A World Not Meant To Be or: Survival Through A Sequence Of Highly Improbable Events by Gregory Grainneog ( retold from the reminisces of John Brennan ) Note on the story: This is, as close to the truth as a tale can be without going into unnecessary detail, the story of the human John Brennan and how he was present to witness the rediscovery of the toon 'messiah' Perceval Troy during the Christmas of 2001. This recounting was pieced together from several interviews with Mr. Brennan himself, additional confirmation on the events provided by both Fifi La Fume and Professor Harold Tinkering of the 'La Nuit' bookshop, Paris. This work is therefore dedicated to the combined efforts of all three individuals. In order to help readers understand the global situation at the time in which these events took place, a limited recounting of modern toon history has also been included. This includes a detailed ( but far from comprehensive ) account of the world changing events of late 1991, again based on the reminisces of Mr. Brennan. If you have any further questions about the gathering of information for this tale then you can contact me at: Doctorsolar@Hotmail.com I am obliged to point out that many of the toons involved in this account are employees of Warner Bros. and that they appear without the permission of their agent. Individuals who appear in this record: John Brennan: The narrator and employee at the Acme Acres Ice Cream Parlour Fifi La Fume: Former student of Acme Looniversity, now resident in Imperial France Shirley McLoon: US President based in Acme Acres Prof. Harold Tinkering: Toon Squirrel and owner of 'La Nuit' bookstore, Paris. Pepe Le Pew: Emperor of France and Western Europe ( Excluding British Isles and Norway ) Richard Callaghan: Aide at the Imperial palace Babs and Buster Bunny: Founders of The Bunnyfield travelling circus Plucky Duck: An admirer of President McLoon who works in her publicity department Roderick Rat: Founder of the 'Toon Power' organisation Rhubella Rat: Former lover of Roderick now strongly opposed to his views Sophie La Fume and Henri Le Fume: Fifi's parents Anne La Fume: Fifi's sister Rene Le Fume: Fifi's Uncle. Danforth Drake and Margot Mallard: Two 'Toon Power' operatives working incognito in Acme Acres. Calamity Coyote: Scientific advisor to President McLoon Hamton J. Pig: Minister for the environment Montana Max: High ranking member of the 'Toon Power' organisation Elmyra Duff: Member of 'Toon Power' but only because Monty is involved Kyle Barnstaple: Childhood friend of John Brennan Jean Le Neuf: Toon revolutionary and commander of the Skunk army Charlie Hobson: Manager of the Acme Acres Ice Cream Parlour. Digeri Dingo: Tasmanian prison official "By their very nature, toons are a grave danger to mankind. Yes, they can be hurt, but they cannot be permanently harmed. If they were to ever turn against us, ever organise themselves into an effective fighting force - what chance would we mere humans have?" Dr. George Ballard, speaking in a BBC television interview in 1974 PART ONE IN WHICH LIVES ARE CHANGED AND A NEW WORLD IS BORN _______________________________________________________________ PROLOGUE Where to begin? At the start I suppose... they always say that tales read best when told from there. But the beginning of my story goes back much further than those three brief months in which I witnessed history in the making, much further indeed. It begins some ten years before that to be exact, in a quiet little town called Acme Acres. No doubt you've heard of this place - it's the US capital these days. But back then, the average schoolchild would be hard pressed to find the name on a map. I'd certainly never heard of it when I first arrived on its streets during the long, cold winter of 1988. My first impression was of a nice, homely town, a retreat from the constant stress of everyday life and a place where all the strangers were friendly. An unexpected delight in an otherwise cruel world you might say. Never in my wildest dreams could I have ever imagined the impact that this little place would one day have on the rest of the world. Little acorns they say... little acorns. How I came to be in the United States in the first place is a story in itself. I had been born and raised in a place called Ballymun, a tough suburb on the northside of Dublin that was notorious for it's high crime rate. Not that I was an angel myself mind you... as the files in my local Garda station could clearly testify. At the age of sixteen and following what seemed to be an entire year of constant detention, I finally left school for good, immediately starting work in a furniture assembling factory some twenty minutes walk from my home. The pay was quite low but it was sufficient to keep me in limited comfort and to be honest, as long as I could buy my cigarettes and alcohol I don't think I could have cared less about anything else. Such was the idiocy of my youth. The mid 80s recession hit the place pretty hard however and at the age of nineteen in the early part of 1987 I found myself not only out of work, but so unskilled that I was practically unemployable. My future it would seem, if indeed I had any, lay elsewhere. So gathering together the last of my savings I bought myself a one way ticket to Boston, spending the next few months working my way across the States finding odd jobs whenever and wherever I could. When my work visa expired I decided to stay anyway, figuring that I'd never be caught. I'd met plenty more illegal Irish along the way so I assumed that the practice was fairly widespread and after the first fortnight I no longer even feared being arrested. So that was my life for the next eighteen months or so, travelling slowly across the States and doing different jobs here and there wherever workmen were needed. Construction work, bar work, messenger... I did more or less anything that I could get. Eighteen months of low rent motels, downmarket night-clubs and constant headaches. I was drinking far too much, smoking like a trooper. Each day merged into the next to become one long continuos blur. I was a man on a road to nowhere you might say. By the time I arrived at the west coast I just wanted it all to end, needed a place where I could settle down for a while. And it was Acme Acres that seemed ideal for my needs. The place was almost uncannily quaint, the people seemed decent enough and were the kind of folk you wouldn't mind being neighbours with. Better than that, there were plenty of places looking for workers and one such establishment, an ice cream parlour on the main street, was offering a more than decent wage for a six day week. I quickly got myself the job, hiring out a room in a nearby house that was up for rent. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity my life once again began to seem enjoyable. The job was tiring but at the same time fairly easy, my boss an elderly and extremely likeable Californian by the name of Charlie Hobson. He was a bespectacled individual in his early sixties, possessed of a charming personality that was reminiscent of a kindly grandfather character you might see on tv. It was this kindly manner, together with all the other charming quirks of Acme Acres that made the place such a joy to reside in. There was one other little thing about the town which raised my opinion of it above the norm. It was full of toons! A real epicentre you might say. Now, I'd seen plenty of toons before and not just on television. There were a few back home in Dublin and during my time in the States I'd come across quite a number of them during my travels. But it was the sheer amount of them in Acme Acres that impressed me. I'd never seen so many all in the one place. Big ones, small ones, animal and human... You couldn't walk down the street without passing at least a dozen of them. Apparently the closer you got to California, Hollywood in particular, the more of them you would find. I found it difficult to believe that there could be a greater number anywhere else. In fact, the toon population in Acme Acres was so high that there were two schools designed especially for their needs, Perfecto Prep, an upmarket establishment where only the rich need apply and the Acme Looniversity, a considerably friendlier place where the doors were open to more or less anyone. The Looniversity was less than fifteen minutes walk from the ice cream parlour and every day just after three, gangs of students would enter the place looking for their fill of sundaes, banana splits and more or less anything we had on offer. I used to considerably look forward to their arrival for they really livened the place up in the afternoon. "Been the same since I opened," smiled Charlie one morning. "Everyday they pour in here in their droves... I reckon they keep me in business." And that's how it was for the next three years or so, a daily routine that was tiring but at the same time quite enjoyable. I got to know many of the Loo students during this time, got to know some of them quite well in fact. But then, one day in October 1991 there came a news report from Tokyo that changed everything... CHAPTER ONE: THE COMING OF THE TOONS My first encounter with a toon came when I was about four years of age, a little grey rabbit just happening to sit opposite me on the tram one day. I seem to recall being quite intrigued by this minute creature that sat before me, unsure perhaps of just exactly what he was. Most of the other passengers didn't even give him a second glance, seemingly too wrapped up in their own private concerns to care. I'd seen toons before on television of course, but the simple experience of observing one sitting right in front of me like that, his luminous fur a distinct contrast with the drabness of the green seat behind him, was probably a little too much for my young mind to take. For a long time I stared directly towards him as if hypnotised, my head rocking back and forth every so often as the tram swung round a bend but my eyes remaining rigidly locked upon his position. Almost as tall as myself and with intense blue eyes that were magnified by the half moon spectacles resting on his little button nose, he leafed his way through a daily newspaper, humming softly to himself the tune of Greensleeves. Was he real? A living, breathing creature? My mother suddenly tapped me on the shoulder, shaking her head slowly. "Now John," she said sternly. "You know it's not polite to stare." As she spoke, the little rabbit instantly looked up and grinned broadly. "Hey lady, don't worry about it," he laughed. "I get it all the time. I like it when the young ones look at me." My mother didn't reply, an odd look of embarrassment crossing her face before she turned her head towards the window. The rabbit, smile wavering, returned to his newspaper. At the next stop he hopped up from his seat and got off, paper folded neatly under his right arm. My eyes were still fixed on him as he clambered down the steps, fuzzy white tail clearly visible amongst a sea of grey fur. Just before disembarking he suddenly looked back towards me and winked, large buck teeth showing as he gave me a wide grin. I never saw him again. Although toons were quite rare in Dublin they were not totally unknown. As I grew older I saw more and more of them, gradually coming to realise that there was a population of at least a hundred in the city centre alone. Despite my youthful fascination with my rabbit travelling companion however, I have to confess that toons, or indeed the mysteries surrounding them, had never really intruded on my psyche. They were just another part of life, a very odd part perhaps but simply another enigma of the world. Kyle Barnstaple changed all that. Kyle was my best friend all through my later school years and he was absolutely fascinated with toons and their ways, not just in the many movies and tv shows that they had appeared in, but with the creatures themselves. "Do you realise," he asked me one day. "That nobody actually knows where toons came from? Not only that, but no one has ever been able to work out how such creatures can even exist." I looked at him with no real interest, shivering in the cold February chill as we awaited the school to open. "Just look at them," he continued. "Indestructible! Nothing can harm them... nothing at all. They'd walk away from an erupting volcano without a scratch!" "They're not made like us anyway," I muttered. "Certainly not! In fact they're not made like anything else on earth. It's almost as if they're composed of something that isn't even of this universe." "My granddad used to say that toons came from outer space," I smiled. "Nah..." replied Kyle. "Even if they were from another planet they'd still be composed of something recognisable... something that obeyed the physics of our universe. I reckon they're from a different dimension altogether." "Ever think of asking one?" I muttered. My words took on a sarcastic tone as I spoke, well aware of the fact that as much as he liked them, Kyle hadn't actually got the guts to go up to a real toon and start a conversation. "It wouldn't make any difference," he replied after a brief moment. "Loads of people have asked that question before. The toons that exist in the world today are no more aware of the origin of their ancestors than we are." "But I heard that toons can't die," I expressed. "If that's true then some of the very first ones must still be around." "Maybe they are but if so they're pretty elusive." As Kyle spoke the school bell rang, all talk of toons forgotten as we both trudged grimly towards our classrooms. The conversation we had the following morning was more or less the same. Kyle's constant discussions on toons were enough to arouse a minute spark of interest in me and on one occasion when I was about 14 or so, I made my way to my local library in order to look up some information on the subject. Kyle was indeed correct, toons were a truly fascinating species. Although no one was quite sure just where they had originated from, it was generally agreed that they had first arrived on our world sometime in the late twelfth century. This assumption was based on the fact that the first mention of them in recorded literature was in the poem 'Pardonna', written by an anonymous Englishman in 1197. Forward came the glowing one Like an angel in the dark A glove of four painted fingers Glowing eyes that find the mark For he is the one who remains Never in a battle will fall No mountain high can stop his walk No tree or wall too tall ( Rough translation from Latin ) Before this there had been no reference to them at all... no trace of them in cave paintings nor in the surviving works from ancient Greece or Rome. It was as if they had just appeared from nowhere in the early years of the second millennium. Over the centuries of course, many people had pondered the mysteries behind their origin but none of them had come up with a firm answer. One interesting theory was that toons were originally beings composed of pure energy who needed a solid body in order to survive in our world. In order to achieve this they took on appearances based on what they saw around them. Animals. People. Plants even. Once adopting these forms they became permanently stuck like that - their offspring born in similar forms and without the ability to change shape. Another wildly believed theory was that toons were put on the Earth by a higher power to watch over us - nature spirits if you like. There were some who associated them with elves and fairies, shadow races that had evolved alongside mankind. Most 20th Century scientists disregarded these theories as works of pure fantasy, deciding instead to work upon more 'reasonable' lines of thought. Despite their research however, they never came up with anything better. From about 1500 onwards, the appearance of toons in stories, poems and artwork became increasingly commonplace and it was during the mid to late 19th century that they became associated mainly with entertainment. Due to their almost uncanny abilities they were always a regular fixture in circuses and fetes, their tricks and comedy routines entertaining a broad spectrum of age groups. One particularly famous group of toons from this period were the 'Wagon Gang', a travelling assortment of performers who toured the US and Mexico from 1867 until 1910. They mainly arrived at small and remote towns, performing for up to three days at a time before heading off into the sunset to meet a fresh audience elsewhere. Today, stories about the exploits of the 'Wagon Gang' have become almost legendary. It was the genesis of cinema in the 1890s that marked the beginning of the 'modern toon' era. From then on they would be exclusively considered as natural entertainers, at least 75% of the total toon population working in the film industry by the outbreak of the Great War in 1922. They were notable exceptions of course. The novelist Samuel Spaniel was a prime example of a famous toon working outside the movie business, his 1904 masterpiece 'The One Eyed Man is King' still in print almost a century later. The great scientist Cathy Kitty was another. But as far as most people were concerned toons were film stars - masters of slapstick. At least that's how it was up until 1991. CHAPTER TWO: OCTOBER 1991 At first nobody really cared. Japan was so far away, so distant and remote out there across the wide Pacific that it might as well have been another planet altogether. When the first news reports from Tokyo began to filter through, not many people so much as thought twice about them. Sure, it was certainly a terrible turn of events but what could one really do except continue on with life? The problem wasn't in the local neighbourhood so why get worried about it? By the time the newspapers and television started to give it serious coverage the crisis was already two days old. At 8 pm on the night of October 21st, a small group of toons had staged a supposedly peaceful demonstration outside the Diet building in Tokyo. For the third time in fifteen years they had been denied the right to vote and tempers were obviously raised. By nine thirty the demonstration was starting to brew into a riot and police had surrounded the group on all sides with water cannons. Smoke bombs were used to try and disperse the gathering but this only resulted in the toons becoming more violent. Within an hour a group of them had somehow managed to get into the Diet building itself, taking several members of government hostage, including the Prime Minister. Once there, they declared in no uncertain terms that unless their demands were met, they would publicly humiliate their prisoners by bombarding them with custard pies on live television ( Such was toon logic ). The police still didn't take them seriously however, considering them little to no threat as they were mere toons. Then, at 5:30 pm on October 23rd, the Japanese Prime minister was seriously wounded by a falling anvil, an incident that the toons proclaimed to be an accident. But it was too late - the damage had been well and truly done. Within an hour the police had stormed the building and arrested all 17 toons responsible for the incident. No sooner had they ended up in custody than a large proportion of their fellow toons across Japan began to protest, believing that the cause of their brothers was just. Over the next few hours there were hundreds of reported scuffles between toons and humans, mostly confined to the larger cities. Then, just before dawn, there came the first reported human fatality and all of a sudden it became deadly serious. The toons, once regarded as an idiotic and ridiculous species were suddenly becoming objects of fear and revulsion. Humans began to evacuate all the major Japanese cities in droves, gangs of toons gathering in the streets. Within three days the cities of Tokyo, Osaka and Nagasaki were theirs, the only humans remaining doing so in order to loot. That the one fatality of the incident hadn't actually been killed by a toon, but had in fact fallen from a building while throwing rocks at a group of beavers didn't seem to matter. As far as the public were concerned the beavers had killed him. The army were eventually called in but what could they do? Toons couldn't be harmed - couldn't be dealt with no matter how powerful the weapons. So a group of government officials went in to negotiate, only to return tarred and feathered. There were now over 1,500 toons gathered in central Tokyo alone and they weren't planning on surrendering the city until all their kind were granted equal rights as humans. October 25th was a Friday and as on all Fridays, the ice cream parlour stayed open until 8:30 pm. The usual gang were in, sitting around the tables by the window and discussing the school day with their friends. The green duck and pig that seemed to be best of pals. The blue bunny. The red haired little girl who always seemed to be half choking her raggedy blue furred cat to death. They were all there as usual, laughing amongst themselves. But the more I observed them the more I began to realise that someone was missing. It only took me a second to realise who it was. The skunk. The little purple skunk with the French accent... the one who always bought the blueberry flavoured ice cream. Where was she? Come to think of it, I didn't recall having seen her the previous night either. So used was I to seeing regular faces that when I approached Babs Bunny and Shirley the Loon, both of whom were close friends of the absent skunk, I didn't think twice about asking them the location of their comrade. "I thought you three were permanently glued together," I laughed, wiping some ice cream stains from the table. "Where's you little friend tonight?" Babs looked up from her banana split, smiling despite the fact that her eyes betrayed concern. "You mean Feef?," she grinned. "Ahh... She's gone home to France. Her family were concerned about her." "Gone home for good?" I asked. "Sort of an extended vacation," expressed Shirley. "Her mom and dad were like, totally convinced that there was going to be riots here too. I reckon they want her to go to school in Paris where it's safer." An awkward silence swept across the area, a slight look of embarrassment forming on my face as I continued cleaning the table. Most of the toons had stopped chattering and were now staring silently into their ice cream. "It won't happen here though," grinned Babs after a few moments. "This is a one off... an orange in an orchard, an oasis in a desert, a good joke in a Police Academy movie." While speaking she suddenly leapt up onto the table, spin changing into a pretty good facsimile of George Bush and grabbing a hold of my arm. "Read my lips," she exclaimed with a bizarre eye flutter. "There's no trouble ahead." In the blink of an eye she had reverted to her former self, doing a little curtsey before sitting back in her chair. "Just a little thing I do," she smiled, flashing her eyelids once again. I stood in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. "Okay," I finally muttered. "You having anything else?" The phone was ringing as I unlocked my door. Quickly tossing my coat onto a chair I picked up the receiver, a few short blips before I heard a familiar voice at the other end of the line. "John?" it asked. I paused, surprised that my mother would phone at this time. "Yeah mom, it's me. Why you calling so late? Must be well after midnight there." "I know, but I just had to call you. Have you been watching the news?" "Of course. Everyone has." "Why don't you come home John?" she asked, voice filing with concern. "I'm really worried about you." "Look mom," I replied. "I understand the fact that you're worried. Most people are worried. But the situation in Tokyo isn't going to happen here okay. I know a lot of the local toons - they wouldn't hurt a fly." "But you're so close to that Looniversity place." "Yeah, I'm pretty close to it," I replied, glancing out the window. "I can even see the clock tower in the distance right now. But you have to understand mom... I've finally found myself a life that I enjoy. It's not perfect but then again, what is? You know I'm not exactly here 'officially'. If I come home I might have a problem getting back into the States again." "Well just promise me that if anything happens you'll get out of Acme Acres." "I... I can't really make a promise like that. I have a job - bills to pay." "For pity's sake John just promise me. You don't have to go away for good. Just get out of that place for a couple of weeks." I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly, understanding her concern but at the same time starting to feel angry at her unreasonable demands. She just didn't seem to realise how strongly I needed to hang on to my present lifestyle. "I'll try," I finally replied. "If anything starts to happen I promise I'll make an effort to get away." "Thanks," she whispered after a long silence. "Thanks John." "Look mom, this call must be costing you an arm and a leg. Try and get some sleep and don't be worrying too much. Nothing's going to happen." We bid our farewells and I put down the phone, standing in silence and staring towards the postcard of St. Stephen's Green that I had pinned to the wall just above the mantelpiece. Although I was inwardly trying to deny it I was nervous, even more so now that I knew my mother was scared. "Nothing's going to happen," I told myself. "Nothing at all." I was still trying to convince myself of that three hours later. Buster and Babs Bunny turned up at the ice cream parlour just after myself and Charlie opened up. They sat down together quietly by the window, talking in hushed voices as I approached. "Early starters," I smiled. "What you having?" "Just a carrot surprise," smiled Buster. "Me and Babsy will share." Babs looked strangely glum, not saying much and seemingly staring intently at her hands. It seemed clear that she was troubled by something. I was just writing down their order in my notebook when Shirley appeared at the doorway. She was dressed in a ankle length blue velvet dress and with her yellow hair tied up with a matching blue bow. "Twenty minutes," she called to the bunnies. "Looks like we have a seriously good crowd." "What did I tell you Shirl?" grinned Buster. "There's loads of people who care about this just as much as you do." "Like, there's at least one hundred," she continued. "That's totally better than I expected fer sure! I'm kind of nervous about standing up in front of them all though." "Something going on?" I asked. "Just a small show of solidarity for our Japanese cousins," replied Shirley. She must have noticed the sudden whiteness that appeared on my face. "Don't worry," she continued. "It's just a peaceful gathering. Perhaps those Japanese toons have gone about this the wrong way but everyone here can understand their fight. I mean, we don't have the right to vote either you know. Not only that but like, there's a lot of jobs that won't accept us as employees because they don't think we're capable of doing serious work er sum junk." "I suppose I can understand," I said quietly. "You know, we're just as smart as you humans," she went on. "All we want is equal rights kay. That's not too much to ask is it?" "Look, I agree with you totally," I replied. "But please don't let this demonstration get out of control." Shirley smiled. "I believe we can achieve a lot of things without violence," she said. "Don't worry John. I'll make sure everything goes smoothly kay. Why don't you come on down to the Loo and join in? We could do with a few humans to show their support." "Got to work," I replied. "But I'll come down during my break if you don't mind me turning up a bit late." "Like, no problem," she beamed. "See you there!" I had an hour long lunch break at one and I wandered quickly through Acme forest and into the grounds of the Looniversity within ten minutes. It was raining hazily and I held an old black umbrella high as I walked, observing a thin rainbow which had just appeared in the western sky. There was quite a crowd gathered around the entrance by the time I arrived, Shirley standing at the top of the steps with her blue dress a distinct contrast to the grey stone statues that lay to either side of her. She was slightly sheltered beneath the Loo's entrance, a multi coloured umbrella resting by her side and a red megaphone clasped tightly in her right hand. It looked as if she was taking a brief rest after a long speech, an open and still steaming flask by her feet. Being a Saturday, the main doors of the Looniversity were locked, school out for the weekend. Near the top of the crowd I could see Buster and Babs, Hamton Pig and the green duck whose name I couldn't recall. As for the others, I recognised a few as being regular customers but for the most part, they were new faces to me. The crowd was pretty tightly packed, perhaps one hundred toons all chattering noisily amongst themselves. A few of them held umbrellas but for the most part their heads were naked to the drizzle. Shirley saw me approach and waved, smiling before lifting the megaphone to her bill. "See," her voice boomed. "Like, what did I tell you guys? We have plenty of human supporters too." "Where's the rest of them then?" shouted an angry looking Racoon from near the back of the crowd. I quickly glanced around, my stomach churning slightly as I realised that I was the only human there. "Well?" continued the Racoon. "Where are they?" "Like, they're out there... don't worry Clint." Despite her optimism, I could detect a slight hint of uneasiness in her voice. "Look," she continued. "If one human has turned up then it means that there must be more out there. Believe it or not, we're actually quite respected amongst the human community." "You sure about that?" shouted a female otter. "Why don't they let us vote then? Why not let us into highly paid jobs?" "The entertainment industry is one of the most highly paid jobs out there," replied Shirley. "Some of us have reached very high positions in the studio system. Just look at our tutors. Like, Bugs and Daffy are well known faces the world over." "Entertainment industry!" snapped the otter. "It's just a modern day version of those old nineteenth century freak shows. They just like us because we're different... because we can do things that they can't. Besides, toon actors have never earned as much as human actors and that's common knowledge. Even a famous toon working on a movie nowadays gets only 45% of what a human actor would." "Not true!" replied Shirley. "Almost all of our tutors here have been just as well paid as any human. We're a prized commodity... the kids love us." "Rare cases," exclaimed the otter. "95% of all toons are considerably underpaid and you know that!" "They keep us down because they're afraid of us!" shouted Clint the Racoon. "Because we can't get hurt like they can... they keep us down because inwardly they're jealous!" There was a loud mumble of approval from the crowd, Shirley lowering her megaphone and a distinctly worried look crossing her face. It seemed clear that she was loosing control of the gathering. "My mom applied for an office job about a month ago," shouted a young brown skunk. "They turned her down straight away... said they didn't believe a toon would be capable of making serious decisions." Shirley didn't reply, glancing towards me as if to apologise for the behaviour of her fellow students. "Like, I know our situation isn't perfect," she said finally, "and I know how you all must feel. But please don't let what's going on in Japan happen here kay. Together we can make a difference but we must achieve it by peaceful means." "I think our Japanese cousins have the right idea," shouted a vaguely familiar voice. "I say it's time we took our chance." I glanced towards the back of the crowd, eyes focusing in on the two small rats that stood together slightly removed from the other toons. I quickly recognised both of them, a couple of obnoxious brats who were occasional visitors to the ice cream parlour. I knew that the girl's name was Rhubella but I wasn't too sure of the guy. Robert or Roddy, I couldn't quite remember. "Who invited you two?" asked Shirley after a brief moment. "We invited ourselves," replied the male with a sinister grin. "Thought we'd take advantage of your little rally and do some recruiting." "Recruiting?" "Yes," he replied, turning to face the crowd. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Roderick Rat and this highly attractive and spoken for lady by my side is Rhubella Rat. We're both from that highly esteemed house of learning that is Perfecto Prep." There came a murmur and some muffled laugher from the crowd, particularly from Buster and Babs. "You might remember us from... um... the Acme Bowl incident where victory was unfairly snatched from our grasp," continued Roderick. "Well today my friends I am here to hopefully make peace with your slum of a school and turn our combined attention towards the real enemy... humanity." "Get back to Perfecto," shouted Buster. "We have a 'no looser' policy here you know." Roderick grinned another toothy grin. "You do realise that the humans want to stand on us forever don't you?" he replied. "They want to keep us down like dogs... like vermin." "Look who's talking!" laughed Babs, her and Buster descending into a fit of giggles. "Laugh all you like you dumb bunnies," said Rhubella. "But Roddy's right. We have to take our chance now." "That's right!" shouted Roderick. "So who's with me? Who'll join my 'Toon Power' organisation?" There came a long silence from the crowd, exchanged glances between friends. Shirley took two steps backward, shaking her head and raising her megaphone. "We can't let this descend into violence," she said shakily. "Please... we need to see sense here. A violent revolution is not the answer." "Yeah," shouted Buster. "Get a life Roddy." "Well you all know where to find me," continued Roderick. "If anyone wants to sign up with me then just come to Perfecto. I assure you that I can achieve a lot more than this spooky Loon girl here." The two rats walked swiftly away from the crowd, passing close by me. As they walked, Roderick glanced directly at me and smiled. "Your days are numbered human," he hissed. "Enjoy them while they last." Rhubella, holding his hand tightly, didn't even look towards me. Shirley was still wearing the blue dress when she arrived at the ice cream parlour just before closing time. "Like, I'm so sorry John," she said. "I really appreciated you turning up today but I didn't mean for you to feel threatened like that." "It's okay," I replied, wiping a cloth around the rim of a large bowl. "I suppose those rats were just angry... not really their fault." "That Roddy and Rhuby are bad news fer sure," she continued. "I should have suspected that they'd turn up." "Did anyone in your crowd show an interest in this Toon Power thing?" Shirley hesitated before speaking, as if trying to formulate her words so that the truth wouldn't hurt. "About thirty of them," she finally whispered. "Thirty!" "Like, I really tried to stop them John... I pleaded with them." There was genuine concern in her immense blue eyes. "But like.... but like, they just went anyway. I guess they figured I wasn't a strong enough figurehead. I mean, I totally tried to plead with them... tried to tell them that violence wouldn't achieve anything but-" "Look, it's not your fault," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I think the best thing we can do now is just hope this entire thing blows over. From what I hear those Perfecto Rats are their own worst enemy. I bet Roddy won't be able to organise that lot for a week. It'll all fall back in his face." "I know," she whispered. "But I can sense something coming - something bad. I knew a few of the toons that went over to Perfecto today, they weren't really friends but I knew them well. Monty went... I expected him to and of course, Elmyra followed. Harriet went too and I never expected that. Plucky wanted to but I talked him out of it. I think he came to his senses himself." "As they all will," I said. "With any luck this will all be over within a week." "Hi Shirl!" Babs had appeared at the door, eyes half hidden beneath a pair of star shaped sunglasses. "Me and Buster are heading over to Weenie Burgers. Wanna come Shirl? They reckon Dizzy's going to eat an entire set of Encyclopaedia Britannica." "Maybe later," she sighed. "I'm kind of tired after today." "Ahh don't worry about that Shirl. Roddy's just full of hot air." "Is he?" Shirley's expression grew serious, her eyes now betraying fear. "I don't know what to think Babs," she continued. "I just... I just don't know." "Common Shirl," smiled the pink bunny. "This Toon Power thing is just a load of Chushingura and you know that. Roddy organising a group like that? Can you just imagine it? That guy couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag." "It's not him I'm worried about," replied Shirley. "If he has ideas like that then others will too. It's bad karma Babs." "And that's why you're coming with me to Weenie Burgers now," exclaimed Babs. "You need to have some fun. Get these bad thoughts off your mind." "Kay," she said softly and with a faint trace of a smile. "Let's go see what Dizzy's up to tonight." Although she seemed happy enough as she walked away with Babs I could clearly tell that she was terrified within. "They'd probably do a better job of running the world that we have." Charlie was pulling down the shutters as he spoke, already wearing his thick brown jacket in anticipation of the cold night ahead. "You really think so?" I asked, breath steaming into the cold October evening. The street was pretty quiet, a few toons and humans gathered around Weenie Burgers on the opposite side of the road but no one else to be seen. "Just look at those kids from the Loo," he replied. "To them life is fun - a game almost. Toons take nothing seriously and why not? Taking things too seriously is probably one of the roots of all evil. I somehow can't imagine toons having the same kinds of wars that humans have fought over the centuries. Sure enough, they'd drop a few anvils on each other's heads but after that they'd probably shake hands and make up. No casualties... no grief. Well, no casualties other than broken pride perhaps." "Maybe you're right," I smiled. "When I was in school my friend Kyle was fascinated by toons. He was always telling me that he was convinced they had been put on the world for a reason. Maybe it's their destiny to inherit the Earth." "Wouldn't make any difference to us who's running the world," he grinned. "People are still going to want to eat ice cream." "I suppose so," I laughed. Sunday passed quietly enough, another toon gathering that had been planned in the Looniversity grounds cancelled due to the rain. I stayed indoors most of the time, eyes glued to live coverage from Japan. It seemed as if a compromise had been agreed with the toons there, a new campaign for equal rights promised by the government. All things seemed to indicate that the worst of the crisis had passed and as the day progressed it was reported that some humans were already starting to return to Tokyo. For the first time in days I began to feel reasonably secure. My mother phoned again that night, not quite as worried as she had been before and once again I assured her that nothing was going to happen. I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face, certain that the following week was going to be a bright one. When I woke up the next morning I found that the world had gone mad. Monday October 28th is a day that I, and certainly no human old enough to understand what was going on, will never forget. I didn't even switch on the tv when I first awoke, simply going straight for the kettle and making myself a cup of tea. I'd watched enough news over the past week to last me a lifetime and I was determined that this Monday would be a fresh start. It was almost eight thirty, an hour to go before the ice cream parlour was due to open and I relished the opportunity to take my time. I had always been the lazy type and my current lifestyle was an almost perfect situation for me. I was only five minutes walk from my workplace, something that I had striven for all my life. Maybe it wouldn't always be like this but I was determined to enjoy it while it lasted. It was only as I sat myself down with my breakfast that I began to notice a certain oddness in the air. There didn't seem to be much noise for a Monday morning, certainly not the usual rush hour madness. I glanced out the window out of sheer curiosity, eyes scanning a street that appeared mostly devoid of life. Going to the left hand side of the frame and extending my line of vision to cover the entire street, I saw a group of humans hurrying down the sidewalk with a large cardboard box held between them. They quickly vanished down an alleyway, a young child that had been lagging behind stumbling slightly before vanishing out of sight. I watched for about a minute, half expecting them to reappear but they never did. Then, hearing some babbling voices from my right I looked downward, noticing a group of toons gathering outside a still shuttered hardware store. There were about five of them in all, one of them talking to the others in what appeared to be a highly excited manner. From what I could tell they were all squirrels. One of them, the youngest it would seem, was crying. I looked slowly upwards, towards a gap in the buildings and the distant Looniversity clock tower that shimmered beyond the darkened haze of the Acme forest. I'm not sure why, but it was about then that the first chills began to run down my spine. Something had happened... I quickly turned on the tv, a misty image appearing that took me a few seconds to decipher. Paris? It was the upper portion of the Eiffel Tower, a large blue flag fluttering from the highest point. It was too far from the camera to make out much detail but there appeared to be a symbol printed on it, the outline of a hand. "There it is," said a sullen voiced newscaster. "The four fingered symbol that has become increasingly familiar to Parisians of late - Le Neuf's design we believe. Hoisted there this morning by his followers after a seven hour revolution that began in the early part of this morning. It's now believed that he ordered this immediately following the arrest in Tokyo of the nine toons responsible for last week's disturbances." The picture cut to what appeared to be a taped interview with a brown furred skunk, a distinguished looking individual in shirt and tie. He stared directly at the camera, not threatening but decidedly firm. "The subjugation of the toon race is no longer acceptable in today's society," he said. "For far too long have the humans had the upper hand. Well... this is a situation that can no longer be tolerated. This latest betrayal of our Japanese cousins was a step too far, a folly that mankind will soon come to regret. We are no longer the figures of fun that you once considered us to be, no longer prepared to hide in the shadows. Toons are an ancient and proud species, a species that mankind robbed of it's dignity during the nineteenth century. This ends now. I have more than five thousand followers in Northern France alone and we have no intentions of giving up this city. Life will go on as normal but from now on us toons will be equal. I once again assure you that no humans have been harmed. It is quite true that we are holding several members of government prisoner but this is only a temporary situation. As I speak a new government is rapidly being formed, one that shall be far more representative of our world. Remember this... you cannot harm us. You cannot touch us. We are physically superior to you in every way." I stood away from the tv and held my hands to my head, refusing to believe what I was hearing. Like everyone else, I'd heard of Jean Le Neuf and his ideas before but I had never expected his group to seize power like this. His organisation had members all over Western Europe, skunks mostly as they predominated in the region. If they had all gathered together to organise this then there was no telling just how widespread the effected area was. And no doubt similar groups in the US were already following their example. Le Neuf was a great believer in toon superiority but at the same time he was still compassionate towards humans, refusing to use violence against them. But would other potential toon revolutionaries have the same attitude? Roderick Rat? Would he even think twice about reducing mankind to the level of vermin? "Your days are numbered human," he had told me. How close to the truth was he? CHAPTER THREE: THE CHANGING OF THE GUARDS From then on things seemed to move swiftly. Le Neuf and his followers managed to seal off Paris from the rest of the world within the space of a mere twenty four hours and from time to time he would appear on tv, always assuring us that no humans had been harmed but at the same time repeating his call for change. By the second day he was declaring that all world governments should be composed of a minimum of 50% toons. He was probably right of course, but many commentators feared that his demands would grow in time. What would he be demanding next they asked? 75% toons? 100% toons? It was suggested that the French army might flood the city with a sedative gas, knock the toons unconscious and then round them all up. It was a plan that was quickly forgotten after concerns were raised about the safety of the human inhabitants. Weaponry of any shape or size was more or less out of the question. Any attempt at bombing the city would simply result in human casualties and the toons would be more or less unharmed. Not only that, but it seemed that amongst the army's ranks there was a certain sympathy for the toons and their struggle. From what little information was escaping the region, it appeared that there were now over 4000 toons in the city, at least seventy percent of them skunks. There were also reports of similar incidents in Berlin, Milan and Prague. At 4pm on October 31st, it was announced that humans were evacuating London. All details from Europe were getting sketchier by the day, no information confirmed as most journalists were constantly on the move from area to area in a hunt for fresh news. Moscow suffered it's first toon riot in the early hours of November 1st, another breaking out in Oslo just four hours later. It was estimated that the world's entire toon population numbered perhaps 25 million, an extremely large number but still pretty small in comparison with six billion humans. But regardless of the figures, Le Neuf was right. Toons were physically superior to us in every way. They were both stronger and faster, practically immortal and incapable of receiving serious injury. The very fact that something like this hadn't happened before was incredible. As the days passed, more and more people fled Acme Acres for the apparent safety of the countryside. The Looniversity seemed to mostly close down during this time and there was much speculation as to the allegiances of the tutors. Pepe Le Pew left for France on the 3rd and from what little information I could get from Babs, it seemed that he was determined to get into Paris to see his family. Both Bugs and Daffy seemed to vanish overnight and it was wildly suspected that they had both gone into hiding. The same was suspected of Fudd and Foghorn, both of whom disappeared soon afterwards. Porky remained though, and from what I had been told, he was staying on at the Loo and trying to keep a number of music classes going despite the chaos. Needless to say, not a lot of students were turning up. I saw him in town a couple of times, walking the streets with an oddly sullen look. I even saw a human spit at him, shouted obscenities filling the air as the once highly regarded pig simply cast his eyes downward. Both Babs and Shirley were extremely worried for the safety of their pal Fifi, speaking of her quite often. Fifi's family had a home just outside Paris but it wasn't known if she'd been there at the time of Le Neuf's take-over or not. It was possible that she had been at her family's summer residence in the south of France at the time, but as very little communication was getting in or out of the area they couldn't know for sure. All they could do now was comfort each other and pray for the best. With the Loo temporarily closed, the toons were spending most of their days in town and there would always be a large number of them in the ice cream parlour at all hours. The amount of human customers seemed to dwindle as the days went on, more and more of them evacuating Acme Acres for safer pastures. Charlie asked me several times if I wanted to go too, assuring me that if the crisis passed without incident I could have my job back. I always refused though. What was the point? You couldn't escape the toons no matter how far you ran. By November 6th, North America was the only continent where toon unrest had yet to take hold. Australia had been hit on the 4th, most of the trouble stemming from the small island of Tasmania in the south. Within a few hours there were disturbances in Melbourne and soon afterwards, across the ocean in New Zealand. It seemed as if the whole world had finally gone mad. Much of Western Europe was now in total disarray, France almost under complete control of the skunks and the British Isles in apparent chaos. No news at all was coming out of Japan and there were even rumours ( later found to be false )that Moscow was in flames. I thought about my mother a lot during this time and tried to phone her whenever I got a chance The lines had become very bad lately however, the phone constantly going dead while I was in mid conversation. The last I heard from her was that there had been a couple of small toon riots in Dublin, another in Belfast. Despite this, she told me that life was going on much as normal, a sense of dread hanging over the daily proceedings perhaps, but things going more or less the same as they always had. After that particular conversation the phone went dead and I was unable to re- establish a connection no matter how hard I tried. I too, could now only pray for the best. It was now generally assumed that if and when toon unrest was going to break out in the United States, it would be centred around Acme Acres. Given the high concentration of young toons it was considered an inevitable hotspot of adolescent rebellion. This in mind, it came as a great surprise that when trouble finally broke out in the States it was not in Acme Acres but in Detroit. This incident was organised by a squirrel called Conrad and involved a group of perhaps 75 toons or more, a mixture of cats and rabbits mostly. It began in the early hours of the 8th and lasted until well into the afternoon, by which time the authorities were already admitting defeat. This was followed soon afterwards by a considerably larger group of toons taking to the streets of Washington. There were 400 of them according to reports, although it was pretty hard to tell the exact number as by that stage information was only getting out in dribbles. And then, quite without warning, Acme Acres was finally hit on the 9th. I awoke to sounds of shouting from outside, eyes opening wide to the reflections of what looked like torch light dancing across the ceiling. Staggering out of bed I lunged towards the window, squinting through a tiny gap in the curtains. The first thing that struck me was the darkness. Aside from a few glimmering stars there was little to no light to be seen, all the street lamps darkened. A blackout? Just a little way up the street I saw the origin of the torch light, a group of humans running along the road carrying flashlights. They seemed to be carrying something between them but I couldn't make out what it was. From somewhere in the distance I could hear the wailing of several dozen car alarms, a dog barking beyond the houses on the opposite side of the street. In the distance, the Looniversity clocktower was dimly visible as a jet black outline against the starry sky. Somewhere, perhaps from much closer than I dared to imagine, I heard the crack of a rifle. A new age had dawned, and the world would never be the same again. To Be Continued...