Post by The Unknown on Jun 27, 2008 18:05:41 GMT -5
Okay, I edited it and made it "4kids friendly" in some way. Jokes for Smart "Guy" will not make any sense. Therefore, keep in mind of his real name, please. That'll make it easier for me (making jokes is going to be a lot harder for the edited version!). 
I dunno when I'll have chapter two up, so just keep checking for updates. Also make sure to look at "Orphan Updates" on the Ideas and Comments for any important information that I may post about upcoming chapters or events. If you have any questions, advice or concerns, please notify me through a note. Otherwise, please be sure to comment!
I do not own the rights to any of the WFRR characters. Sam, as well as some others along the way, belong to me.
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Orphan
Chapter One
It was a hot summer day on June 1, 1947. So hot, an egg could be cooked on the ground. So hot, the amount of water in people could evaporate and leave a skeleton to tap dance in the abyss of nowhere. So hot…well, it’s hot.
- But wait -
A small, ragged stranger is trekking across the bare land, only a mere stick supporting this stranger. The small one stumbles. The stranger slowly rises back up and, along with the stick, moves on. It has two bags, one being a guitar case, riding on its back. A worn piece of cloth hangs on top of the stranger’s head, covering the face, as if the stranger’s face bared a hideous secret. The stranger takes out a flask, unscrews the lid, and brings it to his or her lips. No water comes out. The stranger lifts the flask far from the mouth and shakes it, but the flask is as dry as the ground itself. The stranger curses and puts the flask back into its pocket. Our stranger’s journey continues.
By mid-afternoon, with the sun a quarter to the west, the stranger stops to observe a sign: ‘Welcome to Los Angeles, California, City of Angels.’ The stranger grunts and croaks, “You’re my angel, all right.” The stranger removes the cloth dangling uselessly over its head and reveals our stranger to be a young, undeveloped girl, about twelve years of age, with very pale skin, unruly black hair, and the most startling light blue eyes. She was panting and her face was flushed, sweat glistening on her forehead. She placed a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun and stared longingly at the sign once more.
Girl: I made it. I can’t believe it, but I made it. I’m finally here…
The girl puts on a strained, crooked smile, walked past the sign and into the city of Los Angeles.
Los Angeles was a city like any other, except maybe a bit more glamorous. The streets were crowded. There was so much noise and rich smells. Large buildings loomed over the land. All this had caught the young girl’s attention. A Red Car passed by, and the driver waved to her. The girl gave a slight wave of her hand and half-smiled in a friendly manner.
Girl: Los Angeles is a neat place so far. It’s got warm, sunny weather, friendly people, and nice…texture. These Red Cars I’ve heard about are also pretty neat. I think they were called, what, “the best transportation around L.A.?”
The Girl gave a slight nod and dug her hands into her pockets. She pulled out a lumpy, molding wallet.
Girl: Now, how much money do I have left?
The Girl opened her wallet and found twenty-five cents. There was a slight pause as the girl stared dumbfounded at her wallet. She pulled out the twenty-five cents and placed them on the palm of her hand. She stared some more, as if waiting for the coins to magically turn into bills.
Girl: …Two bits? That’s it? But that-that can’t be all that’s left…That’s enough for a hair cut, but not enough for an apartment…How-
Realization suddenly dawned on the young girl’s face. She thought back for a moment.
Girl: The man with the tickets…
The girl threw her fists into the air and shrieked in a rage.
Girl: That jerk ripped me off!! That rotten, bloody, no-good mother-
She paused and looked around. People had stopped their afternoon stroll to stare at the young girl throwing a tantrum. The girl brainstormed in her head and suddenly placed a hand behind her head and forced a laugh.
Girl: Don’t mind me, folks! I’m just, uh, practicing my audition for a play! Yeah! It’s extreme, yes, so I have to practice every now and then, wherever I may be!
She forced another laugh. The crowd shook their heads and continued their daily activity. As soon as the attention was focused away from her, the girl sighed.
Girl: This sucks. I don’t have any money…and I bet that guy back in Utah is enjoying himself to a bottle of tequila, the con artist.
The girl dug into her breast pocket on her torn coat and pulled out a cigarette and matches. She took out a match, lit it, placed it on her cigarette, and brought the cigarette to her lips. She took a deep breath and blew out smoke.
Girl: I shouldn’t have bought all of that food, either. It was all taken by animals, anyway.
She paused as she puffed out smoke.
Girl: Maybe I should camp out on the streets ‘till I can get a job. Then again, it’s dirty and dangerous, but…maybe…
She clenched her fists.
Girl: No. I’m not going to no stinkin’ shelter. Never.
She paused again to cough.
Girl: Maybe I should ask someone if I can stick around their place for a while. Heh…that’s like asking a homicidal maniac to slit my throat.
The girl coughed and walked toward the street. Just as she was about to cross, a siren blared into her ears. She shrieked, biting her cigarette in half and swallowing one-half, and jumped back just in time to see a toad on a motorcycle, shouting “Tally-ho,” pass by, followed by a black van roaring through. The girl gave a retched cough and threw up the cigarette. Wheezing, she stared down the street with wide eyes.
Girl: Was that…a toon on a motorcycle…? A toon…Oh crap, my cigarette!
The girl prodded the wasted cigarette half with the toe of her boot. She dug into her breast pocket again and pulled out her remaining cigarettes.
Girl: Shoot…Only three left…Give me a break, God…!
She stuffed the cigarettes back into her breast pocket and, looking both ways this time, crossed the street. The girl walked toward a mob of people and tried to get their attention.
Girl: Excuse me…Hey, can you help…I need a place…You there…Sir, Miss…Aw, come on…
Unsuccessful, the girl sat down at the edge of the sidewalk and let out a deep sigh.
Girl: This isn’t going to be easy…
She slowly took the two bags off her shoulder and held a huge, black case.
Girl: I wonder if I can make money by playing my guitar on the block or something like those street bums.
She slowly looked up and stopped. She saw the black van that nearly ran her over earlier. Her pale blue eyes lit up.
Girl: Or maybe…Just maybe…
The girl slowly stood up, threw her bag and case over her shoulder, and walked across the street, toward the van. She walked around and examined every single detail of it. She gently kicks the tires.
Girl: It’s pretty weird-looking for a van. Is this supposed to be a police car or something? …Eh?
She noticed a label on the drivers-side door and reads it quietly to herself.
Girl: Toon…Patrol…?
A pair of swirling eyes were suddenly in front of the girl’s face. Startled, she jumps back – dropping her bag and case – and yelps.
Girl: What in the-?!
She trips over someone’s feet behind her. Looking up, she saw that the feet belonged to a toon – some sort of animal – holding a bat and wearing a beanie, a dumb expression on its face. The girl frantically scoots back and stands. As she turns to run, a puff of smoke hit her in the face and the girl, who had inhaled most of the smoke, began to cough.
The smoke came from a cigarette that another animalish-toon was smoking. The “fur” was blue and smelled strongly of cigarettes. The toon, wheezing, let out a loud, short cough. The girl, still coughing, turned the other way and bumped into a fourth toon. This one had dark brown fur, but was covered with a green zoot suit, pants and hat. The toon wore a large pair of white pointy shoes. It shouted something in a foreign language at the girl, clearly annoyed by her presence. The girl tried to circle around the toon, and ran right into the last of the toons. This one was short – about her size - this time wearing a pink suit with a pink tie that had a diamond placed on it. A large hat covered the top of his head, shielding his eyes. He sneered at her and pointed a gun at her face.
Pink toon: What’re ya doin’ wit our van, huh? Tinkin’ of stealin’ it?
The toon with the swirling eyes – the girl noticed that it wore a straight jacket and had wacky, spiky hair – laughed in a comical, yet psychotic way.
Girl: N-n-no, sir, or toon. Whatever. I was just, uh, looking at it. You see, you nearly ran me over a few minutes ago while you were chasing that toad-
Pink toon: You saw where he went?!
Green toon: Where’d he go?!
Girl: Uh…recently, or back there?
Pink & Green toon: Recently.
Pink toon: Shaddup, I’m talkin’ here!
Green toon: Sorry, boss.
Girl: Um…no.
The pink toon didn’t seem pleased. He placed the gun at the girl’s nose and smiled maliciously.
Pink toon: Well, then…leave.
Smoking toon: *wheezing* Yeah.
Girl: What, just leave? Don’t I at least get to make a request?
Pink toon: Request, shmequest. Not interested.
Girl: Hear me out, okay? I’m new here and I’ve got no money to afford a place to stay.
Pink toon: *yawns* I really don’t wanna hear your sad story.
Baseball bat toon: Duh, I like stories, especially a bedtime story.
The pink toon turned to glare at the toon. Baseball bat toon threw his hands up to cover his face, as if to hide himself, or was it to protect himself from an attack? The girl wasn’t sure. The pink toon looked back at the girl.
Pink toon: Whaddya tryin’ to appoint us?
Girl: It’s a strange request, but since I have nowhere to go, would you mind me boarding with you guys until I can afford a place of my own?
The toons stared at her in complete silence. The girl jumped when they suddenly broke into a fit of laughter.
Green toon: Do you have any idea who you’re talking to, little girl?!
Smoking toon: *coughing & laughing* Yeah!
After a few minutes of nonstop laughter, the toons calmed down. The pink toon straightened himself as if to make himself taller. Probably to show authority, thought the girl.
Pink toon: We’re the Toon Patrol, the police of Toon Town! We’re feared by everyone presiding in Los Angeles! No one dares to mess with us!
Girl: Holy firecrackers, I’m so scared. Look, I’m pretty much desperate at the moment, so I really don’t care about your whole “high and mighty” crap.
Green toon: Desperate enough to ask us?
The swirly eyed toon took out a straight razor and pointed it excitedly at the girl.
Crazy toon: Can I kill her, boss?? Huh?? HUH?? Hee…hee-hee!
Pink toon: (to the toon) Hmm…I could consider it. Eh, not now. (to the girl) Look, lil’ pest, we don’t need humans, much less little girls, stayin’ with us. It’ll crush our reputation. Kapeesh?
Girl: Alright, pinky, how about I make you a deal? I’ll cook and clean for you guys in exchange for a room…and my life. I would like to live ‘till I'm at least an old geezer. *mimicking the pink toon* Kapeesh?
The toons looked at each, then doubled over with laughter. They pounded their fists and kicked their feet onto the concrete. The baseball bat toon held his stomach and rolled back in forth. A minutes later, the pink toon stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. He looked back at his companions, who took that as a signal to stop. Using what will power they could gain back, they stopped laughing and stood next to their leader.
Pink toon: No can do, Snow White. Now scat, we’ve had enough laughter already.
Girl: But you didn’t even think-
Pink toon: I said scat!!
They turned their backs on the girl and walked toward their van. The pink, green and smoking toon took the front while the crazy and baseball bat toon went to the back. The pink toon sat at the driver’s side and inserted the keys.
Girl: Fine!! Pleasure to be of service!!
The van came to life with a loud roar and began to drive off of the sidewalk. Shoot…What am I supposed to do now, thought the girl. She dug her hands into her pocket and pulled out a switchblade. She flicked the blade out and, with careful aim, threw it at the van. It hit one of the back tires. There was a loud ‘pop’ and the van came to a halt. People nearby stopped to look where the sound came from and to see what was to happen. Everyone waited.
The driver’s side door threw itself open and the pink toon leaped out in a fury. He looked at the girl and, with a loud growl, ran towards her. While running, he dug into his suit and pulled out his own switchblade. The other toons peeked out of the van and saw what their leader was doing. The toon stopped right in front of the girl and thrust his blade in front of her face. He breathed heavily. He looked her viciously in the eyes, fire burning in his own. The girl stood very still and looked at him calmly. The toon’s companions joined behind him.
Green toon: Boss, hey, boss? Not in front of everybody.
Smoking toon: Stupid move, boss.
The pink toon stole a quick glance at his companions. He used his switchblade to caress the girl’s cheek and to play with her bangs. He sneered at her.
Pink toon: (very softly and menacingly) You’re darn lucky that we’re in broad daylight, you lil’ brat. I would have enjoyed cutting that pretty face of yours. What the Monkey’s Uncle do you want from us?
Girl: Just a place to stay. You’ve got 3 more tires, y’know.
The pink toon looked back at his companions. Then, he placed his switchblade back into his suit and formed a huddle with the others. The girl could recall only a few small details of their conversation.
Green toon: We’ve got dust everywhere, now that she mentions it…
Smoking toon: And we don’t always get food…
Baseball bat toon: Duh, I like food…
Crazy toon: I like that neck of her. All that blood…Hee-hee-hee!
They broke up their huddle a few minutes later. The pink toon approached the girl.
Pink toon: Alright, ya brat, you’ve got yourself a deal. But, if ya snoop around…
The toons placed a finger to their throats and glided it across, making a horrible sound in their throats.
Girl: Gotcha.
The girl held out her hand.
Girl: My name’s Samantha, but I prefer that everyone call me Sam.
The pink toon stared at her hand and frowned.
Pink toon: The name’s Smart Guy.
Sam hid the fit of giggles that were rising from her throat.
Green toon: I’m Greasy.
Sam: That explains your suit…and your hair.
Smoking toon: *wheezing* Wheezy. *cough*
Sam: Thought it’d be ‘Smokey,’ but I guess that works.
The crazy toon placed his hands on his head, possibly because of shyness.
Crazy toon: Psycho.
Sam: O-kay. Won’t ask.
Greasy: *points at Baseball bat toon* And that one’s Stupid.
Stupid: Huh?
Sam: Me so pleezed to sees yous.
Smart Guy: Shaddup, ya lil’ pest.
Sam: That’s no way to talk to a lady, Smart PINK FATTY Guy.
The toons, except for Smart Guy himself, burt out laughing.
Smart Guy: Stop that laughing! Remember what I said about laughing?!
Sam: Hey, I think it’s funny.
Smart Guy: Well, I don’t!
Smart Guy went up to his companions and smacked each of them hard across the face.
Smart Guy: Stop laughing!!
Just as soon as they started, they stopped.
Sam: Yeesh. That was mean.
Smart Guy: Shaddup and get in the van.
Sam walked over to the van. She stopped where the flat tire was, bent down, and plucked her switchblade out of it. She turned to look at Smart Guy and smiled smugly at him, waving her knife in the air, and then placed it back into her pocket. She opened the driver’s door, when Smart Guy pushed her out of the way and slammed the door shut.
Smart Guy: You’re goin’ in the back.
Sam: Excuse me?
Smart Guy: Need I reassure myself? I said back.
Sam opened her mouth to argue, but Smart Guy dug into his suit to pull out one of his weapons. She had not choice. Grumbling, Sam walked to the back and climbed into the van. Wheezy scrambled in to grab a spare tire that Sam was sitting on.
Wheezy: Move it!
Just as Smart Guy had done, Wheezy shoved her aside and carried the tire out. Sam silently cursed under her breath as she lay on the floor. Despite the doors being open, it was stuffy inside. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She wished to have a drink of water, but she doubted that the toons would offer her any. Greasy stood outside the back of the van and sneered at her.
Greasy: Hey, Estupida! You left your bags behind!
He threw them at Sam. Her guitar case smacked her on the head and hit the floor, an agonizing scream coming from inside the case that would make any musician cry. Greasy, still sneering, gave a small bow.
Greasy: De nada, Princess.
He laughed as he disappeared from Sam’s view. Sam rubbed her head and cursed under her breath once more. She had a feeling that she had made both a good and bad decision when it came to finding a roommate, or in this case, roommates, especially if they were murderous toons. I have to choose better folks to make deals with, she thought. That is, if I live long enough to make another deal.
There was much activity going on outside of the van, as the toons were replacing the flat tire with a spare. Smart Guy was shouting orders to his comrades. At one point there was a squeal, laughter, a loud ‘bonk’ sound, and then silence. After what seemed like thirty minutes, as Sam was checking the contents in her bag, Psycho and Stupid climbed in and slammed the doors shut. The van was covered in darkness. Sam heard more slamming doors and the roar of the engine. Sam felt something jump on her back and squeeze her. She yelped and threw her arms into the air, hoping to grab at whoever was attacking her. Her fingers closed onto something rubbery, but she could also make out spikes. Psycho giggled into her ear.
Psycho: I’d hang on for dear life if IIIII were youuuu!
Sam: Why?
Stupid: Duh, boss is a scary driver.
Sam: What do you mean-
The van moved off the curb in jerky, fast motions, and Sam was thrown backwards. The impact left her in shock. She tried to stand, but a sudden turn to the left threw her off her feet. She flattened her body in hopes that she would stick to the floor. A hard turn to the right caused Sam to skid across the opposite direction. Psycho was giggling somewhere in the dark. Stupid was whimpering. Sam felt like her heart was rising to her throat. There was a strong, fumy smell inside with them. It was horrible. Sam wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what it was. She only wanted to know when they were close to “home” so she could get off of this crazy roller coaster ride. Before Sam could prepare for it, the van came to a stop, and she flew in the air. She crashed into something that felt like metal, but some sort of liquid substance was in it. It fell down and, to Sam’s horror, slightly rolled on top of her. The pressure released all the air that her lungs held. She frantically started to move her body from side to side, trying to slip out of whatever was crushing her.
Light entered inside the van, and Sam saw Smart Guy grinning at her. He snapped his fingers, and Stupid removed the object that was on top of her. Sam shot a glance behind her and saw that the object was a large tin barrel that was labeled “WARNING: TOXIC.” So that’s where the smell was coming from, she thought. But what deadly toxin was inside it? She heard Smart Guy chuckling to himself.
Smart Guy: Did you enjoy the ride, brat?
Sam glared at him. She wanted to yell and scream at him. He could have killed her! Perhaps, that was his plan all along.
Sam: You’re going to need more than awful driving skills to kill me, you dumb dog.
Smart Guy shot her an evil look, and then he snorted.
Smart Guy: We’re not dogs, stupid brat. We’re weasels!
Weasels? Toon weasels? Great, this is going to be a blast.
Sam: Whatever. Just take me inside and show me where my room will be.
END CH.1
NOTES: Yeah, I tried to copy Smart Guy's speech pattern. It's awful. *laughs*
Anyone like how I added that human characteristic to Sam's guitar? Really, have you ever dropped a guitar or any kind of instrument? It brings a tear to your eye. ='(
EDIT: Thanks to Psychos Biggest Fan for correcting me on my Spanish. I only know English and German, so I took a guess with Spanish. I should be severly punished for that.
I dunno when I'll have chapter two up, so just keep checking for updates. Also make sure to look at "Orphan Updates" on the Ideas and Comments for any important information that I may post about upcoming chapters or events. If you have any questions, advice or concerns, please notify me through a note. Otherwise, please be sure to comment!
I do not own the rights to any of the WFRR characters. Sam, as well as some others along the way, belong to me.
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Orphan
Chapter One
It was a hot summer day on June 1, 1947. So hot, an egg could be cooked on the ground. So hot, the amount of water in people could evaporate and leave a skeleton to tap dance in the abyss of nowhere. So hot…well, it’s hot.
- But wait -
A small, ragged stranger is trekking across the bare land, only a mere stick supporting this stranger. The small one stumbles. The stranger slowly rises back up and, along with the stick, moves on. It has two bags, one being a guitar case, riding on its back. A worn piece of cloth hangs on top of the stranger’s head, covering the face, as if the stranger’s face bared a hideous secret. The stranger takes out a flask, unscrews the lid, and brings it to his or her lips. No water comes out. The stranger lifts the flask far from the mouth and shakes it, but the flask is as dry as the ground itself. The stranger curses and puts the flask back into its pocket. Our stranger’s journey continues.
By mid-afternoon, with the sun a quarter to the west, the stranger stops to observe a sign: ‘Welcome to Los Angeles, California, City of Angels.’ The stranger grunts and croaks, “You’re my angel, all right.” The stranger removes the cloth dangling uselessly over its head and reveals our stranger to be a young, undeveloped girl, about twelve years of age, with very pale skin, unruly black hair, and the most startling light blue eyes. She was panting and her face was flushed, sweat glistening on her forehead. She placed a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun and stared longingly at the sign once more.
Girl: I made it. I can’t believe it, but I made it. I’m finally here…
The girl puts on a strained, crooked smile, walked past the sign and into the city of Los Angeles.
Los Angeles was a city like any other, except maybe a bit more glamorous. The streets were crowded. There was so much noise and rich smells. Large buildings loomed over the land. All this had caught the young girl’s attention. A Red Car passed by, and the driver waved to her. The girl gave a slight wave of her hand and half-smiled in a friendly manner.
Girl: Los Angeles is a neat place so far. It’s got warm, sunny weather, friendly people, and nice…texture. These Red Cars I’ve heard about are also pretty neat. I think they were called, what, “the best transportation around L.A.?”
The Girl gave a slight nod and dug her hands into her pockets. She pulled out a lumpy, molding wallet.
Girl: Now, how much money do I have left?
The Girl opened her wallet and found twenty-five cents. There was a slight pause as the girl stared dumbfounded at her wallet. She pulled out the twenty-five cents and placed them on the palm of her hand. She stared some more, as if waiting for the coins to magically turn into bills.
Girl: …Two bits? That’s it? But that-that can’t be all that’s left…That’s enough for a hair cut, but not enough for an apartment…How-
Realization suddenly dawned on the young girl’s face. She thought back for a moment.
Girl: The man with the tickets…
The girl threw her fists into the air and shrieked in a rage.
Girl: That jerk ripped me off!! That rotten, bloody, no-good mother-
She paused and looked around. People had stopped their afternoon stroll to stare at the young girl throwing a tantrum. The girl brainstormed in her head and suddenly placed a hand behind her head and forced a laugh.
Girl: Don’t mind me, folks! I’m just, uh, practicing my audition for a play! Yeah! It’s extreme, yes, so I have to practice every now and then, wherever I may be!
She forced another laugh. The crowd shook their heads and continued their daily activity. As soon as the attention was focused away from her, the girl sighed.
Girl: This sucks. I don’t have any money…and I bet that guy back in Utah is enjoying himself to a bottle of tequila, the con artist.
The girl dug into her breast pocket on her torn coat and pulled out a cigarette and matches. She took out a match, lit it, placed it on her cigarette, and brought the cigarette to her lips. She took a deep breath and blew out smoke.
Girl: I shouldn’t have bought all of that food, either. It was all taken by animals, anyway.
She paused as she puffed out smoke.
Girl: Maybe I should camp out on the streets ‘till I can get a job. Then again, it’s dirty and dangerous, but…maybe…
She clenched her fists.
Girl: No. I’m not going to no stinkin’ shelter. Never.
She paused again to cough.
Girl: Maybe I should ask someone if I can stick around their place for a while. Heh…that’s like asking a homicidal maniac to slit my throat.
The girl coughed and walked toward the street. Just as she was about to cross, a siren blared into her ears. She shrieked, biting her cigarette in half and swallowing one-half, and jumped back just in time to see a toad on a motorcycle, shouting “Tally-ho,” pass by, followed by a black van roaring through. The girl gave a retched cough and threw up the cigarette. Wheezing, she stared down the street with wide eyes.
Girl: Was that…a toon on a motorcycle…? A toon…Oh crap, my cigarette!
The girl prodded the wasted cigarette half with the toe of her boot. She dug into her breast pocket again and pulled out her remaining cigarettes.
Girl: Shoot…Only three left…Give me a break, God…!
She stuffed the cigarettes back into her breast pocket and, looking both ways this time, crossed the street. The girl walked toward a mob of people and tried to get their attention.
Girl: Excuse me…Hey, can you help…I need a place…You there…Sir, Miss…Aw, come on…
Unsuccessful, the girl sat down at the edge of the sidewalk and let out a deep sigh.
Girl: This isn’t going to be easy…
She slowly took the two bags off her shoulder and held a huge, black case.
Girl: I wonder if I can make money by playing my guitar on the block or something like those street bums.
She slowly looked up and stopped. She saw the black van that nearly ran her over earlier. Her pale blue eyes lit up.
Girl: Or maybe…Just maybe…
The girl slowly stood up, threw her bag and case over her shoulder, and walked across the street, toward the van. She walked around and examined every single detail of it. She gently kicks the tires.
Girl: It’s pretty weird-looking for a van. Is this supposed to be a police car or something? …Eh?
She noticed a label on the drivers-side door and reads it quietly to herself.
Girl: Toon…Patrol…?
A pair of swirling eyes were suddenly in front of the girl’s face. Startled, she jumps back – dropping her bag and case – and yelps.
Girl: What in the-?!
She trips over someone’s feet behind her. Looking up, she saw that the feet belonged to a toon – some sort of animal – holding a bat and wearing a beanie, a dumb expression on its face. The girl frantically scoots back and stands. As she turns to run, a puff of smoke hit her in the face and the girl, who had inhaled most of the smoke, began to cough.
The smoke came from a cigarette that another animalish-toon was smoking. The “fur” was blue and smelled strongly of cigarettes. The toon, wheezing, let out a loud, short cough. The girl, still coughing, turned the other way and bumped into a fourth toon. This one had dark brown fur, but was covered with a green zoot suit, pants and hat. The toon wore a large pair of white pointy shoes. It shouted something in a foreign language at the girl, clearly annoyed by her presence. The girl tried to circle around the toon, and ran right into the last of the toons. This one was short – about her size - this time wearing a pink suit with a pink tie that had a diamond placed on it. A large hat covered the top of his head, shielding his eyes. He sneered at her and pointed a gun at her face.
Pink toon: What’re ya doin’ wit our van, huh? Tinkin’ of stealin’ it?
The toon with the swirling eyes – the girl noticed that it wore a straight jacket and had wacky, spiky hair – laughed in a comical, yet psychotic way.
Girl: N-n-no, sir, or toon. Whatever. I was just, uh, looking at it. You see, you nearly ran me over a few minutes ago while you were chasing that toad-
Pink toon: You saw where he went?!
Green toon: Where’d he go?!
Girl: Uh…recently, or back there?
Pink & Green toon: Recently.
Pink toon: Shaddup, I’m talkin’ here!
Green toon: Sorry, boss.
Girl: Um…no.
The pink toon didn’t seem pleased. He placed the gun at the girl’s nose and smiled maliciously.
Pink toon: Well, then…leave.
Smoking toon: *wheezing* Yeah.
Girl: What, just leave? Don’t I at least get to make a request?
Pink toon: Request, shmequest. Not interested.
Girl: Hear me out, okay? I’m new here and I’ve got no money to afford a place to stay.
Pink toon: *yawns* I really don’t wanna hear your sad story.
Baseball bat toon: Duh, I like stories, especially a bedtime story.
The pink toon turned to glare at the toon. Baseball bat toon threw his hands up to cover his face, as if to hide himself, or was it to protect himself from an attack? The girl wasn’t sure. The pink toon looked back at the girl.
Pink toon: Whaddya tryin’ to appoint us?
Girl: It’s a strange request, but since I have nowhere to go, would you mind me boarding with you guys until I can afford a place of my own?
The toons stared at her in complete silence. The girl jumped when they suddenly broke into a fit of laughter.
Green toon: Do you have any idea who you’re talking to, little girl?!
Smoking toon: *coughing & laughing* Yeah!
After a few minutes of nonstop laughter, the toons calmed down. The pink toon straightened himself as if to make himself taller. Probably to show authority, thought the girl.
Pink toon: We’re the Toon Patrol, the police of Toon Town! We’re feared by everyone presiding in Los Angeles! No one dares to mess with us!
Girl: Holy firecrackers, I’m so scared. Look, I’m pretty much desperate at the moment, so I really don’t care about your whole “high and mighty” crap.
Green toon: Desperate enough to ask us?
The swirly eyed toon took out a straight razor and pointed it excitedly at the girl.
Crazy toon: Can I kill her, boss?? Huh?? HUH?? Hee…hee-hee!
Pink toon: (to the toon) Hmm…I could consider it. Eh, not now. (to the girl) Look, lil’ pest, we don’t need humans, much less little girls, stayin’ with us. It’ll crush our reputation. Kapeesh?
Girl: Alright, pinky, how about I make you a deal? I’ll cook and clean for you guys in exchange for a room…and my life. I would like to live ‘till I'm at least an old geezer. *mimicking the pink toon* Kapeesh?
The toons looked at each, then doubled over with laughter. They pounded their fists and kicked their feet onto the concrete. The baseball bat toon held his stomach and rolled back in forth. A minutes later, the pink toon stood up, wiping tears from his eyes. He looked back at his companions, who took that as a signal to stop. Using what will power they could gain back, they stopped laughing and stood next to their leader.
Pink toon: No can do, Snow White. Now scat, we’ve had enough laughter already.
Girl: But you didn’t even think-
Pink toon: I said scat!!
They turned their backs on the girl and walked toward their van. The pink, green and smoking toon took the front while the crazy and baseball bat toon went to the back. The pink toon sat at the driver’s side and inserted the keys.
Girl: Fine!! Pleasure to be of service!!
The van came to life with a loud roar and began to drive off of the sidewalk. Shoot…What am I supposed to do now, thought the girl. She dug her hands into her pocket and pulled out a switchblade. She flicked the blade out and, with careful aim, threw it at the van. It hit one of the back tires. There was a loud ‘pop’ and the van came to a halt. People nearby stopped to look where the sound came from and to see what was to happen. Everyone waited.
The driver’s side door threw itself open and the pink toon leaped out in a fury. He looked at the girl and, with a loud growl, ran towards her. While running, he dug into his suit and pulled out his own switchblade. The other toons peeked out of the van and saw what their leader was doing. The toon stopped right in front of the girl and thrust his blade in front of her face. He breathed heavily. He looked her viciously in the eyes, fire burning in his own. The girl stood very still and looked at him calmly. The toon’s companions joined behind him.
Green toon: Boss, hey, boss? Not in front of everybody.
Smoking toon: Stupid move, boss.
The pink toon stole a quick glance at his companions. He used his switchblade to caress the girl’s cheek and to play with her bangs. He sneered at her.
Pink toon: (very softly and menacingly) You’re darn lucky that we’re in broad daylight, you lil’ brat. I would have enjoyed cutting that pretty face of yours. What the Monkey’s Uncle do you want from us?
Girl: Just a place to stay. You’ve got 3 more tires, y’know.
The pink toon looked back at his companions. Then, he placed his switchblade back into his suit and formed a huddle with the others. The girl could recall only a few small details of their conversation.
Green toon: We’ve got dust everywhere, now that she mentions it…
Smoking toon: And we don’t always get food…
Baseball bat toon: Duh, I like food…
Crazy toon: I like that neck of her. All that blood…Hee-hee-hee!
They broke up their huddle a few minutes later. The pink toon approached the girl.
Pink toon: Alright, ya brat, you’ve got yourself a deal. But, if ya snoop around…
The toons placed a finger to their throats and glided it across, making a horrible sound in their throats.
Girl: Gotcha.
The girl held out her hand.
Girl: My name’s Samantha, but I prefer that everyone call me Sam.
The pink toon stared at her hand and frowned.
Pink toon: The name’s Smart Guy.
Sam hid the fit of giggles that were rising from her throat.
Green toon: I’m Greasy.
Sam: That explains your suit…and your hair.
Smoking toon: *wheezing* Wheezy. *cough*
Sam: Thought it’d be ‘Smokey,’ but I guess that works.
The crazy toon placed his hands on his head, possibly because of shyness.
Crazy toon: Psycho.
Sam: O-kay. Won’t ask.
Greasy: *points at Baseball bat toon* And that one’s Stupid.
Stupid: Huh?
Sam: Me so pleezed to sees yous.
Smart Guy: Shaddup, ya lil’ pest.
Sam: That’s no way to talk to a lady, Smart PINK FATTY Guy.
The toons, except for Smart Guy himself, burt out laughing.
Smart Guy: Stop that laughing! Remember what I said about laughing?!
Sam: Hey, I think it’s funny.
Smart Guy: Well, I don’t!
Smart Guy went up to his companions and smacked each of them hard across the face.
Smart Guy: Stop laughing!!
Just as soon as they started, they stopped.
Sam: Yeesh. That was mean.
Smart Guy: Shaddup and get in the van.
Sam walked over to the van. She stopped where the flat tire was, bent down, and plucked her switchblade out of it. She turned to look at Smart Guy and smiled smugly at him, waving her knife in the air, and then placed it back into her pocket. She opened the driver’s door, when Smart Guy pushed her out of the way and slammed the door shut.
Smart Guy: You’re goin’ in the back.
Sam: Excuse me?
Smart Guy: Need I reassure myself? I said back.
Sam opened her mouth to argue, but Smart Guy dug into his suit to pull out one of his weapons. She had not choice. Grumbling, Sam walked to the back and climbed into the van. Wheezy scrambled in to grab a spare tire that Sam was sitting on.
Wheezy: Move it!
Just as Smart Guy had done, Wheezy shoved her aside and carried the tire out. Sam silently cursed under her breath as she lay on the floor. Despite the doors being open, it was stuffy inside. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She wished to have a drink of water, but she doubted that the toons would offer her any. Greasy stood outside the back of the van and sneered at her.
Greasy: Hey, Estupida! You left your bags behind!
He threw them at Sam. Her guitar case smacked her on the head and hit the floor, an agonizing scream coming from inside the case that would make any musician cry. Greasy, still sneering, gave a small bow.
Greasy: De nada, Princess.
He laughed as he disappeared from Sam’s view. Sam rubbed her head and cursed under her breath once more. She had a feeling that she had made both a good and bad decision when it came to finding a roommate, or in this case, roommates, especially if they were murderous toons. I have to choose better folks to make deals with, she thought. That is, if I live long enough to make another deal.
There was much activity going on outside of the van, as the toons were replacing the flat tire with a spare. Smart Guy was shouting orders to his comrades. At one point there was a squeal, laughter, a loud ‘bonk’ sound, and then silence. After what seemed like thirty minutes, as Sam was checking the contents in her bag, Psycho and Stupid climbed in and slammed the doors shut. The van was covered in darkness. Sam heard more slamming doors and the roar of the engine. Sam felt something jump on her back and squeeze her. She yelped and threw her arms into the air, hoping to grab at whoever was attacking her. Her fingers closed onto something rubbery, but she could also make out spikes. Psycho giggled into her ear.
Psycho: I’d hang on for dear life if IIIII were youuuu!
Sam: Why?
Stupid: Duh, boss is a scary driver.
Sam: What do you mean-
The van moved off the curb in jerky, fast motions, and Sam was thrown backwards. The impact left her in shock. She tried to stand, but a sudden turn to the left threw her off her feet. She flattened her body in hopes that she would stick to the floor. A hard turn to the right caused Sam to skid across the opposite direction. Psycho was giggling somewhere in the dark. Stupid was whimpering. Sam felt like her heart was rising to her throat. There was a strong, fumy smell inside with them. It was horrible. Sam wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what it was. She only wanted to know when they were close to “home” so she could get off of this crazy roller coaster ride. Before Sam could prepare for it, the van came to a stop, and she flew in the air. She crashed into something that felt like metal, but some sort of liquid substance was in it. It fell down and, to Sam’s horror, slightly rolled on top of her. The pressure released all the air that her lungs held. She frantically started to move her body from side to side, trying to slip out of whatever was crushing her.
Light entered inside the van, and Sam saw Smart Guy grinning at her. He snapped his fingers, and Stupid removed the object that was on top of her. Sam shot a glance behind her and saw that the object was a large tin barrel that was labeled “WARNING: TOXIC.” So that’s where the smell was coming from, she thought. But what deadly toxin was inside it? She heard Smart Guy chuckling to himself.
Smart Guy: Did you enjoy the ride, brat?
Sam glared at him. She wanted to yell and scream at him. He could have killed her! Perhaps, that was his plan all along.
Sam: You’re going to need more than awful driving skills to kill me, you dumb dog.
Smart Guy shot her an evil look, and then he snorted.
Smart Guy: We’re not dogs, stupid brat. We’re weasels!
Weasels? Toon weasels? Great, this is going to be a blast.
Sam: Whatever. Just take me inside and show me where my room will be.
END CH.1
NOTES: Yeah, I tried to copy Smart Guy's speech pattern. It's awful. *laughs*
Anyone like how I added that human characteristic to Sam's guitar? Really, have you ever dropped a guitar or any kind of instrument? It brings a tear to your eye. ='(
EDIT: Thanks to Psychos Biggest Fan for correcting me on my Spanish. I only know English and German, so I took a guess with Spanish. I should be severly punished for that.
wowza, thats alot!