Two rings. Three. The scenery is a blur. Four rings. Five. A fence gives way like toilet paper in the dark. A dog is swatted away like a fly and voices are raised in alarm. Clumsy. But necessary. Shadows pursue him, flashing just feet behind. Running at full speed. The ground gives way like soft powder as he pours on the speed. The guards were not anticipated. He wasn’t sure how they knew, or where they found so many in such a short time span. It didn’t matter. Target couldn’t be acquired, so rules were clear. Abandon the effort. Regroup. Find a new target of opportunity. Slink wasn’t answering. He always picked up on the third. A beep. The line picks up as a flash bang sails past his head. A quick swipe and it flies back in the face of the toon that threw it, stunning him long enough to widen the gap. It wouldn’t last.

The voice on the line gives him pause. ‘Compromised. No need for a phone any longer.’ He released it into the wind, sailing backward as doppler effect caused Bugs’s shrill “Ehhh.” to fade. A cinder block wall. Shoulder in, pour on more speed. It provided minimal resistance, but minimal was enough. They’re gaining again. Duck through an alley. Left, straight, right, left again, leap across a traffic snarled street. Approaching a shop front. Tuck! He rolls as he crashes through the front window, pops back onto his feet without missing a beat. It’s likely they are waiting out back.

Reaching into his hammer space he pulls out a mallet, extending the arm behind him he grunts with effort, arm bending in an arc with the force of his throw. It’s little more than an anvil on a thick metal rod, but it will suffice. It explodes from his hand like a bullet, barely missing a human as the back of the shop explodes in a shower of dust and brick. He explodes through the cloud at full speed, concrete giving way under his initial kick off. He feels the air pressure before he sees it. A mallet head. Throwing his self to his knees, he slides under it. It eats momentum though, slowing his escape. Rolling a shoulder forward he dodged another aimed straight down. The debris created by it’s impact peppering his back as he springs back to his feet and pushes off hard again.

They are relentless. Femtosecond reactions launch them after him with equal haste. He needs a distraction, something to give his self a window to escape. But to where? ‘There.’ This would require exact timing. Fifteen steps at his current speed. Counting them off in his head he reached into his hammer space, pulling out several smoke grenades, pulling the pens on all of them. He dropped the first as it sputtered and exploded inches behind him in an opaque brown cloud. ‘Ten.’ He tossed the second a foot in front of him, bullying through it’s concussive blast.’Six.’ The third grenade dropped as he approached the next busy street, tossed to the far side, while his spare hand reached back producing a sizable pile of caltrops, dropping them behind him. ‘Four.’ the final grenade exploded on his intended target. ‘One.’ A quick motion was all it took to tilt the manhole cover on it’s side and slip underneath, his body stretching out into a string as wide as spaghetti. The sound of the cover righting it’s self was minimal. ‘No time to stop yet.’

As fast as he could he made his way through the tunnels to the far end of the block, took a blind turn and went another three, changing direction each time before he dares stop to peek out of a storm drain. A tree line. Another residential neighborhood. Squeezing through the drain, he vanished into the tree line, spinning into a new costume before willing his self to walk casually down the sidewalk appearing as normal foot traffic in the mixed species community Burbank had become. ‘This is all their fault. If it weren’t for them, father would be free now. And now because of them the town is crawling with council, and other worse things that keep all other avenues closed.’ He knew better than to let his self be emotionally compromised. But it had gone way past personal. They must be made accountable. It wasn’t the wise play. But wisdom was of no profit. He was certain he could handle them. Decision made, he began to devise the minutiae of his plan. Sometimes straight forward was the only direction you could go.

-----
“Nnngh. Not fair.” Yakko whimpered as his alarm clock rang. He had hardly slept at all last night. He forgot how lonely an empty bed could feel. He didn’t always share a bed with Dee, and last night had been one such occasion. He had needy siblings too, and last night Psykko preemptively asked if he could sleep with him. Which, while adorable, left Yakko the odd man out. He didn’t begrudge him quality time with his brother, it just reminded him how he had come to rely on Dee to be his anchor when the anxiety and existential crisis crept in. He was, despite his own traumas, a calming influence on Yakko. Even when they were “together”. Especially when they were together. He didn’t know when he had become so used to it, and the revelation was somewhat alarming, in that what was supposed to not be a serious committed relationship was growing increasingly both of those things. But then he would remember the feeling of laying his head on Dee’s chest and listening to his breath as he slowly came to consciousness in the morning, the silky texture of his fur, the feeling of being entangled in his limbs and how it felt like both a protective gesture and a desperate one.

‘Yeah. It’s getting serious. Shit.’ He thought as he rolled out of bed, completely nude. Yet another habit he had learned since they started. Clothes got in the way during...things...and over time it just became easier and more comfortable than underwear or pajamas. There were drawbacks though. And they were apparent as he looked down, rubbing the sleep form his eyes. ‘Well one of us is awake at least.’ Confirming with a quick ear to the door that he was, as usual, the first one of his trio awake, he stalked naked to the bathroom, taking care of the necessities and taking a quick shower, before he emerged clothed to get started on breakfast. The others would be awake soon and Wakko got punchy when he didn’t eat.

Peg was the next one up, not even bothering to hide her nudity, as she rubbed an eye, waving on the way to the bathroom. ‘Jeez, she sure is Dee’s sister. They don’t do anything small, do they?’ Close living and reliance on shared resources had long ago taught those three that shame is a luxury. Besides, she was proud of her body, and in Yakko’s opinion, had much to be proud of in that respect. She had Dee’s strength with Psykko’s agility, plus a dancers grace that gave her movements a fluid quality many found alluring. 

He didn’t mind their odd privacy issues anymore really, well not as it applied to his self. He had been scandalized at first heavens knew, but he could see the reasoning behind it. And he wasn’t about to start lecturing them on something so petty when bigger concerns loomed. Life is too short to get worked up over the occasional bare penis. Even if they did sometimes make him feel inadequate.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, still naked, though fortunately no longer at full mast, he had the beginnings of a mountain of pancakes and scrambled eggs piled up. There were sausage patties as well, and enough hash browns to alleviate the Irish potato famine. It was nether cheap or easy keeping any number of toons fed, but this was all on the studio’s dime, so he had no qualms about cooking more than they needed.

Peg took the opportunity to snitch a sausage, kissing his cheek before he shooed her off. “No stealing the meat till yours is covered young lady.” He waggled a wooden spatula at her. “Get some clothes on before you make Dot jealous.”

Peg barked in laughter as she swatted him on the ass turning to head to her room. “Heh! Her? Or you? Don’t worry, Dee has nothing but good things to say about it, I’m sure you’re fine.”

“Ow! Hey! Easy on the goods sister, you break it Dee will have a fit.” Peg waved wordlessly over her shoulder, stuffing the sausage in her mouth before she vanished down the hall, in all her slinky lean glory. “Try not to smack it into any walls or door frames on your way!” He called after her. She was a perfectly beautiful young woman, aesthetically a perfect match for him, but still far too violent for Yakko’s taste. Between Slappy and Dot’s influence those tendencies had not lessened, simply become more focused and playful. At least she wasn’t assaulting the humans on the lot in ways that resulted in stitches or hospitalization.

Though the last time an actor hit on her she still put him on his back. Just that this time, instead of beating him black blue and red, she sat on his chest and slapped him in the face with her dick till security could haul him off, claiming to be more woman than he could handle and more man than he could take. No one had bothered her since. She of course thought it was hilarious, and honestly Yakko had to agree. Once she had learned to stop taking them so seriously and allowed herself to have fun at their expense the constant jeers stopped getting under her skin.

It wasn’t long after her return to her room that others started filtering in. Wakko first, roused by the promise of carbs and grease. Then Dot, Dee, and Psykko who he carried in his arms, still mostly asleep, which was precious. Yakko took the rare opportunity to kiss the side of the boys muzzle stirring him awake with affection and food, Wakko was already digging into his pile before anyone else by that time. Then Peg soon returned, thankfully dressed, and began helping him portion out food. She pushed him into a chair, making sure he had food before she ate. He was learning she was, at her core, a care taker, and food was one of the ways she did it. If he had any worries about her eating last though, he needn’t have. The stack of pancakes she came to the table with rivaled Wakko’s and earned her a wide smile from him as she dug in.

Yakko and Psykko ate relatively modestly, but the rest of the table was neigh vulgar as an obscene amount of food was packed away.

-----

“We have a later shift than normal.” Peg flipped through the pages of their itinerary.

“They want to keep us hidden so people don’t connect any fall out from this to us.” Psykko replied, leaning on her looking through the same notes. “See, our hours are shorter too.”

“Just means we have to do more, faster.” Dee leaned back in his chair. “Under duress. I would like to see these dumb asses try to completely re record the entire discography of Ella Fitzgerald, pitch perfect, in six hours while someone is gunning for them.”

“Oh yeah we had her today. Who’s doing vocals this time?” Peg mused.

“Probably you.” Psykko answered the obvious. “My voice is too high, and Dee can do it but he has a slight tell on descending notes. You’ve always done a better Ella anyway. But we can’t do an entire big band in that time plus sing and mix. So who is filling in?”

“That’ll be us!” Wakko popped up behind Dee, resting his chin on the taller toon’s shoulder, earning a gentle pet in the process. “We can do all the brass band bits, and Yakko knows enough about production to fill on while you’re playing. But we need to go soon if we’re gonna have enough time.”

Since the start of all this the studio has taken a much more cautious approach about the movements of, not just them, but anyone on the lot. Security had quadrupled, the staff swelling to almost two hundred, which might be reassuring if they had vetted each member. By necessity many of them were toons, and while that kept the humans out of danger it also provided a window all of them were wary of getting close to. Once those concerns were voiced it was decided that only humans would escort them from one building to the next, and each step would be planned carefully to minimize exposure. It seemed on the face of it excessive, but one look at the news told a different story.

“-at nine pm last night. Authorities stated that while no one was seriously injured, property damage was extreme. No footage exists of the assailant despite the presence of surveillance cameras, but eye witnesses indicate that it was a toon, pursued by others. The Toon Council had no comment.”

Footage showed a trail of destruction ending at a nail salon that had been nearly gutted as the chase had passed through it uninterrupted. Bugs must be pulling his ears off by now. This was way more public than he wanted it to be, and Daffy was no doubt rubbing it in that nothing this bad happened under his administrations. ‘Probably because no one wanted his flaky ass involved.’ Yakko thought. And once Bugs was out, if this problem hadn’t been resolved it would only worsen. This toon of David’s didn’t give a damn about innocent bystanders, and it’s only a matter of time before he gets someone killed. ‘Well. Not our fight.’ He already has enough people on this, and being out in the open would only make them bait at best. A liability at worst. And Yakko wanted this ended as fast as possible.

The others filtered into the living room as the clock ticked down and Yakko’s cell phone rang. It was their escort. Toons this time. Great. They hurried to finish last minute preparations, putting on a less grim facade before hauling the giant metal door open, stepping out into the harsh LA sun.

-----

“Here’s your uniform. Just make sure you keep your radio tuned to this frequency, stick with your partner, and keep your eyes peeled.” He smiled tightly and nodded as he donned his wb security uniform, a simple blue and gold affair that hearkened back to uniforms worn by lot security in the golden age of Hollywood. Examining his self in the mirror he sneered at the blue and gold shield on his shoulder. The sooner he could rip the rent-a-cop monkey suit off the better. But right now it was his best in.

When the call had gone out to toon enclaves in Burbank he could hardly have believed his luck. Wb was vastly expanding their security profile to keep out...well...him. Qualifications were minimal, and most of the toons it attracted had been bouncers, boxers, typical over sized tough guys that for all their impressive mass were slow dull witted and naive. Someone like his self, shifty quick witted and fast must have appeared to them as a perfect compliment to their apparent brawn. Stupid humans. Always judging by appearances. He was less than half the size of most of these apes and he could still do everything they could and then some.

It didn’t matter. Their folly was his gain. He would slip in, flatten the Warners, bomb the executive offices, burn the lot to the ground and be gone before anyone realized anything was amiss. And in that order. Those traitors were his priority. No self respecting toon sells out their creator. Or agrees to slave for the people that did their creator in. He would make them watch as he took everything out from under them, and did the job they should have. Then he could spring David from wherever they were holding him and reunite with all his real kids. He didn’t know what would come after. He didn’t care. All that mattered right now was balancing the scale. And to do that all he needed was a fake smile and a security key card. Both were trifles really. But everything to this point had been. Why had David fretted so much over these Warner’s any way? He was ten times the toon they were. Sure he had been made a few times, and sure his last escape had been more destructive than he intended, but they were just going to do all that anyway. And no one had been anything approaching fast enough to catch him without stopping every nanosecond to minimize danger to bystanders. They couldn’t catch him, they couldn’t stop him, and as he passed through the employees gate along with the group of other hastily gathered toon security he smiled at the thought that soon enough they wouldn’t beat him ether.

He had to suppress a bark of laughter as they paired him off, as they had with all the other toons, with a wide shouldered moose toon. The dour looking slab had to be eight feet tall at the antlers and so wide he had to turn sideways and duck to fit through doors. Even then it was a tight squeeze. Who the hell designed this guy? He could run circles around him and still knock him on his ass if he had to. Lady luck must really be on his side today.

First thing’s first. Get a lay of the land. Patrols moved in counter rotating and overlapping circles, covering every entrance and exit. All the maintenance buildings were covered by at least one human guard, who to him looked about as foreboding as wet toilet paper, and equipment and supplies were being locked behind steel cages, only released to personnel who presented a work order and signed out for the exact quantity they needed. ‘Ok that’s smart. Looks like whoever planned this out thought of everything. But it won’t be enough.’

In his head he did the math. Ten seconds across the lot, smash the Warner’s into a crater, another ten back to the maintenance building, three seconds to whip up something flammable enough to do the job, fifteen seconds to smash the execs and burn down the building with them in it. Maybe an hour after that to do the rest. All he needed was a window. And for that he had his radio. The big dumb moose wasn’t an obstacle. For him it must have appeared that he simply took the job seriously, noting every update that came through.

-----
“Assets out. Escorting in ten. Make sure the sound stage is clear, and keep traffic on the way to a minimum.” The guard spoke into the radio pinned to his shoulder as all six Warner’s emerged from the elevator. These were always tense moments for him. Before this he had been a body guard for one of the wealthier toons in Toon Town, and never did get used to just how exposed it felt when someone he was charged to protect stood out in the open. He had to get things moving along quickly.

He motioned to the bouncer to his left to open the car, and moved to usher them in when he heard a sound that made his stomach turn. The six toons froze in place, a curious change coming over three of them as one of the youngest twitched an ear. “He’s coming.”

-----
‘Fools! Absolute empty headed moronic thumb sucking fools! You couldn’t even bother to code your transmissions? You lot deserve to get your asses handed to you!’ The very second the message had gone out he fixed his gaze on the water tower, visible from anywhere in the lot really, and bolted for it at such a speed that the asphalt gave way underfoot and pelted his, ugh, partner with the debris. It had proven distraction enough to give him the lead he needed. Three nanoseconds was more than enough, but that ignoramoose gave him a whole half second! Slow! Dumb! Moose! He didn’t even bother going around the buildings in his way, simply increasing his speed and shouldering in so he plowed through one side and out the other.
The shortest distance between two points was a straight line after all. And no one could stop him anyway so why not dispense with subtly? Five seconds. Though the scenery blurred past he felt like it took an eternity. People screamed. Walls exploded out like cardboard. High velocity debris smashed cars and scattered crowds. A human went down, head erupting red as a tiny chunk of cinder block clipped his temple. Weak. Slow.

Scenery changed again. Inside an office now. A shower of glass. A human flying through the air up and over him as a quick scooping motion sent them sailing out of his way. Another wall exploding out of his way. Nine seconds. He reached into his hammer space, closing his fingers around a thick metal shaft as he slid to a halt in front of the tower, his mallet sliding smoothly from it to clang onto the ground, little more than a steel anvil with a three inch thick metal pole stuck through it. It was nether subtle, nor graceful, but in this moment it didn’t matter. He locked eyes with them. And his vision went red. Everyone on the lot heard his scream as feet dug into the ground and he kicked off.

-----
“He’s coming.” No sooner had the younger Warner said it than the escort turned to the sound of exploding brick and concrete, a scrabble of rock and dust only briefly obscuring him. He looked...sick. A rabbit? Maybe? Some kind of hybrid. Long pointed buck teeth combined with fangs, claws, and a long cat like tail roared loud enough to break glass, vibrant emerald eyes nearly glowing with hatred as it dug it’s feet into the ground and launched it’s self at them, trailing what he was sure it might have thought was a mallet, but only in the loosest terms.

He felt like the world kicked into slow motion as he spun to give orders, his own much more elegant mallet sliding from his hammer space along with a flash bang. The others moved, but too slowly. He would be on them in nanoseconds, and they would barely have turned to receive him. ‘Shit. Shit!’ “Run!” He shouted over his shoulder. But as he looked behind him only three remained. A shadow passed in front of his eyes so quickly it seemed to be in real time. His head barely whipped around in time to see what it was.

-----

Without uttering a word the three moved. This guy was fast, Dee would grant him that, but compared to Psykko he may as well be moving in slow motion. As he watched his little brother he could barely follow his movements his self. He timed his attack to coordinate with the smaller more agile Warner’s.

The toon, whatever the fuck he was, came up short on his sprint, not expecting to be attacked, though willing to reciprocate. As his foot planted, it dug into the ground and he shifted his body to swing the mass he was trailing around him. ‘Good plan. But too slow.’ Psykko thought as reality jumped. He was beside him now, his claws out, fangs bared as the metal rod of the toon’s mallet met them, and yielded. His bite sailed through the material like butter, severed at the toons hand, sending the functioning end of it spinning into the car that was supposed to be their ride, folding the vehicle in half, but catching the projectile in the process. His momentum carried him in a straight line across the toon’s front, as he dragged his claws across his eyes in the same motion, blinding him to what came next. ‘Your turn.’

Dee was on the guy nearly as fast as his brother was, one hand on the rod Psykko so neatly clipped in two, pinning his hand while the other balled up in a fist, and flashed. If anyone could have counted the number of times he punched this guy in his shit in that fraction of a second it would surely have been in the triple digits. The force of them further blinded him and pushed his lead foot further into the ground, pinning it up to the knee in dirt and asphalt as he sailed past, yanking the toons arms up over his head.
The rod flew out of them as Dee’s feet met the ground, the earth shaking under them as his sister made contact.

‘Time to earn your keep mister stump!’ Finally. A conflict she could sink her teeth into. Finally! Something to hit! FINALLY! Psykko and Dee had done a masterful job disarming and pinning the guy, but in all honesty they needn’t have. He was slow and clumsy by her standards, and judging by the way he reacted to them he must have thought he was hot shit. Of all the things to gift her with, David really had given her everything she could possibly want in a target. An arrogant ineffectual prick threatening her family!? ‘Oh I think not! Time you and gravity got acquainted friend!’ 

Impressive as he must have thought his anvil on a stick was, it paled both in surface area and weight to the literal oak tree stump on a branch Peg lovingly termed “Mister Stump”. Nothing it met stayed in the same shape it started out as for long. Going back to when she first made it even, her prototype managed to fold a bus in half. And she could swing it like it was a feather. She had always been the most violent of the three, and the shortest tempered. So when rare opportunities to frenzy like this came up she relished in it. And they were so rare. Everyone and everything else was so delicate, so slow, but this guy, this guy could take it. And he would. All of it. All the anguish angst and rage of the last year focused into the end of her hammer as it met him, and nailed him into a crater. And she didn’t stop there. It wasn’t enough to be incapacitated. He had to know. He had to understand, the very depth of his stupidity. So she kept swinging, throwing her entire weight into it, screaming a string of obscenities that you could hear from Anaheim. 

‘Why are we even...here?’ The body guard shook in his shoes as he witnessed the most brutal efficient take down he had ever seen a toon subjected to. She was still screaming, cursing some guy named David, and cussing this toon, who was by now a thick paste at the bottom of a growing crater. The others stood there for, it felt like minutes, but it couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds, before the tallest one spoke.

“Peg.” His voice was firm but still soft as she looked at him with a snarl, the picture of feral rage. “It’s ok. You got em. Let them have what’s left.” He jerked his head toward the body guard, who swallowed hard as she turned red eyed on him. ‘Were her fangs always that long?’ She looked back to Dee, then the crater her hammer still sat on, and back to him before raising her hammer once more and with a snarl getting one last ground shaking blow in. “rrrRRFine!” 

Taking a deep breath she seemed to relax as she dragged the hammer out of the crater, really grinding it into the toon underneath before she slipped it back in her hammer space. She steadied herself as time seemed to resume and the guard willed his heart to stop beating in his ears. 

“He’s all yours.” She huffed, looking over the edge of the crater. “What’s left of him.”

-----

“Right. Thanks doc. Yeah. Be seein you.” Bugs ended the call and slid his phone back in his hammer space as he resumed, looking down at the bruised and battered toon in the concrete pit he now rested in.

“Ya know, if you would just call off this grudge of yours we could reduce your sentence to a regular prison. You would be out again in a couple decades on good behavior.”

The sound that gurgled up out of the beaten toons throat made Bug’s stomach turn. “uUghhfffuck you.”
“Suit yourself doc.” He shrugged flippantly before turning to the guards. “Bury em.” 

Pumps whirred to life as a steel cage was lowered into the pit, leaving only enough space in the center for the toon to curl up into a ball, lest he be crushed under it. A heavy cloth hose positioned it’s self over the pit shortly thereafter, the heavy gravelly sound of liquid concrete rushing down it’s length to fill the small space as the toon screamed death threats from his tiny space. It wasn’t long till those screams turned to gurgles, and eventually only the sound of the heavy substance filling the space remained. A final steel plate was then lowered over the hole to cap it off.

It would be centuries before he got out of there. Maybe millennia. And a lot of very specific ifs would have to occur before even that was a possibility. By then, Bugs suspected, this entire hole would be filled. Eternity was a long time, and the Vault was already on it’s third layer.

He made a mental note to bring up the possibility of a second vault. Perhaps this time in a mountain under northern Alaska. Or perhaps Antarctica like they had originally planned. Lack of funding and technology at the time had necessitated putting this one under a mountain in Nevada. It was the nearest geologically stable place they could find, but it was far too close to inhabited settlements for his tastes. He was actually considering offering the top two layers to the state department to dispose of radioactive waste. Maybe that would ward off any potential meddlers and keep these maroons right where they are a few centuries longer.

Observing the last of the sealing ritual constituted his last official duty as head of the council. So as the final bolt was turned he wasted no time in making his way with his entourage to the filthy safety yellow elevator back to the top of the three hundred foot vertical hole that constituted the toon maximum security prison complex known as The Vault. He hoped he would never have to see the inside of it again.

-----
‘God bless days off!’ Yakko thought as Dee rocked his body, his heavy breath hot on his neck as fangs grazed along the tender flesh. Yakko’s eyes rolled back as each movement made colors dance behind his eyelids and electricity snake up and down his body. He clung to him, arms legs and tail entangled around Dee, holding on for dear life as for the tenth time that day he fucked Yakko’s ever loving brains out. There was simply no more poetic way to put it. There had been lovemaking sure, but the second he told Dee to stop holding back, all that had gone out the window faster than if Peg had drop kicked it.

Their union grew to a fever pitch, again, as both finally released, again, with such force that a distant part of Yakko worried that the sound proofing hadn’t been enough. Since that toon’s arrest Dee had been coiled up tight and afraid. Not of them, but afraid of what they would think of them. It was the first time any of them had ever let anyone see what David had truly made of them. And they all bore it as a scarlet letter. Ashamed of what they were capable of. Even Peg, who usually reveled in it had grown to hate the look of uncertainty and even fear people gave them all now. It made them feel different. Wrong. Which brings them to here and now.

He certainly couldn’t do this with all of them though. He doubted he would survive Pegs stress release, even if he was her type. Though he had encouraged her to find a partner that was. It was high time she learned there was more to life than waiting for the next disaster to rage at. Psykko needed a different outlet though. One for which Wakko was specially qualified to provide. Much to the dismay of the lot executives, and anyone who took pride in their job as an upholsterer of fine limousines. Plotz would never get the pee smell out of his.
Things were still unsettled. But at least this latest debacle was. And as Dee slowly caught his breath over him he had to think that time would come sooner rather than later. He kissed along Dee’s neck gently as he slowly dragged his claws up and down his back eliciting a shiver that made him grin.

“So.” He whispered in his ear lustily. “Another round?” It was going to be a long day. Night. Week. Yakko didn’t know yet, but he would take it as far as he could.