billy gushes about the fancy restaurant as he leads Mike by the arm in a giddy rush. “You’re just gonna love this place, Mikey. It’s a lotta fun. Some o’ the best in the darn business are there all the time. It’s a real riot.”
For living in a world with toons, Mike isn’t too well acquainted with their peculiarities. “You waited 60 years for this, I figured it was some stuck up fancy-pants affair.”
“Oh yeah, It sure is. But Rule One’s never suspended!” Billy’s excitement is overflowing. He has big things in mind, for sure.
“Rule One?” Mike asks, cautiously.
“Y’don’t know Rule One? I guess ya wouldn’t. You ain’t a toon! Rule One: ALWAYS! HAVE! FUN!” Billy explains. “And I got some real fun plans in mind for you, Mikey. They’ll really knock ‘em dead! …But I bet we’ll be the ones enjoyin’ ‘em most o’ all!”
They arrive at the restaurant, and it is very fancy indeed, although it’s much more like a burlesque club than Mike was expecting. But on second thought, it’s perfectly within Billy Bunny’s wheelhouse, and he feels foolish for having expected something different.
Inside, there’s a markedly theatrical atmosphere. Mike’s the odd one out, too, all of the staff and patrons are toons. But who else could stand to keep reservations decades into the future? “Hey, Billy, I’m not going to be served a roast chicken with a stick of dynamite in it, or a 2D meatloaf, am I? Are you sure this is the kind of place I belong?”
“They’re very~ accommodating, Mikey-boy. Don’t you worry none.” Billy reassures him, awash with sultry implications that seem to go right over Mike’s head.
They’re seated at opposite ends of a very long table. “I knew I shouldn’t have reserved a table for a long-distance relationship. But I’d be field-dressed if I was gonna take the reservation in 120 years instead!”
Billy’s thoughts turn to the plans he somehow made in advance. “At least I thought ahead and paid for the ‘charm package!’ That’ll get him eatin’ outta my paws in no time! Maybe a li’l more’n that, If I’m lucky! -lucky… lucky~”
Billy thought that so loudly that Mike could almost hear it. “Did you say something? Must be feedback or something.”
Billy Bunny’s ears twist together as he blushes and stretches bashfully. He almost gave up the game. His insatiable lagomorphic instincts are telling him to turn up the flirt-o-meter immediately. But he can’t. That’d be too fast, wouldn’t it?
“You okay over there, Billy!? It’s hard to see you from all the way over here!” Mike yells from all the way across the table, which is now much longer than it started. Spanning most of the floor.
Billy glances nervously to both sides. “It’s fine Mikey! Been a long time since I did anything like this. I got a little o’ that ‘perfoimance anxiety!’
“What? I can’t hear you!” Mike shouts, the table now being longer than could even fit in the building earlier.
Billy Bunny doesn’t stand for this nonsense. He stretches his arms out to violently yank Mike’s end of the table back to its original position. “I said- I said I got perfoimance anxiety, Mikey.”
“You’re performing? That’ll be fun. Condition of the reservation, huh?”
Billy grips his neck to physically catch an outburst as it rises in his throat, before he says something he regrets. “Naw, It’s just been… A long time… since I been on a date. Let’s see here.” Billy raises a hand to count on it. “Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten” Five extra fingers appear on his hand as he counts them. “Leventwelvethoiteenfourteenfifteen, uh, twenny” Another hand appears from nowhere. Then another. “Thoity, I think. The reruns o’ the 70s shows was the last time I was eatin’ good.
Mike can’t believe Billy’s been struggling that long. He can’t even fathom it. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about toons. “No one’d give you the time of day, Billy? Or were you just so focused on getting back into the limelight you didn’t have time for anything else?”
“Little o’ column A, little o’ column B. You’re nothin’ in this business unless you got some eyes on ya.” Billy vents eagerly. This is the first time he’s had the chance. “Nothin, I tell ya. It’s like ya don’t even exist! Outta sight, outta mind. No matter how many pies you take ta the face, or the wacky hijinks ya get up to. No one spares a second thought for li’l old me. Ain’t that the saddest thing?”
Mike offers his support. “Well, I’m a fan, Billy. I’ve always thought you were funny, More than just funny, even. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
Billy Bunny plays down his drawn-that-way charm, hoping Mike will double down. “More? I bet it’s just me goin’ off-model that’s caught your eye. I bet if I let the rest o’ the air out, you’d walk right outta here.”
The gambit works. “I like the extra assets, I can’t lie about that, Billy, but you don’t need them. You’re plenty cute as the short, squishy guy you usually are. You don’t need to change yourself for me.” Realizing that might come off as a request for Billy to go back to normal already, Mike awkwardly walks it back. “N-not if you don’t want to. Ha ha!”
That’s the green light for Billy. He’s not going to be able to hold himself back, and they haven’t even been seated long enough to look at the menu yet. He’s bright red and there’s steam coming out of his ears. Those rabbit proclivities are getting hard to control.
Mike doesn’t notice. He’s distracted by a waiter stumbling and fumbling with a very large cloche that seems to be hopping up and down.
Billy runs off to the bathroom like a streak. Then he returns just as fast. He glances at Mike, and he’s gone again. This repeats a few times, but Billy has to give it up. That waiter has the cloche under control now. Meanwhile, there’s a large volume of a strange substance oozing from under the bathroom door, Much to the confusion of a large brown bear toon who was about to go in.
Mike makes a sarcastic comment on the scene just after Billy gets back to his seat. “I bet they ordered the jumping beans, Or maybe a ‘steak so rare it’s still mooing. I guess I better get ready for an eclectic menu, huh? That’s what you’re in for when you’re dealing with toons. Speaking of…”
Mike picks up his menu, and Billy’s eyes grow huge in anticipation. But Mike doesn’t seem to notice. On the first page is “Today’s Special: ME!” Featuring an extremely lewd image of Billy Bunny in a compromised position on a tray, tied up with his goods on full display, while he looks back seductively with an apple stuffed in his mouth.
Mike is caught off guard by the presentation. “Oh, geez Billy. I think that old witch is running the kitchen. Don’t worry, I won’t order the special. The picture’s nice to look at, though. They really got your good side!
Frustrated by Mike’s obliviousness and aroused by the complement, Billy has to relieve the tension. Suddenly, he’s dressed like a cowboy, complete with hat. He’s fidgeting under the table and biting his lip. He couldn’t make what he’s doing any more obvious if he tried, but Mike’s still absorbed behind the large menu. Then, the sound of a revolver cylinder spinning and clicking into place. Billy “fires off a few shots” leaving bullet holes in the table, each with a trail of smoke rising from it.
Somehow, as Billy comes to realize, it seems like no one, least of all Mike, even noticed. “I didn’t think there was a storm in the forecast today… Ooh. Chicken Kiev AND Chicken Kyiv.”
“What’s- What’s the difference a-anyway, Mikey, ol buddy?” Billy is awkwardly playing along, still not sure how he got away with that.
“It looks like with the former, you get nothing on your plate, and you get hit in the head with the butt of a rifle. The other is a chicken cutlet filled with a garlic and parsley sauce. To each their own, I suppose.”
Billy isn’t a fan of the joke, he opens his own menu. “Yeesh. I think I’ll stick with something less controversial, like the ortolan. ,,,or the veal.”
With their orders taken care of, they get to small talk, feeling each other out. They’ve been acquainted for a while, but they haven’t really dug very deep into each other’s personal lives or preferences.
Billy breaks the ice. “So, Mikey-boy. What are you really after? How’s this gotta go for us both to walk outta here happy? What’s, let’s say, your ideal relationship? Whad’dya like?
“I’m big on dreams and ambitions, I’d say” Mike explains. “I’m a natural nurturer, there’s nothing I’d like more than to be there for someone who cares just as much about me as I do about him, and we’d work together to build something that lasts, something important and beautiful.”
Billy’s heart sinks a little bit. He’s worried this won’t go anywhere after all. That he’s not what Mike’s really looking for, just an experience to be had. Maybe Mike hasn’t been responding the way he hoped because he’s just not that interested?
“Well, gee, Mike. I dunno how far ya could go with an ol’ washed up scrap like me. I wouldn’t wanna hold ya back. And besides, You’d probably be better off with someone real. Not a toon like me.”
Mike explains himself. “I think you’ll find we could go pretty far together, Billy. I think there’s hope for you yet. I’d love to see you on top of the world, or at least your own little piece of it, again. And I’d love to be there at your side while you’re climbing back up. Now, I know I don’t have much hope of a normal relationship with a toon, especially an old-fashioned guy like yourself. But I’d settle for cuddles and lovey-dovey stuff if I had to, in a heartbeat. I’m so glad you’re hearing me out.”
Billy is taken aback at just how close he’s been the whole time. But Mike doesn’t know toons get frisky too. But Billy can’t just spit it out. That wouldn’t be funny. He has to continue laying it on thick by his own wit and charm, and hope it gets through to Mike somehow. If it keeps going the way it has so far, Billy might run out of ways to keep himself under control.
“I-I-I- I’m more than just hearin’ ya out, Mikey.” Billy stammers out. “Ya play your cards right, and ya just might find yourself livin’ the rabbit life alongside me, and everything that goes with it. If you, ah… Get my meaning. Ev-er-y. thing. Hintity-hint.”
“Ooh, you might have to meet me in the middle at least a little bit.” To Billy’s dismay, even being as unsubtle as he can, it goes straight over Mike’s head. “I don’t know how well I’d adapt to living underground. I could probably manage a vegetarian diet, though.”
To make matters worse, Billy’s finding the obliviousness cute. It has him hot and bothered again already. He has to do something about it. Now.
Thinking quickly, Billy directs Mike’s attention away. “Hey, Mikey. I think that might be your order. Looks like there might be a delay.” A fox, presumably one of the kitchen staff, is engaged in a slapstick chase with a loose chicken.
While Mike’s attention is rapt by the antics on display, Billy takes the opportunity to ‘clear his head.’ He pulls out a long balloon, inflates it, and quickly ties into the shape of an animal, before shoving it under the table. The sounds of the fox being repeatedly battered by his own attempts at catching the chicken do a fair job of covering the squeaking sounds coming from… Whatever BIlly’s doing to that balloon animal down there.
The fox manages to get a handle on the chicken, and drags it crowing and squealing back to the kitchen. “Y’can’t keep runnin’ off, Henny, I know Bette got on your nerves, but we need you in there. You’re the best layer we got!”
Billy’s balloon animal emerges from under the tablecloth, waddling like a gravid horse. “Go on, get outta here, you. Yah!” Billy whispers, slapping it on the flank, which sends it galloping away before anyone, least of all Mike, takes notice.
“Unless that was one outburst too many, I doubt that had anything to do with our orders, Billy. We’re good.” Mike says, relieved that it ended on a pleasant note.
And sure enough, their dishes are presented without incident. Billy receives a suspiciously heart shaped t-bone steak that appears to have ‘B+M’ on it. And Mike receives his chicken cutlet. The sauce inside it conspicuously spills out to spell ‘M+B’.
“Wow, that’s a funny coincidence, Isn’t it, Billy?” Mike asks, not even considering for a second that it could have been intentional.
"Come on, I’m definitely, definitely bein’ taken for a ride here.” Billy thinks to himself. “There’s no way this guy’s that innocent. Gosh, I’ll bet this is part o’ some grand ol’ plan to get me back in the saddle! Wouldn’t that be a hoot? Maybe Mikey’s a toon at heart!”
Of course, he doesn’t know for sure. Billy Bunny has found himself in a predicament entirely unlike the many he’s had to weasel his way through in the past.
Billy tries to puzzle out his options through the sound of the gears in his head grinding. “I can’t let him KNOW that I KNOW, because he might not KNOW nothin’ at all, and what I think I KNOW really ain’t nothin’. Mikey might just be that clueless, can’t rule that out. If he does KNOW, admittin’ I KNOW would ruin the gag, and that’s a big NO-NO, I KNOW that. And what if neither of us is s’posed to KNOW, and someone else set this up? Then me SHOWIN’ that I KNOW would let Mike KNOW it, and he’d probably SHOW it too, and we’d both be BLOWIN’ the whole thing. Gee, I don’t KNOW what to do.”
The ample volume of smoke rising from his ears nearly sets off the overhead smoke alarm, but Billy manages to reach up and throttle it like a snake, which terrifies it into fleeing out the window, whimpering like an injured dog.
That crisis averted, Billy wipes his brow and resolves to continue with the subtle approach, as hard as it’s been on him, He knows it may well be the point by now. And even if it’s not, he’s starting to think finding clever solutions to his ‘problem’ is breaking some new ground. Getting the creative juices flowing, in more than one sense.
Billy continues his struggle through several more cycles of innuendo-laden small talk and ‘stress relief.’
He probes at Mike’s relationship to other humans, “Tell me, what exactly, …got your wires crossed? Why ain’t you lookin’ to settle with a human lady, or failin’ that, at least one o’ your own kind? Why me?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, we’re just so boring compared to toons.” Mike admits, readily including himself. “That’s why it’s such a dream come true that this is even happening, Billy. I’ll go home happy no matter what happens here. You’ve made my day already. If not my whole year. That conk on the head was more than worth it. I’m still not sure that this isn’t a dream.”
Mike continues, “Even though I don’t really understand how intimacy works with toons, or whether we’re compatible or not. I’d be thrilled to try to make it work. If, God forbid, nothing comes of this, I think you’ve at least given me the courage to start putting myself out there.”
Billy doesn’t let him ramble any further than that. “Hey. Hey, Don’t be so down on yourself. Sure, it ain’t too common for a toon and human to get together, but it also ain’t unheard of.”
He stumbles over his next words. “If-if-if- If you play your cards right, I wouldn’t be opposed to taking things a step further.”
“Oh! Oh! Like a sitcom set up!” Mike is thrilled at the idea that popped into his head. “All kinds of good ideas there. Like maybe we’re just minding our own business, but there’s a mixup with the stork and we’re taking care of a kid for a day and it all goes crazy until the real parents show up.”
Mike’s attention is once again conveniently stolen by a large ape who has carried off a small mouse girl and is currently swinging from one of the chandeliers as toy biplanes circle. “Is it always so eventful here?”
Meanwhile, Billy’s instincts have been set off again by the talk of breeding. He grabs a nearby metal pail, kicks it under the table, and puts on a farmer’s straw hat. After a few seconds, there’s a groaning sound like an out of tune trumpet, then the hiss of flowing liquid as Billy’s face belies his relief.
Billy withdraws the now full pail and dumps its contents into a potted plant. The flowers immediately bloom into conspicuously bunny-shaped fruits, and Billy kicks the now empty pail, bouncing noisily back from whence it came.
The ape plummets from the chandelier after a last, well placed ping-pong ball to the chest.
“For shame! Can’t a man make his woman feel like she’s on top of the world anymore?” The mouse girl dramatically opines. “That’s it, Mark! We’re leaving. Hmph! And we ain’t payin’ squat, neither!
She drags the — much larger — unconscious ape straight out the front door in a huff.
“Wow, I guess that’s what happens when you assume. Anyway, as I was saying-” Billy interrupts Mike before he can continue rambling about his fantasy. “Mike, the storks ain’t been a thing since ‘72. That’s ol’ news.” The frustration is clearer than it’s been. Billy Bunny is totally out of patience.
But it makes no difference to Mike. “Oh. you order them online now? I should’ve guessed. Hey. That still works, though! Maybe even better. Yeah, we could still-”
That’s the last straw for Billy. “Raaagh! I can’t take it no more. Joke’s over!” He leaps across the table and topples Mike over in his chair.
He gets down in Mike’s face and vents his frustration. “I couldn’t’ve made it any darn clearer, Mikey! There ain’t no storks. It ain’t just cuddles and cutesy nonsense. You ain’t gonna be livin’ in a burrow. You’ve. Seen. My. Darn. BITS! It works exactly the way ya think it does, ya lump! I been tryin’ ta get ya to pounce on me with my wily charms! I got no clue if this is a bit, or if you really got rocks in your head, but I can’t take no more! To heck with it if it’s a joke. And hey, I ain’t too proud to play the fool. Ya hear me? You won. The torture’s too much for poor ol’ Billy~!”
Mike is overjoyed to be caught up in the blowout, grinning from ear to ear. Then he breaks out in raucous, genuine laughter. “So do I fit in? I think we’ve got a winner there. I almost couldn’t hold it together when I saw that balloon scamper off.”
Billy is put through a whirlwind of emotions. “What? How could you- This was all a- How dare you- Who even helped you-”
He finally settles on anger. “How dare you! I’ll teach you to play with my heart! We could’ve been so good together, too!” Billy pulls off one of his gloves, revealing another underneath. He uses the removed glove to slap Mike back and forth a few times, leaving him with big exaggerated lumps and welts, and a few missing teeth.
Mike continues laughing. “You’ve still got it, Billy. Two birds, one stone. You’ve proved you’ve still got the charm, And there’s no doubt I’m cut out for the toon life.”
He shakes off the damage to get back to normal. “Bring myself ‘down’ to the level of a toon, to lift you back up to the penthouse. Be the counterweight on your elevator ride back to stardom! I’m good for it. Frank Bunny tipped me off about the reservation, he sure is one of the best of us. Always looking out for me. All I had to do was be in the right place at the right time, and I’d get my shot.”
Billy is relieved slightly at the confirmation of Mike’s good intentions, but he still feels lead on. “That teasin’ ain’t no good, Mikey. It really hurts to know you’re just some really dedicated fan. I was hopin’ we had more in store. I like-liked you.”
“That’s part of the plan, too, Billy. You’ll get your treat.” Mike’s intentions weren’t all selfless. “I haven’t lied to you once. We can go as far as you’d like. I really do think you’re cute, and I really do like that shape you’ve puffed yourself up into.”
“You could’ve had all o’ this right away, and you bit your tongue for some hare-brained gambit?” Billy asks.
“It wouldn’t have been so much fun. Rule One, remember?” Mike has him dead to rights. And Billy finally acknowledges the humor. “Hey, yeah. I get it. That is pretty funny! Ya flipped the script on me. I’m almost never the one gettin’ worked. Now that I think about it, it makes a nice change o’ pace! Might even be some kinda break through!”
“But that don’t mean you’re gettin’ off scot=free, pal.” Billy is ready to finally address what’s been bothering him all night. “You’re gonna have to make up for all that emotional distress ya caused me!”
Billy drags Mike up onto the stage, but not to put on a show. Far from it. It’s for privacy. Billy gives a devious, devilish grin, then tugs on the rope to draw the curtains closed behind him. Written on those curtains are the words ‘The End.”
From behind the curtains, various sounds of heavy machinery can be heard. “Wow. Those two are really going at it.” A stoic beagle waiter remarks.
“I’ll bet.” Adds the owner, a rat with an appealing figure in his own right. “That noise… Is not them, however. They are… resurfacing the street outside.”
“Those lovebirds are in deep trouble, aren’t they? Or, let me guess, you’re going to be merciful for the sake of love?”
“Absolutely not! Did you not see how that cretin left the restroom? They are… never getting back in these doors.”
For Mike, it’s unlikely to matter. And for Billy, he doesn’t have a reason to care. They’re happy, they’ll have a great story to tell, and a whole new dynamic to take the world by storm with. Together.