Post by 1940svintage on Aug 28, 2015 12:13:43 GMT -5
(To start off, I re-inserted several of the deleted scenes, because I felt they belonged back in the story as a whole. Secondly, the Great-Uncle George and his wife, Margaret mentioned in the story actually existed. I'm related to him through Margaret, who was my maternal great aunt. You can read all about him here: name/nm0470685/ )
No Toons were harmed in the writing of this story.
Here goes nothing:
I remember that it was Thursday, August 14th, 1947. But before you interrupt me asking how that's possible, hear me out.
The ranch house in Thousand Oaks, California was light and airy. All clean lines and open spaces, with a design reminiscent of the late Art Deco period. It was one story, with a formal and an informal living room. I sat in the formal living room on a shiny cream leather sofa, nervously facing my great uncle.
Of course, he didn't know he was my great uncle- yet. That was a big part of the reason I sought him out. He was a formidable looking man about 6 feet tall, with a receding hairline, but there was a slight twinkle in his eye that softened his demeanor. Wearing a lightweight grey suit with broad, peaked lapels that went quite well with a pastel blue shirt and silvery grey Art Deco tie, he was the picture of a successful artist and animator.
Of course, this was a first impression. I never knew him in my own time; he died a decade before I was born. My mom knew him better, and would probably be appalled at my first impression of her uncle, but I was incredible nervous, and a little bit intimidated.
I was nervous because he, George Kreisl, was probably the only person who'd take me seriously enough to help me get home.
"You're my only hope to get home, Mr. Kreisl. Without your help, I might as well kiss my home goodbye. Can you help me," I begged, "Please?"
He gulped, slightly, and said, "Young man, if you really claim that I'm your only hope to get home, I'll try my hardest. What exactly is the problem?"
"This is a bit of a whopper. I think you might just lock me up in the local nuthouse," I said, with a small, apologetic smile.
"I work with cartoons for a living. I go home and have hallucinations half the time. I don't think you could say anything that can shock me."
"I don't really know where to start," I said, shifting in my seat uncomfortably, "Nothing is quite right to explain what happened to me – and don't get me wrong, this has to do with you, too. Indirectly, of course…."
"Go on," he said. I continued, "This may sound like something out of 'Ripley's Believe it or Not', but I….. somehow I was thrust backward in time thanks to a pair of spats." I noticed his eyes narrowing so I quickly continued," T-the…er… the spats were in an old suitcase I found. There were things from your house. H-here, " I said, sweeping my arm around the elegantly furnished formal living room, "This.. house…."
He said nothing, so I said, "This next bit will be harder to swallow: I'm your great nephew. Your wife's little brother is my maternal grandfather. I know Pop-pop…I mean..Rudy.. is only 8 years old now, but look carefully, " I said, slowly taking off my glasses, "Can you see any family resemblance?"
He said, slowly, considering it, "I see a resemblance. But do you have any proof? How do I know you're not a lunatic? Not that I truly think you're a lunatic! I'd just like some proof that you are who you say you are." He furrowed his brow.
Suddenly, I remembered my learner's permit, and I fished out my wallet. Handing it to him, I said, "Here, look. It says my name, address, date of birth. All that stuff. If this isn't proof, than I don't know what is."
He was silent for a moment as he studied it. I was afraid he'd accuse me of faking it, but he said nothing. Handing it back to me, he said, "Well, you are who you say you are. I suppose you should start calling me Uncle George, then. Now, about those spats…. Do you have them with you? I think I might know the ones you mean."
Breathing a sigh of relief, I took them out of my pocket. They were a pair of gleaming white cartoon spats. Their real-life counterparts were used as a swanky accessory, meant to be worn over the shoes, from the 1800s to the late 1930s. Handing them to him, I was delighted to see a flash of recognition on his face.
He said, "I had a bad feeling you were talking about these spats. There was a good reason these were hidden among my old things."
My smile disappeared, "Don't look so downhearted," he said, "I can probably figure out what happened: you put the spats on, presumably as a finishing touch to your costume- am I right? I'm guessing that you people in 2015 don't dress like we do today," he said, looking over my grey double breasted suit and wool felt fedora. His gaze lingered, somewhat disapprovingly on my red candy-striped shirt and equally loud tie; red on one half, a line of dots with a white background on the other.
"That's pretty much it. I love vintage clothing. The styles of my day are comfortable and casual, but I love the look and feel of the 40s style," I said.
"And, "he continued, smiling, "You must have clicked your heels, like in 'The Wizard of Oz' and you wound up here. You must have, even if you didn't realize it. That's now the spats work."
"Yeah," I sheepishly admitted, "But it was an accident. If I knew I was going to be stuck here, I never would have clicked them!"
Uncle George chuckled, saying "I'm sure you didn't. But I'm guessing you tried to go back the same way you got here?"
"Yes," I said, "And it didn't work. And I'm guessing that you know why? Because if you do, that's what I came here to ask you. I mean, imagine my shock when, on top of realizing I was trapped in the past, I see a bunch of Loony Tunes characters walking down Sunset Boulevard! And why did I end up there? Why this date? Why-"
He cut me off, but gently, "Patience, my boy, patience. First, to understand the way these spats work, you'll have to understand about the way Toons are drawn to life."
I sat forward, eager to hear what he had to say.
"It's not as exciting as it sounds," he began, " New Toons are drawn almost every day. I forgot how they used to do it, but back about 10…12 years ago, they began using multiplane cameras to animate Toons. You insert the cel- animation cels. They're ink and paint sketches of scenes or characters drawn on transparent celluloid," he said, when he saw that I had no idea what he meant, "Anyway, you insert the cel drawing of the Toon, and the camera projects and animates it. They work by rotating layers of sketches, frame-by-frame to form a complete picture. Then, voice actors are used to give the Toon a voice, which sometimes has to be changed, as the sound starts to fade like an old record: hence the need for voice actors. Foley artists are also used to give the Toon unique sounds when he, she or it moves. "
He paused to take a breath, and continued, "They used some sort of a projector back before Disney's camera, I think, which is why the majority of cartoons back then were silent. But this was all before my time. My first characters were a group of about seven or so weasels for 'The Adventures of Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad". Now they've been made the top law enforcement agency in Toontown. They call themselves the Toon Patrol, or something like that. They're the henchmen…or, henchweasels, rather, for the Chief Justice of Toontown, Judge Doom." George continued, "Horrible man, if you ask me. Word was that he bought the election. It begs the question as to why such a cold and merciless man would want to be the presiding judge of a town of goofy characters. But they're the only type of police force there now. I'm not sure how the city could have made them into an official organization, considering they're gangsters with badges."
"Wait…back up for a second…you drew the Toon Patrol to life?" I stared at him, mouth nearly agape.
I could hardly believe my ears that George Kreisl would have anything to do with drawing those nasty weasels to life. In the film (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, that is) , there were five weasels: Smartass, Greasy, Wheezy, Stupid and Psycho.
Smartass wore a pink double breasted suit and fedora, and spoke in a classic New York accent, albeit a whiney one. Awful grammar, too. Constantly used malapropisms, such as "deformants" instead of "informants".
Greasy was the most lustful out of the weasels in the film. He spoke with a husky Spanish accent and wore an acid green zoot suit, with black and white spectator shoes. He usually carried around a switchblade.
Wheezy was dressed more like a card shark; rumpled white shirt, grey tie and vest, with a porkpie fedora. He was a chain smoker, often being seen with three in his mouth at once, and more tucked in various hiding spots on his person. He was an unusual blue-grey color, and his fur was nicotine stained.
Psycho had wild, spiky fur, and wore a loosened straightjacket. He has yellow and orange swirly eyes and carried a straight razor. He had a high, lilting voice, and giggled a lot.
Stupid was the dumb one. He had one long tooth that jutted out of his mouth, and wore a blue stripes shirt that rode up on his belly. On his head was a red and yellow beanie. He carried a baseball bat imbedded with a nail that he mainly used to whack himself over the head. On his feet were red untied sneakers.
The other two weasels that Uncle George mentioned could only be the two that were cut out of the film: Slimy and Flasher. Slimy looked more like a 1950s greaser, with an oily pompadour and a leather jacket open over his deep brown fur. Slime dripped from his nose, paws and feet, and possibly his mouth. Flasher wore a trench coat and a backwards baseball cap. You can guess why he was called Flasher. (In truth, he wasn't displaying anything: he did it for the shock value. But he had on a gaudy pair of boxers patterned with Valentine hearts). With the two ones cut out, the seven were whittled down to five in the film, but in the real world, their numbers were increased. Judge Doom and the Seven Weasels, I guess. That wouldn't make a very good Disney film, now would it?
"Yes, I drew the Toon Patrol to life." he said, "As a matter of fact; those spats belonged to the leader of the group. I don't recall his name."
"Smartass," I supplied, nodding my head slightly.
"That's his name!" he shouted, triumphantly, but said, confused, "How do you know that? I never labeled the spats. Are the weasels well known in your time?"
"Well, no," I began, "not for their work as law enforcement in Toontown. They were known for their role in a film called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit"."
"Roger Rabbit?" asked Uncle George, "You don't mean RK Maroon's star?"
"Yeah," I said, getting excited about the fact that my favorite movie was real, "That's exactly who I mean. They're the secondary villains in the film, and thanks to what you just told me, I now know that it actually happened. Or will happen, later today, based on today's date, and the date given in the film."
"Well," said Uncle George, "Whatever role they'll play in whoever framed Roger Rabbit, you'll have to know that I wasn't the one who named those weasels. Walt asked me to draw a group of tough-guy weasels for some last- minute touches on "Ichabod Crane and Mister Toad'. This was my first little tiff with Disney, because he had me draw them entirely new wardrobes! He and I had very different definitions of what a tough-guy Toon should look like. I drew them as gangsters, but Mr. Disney didn't want them to look like gangsters, so he asked me to draw some simple flat caps and raggedy shirts for them, like dockworkers, or something. They changed outfits as soon as we began filming."
"That's odd… I know for a fact that "Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad" was released in 1949. That's 8 years from when you say you worked on it," I pointed out.
"Yes…. Disney plans to release it in a few years. We would have released it after the filming was done, but it was delayed due to both the outbreak of the War, and a few other reasons."
"What other reasons?" I asked, curious to know.
"There was an….unfortunate accident on the stage next door to ours. They were wrapping up filming "Bambi", when the Toon playing the hunter- a rather ugly one named Baron VonRotten- was accidentally shocked by one of the multiplane cameras and, when he finally regained consciousness; he actually believed he was a villain! He went around the other sound stages wreaking all kinds of havoc, and disappeared into Toowntown shortly after that I don't know what's become of him."
"Oh…" I said. I knew instantly the Toon he meant, but I wasn't going to say anything. Not then, at least.
He continued, "I knew that the Weasels, also, would be trouble pretty soon after we were finished filming. But they can't help it. They were drawn that way, as villains." He sighed, and said, "At any rate, what you told me about where you ended up explains why Smartass left them with me. He just discarded them after filming was over. I see he found another pair to wear," he said, with a hint of distaste.
"So how do they work?"
"They're designed to return themselves to their original owner, where they live. You ended up right near the entrance of Toontown, though on this exact date, I don't know why. I don't think they'll go into Toontown. The physics in our world and in Toontown are enormously different, to say the least. Since they were drawn in the real world, but using the limited Toon physics that have a foothold here, they only worked partway, which was probably why the boss weasel discarded them."
"They were created here, so they only could take him as far as the entrance to Toontown. If I were to draw a new pair, and dedicate the drawing to you, the spats should, in theory, work for you and bring you back to almost exactly wherever it is you were…ah...zapped from." He chuckled a bit, But, I think, in all seriousness, I should be able to send you home within a week. If you like," he added, "I could make them work as a round trip, so you can come back here as often as you like."
I could hardly believe my ears. He found a way to send me home, almost straight away! And I could come back to my favorite decade if I wanted to?
"Thank you so much, Uncle George!" I felt like hugging him, but I figured that would be awkward, so I just grinned.
"It's really no problem," Uncle George said, "But, I'm not exactly sure when I can get the chance to do it. They have several new skits that need a new load of characters drawn to life. It may take a while. You can stay here if you like, until we can get you back to where you belong."
"Thank you! Oh, but…. First, I think I have a job to do," I said, thinking that I could very well get in on the action that the film was based on. No fan could possibly get to do what I was about to do!
But Uncle George misunderstood me."Well, there's an opening at the studio as a storage clerk, I think."
"Actually, Uncle George, I have another job in mind. Do you know the address for Valiant and Valiant, in LA?"
"The detective agency? Hold on. I think I have a business card somewhere," he said as he got up and retrieved his business card holder.
When he returned, he handed me a coffee-stained white card which read "Valiant and Valiant, Private Investigators." Below it, the address: "1130, South Hope Street, TEL: MAdion-3529".
"You can keep it," he said, "I have several others."
I said, barely able to contain my excitement as I put on my hat, "I think I'll head there right away!"
"Now wait a minute, just..wait! You don't mean you actually intend to interfere with this business- whatever it is- with Roger Rabbit and the Toon Patrol?"
I slowly began to sit down, "Yeah… why? Is there a problem?" But instantly, I saw there was a problem. A very big one.
"Well, for starters, Los Angeles nearly 40 miles away; an hour away from my house. And let's not even get started on the fact that Toontown has a dangerous underground. You could get hurt if you stick your nose in where it doesn't belong."
My smile began to fade. "I hitchhiked up here, and I could do the same on the way to LA… but you're right… I guess I was just excited, because the film that used whatever is going to happen in the next few days as its basis is my all-time favorite movie." Sheepishly, I grinned and took my hat off. George sat back in his chair, and said,
"Well, tell me what "all of this" is about. If this is as serious as you make it sound, Adam, I'm curious to hear about it."
So I told him, without going into too much detail, as I'm prone to doing, the entire plot of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" as simply as I could: "The film centers around alcoholic P.I, Eddie Valiant, who is hired by animator RK Maroon to take compromising pictures of RK's star Roger Rabbit's wife Jessica "playing patty cake"- literally, as it turns out- with Toontown's owner Marvin Acme. But things get screwy when Acme's will turns up missing and Judge Doom and the Toon Patrol start accusing Roger of murdering Acme. Eddie has to also try to save both the Red Car line of trolleys and Toontown from destruction by a company called Cloverleaf, find Acme's will and clear Roger's name. In the end, it's revealed that Doom owns Cloverleaf, and is behind it all, and wants to destroy Toontown and the Red Car line to build a massive highway. He's also a psychotic Toon in disguise, by the way. Based on what you've told me, it's all true, and is going to happen in the next three days!"
He looked like he was struck by lightning. "If this is all true, you must get involved! Toontown must be saved at all costs! It's already 10 am, so if you want to catch that Valiant man, you'll have to do it now. Come," he said, getting out of his chair. "I'll drive you there on my way to work."
No Toons were harmed in the writing of this story.
Here goes nothing:
I remember that it was Thursday, August 14th, 1947. But before you interrupt me asking how that's possible, hear me out.
The ranch house in Thousand Oaks, California was light and airy. All clean lines and open spaces, with a design reminiscent of the late Art Deco period. It was one story, with a formal and an informal living room. I sat in the formal living room on a shiny cream leather sofa, nervously facing my great uncle.
Of course, he didn't know he was my great uncle- yet. That was a big part of the reason I sought him out. He was a formidable looking man about 6 feet tall, with a receding hairline, but there was a slight twinkle in his eye that softened his demeanor. Wearing a lightweight grey suit with broad, peaked lapels that went quite well with a pastel blue shirt and silvery grey Art Deco tie, he was the picture of a successful artist and animator.
Of course, this was a first impression. I never knew him in my own time; he died a decade before I was born. My mom knew him better, and would probably be appalled at my first impression of her uncle, but I was incredible nervous, and a little bit intimidated.
I was nervous because he, George Kreisl, was probably the only person who'd take me seriously enough to help me get home.
"You're my only hope to get home, Mr. Kreisl. Without your help, I might as well kiss my home goodbye. Can you help me," I begged, "Please?"
He gulped, slightly, and said, "Young man, if you really claim that I'm your only hope to get home, I'll try my hardest. What exactly is the problem?"
"This is a bit of a whopper. I think you might just lock me up in the local nuthouse," I said, with a small, apologetic smile.
"I work with cartoons for a living. I go home and have hallucinations half the time. I don't think you could say anything that can shock me."
"I don't really know where to start," I said, shifting in my seat uncomfortably, "Nothing is quite right to explain what happened to me – and don't get me wrong, this has to do with you, too. Indirectly, of course…."
"Go on," he said. I continued, "This may sound like something out of 'Ripley's Believe it or Not', but I….. somehow I was thrust backward in time thanks to a pair of spats." I noticed his eyes narrowing so I quickly continued," T-the…er… the spats were in an old suitcase I found. There were things from your house. H-here, " I said, sweeping my arm around the elegantly furnished formal living room, "This.. house…."
He said nothing, so I said, "This next bit will be harder to swallow: I'm your great nephew. Your wife's little brother is my maternal grandfather. I know Pop-pop…I mean..Rudy.. is only 8 years old now, but look carefully, " I said, slowly taking off my glasses, "Can you see any family resemblance?"
He said, slowly, considering it, "I see a resemblance. But do you have any proof? How do I know you're not a lunatic? Not that I truly think you're a lunatic! I'd just like some proof that you are who you say you are." He furrowed his brow.
Suddenly, I remembered my learner's permit, and I fished out my wallet. Handing it to him, I said, "Here, look. It says my name, address, date of birth. All that stuff. If this isn't proof, than I don't know what is."
He was silent for a moment as he studied it. I was afraid he'd accuse me of faking it, but he said nothing. Handing it back to me, he said, "Well, you are who you say you are. I suppose you should start calling me Uncle George, then. Now, about those spats…. Do you have them with you? I think I might know the ones you mean."
Breathing a sigh of relief, I took them out of my pocket. They were a pair of gleaming white cartoon spats. Their real-life counterparts were used as a swanky accessory, meant to be worn over the shoes, from the 1800s to the late 1930s. Handing them to him, I was delighted to see a flash of recognition on his face.
He said, "I had a bad feeling you were talking about these spats. There was a good reason these were hidden among my old things."
My smile disappeared, "Don't look so downhearted," he said, "I can probably figure out what happened: you put the spats on, presumably as a finishing touch to your costume- am I right? I'm guessing that you people in 2015 don't dress like we do today," he said, looking over my grey double breasted suit and wool felt fedora. His gaze lingered, somewhat disapprovingly on my red candy-striped shirt and equally loud tie; red on one half, a line of dots with a white background on the other.
"That's pretty much it. I love vintage clothing. The styles of my day are comfortable and casual, but I love the look and feel of the 40s style," I said.
"And, "he continued, smiling, "You must have clicked your heels, like in 'The Wizard of Oz' and you wound up here. You must have, even if you didn't realize it. That's now the spats work."
"Yeah," I sheepishly admitted, "But it was an accident. If I knew I was going to be stuck here, I never would have clicked them!"
Uncle George chuckled, saying "I'm sure you didn't. But I'm guessing you tried to go back the same way you got here?"
"Yes," I said, "And it didn't work. And I'm guessing that you know why? Because if you do, that's what I came here to ask you. I mean, imagine my shock when, on top of realizing I was trapped in the past, I see a bunch of Loony Tunes characters walking down Sunset Boulevard! And why did I end up there? Why this date? Why-"
He cut me off, but gently, "Patience, my boy, patience. First, to understand the way these spats work, you'll have to understand about the way Toons are drawn to life."
I sat forward, eager to hear what he had to say.
"It's not as exciting as it sounds," he began, " New Toons are drawn almost every day. I forgot how they used to do it, but back about 10…12 years ago, they began using multiplane cameras to animate Toons. You insert the cel- animation cels. They're ink and paint sketches of scenes or characters drawn on transparent celluloid," he said, when he saw that I had no idea what he meant, "Anyway, you insert the cel drawing of the Toon, and the camera projects and animates it. They work by rotating layers of sketches, frame-by-frame to form a complete picture. Then, voice actors are used to give the Toon a voice, which sometimes has to be changed, as the sound starts to fade like an old record: hence the need for voice actors. Foley artists are also used to give the Toon unique sounds when he, she or it moves. "
He paused to take a breath, and continued, "They used some sort of a projector back before Disney's camera, I think, which is why the majority of cartoons back then were silent. But this was all before my time. My first characters were a group of about seven or so weasels for 'The Adventures of Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad". Now they've been made the top law enforcement agency in Toontown. They call themselves the Toon Patrol, or something like that. They're the henchmen…or, henchweasels, rather, for the Chief Justice of Toontown, Judge Doom." George continued, "Horrible man, if you ask me. Word was that he bought the election. It begs the question as to why such a cold and merciless man would want to be the presiding judge of a town of goofy characters. But they're the only type of police force there now. I'm not sure how the city could have made them into an official organization, considering they're gangsters with badges."
"Wait…back up for a second…you drew the Toon Patrol to life?" I stared at him, mouth nearly agape.
I could hardly believe my ears that George Kreisl would have anything to do with drawing those nasty weasels to life. In the film (Who Framed Roger Rabbit, that is) , there were five weasels: Smartass, Greasy, Wheezy, Stupid and Psycho.
Smartass wore a pink double breasted suit and fedora, and spoke in a classic New York accent, albeit a whiney one. Awful grammar, too. Constantly used malapropisms, such as "deformants" instead of "informants".
Greasy was the most lustful out of the weasels in the film. He spoke with a husky Spanish accent and wore an acid green zoot suit, with black and white spectator shoes. He usually carried around a switchblade.
Wheezy was dressed more like a card shark; rumpled white shirt, grey tie and vest, with a porkpie fedora. He was a chain smoker, often being seen with three in his mouth at once, and more tucked in various hiding spots on his person. He was an unusual blue-grey color, and his fur was nicotine stained.
Psycho had wild, spiky fur, and wore a loosened straightjacket. He has yellow and orange swirly eyes and carried a straight razor. He had a high, lilting voice, and giggled a lot.
Stupid was the dumb one. He had one long tooth that jutted out of his mouth, and wore a blue stripes shirt that rode up on his belly. On his head was a red and yellow beanie. He carried a baseball bat imbedded with a nail that he mainly used to whack himself over the head. On his feet were red untied sneakers.
The other two weasels that Uncle George mentioned could only be the two that were cut out of the film: Slimy and Flasher. Slimy looked more like a 1950s greaser, with an oily pompadour and a leather jacket open over his deep brown fur. Slime dripped from his nose, paws and feet, and possibly his mouth. Flasher wore a trench coat and a backwards baseball cap. You can guess why he was called Flasher. (In truth, he wasn't displaying anything: he did it for the shock value. But he had on a gaudy pair of boxers patterned with Valentine hearts). With the two ones cut out, the seven were whittled down to five in the film, but in the real world, their numbers were increased. Judge Doom and the Seven Weasels, I guess. That wouldn't make a very good Disney film, now would it?
"Yes, I drew the Toon Patrol to life." he said, "As a matter of fact; those spats belonged to the leader of the group. I don't recall his name."
"Smartass," I supplied, nodding my head slightly.
"That's his name!" he shouted, triumphantly, but said, confused, "How do you know that? I never labeled the spats. Are the weasels well known in your time?"
"Well, no," I began, "not for their work as law enforcement in Toontown. They were known for their role in a film called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit"."
"Roger Rabbit?" asked Uncle George, "You don't mean RK Maroon's star?"
"Yeah," I said, getting excited about the fact that my favorite movie was real, "That's exactly who I mean. They're the secondary villains in the film, and thanks to what you just told me, I now know that it actually happened. Or will happen, later today, based on today's date, and the date given in the film."
"Well," said Uncle George, "Whatever role they'll play in whoever framed Roger Rabbit, you'll have to know that I wasn't the one who named those weasels. Walt asked me to draw a group of tough-guy weasels for some last- minute touches on "Ichabod Crane and Mister Toad'. This was my first little tiff with Disney, because he had me draw them entirely new wardrobes! He and I had very different definitions of what a tough-guy Toon should look like. I drew them as gangsters, but Mr. Disney didn't want them to look like gangsters, so he asked me to draw some simple flat caps and raggedy shirts for them, like dockworkers, or something. They changed outfits as soon as we began filming."
"That's odd… I know for a fact that "Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad" was released in 1949. That's 8 years from when you say you worked on it," I pointed out.
"Yes…. Disney plans to release it in a few years. We would have released it after the filming was done, but it was delayed due to both the outbreak of the War, and a few other reasons."
"What other reasons?" I asked, curious to know.
"There was an….unfortunate accident on the stage next door to ours. They were wrapping up filming "Bambi", when the Toon playing the hunter- a rather ugly one named Baron VonRotten- was accidentally shocked by one of the multiplane cameras and, when he finally regained consciousness; he actually believed he was a villain! He went around the other sound stages wreaking all kinds of havoc, and disappeared into Toowntown shortly after that I don't know what's become of him."
"Oh…" I said. I knew instantly the Toon he meant, but I wasn't going to say anything. Not then, at least.
He continued, "I knew that the Weasels, also, would be trouble pretty soon after we were finished filming. But they can't help it. They were drawn that way, as villains." He sighed, and said, "At any rate, what you told me about where you ended up explains why Smartass left them with me. He just discarded them after filming was over. I see he found another pair to wear," he said, with a hint of distaste.
"So how do they work?"
"They're designed to return themselves to their original owner, where they live. You ended up right near the entrance of Toontown, though on this exact date, I don't know why. I don't think they'll go into Toontown. The physics in our world and in Toontown are enormously different, to say the least. Since they were drawn in the real world, but using the limited Toon physics that have a foothold here, they only worked partway, which was probably why the boss weasel discarded them."
"They were created here, so they only could take him as far as the entrance to Toontown. If I were to draw a new pair, and dedicate the drawing to you, the spats should, in theory, work for you and bring you back to almost exactly wherever it is you were…ah...zapped from." He chuckled a bit, But, I think, in all seriousness, I should be able to send you home within a week. If you like," he added, "I could make them work as a round trip, so you can come back here as often as you like."
I could hardly believe my ears. He found a way to send me home, almost straight away! And I could come back to my favorite decade if I wanted to?
"Thank you so much, Uncle George!" I felt like hugging him, but I figured that would be awkward, so I just grinned.
"It's really no problem," Uncle George said, "But, I'm not exactly sure when I can get the chance to do it. They have several new skits that need a new load of characters drawn to life. It may take a while. You can stay here if you like, until we can get you back to where you belong."
"Thank you! Oh, but…. First, I think I have a job to do," I said, thinking that I could very well get in on the action that the film was based on. No fan could possibly get to do what I was about to do!
But Uncle George misunderstood me."Well, there's an opening at the studio as a storage clerk, I think."
"Actually, Uncle George, I have another job in mind. Do you know the address for Valiant and Valiant, in LA?"
"The detective agency? Hold on. I think I have a business card somewhere," he said as he got up and retrieved his business card holder.
When he returned, he handed me a coffee-stained white card which read "Valiant and Valiant, Private Investigators." Below it, the address: "1130, South Hope Street, TEL: MAdion-3529".
"You can keep it," he said, "I have several others."
I said, barely able to contain my excitement as I put on my hat, "I think I'll head there right away!"
"Now wait a minute, just..wait! You don't mean you actually intend to interfere with this business- whatever it is- with Roger Rabbit and the Toon Patrol?"
I slowly began to sit down, "Yeah… why? Is there a problem?" But instantly, I saw there was a problem. A very big one.
"Well, for starters, Los Angeles nearly 40 miles away; an hour away from my house. And let's not even get started on the fact that Toontown has a dangerous underground. You could get hurt if you stick your nose in where it doesn't belong."
My smile began to fade. "I hitchhiked up here, and I could do the same on the way to LA… but you're right… I guess I was just excited, because the film that used whatever is going to happen in the next few days as its basis is my all-time favorite movie." Sheepishly, I grinned and took my hat off. George sat back in his chair, and said,
"Well, tell me what "all of this" is about. If this is as serious as you make it sound, Adam, I'm curious to hear about it."
So I told him, without going into too much detail, as I'm prone to doing, the entire plot of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" as simply as I could: "The film centers around alcoholic P.I, Eddie Valiant, who is hired by animator RK Maroon to take compromising pictures of RK's star Roger Rabbit's wife Jessica "playing patty cake"- literally, as it turns out- with Toontown's owner Marvin Acme. But things get screwy when Acme's will turns up missing and Judge Doom and the Toon Patrol start accusing Roger of murdering Acme. Eddie has to also try to save both the Red Car line of trolleys and Toontown from destruction by a company called Cloverleaf, find Acme's will and clear Roger's name. In the end, it's revealed that Doom owns Cloverleaf, and is behind it all, and wants to destroy Toontown and the Red Car line to build a massive highway. He's also a psychotic Toon in disguise, by the way. Based on what you've told me, it's all true, and is going to happen in the next three days!"
He looked like he was struck by lightning. "If this is all true, you must get involved! Toontown must be saved at all costs! It's already 10 am, so if you want to catch that Valiant man, you'll have to do it now. Come," he said, getting out of his chair. "I'll drive you there on my way to work."