-Dialogs-

Additional scenes precipitated by events in the novel
A TIME TO EVERY PURPOSE UNTO HEAVEN

Transcribed and just slightly dramatized by Andy Fox (landru@minn.net).

October 10, 2001

-----------------------------------
FORWARD


    The full meaning of the conversations and events presented in this
text can only be understood by reading the novel A Time To Every Purpose
Unto Heaven, a Tiny Toon Adventures fan fiction by Paul Kellogg. The novel
tells the story of toon life, centering around the daily activities of
the Tiny Toons. The novel also introduces to the Terran readers a character
by the name of Dr. Lord.

    Being as I am part of the Looney Tunes family and share my life with them,
the Tiny Toons, and the Animaniacs, it came to be that I also ended up in
Mr. Kellogg's novel. It was only a matter of time. And, several of the events
spoken of in the novel ended up affecting my life as well as the other toons.
    I present below a selection of scenes from my life whose occurrences are
direct results of events told of in Mr. Kellogg's novel, but are in no way
intended to replace or correct the novel. They are published here with
permission from Mr. Kellogg, and are ment simply to augment the story and
provide additional insight into the events it tells of.

    I did not create the scenes that you are about to read, I merely lived
them and attempted to transcribe them here in a pleasing manor. Some minor
facts may have been altered in accordance with certain toon security
stipulations, but I assure you that any such alterations are minor.

    Now, you may be asking: "Who exactly is Andy Fox anyway?" I'm Just your
ordinary, run-of-the-mill, nearly omnipotent, toon red fox. That's all.
Imagine a toon with the physical powers of Q from the T.V. series Star
Trek: The Next Generation and the mental faculties of Jeremy Reed from the
movie "Powder" and that'll be close. To quote what Paul Kellogg posted to
the TTAFF mailing list: "Andy Fox is just another toon who lives with the
Looney Tunes, has a human counterpart (isn't really named "Andy" but the
name is used due to the Protection of Information Stipulation, Tetra
Dimensional, 1973), and is (c) that human who goes by the name Andy
Gruenenwald. He is a specialist in Toon/Human relations and handles
contract negotiations with the human cartoon production companies. (He's
not a Toon Actor) In order to study human lives and to better understand
them he was spilt into two beings a number of years ago - one: a toon fox -
and one: a 3-D human. After his assignment ended, he found difficulty
abandoning his human form and returning to his former "whole" self. He
contacted Dr. Lord some time ago asking for help at re-combining himself.
He is also telepathic."

    In addition to that, there are a few additional facts that you may want
to read that will help you to understand some of the minor subtleties and
past events hinted at in the dialogs.
    I work for a company which provides services to toons including
animation company contracting and agent facilitation. The company also
has a scientific research division and is considered the top theoretical
and groundbreaking toon science facility in existence.
    In 1942 I was "inducted" into the Looney Tunes family through a very
special and private event. This is when I became a toon fox. From that point
on, I have been a Looney Tune; there is no difference between the rest of
the Looney Tunes and myself. I am considered one of them, for better or
worse, as it were.
    I handle all contract negotiations for the Looney Tunes, Tiny Toons,
and the Animaniacs. Over the years I have achieved a position of genuine
standing and appreciation in the world of toons, and have become an
important figure in the areas of cartoon contract negotiation, legal
issues, and scientific research in the areas of toon science.
    In 1992, in order to perform an unobtrusive psychological evaluation
of the Tiny Toons, I masqueraded as a Tiny Toon-style fox and attended Acme
Looniversity for eight weeks under the guise of a temporary transfer student
named Alex Fox. During the evaluation data was gathered that affirmed
theories that Fifi La Fume was... unique.
    As a toon I have telepathic powers and can read the minds of other
toons. Physical contact with the subject lessens the amount of concentration
needed to read the toon's mind and sense his/her thoughts, but is not
necessary. Aside from telepathy I am nearly omnipotent: I can learn things
with uncanny quickness, channel and re-direct toon energy. and manipulate
the toon world with far more ease and intricacy than other toons.

But, enough about me. What do *you* think about me?

Now, On with the dialogs.............


-----------------------------------
A VISIT WITH SLAPPY

--
This scene occurred several nights before the celebration at Dr. Lord's
mansion beginning in chapter 25 of the novel. Lord had requested that I find
out if Slappy Squirrel, one of the Animaniacs, would be attending. Slappy
and I use to have a thing going several years ago. It never really went
anywhere but we have stayed good friends since. This then is what
transpired as I arrived at Slappy's tree:
--

Slappy:	"Oh, Fox.  Won't you ah... come in?"
Fox:	"Hi, Slappy."
Slappy:	"So hou's life been treatin' ya?  Still at it with the rat race?"
Fox:	"Always."
Slappy:	"Eeeh, that stuff'll rot your brain... turn it all inside-out with
        that ruckus they got going down there.  Glad I'm out of it."
Fox:	(smiles) "You're not out of it, I just handle it all for you."
Slappy:	"Heh ha! Bingo! And a darn good job you're doin' of it too... not
        that I've got anything going on right now. Say, ah... Fox, anything
        comin' up?
Fox:	"If anything does you know I'll check it out."
Slappy:	"Eeeeh, those Warner windbags... So did you come by for something or
        did you just come to hear me talk?"
Fox:	"Eh heh... Well, I came to see if you were going to Dr. Lord's party."
Slappy:	"Oh yeah, him.  That ol' wind bag."
Fox:	(sternly) "Slappy!"

(Slappy digs in her trash basket for the invitation, her bottom half sticking
up out of the basket.  Muffled mumbling can be heard: "Sanna-frazzan thing,
where is it?"  As Slappy digs in the trash Skippy comes down from upstairs,
goes into the kitchen and gets a glass of water.)

Skippy:	"Hi, Andy."
Fox:	"Hi, Skippy."

(Skippy glances at the commotion coming from the trash basket with a puzzled
look on his face, then returns upstairs.  Momentarily Slappy emerges from
the trash can with crumpled piece of paper.)

Slappy:	"Ah!  here it is... That guy's kinda funny, I donno.  Kinda cuckoo
        if ya know what I mean."
Fox:	"Oh, come on.  He's not *that* bad.  Besides, he invited practically
        everyone around here.  Maybe you'll see someone."
Slappy:	(grumbles) "Eeeeeh... Are you goin'?"
Fox:    "He did invite me." (pause) "I will be going."
Slappy:	(un-crumpled invitation and reads it) "Wellll.... I donno.  It is my
        Bridge night."
Fox:	(sighs)
Slappy:	"Oh, alright.  Maybe I'll stop by for a few minutes or so, just to
        see what that old coot it up to, heh heh."
Fox:	"I'll tell him then."
Slappy:	"While you're at it, tell him to keep his thoughts to himself, unless
        he wants another bundle of dynamite down his pants."
Fox:	"I don't think that will be a problem."


-----------------------------------
A RECOVERING ROAD RUNNER

--
Please note that the thoughts I expressed here are dated and I have learned
many of the answers I was searching for.
--

    It was an hour or so after the race when I finally got the chance to visit
the Road Runner and check on his recovery. I had attended the race more out
of curiosity than for any concept of sport or wager. Why was Dr. Lord
involved? Did he have something to prove? Even before the race began I
suspected he was going to be able to outrun the rest of the racers, and that
suit he wore didn't help matters. As I sat waiting for the race to commence
the question was, how far would each of the racers get, and what would be
each one's failure?
    When the Road Runner fell I visibly winced in pain as I felt his defeat,
both physical and mental. Except for Dr. Lord, he was the only other racer
who had required medical attention. Cecil, Calamity, and Speedy had suffered
only trivial bruises (and burns) and had fully recovered and sent on their
ways. Upon the... completion of the race, I began to somewhat resent Dr.
Lord's presence. "This would not have happened if he weren't here."
    Resentment merged into reflection as I continued to ponder the events of
the race. How would the race have gone if Lord had not out-ran the other
racers and provided them with a target to shoot for? Would the racers have
achieved their full potentials? I sensed though, that if this concept was
anywhere in Lord's mind, it was secondary to some other, more buried, and
chillingly dark purpose that I had picked up from him. When he began to lose
himself into darkness, the surrounding energy disruptions were enough to make
me shudder. "Oh, crap," I thought as I sensed the changes in energy and force
in the area. The entire energy spectrum was being disrupted by something I
really didn't care to encounter. "Something terrible in him. Can he control
it? What if it gets loose?" Instinctively my thoughts turned to the toons.
"They must be kept safe."

    The Road Runner was physically recovered, but still somewhat exhausted
from such an exertion on his muscles. Wile E. had spent every minute with him
after the race. A look of panic and alarm had filled his face as I saw
him accompany the bird in the ambulance. Genuine concern and loyalty were
still evident on it.
    The Road Runner was sprawled out on a gurney resting as Wile E. sat
near. I thought of all of the humans and how they never knew how there two
characters really felt about each other.
    Wile E. eyed me as I approached the two.
    "So you were there?  You saw what happened?"
    I said nothing and rolled my eyes at him.  He turned away and looked down,
shook his head, and smiled: "I should know better."
    "Hey, Road," I said, approaching the Road Runner, "How ya doin'?"
    The Road Runner beeped his response.
    The language of the toon roadrunner is a relatively complex and difficult
language to master compared to those other toon animals. Each utterance can
convey a multitude of different messages and feelings, allowing a great deal
of information to be expressed with a simple "Beep beep." It takes a very
delicate ear and a great deal of practice to be able to catch and distinguish
all of the tonal nuances of the simple "Beep." It can take a toon years to
be able to comprehend the language. It took me a good three minutes. Wile E.,
of course, was fluent in the language.
    The Road Runner's response to me translated into the statements: "What
are you doing here?", "Fine, next silly question.", "As good as can be
expected, thanks for asking.", and "Oh, shut up."
    I could see that the Road Runner had been preening his feathers as best he
could since Wile E. had caringly replaced them. But his coat still maintained
a general frizzled look. I placed my hand palm down a foot or so above the
Road Runner's head and moved it down his body. As my hand passed over him,
his feathers under it ruffled and re-assigned themselves to their normal
pristine pre-race condition. The Road Runner beeped his gratitude.

    I touched his wing and gained knowledge of his condition. I could feel
that his sadness at failing in the race was surpassed only by his pride in
Little Beeper superceding him. The Road Runner had been the fastest toon
alive for all of those years, but times change and new toons come along. He
was designed for a different time, a different era. He was "Old School" now.
His young, energetic successor now carried the torch. It did not matter that
he did not win, only that his protege was the one to supercede him. I smiled.
Lord also knew this. I wondered why he had given in to Daffy. His intention
was never on the race, but on other issues. Why had he gotten the toons
involved with his other life? Foresight shows they never would have
accelerated that fast if he had not been there for them to catch.

    Complacency. Lord had said later, was setting in on the Looney Tunes.
Without challenge, there is no growth. I think sometimes though, growth
becomes tiresome. One cannot grow forever.

    The Road Runner was back to his normal, speedy and perky self the next day,
aware of his place in the great scheme of things, and quite happy of it
indeed. After all, he would always be able to out-run Wile E. And, after
all, isn't that what mattered?


-----------------------------------
CONVERSATION WITH FIFI

--
This item transpired while Fifi La Fume was roaming the city after she had
left Lord's mansion (chapter 34).

Note: I don't type in French accents, so don't ask me to. It aint in my
contract.
--

    Upon the breakup of Lord's party I returned home to my mansion to reflect
on things that had transpired, and to begin working on something for a friend.
I had chosen not to join in on the precession of toons to Dr. Lord's chapel,
but instead hung back in the ballroom out of respect for him and Red. I knew
full well the story of Dr. Lord and his late wife and had no desire to watch
him re-live the incident in his mind.
    Now it was late. I had my maroon house robe on and was preparing to retire
when the front door chime sounded; not the gate buzzer, mind you, but the
door chime, indicating someone I knew. I opened the front door to find her,
looking like she had been crying, a faint lost look in her eyes, but standing
erect, tall and dignified.
    "Fifi?" I asked quietly.
    "Bon Jour, Andy. May I... come in?"
    Thoughts darted around in my head as I guessed at what she had been going
through: "Why is she here? We knew this day would come. God but she turned
out beautiful."
    "Yes, certainly. Come in."
    I escorted her in and led her to one of my recreation rooms. In one corner
sat two cushioned arm chairs and a small table. She sat down in one and
looked about. Without asking I went over to the bar and came back with a
martini glass of wine for her. She took it quietly, sniffed it, and smiled.
    I shrugged: "Well, Pepe likes it." 
    "I know," she responded. "It is my favorite as well."
    We sat down in the adjoining arm chairs. She began to look more at ease.
    "So, what brings you to my house, Fifi?" I asked, casually.
    She looked at her glass, then back to me: "I... wanted to talk with you...
about Pa... Dr. Lord. He..." She was having difficulty phrasing her question
as thoughts raced in her mind. "He... I... We talked after the party. He
told me about... he explained... he told me about himself." I sensed a tinge
of terror in her as she wondered if she had said too much and betrayed her
promise of silence to him.
    I felt I should remove myself from her situation. I wasn't sure if I was
the one to be talking to: "Are you sure you want to talk to me about this?
Wouldn't Hamton be a better friend? Or your mentor?"
    Fifi looked desperate to justify herself coming to see me: "I... cannot
tell them. I love Hamton, but right now I don't need love. I need... help...
advice... answers."
    I started again: "I don't think..." Fifi cut me off: "Please, Andy. I..."
She re-composed herself: "Many of us (Tiny Toons)... well, we think of you
kind of like an uncle... the relative to go to when we do not know where to
go... someone we can talk to and has all the answers." She paused for a
second, then added: "I know Buster has come to you several times."
    I shifted my weight around in my chair as her words unexpectedly struck
home and tore away any reason to not help her.
    Reluctantly I answered: "Yes."
    Fifi took a sip of her wine: "I saw you with Dr. Lord at his party. Do
you... know him?"
    I sat back: "I remember seeing him around the cartoon filming sets back
in the 40's. But we were always working on different sets, or at different
times. I didn't pay him too much attention. I never really met him and spoke
with him until this week."
    Fifi's eyes were fixed on me as she continued: "What do you know of him? I
mean, what do you think of him? Do you... like him?"
    I pondered for a second, contemplating how to give an answer that would
not suggest that I knew anything: "Well, he isn't that much different than
anyone else here. But he's had a very complex life, making him a complex
toon. He seems a nice enough fellow."
    "He has these... powers... like you. You have seen them?"
    "Yes," I said distantly.
    "Is he... are you two..." Fifi trailed off, hesitating to speak what she
was suggesting.
    I smiled: "No relation."
    Fifi relaxed, apparently happy with the answer.
    "We are similar beings, I think, originating differently, but both finding
a home here."
    Fifi thought to herself, contemplating her own existence and origin.
Unexpectedly she asked: "Do you think he is... good? I know you can tell
things about people, like Shirley does. I think she knows something. But you
are more powerful than she is. Do you sense anything from him?" Fifi now
looked slightly embarrassed in asking something this private.
    "Oh..." I started, stretching, "I donno, Fifi. Everyone is different,
and everyone has things they hide. But if he harbors any hostile feelings
towards anything, it is not towards toons. He loves this world, and harbors
no ill will to anything or anyone in it... not even Bugs."
    Fifi looked a bit surprised at my answering her next question.  She spoke
out loud, confirming what Dr. Lord had told her: "So he does come from some
other world... or universe?"
    "Sure... but then, so do I," I pointed out.
    "Yes, but... you... are a toon now... you came here right away, and you
became a true toon. Pepe told me about it. Dr. Lord..." She trailed off
again, remembering what he had told her of his centuries on Earth before
ever finding the Tooniverse. In her mind this was making me more of a toon
than he. She was frustrated that she couldn't present this to me for my
opinion.
    I, on the other hand, was slightly shocked that Pepe had told her about my
true nature, and even more that he alluded to my joining the world of toons.
I thought it was have been kept private. Pepe must have felt it necessary to
tell her.
    "Fifi, not everyone is what they may seem. But that does not mean they are
trying to deceive or lie to you. You have to feel for yourself what is true
and right." I winked at her. "Sometimes we look different, to serve a
purpose."
    Fifi's next thoughts ended up going in a completely unexpected direction
than the one I had anticipated. She put her glass on the table in front of
her. She laced her fingers together in her lap and looked down: "I know you
were Alex Fox. Bugs told me."
    I looked away, totally taken off-guard. I had never found a way to tell
her. I wasn't expecting this. She had known all these years? Now what was
she going to say? Did she resent my presence in her life? Is this why she
came over? And why had Bugs told her anyhoo?
    I looked back at her to see her smiling sweetly at me: "I am not mad at
you. You were sweet. I liked being around you. And I don't care that you
are Andy and not Alex. We had a special time. I know you really liked me,
and you weren't just observing me."
    "I thought I was the one with psychic powers," I asked, coyly.
    She smiled: "You don't need psychic powers to tell how someone feels about
you. I did miss you, Alex, for a time. Why didn't you tell me?"
    I looked down: "I... didn't know how. I thought it might be better if you
didn't know you had been going out with... a grown-up toon... and your
contract agent on top of that."
    Fifi smiled: "I wouldn't have cared."
    I leaned forward, took her hand, and spoke softly: "I think you just found
what you were looking for."
    She looked at me, mystified at her own words to me, realizing how looks,
past, and job sometimes does not matter.
    The grandfather clock in the corner began to chime. Fifi stood up: "Oooh,
it's late. I should go."
    "Ok," I agreed.
    We arrived at the front door and Fifi looked up at me, contemplating
whether or not to give me a hug. I held out my hand and she took it to shake
it. I smiled and bent down slightly and we embraced each other. But now for
the first time I was feeling strangely odd about it, as if I was embracing
someone else's property.
    "Thank you for talking with me, Andy," Fifi sighed.
    "No problem. *Uncle* Fox will always be around," I said happily. She
smiled and closed her eyes. And, for just an instant, it was just like
hugging Alex Fox.
    As I laid my hand on the doorknob to open the door I sensed the still
unanswered questions hovering in her mind that she could not ask me, due to
her vow of silence to Dr. Lord. I felt an uncontrollable impulse to do
something, to directly address the matter in some way. I looked blankly at
nothing and spoke softly to her: "Fifi, do not fear what you are."
    Her jaw slowly dropped as she took in a gasp. Then, to my surprise she
again embraced me: "You sheeet. You knew. I knew it. You knew all along."
    I took her hands and released myself from them. Then I held up a finger
to my mouth: "Shhhh. This is something for you and him."
    She again smiled sweetly at me as I opened the door for her.
    I watched her walk down the front steps and down the tiled path to the
front gate. I remember thinking to myself: "She certainly isn't a little
girl anymore."


-----------------------------------
ENCOUNTER WITH BUGS BUNNY

--
I went to see Bugs the day after the party. The following occurred around
10:30 AM (toon time, of course). I have tried to be accurate with the dialog
and actions, but it was a lot to try to remember.
--

    I found him at the Looniversity in the Teachers' Lounge. An odd place
to be on a Saturday, I thought. He was sitting alone at a table, blankly
paging through an issue of VarieToon. He looked like his mind had left him
and was off somewhere contemplating something. I sat down across from him.
    "How've you been, Bugs?" I asked, trying to bring him back to the now.
    Bugs looked up with a start:  "Oh, Fox. Hi."
    "You doin' okay?" I inquired.
    Bugs looked past me: "Yeah, I suppose."
    I sat quietly as he tried to look interested in the magazine. After a
few moments he spoke, still looking down at the magazine: "You see any of da
guys lately?"
    After a few seconds I replied in a soft voice: "I know what happened."
    For an instant a spark of rage flared up in Bugs' mind, but then ebbed
away into obscurity. Seems he was not quite over the incident yet.
    He closed his magazine and focused his attention on me.
    "Sure you want to be seen with me?" he asked, a tinge of disgust in his
voice.
    "Psssh," I sounded, making a waving gesture with my hand.
    Bugs eyed me skeptically, his voice taking on a less tense tone: "How is
da Road Runner?"
    I looked off to the side: "He's fine... physically."
    I turned back to see a stern look on Bugs' face. He then spoke in a
direct tone: "Do you think I was right... about da race?"
    I leaned back a bit and looked past Bugs at the wall behind him where a
bulletin board hung with various news articles. I sensed Bugs was "sending
out his feelers" as it were, trying to figure out if he was alone, or if
his feelings towards the matter were shared by any other. I returned my
gaze to Bugs and spread my fingers out on the table: "Yes... yes I do, Bugs."
    I looked off to the side and added: "I suppose we have all become...
complacent. Is that such a bad thing?"
    "You've been talking to Doc, haven't you? And I don't mean at the party."
    "For some time," I admitted with some reservation. "I've been talking
with him on Earth for some time. He tried to help me with..." I trailed off
and made an obscure gesture with my left hand, flailing it around in the air.
I heard in Bugs' mind the comment: "So not even Doc could do it. Fox trusted
him enough with that dimensional stuff to ask Doc's help, and Doc chose to
help. Guess I've been wrong about him."
    Bugs fingered his magazine: "I suppose you and he... you two..." Bugs
tapped his head with his left index finger.
    I let out a chuckle: "Of course. Can't have such a powerful fellow
lurking about without knowing anything about him now, can we?"
    I sat back and reflected: "I was there at the Looniversity when he made
his introduction, just to see what was up. Remembered him from the 40's.
Hadn't seen him for all those years, and never really knew him or who he was.
I sensed he wasn't your normal toon. So, I was around... marshalling the
situation, standing off to the side... monitoring. Not often you see someone
as powerful as him around."
    "Or you?" Bugs added.
    "Who better to defend? But, action was uncalled for and hostility
unnecessary. We were not enemies, just concerned for our own. Never can be
too safe though. We have talked and learned much from each other."
    Bugs was quiet for several seconds as if he were coming to grips with
something. He looked over at the doorway, then to the table.
    "I *am* jealous of him, ya know," Bugs offered. "Even after what he did
for me and Honey at the party."
    "I know," I said casually. "So?"
    Bugs was taken aback by my casualness and his eyes widened.
    I leaned forward and continued more seriously: "You know, Bugs, you...
Porky... Daffy... no toon can help some of what he or she is. You were
created to be a strong, perfect hero, always cool, always in control. It
isn't just in the scripts or the acting. It is part of your make-up... your
toon formula, just the same as all toons, no matter how they came into
existence. Some are just affected more than others. Each director and writer
on Earth helped shape and define you. You can't help but be what they
created, even off-camera. A true toon is designed as well as created.
Sometimes we forget this."
    "Everything Porky said about me and da business was true, ya know," Bugs
stated.
    "I know," I sighed. "I was there, remember? Granted I probably didn't pay
it as much attention back then as I should have. But Porky had that stuff
bottled up inside for way too long. When anger and hatred fester in a closed
environment for too long it becomes distorted and terrible. When you started
in on Daffy about the race it was too much for Porky to keep inside any
longer..." I trailed off for a second, my mind exploring something. I
finished: "I ran into him earlier and he admitted that he wished he had not
said some of the things he did. But your friendship with him has been tested."
    Bugs looked down meekly.
    I sat back and continued: "Maybe I am biased. I donno. But we all do still
like you. Hell, if we didn't, you would have been strapped to an Acme rocket
and sent off to who-knows-where years ago."
    Bugs' gaze returned to me with a bit of hope in his expression: "Was you
serious about da press conference?"
    "Well," I started with tiredness in my voice, "it's a stretch to try to
pull off only being here as much as I am."
    Bugs' whiskers dropped a bit with anticipated disappointment. My right
hand disappeared beneath the table and returned a second later with a pen
and piece of paper. I slid the paper in front of Bugs and placed the pen
next to it. Then I sat back and smiled devilishly. Bugs' eyes looked down
at the paper. At the top, in prominent letters were the words: "Media Press
Event Schedule Directive Class A". The form was completely filled out and
signed except for the date of the event. As his eyes scanned it he spoke
in fragmented speech with surprise and awe: "Dis has been signed by da
heads of da toon media press staff... and da National Film Board... and..."
    "Hmm, imagine that," I muttered. "Amazing what you can do in one morning.
Turns out you and Honey aren't the only ones who want to see this addressed.
There are quite a few others who have never spoken up... until recently."
Bugs could only stare as he read the remainder of the signatures of
attendants and event authorizers (some of which are not the easiest
signatures to get I might add). I tilted my chair back and recline a bit,
stretching my arms and lacing my fingers against the back of my head. "Warner
Brothers isn't gonna like this," I added in a melodic warning voice. "There
are also quite a few people that don't want this to happen."
    Bugs just looked up at me with an open mouth: "But how did you..."
    "Ohhhh," I cut him off. "I'm not as helpless as I tended to let on," I
said with a Doc Holiday voice.
    I gestured to the form. "Pick a day," I said, smiling happily.
    Bugs was still in a bit of a state of shock. "Thanks a lot, Fox," He
finally said.
    "Sure," I answered. After all these years I can still come to the
rescue and make a difference in a toon's life, and make them happy.  That's
what I am here for, and I ask nothing in return, but would cherish friendship.
    I got up to leave. Bugs followed me with his eyes and smiled weakly: "I
guess I've been pretty stupid, huh, Doc?"
    I hesitated for a split second at hearing his trademark 1st person
pronoun, then shrugged and replied: "Eh. But tell me something, Bugs: why
did you let me in to your mind after the problems you had with Dr. Lord?"
    Bugs made an unintelligible muttering sound before responding: "Eeeh,
you're... different. We knew each other longer. You had a different... way."
    Bugs' eyes told me he was having trouble vocalizing his true reasons to
me. Perhaps he was holding something back. I did not probe further and
decided to let it go at that. He'll tell me when he's ready.
    I laid a re-assuring hand on his shoulder for a second, then walked
towards the door.
    As I left the lounge Bugs sat looking at where I had been sitting. He
thought about his friends, and how they were still there for him after what
he had done. Then he thought about himself and how he didn't deserve to be
surrounded by such toons. He thought of Lola, and how she had been drug
around by WB. He also thought of Dr. Lord and how he had treated him. And,
he thought of Red. After a few minutes he got up and left. Only the magazine
remained on the table.


-----------------------------------

    Well, that's it. As Mr. Kellogg's novel is not yet completed there may
well be additional scenes and events that I may be involved in. If any
should come to be, and are suitable for publication, they shall be released.

    If you would like any additional information on these events or the toons
themselves, you are welcome to email me.

    I would like to thank those who have expressed an opinion on the above
writings. I never intended to become a TTAFF writer. And, now that I
have practiced what I preach (review/critique of TTAFF), I welcome any
input.

    I would also like to thank Dr. Lord for his efforts in attempting to
rectify my predicament. Although his efforts were to no avail, they were
greatly appreciated.


Thank you for observing all safety precautions.