by A. J. Mayall
“Now, vhen I hit your bad knee, I vant you to tell me vhat you’re thinking. If you do it right, I will give you some pie.”
“Barry, this doesn’t make any—”
He hit my left knee with a hammer. I screamed, but my leg reacted as if it were actually hit with a reflex hammer. It swung up, hit the pie, slammed it into Barry’s face, and the pain was gone.
I grinned and said, “Do it again, do it again! Other side!”
He shook his head and gave me a stage whisper. “Now, son, you know if you do a joke twice in a row, it’s only half as funny. That’s why, for a sequel, you always have to go bigger.”
That’s when he produced a large, wooden mallet, raised it over his head, and I braced myself for even more pain. He paused, producing a marker, and wrote “Rx” on the side.
“Now it’s time for your medicine!” He hit me in the goddamn knee. It hurt like a son of a bitch, and then it didn’t.
I stood and winced. My groin was still a bed of agony.
“Don’t vorry about that. Ve have just the thing.” He grabbed me and pulled me through the house to the bathroom. “I alvays tell my patients who complain about problems in that…area that they need a good, cold shower.”
He tossed me into the bathtub and turned the water all the way to the right where it said cold, colder, coldest, then spun it around a few more times until a small flag popped up that simply said “Margaret Thatcher, bikini model.”
He flipped on the button to turn the faucet to send water up to the showerhead and, I shit you not, within half a second, I was buried under about a ton of ice cubes. Let it be known that I do not handle the cold that well.
I sputtered and crawled out, soaking wet and shivering. My skin was actually blue instead of orange! I breathed in, taking in some hot air, and exhaled; all of the blue popped out of me, forming a frosty version of myself which waved and vanished.
Barry blinked at that and screamed, “Oh, no!”
Betty came in. “What’s wrong?”
“He responded with a gag. It was minor, very minor, but—”
I went wide-eyed. “All this time, trying to escape the pain and resist the gags…and it was actually having the pain go away that took down my guard.” I sighed and continued, “Thanks. I kinda need to get back to my place.”
Barry nodded. “I don’t know what to tell you, but if you get hurt in any way, you come see me immediately. I have no problem doing a Dr. Badgerson show for you if it helps you out.”
Betty walked up and hugged me, then grabbed my cheeks. That’s when I realized something kinda odd; I never really noticed how short I was. When they pulled me in, I was looking up at them because I was crawling on the floor.
Now that I was standing up, I should have been freaking out over our being the same size, but it felt natural. This must mean the part of my humanity I lost was insecurity about my new shape.
“Uh, where do I get pants?”
“Huh? You’re G-rated; you don’t need pants.”
“I know that and you know that, but—”
Betty patted him on the shoulder. “Human habit.”
Barry looked at me and nodded. “Here’s the thing. Yes, there are some G-rated toons that wear pants, but most of them don’t for a reason: they’re G-rated.”
“I get that, but—”
“Higher ratings…” he twiddled his thumbs for a moment, “need to wear pants. Not because they want to, but because—”
I went wide-eyed. “Oh, they’re anatomically correct.”
The two badgers nodded in unison.
“And I am not.”
They nodded again.
“Which means if I go around wearing a shirt and pants…”
Barry piped up, “Outside of a gag. When performing a gag, costumes are completely acceptable.”
“Okay, barring that, I’m just going to have to walk around naked.? Between the bowtie and the fancy shoes, I look like a Chippendale’s dancer in this getup!”
Barry crossed his arms. “Hey, now. I don’t wear pants; do you call me a freakin’ exhibitionist?”
“Well, no, but you’re a toon.”
“Same as you. No one’s going to notice.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I’m walking around naked, and—”
“And no one will notice. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself right now. Blend in. You’re in the perfect neighborhood for this. Now, I’ll talk to the church group and—”
I stopped for a moment. “You two go to church?”
“Yeah, but—”
“I’ve never ever heard you talk about going to church. Wait…toons have church?!”
That’s when Betty reached forward and grabbed me by the muzzle. “Shh! We don’t talk about it with humans. Just go with it. We’ll explain things as they come up and help you however we can.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, nodding, trying to make sense of it all. “I need to sleep and figure out what the hell is going on in my life.”
I shook myself, making sure that I wasn’t feeling any pains here or there while also making sure I literally wasn’t shaking off any residual injuries.
No sooner had I unlocked the door and stepped inside than I heard a buzzing from the bag.
Oh, God…my date with Kyle.
I opened the bag and pulled out the phone. Sure enough, he was calling and had sent several text messages. It was a cruel thing to do, but I swiped it to voicemail. This was too much for me to deal with, so how the hell could I expect him to, let alone believe it?
My clothes got tossed in the bathtub; I’d deal with them in the morning. My head was such a mess, I didn’t know whether to wash them, burn them, or keep them evidence.
I crawled to my bed and got in, so tired after everything. I wanted to sleep for a year and hoped I’d be back to normal and out of this nightmare when I woke up.
Heck, maybe if you didn’t finalize the process, it eventually reversed itself. Then, I thought about all the body parts I had literally expunged. What if my cartoon self melted away with nothing else inside me? What if not finishing the process is what ends up killing me?
I closed my eyes.
I had no idea how long I was out, but I awoke to a loud, rattling knock at the door. It had to be Kyle. He’d probably seen that my car wasn’t here but would want to check anyway.
When I got to the door, I realized I was no longer tall enough to peek through the peephole. I braced myself for what would probably be a nasty breakup and opened the door.
It was Snappy. “Hey there, Fairfax!” he said, walking in and whistling a jaunty tune before settling on my sofa. “It’s so nice you decided to come work for me.”
“Snappy, what do you mean?”
“Well, Miss Blake told me you popped into existence, and, you know, as a personal favor for getting her a very classic copyright page to work with, I have first dibs on holding your copyright. Now, then…we know that you’re new, but due to the operations of how your copyright works, we’re going to assume that you’ve had an illustrated career that never took off. You know, someone who never even hit cult classic. I bet you probably got at least three or four iterations somewhere inside of you. So, let’s see what you got!”
“Snappy?”
“Yes, Fairfax?”
“You know who I am, right?”
“Yes, you’re Fairfax Fawkes. My new employee. A fresh new toon who gets to have a very illustrated history, and I can’t wait to hear all about the life that has been given to you. I also can’t wait to see your foil when he pops into existence. I bet the antics will be spectacular.”
“Snappy, I need you to listen to me and I need you to listen good, okay? What I’m about to say is not a gag. It’s not a joke. Okay? Very serious.”
“Well, okay then. Hit me with the information.”
“It’s me, Tyler. I’m Tyler. Tyler Fairfax. I mean, you’ve been to this apartment!”
“He used to work for me, but he decided that do
ing odd jobs wasn’t good enough. Well, he skipped town, and I know it’s easy for a toon to find fresh accommodations fast. Happy coinkidink! That’s fine, and I’d welcome him back with open arms, but—”
“Snappy, it’s me, okay? Miss Blake is taking humans and turning them into toons. I managed to get out, but there is something very wrong going on there.”
Snappy snorted for a second, then laughed.
I stamped my foot. “I said I wasn’t joking, Snappy. It’s me. I should not be like this. I should not have this body. She took my identity from me and she bound my soul to a piece of paper and gave it to you as a gift.”
“Well, that is a funny story and an interesting origin but, unfortunately, it’s not going to mesh with the fact that, according to the paperwork, you came into existence almost back in the 20s.”
“Snappy, what can I do to actually prove to you that I’m a human in the body of a toon?”
“I don’t know, what could you possibly do that could prove that to me?” he said in an almost mocking tone.
And that’s when I realized he’s expecting me to be a G-rated toon in every sense of the imagination. It was time to show him by breaking the rating.
“Fuck. Shit. Cunt. Asshole. Fuck every viewer out there. Tell the children to eat their parents.”
Snappy went wide-eyed. I’d never seen him angry before. He hissed and charged at me. “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing?! You can’t talk like that.”
“I just did, Snappy, because I’m a human inside of a toon body.”
“Now, now, now, you’re fresh; your ink just hasn’t set yet. You’re just trying to get one of those R or X ratings, that’s all. I’ll see you at the estate tomorrow unless you have anything else you’d like to say that would prove that you aren’t a toon.”
I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure how this would go down, but from what little I gathered from Betty and Barry, I said four words that, had he not already been monochrome, would have drained all the color out of him.
“Fuck Mother and Father.”
Snappy grabbed at his chest and fell against the wall.
He looked at me like I was a monster. “Who would ever—”
“Snappy, it’s Tyler. I don’t know what I said, I just know that I’m not supposed to say it. I don’t know the meaning of it. If I’ve offended you in any way, I’m sorry, but I’m a shade under four feet tall, my dick and balls are gone, I’ve lost a finger on both hands and I have a goddamn tail. Now the only good thing I’ve got going for me is that I’ve already paid my rent, but if I get injured, I can’t heal from it; I feel it like a human because I’m in an in-between space.”
Snappy was still visibly disturbed by my outcry. He made a strange gesture with his hands. He took his right hand and moved it to the left, right in front of him, made a fist, and slammed it into his midsection, while his left hand made a twisting motion off to the side.
I had no idea what it meant, but it had some special significance to him.
Snappy said, “Okay, I don’t know how to handle this. This is new. This is very new. Um, okay. This was not what I expected. So, what you’re saying is—”
I nodded to him before he perked up.
“You didn’t quit?”
My jaw dropped. Mind you, not to the floor. I had to stop myself from that, though the temptation to give in to the gag was strong.
“No, I didn’t quit my job, but—”
“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Snappy, wait! I-I don’t know how to do this. How do—I don’t know how this body works.”
“I’ll help you out with that, then, Fairfax.”
“My name is—”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your name is Fairfax Fawkes. It says so on your copyright.”
That’s when I realized it was like with Boost before, and what Miss Blake had mentioned: this was just an action to him. It was something humans did. This was just to him a new thing that humans did, which was become a toon.
As much as I liked Snappy, I had no ally in him. He was friendly, he thought well of me, but he also would drop a piano on me before I could have a real connection with him.
“I see you’re already wearing the uniform. Good! You really don’t need to wear anything else, but—”
“Snappy,” I said, frustrated, “I don’t even know the ground rules of being a toon.”
“Do you want to go over that with me real quick? I mean, I do act as an advisor for newly emerging toons.”
I sat down and sank my face in my gloved hands.
“Your mileage will vary because, obviously, you’re a unique case, but…one: we do not hurt the humans.
“I know, it’s not really—”
“No, no, of course you have the physical capability of hurting a human, but it goes against who we are. We’re here to entertain. We’re here to put on a good show, to make people smile. Humans hurting humans makes human smile, but toons hurting humans make some just feel disturbed.
“Two: always make sure that you’ve got a good deal, and you got a great one with me. I’m gonna hold your copyright for a good, long time. I’ll get you some good exposure and pay you well. Heck, you may end up the taking over the guest house eventually.”
“But Miss Blake—”
“Is human! She’ll die eventually, and that’s sad, but we’ll continue. Just wait it out.”
“Am I still doing odd jobs?”
“Of course, and they’ll be odder still, now that you can take it.”
I held up a hand. “I can’t be injured.”
“Of course you could—”
“Snappy, I’m putting that as a caveat in the contract, because I really don’t want to come back to your estate if she’s still there.”
“I will talk with Miss Blake about this. I’m sure we can come to some sort of understanding.”
“Snappy, why don’t you just call the police? We—”
He froze and gave me the same look that Barry had while ago. “This is a toon matter now.” He reached over and tipped up my chin with a finger, looking me right in the eyes. “Fairfax, I need you to start accepting more of who you are. First off, the name—may I say?—classic choice. I love the play at the end. The funny spelling of Fox,” he said, holding up his hands as if he were looking at a matinee sign.
“I think you could be one of the greats, but we’re going to have to have some ground rules for you. So, since you and Miss Blake seem to be on the outs and you do not want to be…” he made finger quotes, “‘injured’ in any way, I suppose I can just have you do some human work for me.”
“Human work?”
“Oh, you know, I’ll have you run errands, file paperwork. I’ve needed a system like that for a long time.”
I sat up. “That’s the sort of job I was trying to do in the first place.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
CHAPTER 10
I woke up the next morning and sat up. I didn’t know what to do. I could feel the compulsion to get my duties done; this must’ve been the work of the copyright. At the end of the day, I was still beholden to Snappy.
Out of habit, I walked to the shower, but I’d forgotten I had my clothes in there, now fully dried and looking like some macabre art exhibit. Anyway, I felt over my body and realized I didn’t feel dirty.
“Well,” I said to myself, “I don’t know if I even need to shower anymore. If anything, it will save on the water bill.”
There was a knock on my door. I heard Barry’s voice from the other side: “Come on over for some breakfast, kid.”
I opened up and smiled meekly. “Thanks. You two have been a real lifesaver.”
“Think nothing of it, man. So, Tyler—”
I held up a hand. “I have a new name on my copyright. My boss told me I need to start getting into the role. I’m really not happy about this whole thing, but at this point, I don’t have a choice. I can’t even quit this job now, can I?”
&nbs
p; Barry shook his head. “Toons can’t break copyright. They can buy themselves out of it or wait for the contract to end. As long as he’s not technically in breach, you’re stuck.”
“I don’t know how much of that’s been set in stone yet. I’m still very new to this.”
Barry slugged me in the shoulder. “Most current contracts aren’t that long. A lot of toons who work normal human jobs don’t even have that sort of limitation put on them. It makes it easier for their human counterparts to work with us.”
“How?”
“Would you want to work with someone who instinctively couldn’t leave the job? For us, it’s natural. It feels right to belong; it’s part of who we are, deep down in our ink. To humans, they had to deal with this thing called slavery. I shudder to think that the nice people we know could be descended from folks who did such things.”
I blinked and shuddered. “God, I never thought of it like that. I just thought of it as a television contract or a music gig.”
“We like to belong. We enjoy entertaining; we’re here for people. It’s part of our culture, it’s part of our heritage, it’s part of the fabric of every toon. The modern day’s been a great thing for us,” he said, guiding me into the hallway.
I closed my door and we walked into his house. An elaborate animated breakfast was set before me: a pile of pancakes as tall as I was with a whipped cream sculpture of myself on top. A cherry sat where my big inkblot nose would be.
“Humans…they do terrible things to each other,” he said, gripping me by the shoulder. “I’m going to refer to them as ‘them’ at this point because you’re not one of them anymore. You’re one of us. So much of this would’ve been instinctual to you had the process finished, but then we wouldn’t have you anymore. So, you said you’ve got a name on your copyright. What is it?”
“Fairfax Fawkes,” I said. “F-A-W-K-E-S for the last name.”
Betty poked her head around the corner and nodded. “That’s not bad! Did the person who did this come up with it?”
I shook my head. “No. I kinda did. They were my last words, as it were.”
“A good choice. I like it, Fairfax.”