NOTE: The following is the first in what may (or may not) be a series of oneshots. They will all take place in the same universe as 'Bonds' and elements of that story will be referenced, but unless otherwise mentioned, it is not necessary to read 'Bonds' beforehand. Enjoy.

Special

The children of the Los Angeles County Toon Orphanage lurched forward as the bus came to a stop. A second later they erupted from their seats and scrambled toward the exit in a tangled mess of limbs, tails, and fur. While this behavior would reduce lesser men to tears, the bus driver remained unfazed. This was standard fare for every field trip. Every child knew it was imperative to be the first off the bus, including a trio of siblings named Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. Dot was doing her part by darting between children's legs and kicking their shins as she passed while Wakko was swinging from tail to tail like a monkey. Yakko, who was too tall to sneak under anyone but too skinny to make any significant impact on any of the kids his own size, simply shrugged and allowed himself to be carried to the front of the bus like a twig in a river.

"This is a fire hazard," Yakko told the driver as he was jostled off the bus. The driver looked like he was resisting the urge to hit Yakko.

The children tumbled out of the bus and into the bright California sun. Yakko dusted off his jeans and took in his surroundings. They were at the top of a small mountain that overlooked all of Los Angeles. Beyond the parking lot and toward the edge of the overlook was a long and elegant white building. Squinting, Yakko could make out the words 'GRIFFITH OBSERVATORY' emblazoned in gold above the entrance. Dot joined him.

"Is this is it? Are we here?" she squeaked.

"I'd say so, sib."

Wakko bounded up to his side. "Where can I observe Griffith?" he asked breathlessly.

"It's his observatory, not a place to observe him specifically."

"Oh."

Being an orphanage kid was actually a pretty sweet set up, in Yakko's opinion. A roof over their heads, three square meals a day, occasional field trips, and the best education the bottom rungs of government funding could provide. Life was at least better at the orphanage than it was with their mother. In their five years together she could not have made it more plain that they were unwanted. She clarified that further when she unceremoniously dumped them off on the orphanage's front door step four years ago. No, not dumped, placed. He was supposed to say that they'd been placed at the orphanage. It was more palatable to potential parents. He could still picture the blanket shock on the face of a prospective adopter when Yakko told her that he and his siblings had been "put out to pasture" by their mother.

As he'd been frequently told: his mouth wasn't doing him any favors.

But all in all, the orphanage was a perfectly fine place to spend a lackluster childhood. In fact, the only bad thing about it was –

"CHILDREN!"

Yakko and all the other kids winced at the ear-piercing call. Ms. Flamiel, the orphanage director, had just stepped off the bus, a large black binder tucked under her arm. She was a plain and cold looking woman whose chest was sagging nearly as much as her flabby upper arms (Yakko had told her this once. He didn't know a person's face could actually turn purple). She scanned the children with her pale, beady eyes. Where Yakko could tell exactly what Dot or Wakko was thinking just by looking into their eyes, the only time Flamiel's eyes exhibited any kind of emotion was when she was fixing them on Yakko. And the emotion was not a positive one.

"Good Gertie, it's hot out here," she grumbled, then cleared her throat loudly once all the kids had gathered. "Welcome to the Griffith Observatory. You all will have one hour of free time in which you are allowed to explore the observatory – and only the observatory. You are to compose yourselves in a manner befitting our wonderful institution." She paused after she said this and fixed Yakko with a long, stern glare. Yakko batted his eyes and concentrated until an angel's halo popped up over his head. Dot snickered, but several of the older kids scowled at him.

"Freak," whispered Robbie, a human toon.

"Bed wetter," Yakko mumbled back.

Breathing heavily through her nose, Flamiel continued, "So that means no running, no jumping, no laughing, no dillydallying, no crying, no poking, no burping, no shouting, no hitting, no sniffling, no name calling, no hair pulling, no tail pulling, no touching anything, no breaking anything, no harassing anyone, no pretending you are a fish – " she looked at Wakko for that one " – no asking questions, and no sticking your hands behind your backs. And remember, have fun."

Yakko raised his hand.

"Didn't you hear me? One of the rules was no asking questions," Flamiel barked.

"No, sorry, shockingly I didn't commit them all to memory," Yakko muttered. Then he said more loudly, "And I didn't have a question. I just wanted to tell you it's called a hammerspace."

The chattering around him fell silent as all the kids turned to look at him. Wakko shrank back while Dot grinned at all the attention. But Yakko ignored the other kids and stared doggedly back at Flamiel, who looked like she was developing a facial tic.

"You should see a doc about that," he said, pointing to it.

"What did you say to me?" she seethed.

"I said you should see a doc a – "

"Not that! Before that!"

"Oh, that part where I was correcting you about your toon terminology? The hammerspace thing? Is that what you're referring to?"

While his siblings were stuffing their fists in their mouths to prevent their giggles, Flamiel looked like she would never laugh again. She marched forward so that she was now looming over him. He supposed this was meant to be threatening, but he could barely see her face as her ample chest was in the way. For a brief moment he wondered if this sight would be attractive once he'd gone through puberty. This thought was so horrifying that he shuddered, which Flamiel mistook as a sign that her intimidation tactics were working. She smiled triumphantly and said, "You three know you are not to talk about your useless little magic tricks. If you'd like to go on any future field trips, I'd better not see so much as a penny come out from behind your backs."

"I saw Yakko pull a whole globe out of his back yesterday!" shouted a ferret named Holly. Everyone knew she resident tattletale. Which of course had endeared her to Flamiel forever.

"Just brushing up on my geography," Yakko said, examining his fingernails. It helped him will his temper down. He knew why Holly, Robbie, Flamiel, and all the others were treating them this way. They were jealous. No one else could do what he did – pull things like paddleballs and globes from his hammerspace, stretch his tail out across the room, or jump off the roof of the orphanage without getting hurt. Not every toon could, or at least that's what he guessed, as none of the other kids could so much as jump off the swings without twisting an ankle. Yakko knew that there were toons out there, like the ones he saw in the cartoons on Saturday morning, that were admired, even idolized for these skills. Donald Duck, Wile E Coyote, or his favorite, Bugs Bunny – everyone loved them. But here, in the closeted and envious halls of the orphanage, he was a pariah. It wouldn't be long before his siblings would be ostracized either. They were already showing the signs. As far as he could tell, Wakko and Dot were going to be pretty good at it too. Wakko was showing an amazing inclination toward a gag bag. And Dot had nearly given him heart failure the other week when she pulled out a small box and asked Yakko if he wanted to see her "pet."

They were young yet though. Not old enough to be shunned and ashamed of their powers. Not that it mattered anyway. Natural talent and unsupervised experimentation would barely get them past the birthday party magician level. Toons had to go to tooniversities to really get any good.

"Don't worry Holly, I'll be watching him, seeing as no one else will," Flamiel said, patting her head and glaring at Yakko. "Speaking of which, I was going to have a word with that nice looking couple over there. Why don't you join me? "

Yakko watched with a scowl as Flamiel led Holly to the two random strangers. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been told he was unadoptable. Flamiel had let him know that dozens of times. He was too loud. Too obnoxious. A smart aleck. A know it all. No respect for authority. Why would someone want him when they could have a child who behaved? Those kids were the ones who wanted parents. Because they were the ones who deserved them.

And he wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what all these little "field trips" were about. If Flamiel hadn't already made it obvious enough by lugging that stupid binder around. The binder had everyone's files in it; it was the same binder that she had with her during every potential parent visit (Yakko had asked to see his own file once, but Flamiel said it would take too long – he had his own binder). These field trips were essentially a traveling circus act for her to show off all the kids in hopes of persuading people into coming to see them in the orphanage. In theory, it wasn't against the law or anything – after all, as orphanage director, he couldn't exactly fault her for trying to get them adopted to good homes – but to Yakko it was a death knell. Because Flamiel was actively trying to adopt away his siblings.

Wakko seemed to fair slightly better than he did, but not by much. He was younger, which was an automatic bonus. And between his shy smile and goofy tongue hanging out he was downright adorable. Though whenever Yakko saw a prospective parent getting a little too cozy with his brother, he sometimes – okay, always – prompted Wakko to burp or show them his mallet. This usually led to a destroyed office, which usually led to the so-called parents fleeing in terror. Flamiel told Wakko he was a destructive child. Yakko told him he wasn't destructive, just energetic. Besides, if a parent couldn't handle that, then they simply didn't deserve Wakko, Yakko reasoned.

With Dot it was much harder to dissuade any would-be parents. She was barely more than baby. She was smart. She was feisty. And darn it if she wasn't as cute as a button. Adopters were always swarming around her like flies to honey. With her, Yakko found himself stooping to the lowest of diversionary tactics. One time, he took the sandwich Wakko had been hiding under the bed for three weeks and told her to offer it to the couple. Another time, he told her to ask every visitor if they provided free flea baths. He'd been known to simply walk into the room mid meet and greet, scoop her up, and carry her back out again, but that was before Flamiel started separating him from Dot's sessions.

It wasn't really sabotage, he reasoned. Why should his siblings have to be paraded out like zoo animals to impress people into wanting them when he, Yakko, already did? They didn't have to prove anything to him. He liked them just the way they were. And it seemed that they were the only two people in the world who felt that way about him. If they were gone, nobody would like him.

By this point the other children had dispersed. It was dry and dusty and hot at the top of the ridge. Visitors squinted in the sun as they milled about in front of the Observatory. A few humans pointed or nodded toward the herd of toon children, but for the most part they were ignored. Except for one man, who was hovering near the bronze bust of what Yakko presumed was some smart but dead guy. The man's clothes were clearly expensive but hung in a would-be casual way, as though he had paid to look more middle class than he was. Despite the chic sunglasses he wore Yakko could tell the man was looking at them. Though his fur prickled on the back of his neck Yakko glared back at him, trying to be just as rude as the man was. But he felt a tug on his pants and he ended the staring contest to look down.

"What's that?" Wakko asked, pointing to a haze on the horizon.

"That's a homegrown layer of LA's finest smog," Yakko said.

Dot waved at it. "Hello smog!"

Catching a glimpse of Flamiel, who was now pushing Holly on a pair of human toons, Yakko whipped out a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, just like the ones she wore, and slapped them on his face. Turning to his siblings and jutting out his hips, he screeched in his best Flamiel impression, "Don't wave to the smog Dot, it's against the rules! At least I assume so, sometimes I forget rules three hundred and twenty through five thousand and one!"

Wakko and Dot exploded into giggles.

"I've been making rules since I was a little girl, you know!" Yakko continued, "And that's really saying something! Good Gertie the Dinosaur, I almost forgot I'm older than Gertie the Dinosaur!"

Flamiel appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to their left. He jumped, but quickly regained his composure.

"You should patent that trick," Yakko said, raising an eyebrow.

"Will you stop dillydallying?"

"We weren't dillydallying, we were dawdling. There's a difference," Yakko corrected.

Flamiel seized him and Wakko roughly by the arms and marched them toward the Observatory. The way she was squeezing his arm made Yakko think she'd heard what he'd just said. Dot trotted behind them and made faces at Flamiel's back. Delighted by this, Wakko made his own rather bizarre face at her.

"What on earth are you doing?" Flamiel snapped, eying Wakko like a science experiment gone awry.

Wakko's face scrunched up in thought and his tongue peeked out. "A gookie," he answered finally.

"A goo – what?" Flamiel blurted. She shook her head. "Whatever. That didn't need an answer, it was a rhetorical question."

"Rhetorical? Ooh, triple word score," Yakko said.

"I would be positively shocked if you even knew what 'rhetoical' meant."

"Well, the way you used it, it's a figure of speech that's used to make a point, not get an answer. So since you asked Wakko a direct question, I guess that makes you the one who doesn't know what it means."

He felt her grip tighten painfully on his arm as her mouth pressed itself into an impossibly thin and straight line. He'd once heard the expression "if looks could kill" and now he finally understood what it meant. Wakko and Dot's eyes were darting rapidly between Yakko and Flamiel as though they were watching an invisible tennis match. After a moment Flamiel snapped, "You're completely wrong. Now just shut your mouth and try not to give me a reason to lock you in the bus for the rest of the afternoon."

Yakko crossed his arms. "Boy, you'd make a great teacher one day."

Her eyes went meaningfully from him to the bus, and he decided not to push his luck any further. When they reached the Observatory Flamiel all but dropped them in the lobby. Hunching over so her sharp, ugly nose was an inch from Yakko and Wakko's, she growled, "If either of you two misbehaves – especially you – " she jabbed a finger into Yakko's chest "you will be writing lines from now until you turn eighteen."

Wakko counted on his fingers for a moment. "That's twelve years!" he answered proudly.

"I'd only have to do it for nine years," Yakko said.

"No fair!"

Flamiel made a threatening noise in the back of her throat and they clammed up immediately. Wakko even edged himself slightly behind Yakko.

"It's a looong time either way," she said. After giving them one final glare, she turned to Dot with a sickly sweet face. "Now, come along Dottie, let's talk to all the nice people..."

But when she grabbed Dot's hand, Dot slid out of her grip and joined her brothers.

"No, I'm going with Yakko," she said with a surprising amount of authority for a four-year-old. "And don't call me Dottie."

Yakko treated Flamiel to the smuggest grin he could muster. In return she gave him a scowl that made her look more vulture-like than usual before storming away from them in a huff.

"I think she likes us," Wakko said, watching her leave.

Yakko rolled his eyes. "Maybe. She definitely doesn't love us."

"Ooh, what's that?" Dot cried. She skidded to a halt in front of a large circular wall in the middle of the room. "I – can't – see!" she grunted between jumps as she tried to look over the wall. Joining her, Yakko crouched down and motioned to Wakko, who crawled on top of him to sit on his shoulders. Dot followed by scrambling up both of them, using Yakko's muzzle as a foothold in the process, until she was sitting on Wakko's shoulders. Grunting with effort, Yakko pushed himself to his feet, raising both his giggling siblings in the air. They wobbled for a moment until Yakko found his balance.

"Look at us, we're the Leaning Tower of Sibs," Yakko said, clutching Wakko's ankles.

"Good one Yak," Dot said dryly from her perch. If Flamiel was here, Dot would be eye level with her.

Struggling to stay balanced, Yakko staggered to the edge of the wall. Dot and Wakko could see over it perfectly now, and he was just tall enough to peer over the edge. It was surrounding a circular pit that was edged with ornate numbers. In the pit, a large and heavy-looking golden ball was swinging back and forth, suspended from a wire that went all the way up to the distant ceiling. It made elegant arcs with each slow, purposeful swing.

"It's pretty," Dot said.

"It's boring," Wakko countered.

"It's a Foucault Pendulum," Yakko said, reading the sign beneath it.

"Gesundheit," he heard Dot mutter above him. Rolling his eyes, he continued to read, "The brass ball, suspended by a cable 40 feet long, swings in a constant direction while the Earth turns beneath it. The pendulum is mounted to the rotunda ceiling and does not turn with the building as it rotates with the Earth. As the day passes, the pendulum knocks over pegs set up in the pendulum pit and indicates the progress of rotation."

"What does that mean?"

"It's just a fancy way of showing the Earth rotates."

Wakko jumped, causing the three of them to sway ominously. "The Earth rotates?" he cried, scandalized. He eyed the ground as though he expected it was going to slither out from beneath their feet.

"Yeah. It's not really front page news. That's why we have daytime and nighttime. And stop looking Wak, it's too slow, you're not gonna see it."

"Well if we have daytime and nighttime, then why do we need this ball thing to tell us we're rotating?" Dot asked.

"Sometimes people don't believe stuff even though it's true. They need more proof right under their nose. And Foucault probably had way too much time on his hands."

Dot's eyes swiveled back and forth with the pendulum. "Yup. Way too much time."

They watched it in silence for a few minutes. The steadiness of it was oddly relaxing. Yakko adjusted his aching shoulders, trying to move Wakko to a more comfortable position, when he felt someone kick the back of his knees. They instantly buckled, sending the three of them stumbling forward. Wakko and Dot cried out above him as Yakko struggled for balance; Dot lurched forward, seconds from tumbling into the pit. Yakko kicked back with all his might, sending all of them sprawling backwards. His tail made contact with the floor before two smacks told him his siblings had done the same. He craned around to check on them. Both of them seemed okay – Wakko looked slightly dazed, and Dot, murderous – but unharmed. Wheeling back around, he scanned the lobby for the culprit. It wasn't too difficult spot three identical duck boys sniggering behind a pillar. Jerks. What did they have to go and do that for?

"I think we found our new special friends," Yakko muttered.

"Lemme at 'em!" Dot roared, getting to her feet and pushing back her sleeves. "I'll pluck 'em, tar 'em, and feather 'em again! I'll – "

Yakko caught hold of her tail as she marched past. "I appreciate the blood lust, sib, but I think we'll need a plan of attack first."

"What's there to plan? First we pluck them, then we find some tar, then we tar them – "

"First of all, we don't go to the La Brea Tar Pits until the next field trip. Second of all," Yakko glanced at the pendulum and grinned, "I have a better idea."

Making sure the ducks were watching, he spun on the spot, concentrating on his clothes while also trying not to fall over. With his eyes shut tight he felt a light fabric flutter across his chest, and a slight weight on his head. Crossing his fingers, Yakko opened his eyes and stole a glance downward. An apron now hung from his shoulders, and he could feel a chef's hat atop his head. He'd done it! He'd done a change! Though he felt a slight draft around his left ankle and realized he'd accidentally lost half his pant leg in the process. Oh well, it was still better than last time when he'd ended up with his pants wrapped around his head like a scarf (much to Wakko and Dot's enjoyment). Besides, the apron covered his legs anyway. The ducks would never have to know.

"You guys hungry?" he asked his siblings.

"Starving," Wakko moaned.

"What's for lunch?" Dot asked.

"I'm thinking I'll make my specialty…"

Yakko pulled a tub of chicken stock from his hammerspace and was unable to suppress a self-satisfied smirk. Whether it was more from its respectable size or from the astonished looks on the ducks' faces was hard to tell. Wakko and Dot's faces split into twin grins when he motioned them over, not even questioning the anarchy they were about to cause. They gleefully helped him tip the chicken stock into the beautiful pendulum pit, the juices splashing up against the sides. Yakko snuck a glance around the lobby. The few people who were there hadn't noticed what they were doing yet. And Flamiel was nowhere to be seen.

"How'd you do that?" came a boy's voice.

Yakko struggled to repress his growing smirk. Throwing on an air of casual innocence, he turned around to face the triplet ducks. They were barely a few feet away, huddled close together as though Yakko or his siblings could attack at any moment. They had identical, accusatory looks on their faces.

"Oh, this? Just a little thing called gravity," Yakko said, nodding his head toward the chicken stock, "it pulls things down, you see."

The boy in the red shirt narrowed his eyes. "I haven't seen you at tooniversity."

"Truancy is a rising epidemic."

"They don't go to school, Huey," said the green-shirted boy. "They came on that bus all the orphan kids ride. They're nothing special."

"Still Louie, it doesn't explain how they can do...that," the blue-shirted one added, watching Yakko tug a carrot from his hammerspace.

Yakko took a bite and said nasally, "Eh, what's up, doc?"

"Only kids who go to tooniversity can do toon tricks, that's what's up! You're not allowed!" Huey snapped as though Yakko had done something entirely against nature.

"I didn't know there was a law," Yakko drawled. He deftly sliced the carrot with a knife and tossed the pieces over his shoulder so they landed in the chicken stock with soft plunks.

"Well no, there ain't a law – " the blue one began, but Huey elbowed him in the ribs and hissed, "Quiet Dewey!"'

By now Wakko and Dot, who were perched on the edge of the pit, were following his lead and pulling a variety of vegetables out of their hammerspaces and throwing them into the pit. Hunks of celery, whole heads of cabbage – none of them were finely chopped like his, but the triplets' beaks still dropped open. By this point Wakko had abandoned vegetables and was now throwing a variety of things into the pit, including a banana, a herring, and a tire iron. Glancing around once more, Yakko was relieved, but also a little surprised, to see no Flamiel. Usually when she said she was going to keep an eye on him, he couldn't so much as sneeze without her breathing down his neck. Not that he missed her, but still, it was odd...

"Who taught ya?" Huey asked with an aggressive step forward.

Yakko shrugged. "No one, Nobody, and Not a One."

Dewey snorted. "Yeah right. Who'd ya steal tricks from then?"

Yakko felt a prickle of outrage, but he stifled it and remained cool. "Hey now, I'm sensing some hostility here. Wakko, Dot, what do you think?"

"Yeah, they do seem a little spiced up," Dot said, darting forward and sprinkling pepper on them. The ducks cried out and cringed. Louie sneezed.

"You'd think we'd just a-salted them," Yakko added, throwing some salt.

Wakko nodded. "Maybe we should butter them up?"

As he said it, Wakko bound two sticks of butter to the bottoms of his feet with scotch tape. He leapt from the edge of the pit and began sliding around the lobby floor as though he were on ice skates. He skated circles around the ducks, who were still trying to wipe the salt and pepper from their eyes, making sure to glide over their feet as he did so.

"Couldn't agree with you more, sib!" Yakko said, and he and Dot stuck butter to their feet as well. They joined Wakko, skating lazy, taunting circles around the three ducks.

Pushing the last of the pepper out of his eyes, Huey snarled, "That's it, you wanna see powers? I'll show ya powers!" His hand plunged behind his back, and Yakko saw the handle of a feeble-looking mallet emerge. Yakko snorted. His was way bigger and stronger. But still, even Huey's crappy little mallet would hurt if it smacked him in the face. Yakko's own hand went behind his back and retrieved an onion. "Now now boys, no need to get upset!" he said. He pulled out his knife again and sliced the onion very rapidly in front of the ducks' noses. Within seconds their eyes welled up with tears. "Knock it off!" Dewey said through a sob.

With a gleeful laugh, Yakko and his siblings skated away. "Bet you can't catch us!" Dot called.

The three ducks growled. Half blinded by tears and with feet covered in butter, they stumbled awkwardly after them. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot skated around the legs of startled tourists, past a mural of the planetary system, around a model of the moon. The ducks slipped and skidded behind them, crashing into people and walls. Leading his siblings, Yakko circled back to the center of the lobby where the pit stood as the last bits of butter melted from his feet. He motioned Wakko and Dot away and, making sure the ducks were still chasing him, made a running jump on top of the pit. For it to work, he knew he couldn't look down, but for a simple instruction it was very difficult to do. He screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to look, concentrating everything on the belief that the air was a solid thing, praying that he wouldn't splash into a pit full of chicken stock –

His feet landed on something hard. He held very still for a moment before cracking an eye open. The pendulum wire was swinging inches away from him, exactly where the pit was, but hadn't fallen in. He was standing above the pit on nothing but thin air.

"Get back here you freak!"

The triplets were charging toward him. Determined to keep them distracted, Yakko crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at them. Huey's face was so red it matched his shirt. They jumped up, landing in front of him with triumphant smiles.

"Where ya gonna go now, splot?" Dewey sneered.

"I don't know about me, but I know where you're going," Yakko said.

Louie rolled his eyes. "And where's that?"

Holding their gaze, Yakko pointed wordlessly at their feet. Their faces contorted with confusion. In perfect unison, they looked down. There was a moment where Yakko could have sworn they'd realized that they'd broken that cardinal toon rule: don't look down. But it only lasted a fraction of a second before they plunged into the stock-filled pit with three identical splashes.

Feeling his own concentration breaking Yakko jumped from the pit and onto solid ground, where Wakko was doubled over with laughter. He turned to look at the pit and burst with giggles himself: Huey, Dewey and Louie were up to their necks in chicken stock. They flailed and tried to climb out, but simply skidded down the steep walls. Carrots and celery and other items bobbed around them as the great pendulum churned them around like a giant ladle. Between the vegetables and the butter and the spices, Yakko had to admit it even smelled kind of good.

"Hope you like my recipe for duck stew!" Yakko called.

"Bone appetite!" Wakko added between giggles.

"It's bon appétit, sib, but close enough."

"Oh."

They had attracted a bit of attention now, but still, ominously, none of it was from Flamiel. A short distance away, Yakko spotted the weirdo with the sunglasses again. He was watching them with undisguised interest now. All he needed was for that guy to report him to Flamiel and she'd probably lock him in a closet for the rest of the summer. But then it suddenly occurred to Yakko that he may be one of those undercover guards that expensive places, like observatories, sometimes had. And he'd just had a front row seat to every inch of property damage Yakko and his siblings had committed.

Feeling the fur prickle on the back of his neck, Yakko turned to Wakko (who was sticking his finger in the stew and tasting it) and said, "C'mon brother sib, it's time to make a hasty retreat. You too, sister sib – sister sib?"

Their sister was nowhere to be found. Hadn't she just been with them a second ago? "Sic 'em, boy," he said to Wakko. Wakko immediately dove to all fours and began sniffing the ground like a bloodhound. After a few moments he sprang into a rigid pointer position, facing out onto the observatory lawn. Yakko followed the direction of Wakko's nose until he spotted her, and felt a moment of relief before his heart nearly jumped straight out of his chest: Dot was with Flamiel. Talking to a toon couple. No wonder he'd gotten away with so much. The witch had snuck his sister away from him while he was distracted.

"Dot!" he cried out. Yakko lunged into a sprint but stumbled awkwardly due to something heavy on his tail. He looked down to see that Wakko had tied his own to it on a whim.

Normally he was entertained by his brother's inexplicable impulses, but now was not the time. "Wakko, get off my tail, this is serious!" When Wakko merely shot him a mischievous grin, he growled and trudged forward as fast as he could, dragging his brother behind him through the dirt like a sleigh.

It took an agonizing amount of time to reach Dot and Flamiel. With each step he could see more and more of the couple; it was a pair of raccoons, and for a moment he had a vision of Dot squashed between them at a kitchen table, blowing out candles on a birthday cake or whatever it was you did with parents. He shook his head roughly to clear it and pushed harder ahead. Now he was close enough to hear Flamiel say, "Dottie, why don't you sing them that adorable little song you learned yesterday?"

Annoyance flickered across Dot's face, but before she could say it Yakko shouted for her, "Don't call her Dottie!"

Dot and the three adults whipped around. His sister gave him a wide smile, but the others did not look so welcoming. In fact, Flamiel looked like she'd just witnessed him commit a gruesome murder.

"And – and who is this?" the woman raccoon said lightly as her eyes traveled from Yakko to Wakko. Yakko knew they must look ridiculous – him, covered in butter and wearing half a pant leg while his brother was attached to him by the ears, laying on the ground and caked in dirt. He didn't care.

"She's not for sale!" he said fiercely. He pulled Dot to his chest, daring the raccoons to take her away. Beside him, Wakko had untied his ears and was getting to his feet.

The sight of the three of them together seemed to snap Flamiel out of her horrified stupor. Color crept back into her white face. She turned to the couple with a painfully forced smile and said, "My sincerest apologies – this boy is a, um, a special case. But I assure you that Dottie here is a perfect little angel and tells me every day that she'd want nothing but a family – "

"No I don't!" Dot huffed, but Yakko cut across her and snarled, "She's already got a family! We're her brothers!"

The two raccoons exchanged startled looks. "I thought you said she was an only child?" the woman said to Flamiel.

Flamiel, who was now sporting the manic look of someone who was about to do something desperate, let out a hysterical little laugh and said in a high-pitched voice, "No no no, please ignore him, he's disturbed in the head, they're not related at all – "

Yakko snorted. "Who are you kidding? In case you haven't noticed, we kind of look alike." This was debatable with Wakko, who was covered in so much dirt that he was brown. Yakko ignored this. "Or wait, I'm sorry, maybe you didn't notice, you're so old I'm surprised you don't need to use the observatory telescope to see your own nose – "

Without looking at him, Flamiel clapped a hand over his mouth. "Good Gertie, would you listen to him, such a little comedian!" she trilled to the couple before rounding on Yakko. Her face, which was glowing red, swapped its disgusting smile for a threatening snarl. Wordlessly she wedged her hand between Yakko and Dot and attempted to wrench them apart.

"Really, isn't she just a dear?" Flamiel pressed, ignoring the fact that Dot was trying to bite her wrist.

Yakko tried to tug back without hurting his sister. This did not seem to concern Flamiel, whose vice grip was twisting roughly between them. "Let go!" he grunted. Her grip tightened. Looking her straight in the eye, Yakko shouted, "HELP! KIDNAPPER! STRANGER DANGER!" Several tourists stopped to stare at them.

"W-what? No, I'm their director, I – " Flamiel sputtered. Her grip slackened and Wakko seized the opportunity to sloppily lick her entire hand.

"Yee-ech!" Flamiel shrieked, releasing Dot immediately. She yanked her hand away and shook it, sending droplets of spit onto the raccoon couple. They yelped in revulsion and backed away. "You know, we really should get going, lots of sight-seeing to do today..." the man mumbled.

"No please!" Flamiel cried, wisps of hair springing loose from her bun. "They're harmless, these boys, they're just bad eggs, but the girl – "

"I'll give you harmless," Yakko snapped, "Wak, let's show them our mallets – "

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Flamiel roared.

By this point everyone on the observatory grounds, including the man with the sunglasses, was watching them in awe. The raccoon couple slunk away without saying goodbye, ducking heads down and clearly hoping no one would notice them. Flamiel watched them go, spluttering a few feeble calls for their return, before she turned on Yakko. Her face had bypassed red and purple and was now a shade that was so new Yakko didn't think there was a name for it yet. Her nostrils were flared, and her eyes were so wide that she looked completely deranged. Yakko took a small amount of pride in knowing he was the cause of it all.

"You...you..." was all she could get out.

"Me...me..." Yakko mimicked back. Part of him knew he shouldn't be pushing her buttons right now, that he should be afraid of whatever was coming next, but he just didn't care.

And then her anger seemed to explode out of her. "What is wrong with you?" she bellowed.

"Me? You're the one trying to send a four-year-old away to complete strangers!"

"You. Are. Orphans! It's my job to send her away! And those people could have been her family if you hadn't scared them off – "

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU!" Yakko was yelling now. He couldn't remember ever having shouted like this in his life. He pushed himself to his full height, though that barely brought him past her waist. "She's got a family! We're her family! Why are you always trying to take her and Wakko away? You never try to split up any of the other kids as much as you do us, why can't you get your gigantic nose out of our business and leave us alone!"

To his wild embarrassment, he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Wakko and Dot were both gaping at him; he'd never lost his cool like this in front of them before.

"I don't split up the other ones because they actually stand a chance of getting adopted! I couldn't pay someone to take you home! You're not special, you're just a nasty little thing who's getting in the way of his brother and sister getting out of my hair and finding real home with people who love them!"

"Hey!" Dot shouted indignantly. "Yakko's plenty special! Anybody would want him!"

Wakko nodded furiously. "Yeah, he's the best, he can pull an anvil out his hammerspace the size of my head!"

Flamiel sneered condescendingly at them. "Oh yes, Yakko, the king of anvils...I'm sure his parlor tricks will really take you places."

"It's still one more anvil than you can do," Yakko said through grit teeth.

Her eyes widened impossibly further. Yakko held her stare and did not blink; he could tell she was holding back a million different names she wanted to call him. "You have five minutes to get your tails in the bus. You will sit there for the remainder of the trip. Yakko, you'll be writing lines the instant we get back to the orphanage, and don't even think about asking how many."

Turning on her heel and leaving him standing with his siblings, Flamiel marched towards the other children, who were gawking at them from the Observatory steps. Yakko watched her enormous hips jerk left and right with disgust. But his anger dissipated quickly, leaving guilt and sadness in its place. All the adrenaline had drained out of him, making him feel shaky and limp. He dropped down so he was sitting in the dirt. With a sigh he rested his head top of Wakko's and pulled both of his siblings closer.

"Stupid old bat," Dot growled.

Wakko stopped making facing at Flamiel's retreating back and said, "I'll help you write lines again Yakko. And I'll try to spell everything right this time."

But when Yakko didn't answer they squirmed around to face him. Judging by the concern on their faces, they weren't used to him having nothing to say. But he couldn't bring himself to talk just yet. He glanced at them, shrugged, and then turned his attention to the ground.

Dot poked his shoulder. "You weren't really listening to her, were you? I wouldn't want to live with those weirdos. And I know you're special."

"No I'm not," Yakko muttered.

"Yeah you are, you're my favorite brother!" Wakko countered.

Yakko quirked an eyebrow at him and sighed. "I'm your only brother."

"Uh huh, so that makes you really, really special."

Yakko blinked at him. It was hard to tell if the ounce of logic in that was intentional or a just a happy accident.

"Thanks for taking one for the team back there," he told Wakko, "I'm sorry you had to get a taste of that gargoyle."

"S'ok. She tasted like cat hair."

Dot giggled and even Yakko could not prevent a dry laugh. But as Dot relaxed back into his lap and Wakko doodled in the dirt with his finger, Yakko was suddenly overcome with a panicky kind of despair. Flamiel was right. What was he doing? How could he have not noticed how selfish he was being? Unlike him, people actually liked Wakko and Dot and wanted to take them in. And here he was, being a petulant little brat and standing between them and real families. His siblings thought they were happy with him now, but it was only because they didn't know any better. Maybe they would be happier – better – without him. They'd live in a real house and have a real bedroom of their own, not one that they shared with 30 other kids. They'd get their own toys that weren't already played with and broken, and maybe they'd even get to go to tooniversity. All things they wouldn't get if they stayed at the orphanage with him. He was dead weight, an anchor keeping them stuck at the orphanage because he couldn't get his act together and control himself, because he couldn't keep his mouth shut, because he was just so inherently unlikable.

But could he do it? Could he force himself to let them go? Or would his own selfishness get in the way again, would it stop him from giving up the two greatest comforts in his life, they only two people in the world who laughed at his jokes, who hugged him goodnight, who thought he was special...

"You okay Yakko?"

Dot was staring up at him with wide as eyes, as was Wakko, whose eyes were the only things visible beneath the dirt.

"Look...sibs..."

He heard footsteps crunching toward him. Feeling his temper boiling back up to the surface, Yakko snapped, "If you think you're going to lock me in the bus Flamiel, I'll tell ya where you can put the key – "

But as he turned around, he found that it wasn't Flamiel approaching them. It was the man in the sunglasses.

"I can't wait to hear you finish that sentence," the man said.

Yakko stared at him, his mind racing. "Who're you?" Dot said, asking his question for him.

"My name is Andre, and I couldn't help but notice – "

"What, my sibs? Get in line," Yakko spat.

Wakko stood himself between his brother and sister and the man. "If you want to adopt us, you have to adopt all of us," he said, crossing his arms. It would have been much more intimidating if he'd at least been taller than the man's knees. Still, Yakko took heart in the move of solidarity.

The man pushed back his sunglasses, eying Wakko with amusement. "That wasn't my plan, little guy, but I do want to talk to all three of you. You're uh, pretty special if I do say so myself."

"We're not special," Yakko corrected automatically.

The man blinked. "You three, not special? What in the world would make you say that?"

Yakko opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He suddenly had no idea how to answer him.

"See, told ya so," Dot whispered to him with a grin. "Some people need proof right under their nose."

"I'm a casting agent for Warner Brothers, and believe me I've seen it all. If I say you're special, you're special. We're in preproduction for a new children's series and we're looking for our leads. You kids have any acting experience?"

"Unless you count acting like we don't think Flamiel's evil, then no," Yakko said.

"That's the lady who's chaperoning you kids, right?" Andre asked. At Yakko's nod he continued, "Look, why don't we have a chat with her? If my instincts are on the money, she might be just as perfect for our show as you three are."

Andre urged them forward but Yakko dug his heels into the ground. "Um, exsqueeze me, but I think I heard you wrong. I thought you just said something about a show."

"You heard right. We're knee deep in casting but we still don't have our hosts. Steven's looking for two to four kids with a lot of personality."

"Well then look no further," Dot crooned as she preened her hair.

But Yakko barely heard her. His brain was still stuck on "casting," "show," and "hosts." This man was leaving Loonyville and making a left turn into Crazytown. There was no way he could be talking about what Yakko thought he was talking about.

"Ever been to an audition before?" Andre asked.

"What's an audition? Can I eat it?" Wakko pressed. "Yakko?"

Yakko blinked and looked down at his siblings. They were staring up at him with wide, dark eyes.

"What do ya say, kid? Want to see if you've got that special something to be on TV?"

Andre was looking at him now too.

"We – we don't have any nice clothes," Yakko blurted. He didn't know why he was saying it. Normal kids had clothes. Surely Andre was expecting normal kids.

Andre waved him off. "We can get you those."

"We don't have any scripts."

"We can get you those too."

Wakko and Dot were bouncing up at his sides. He didn't know why they were so excited, they didn't even know what an audition was or what it could mean for them –

Good Gertie.

They had an audition.

For a TV show.

"What's your name?" Andre asked.

It took him a moment to find his voice. "Yakko. And this is Wakko, and that's Dot."

"Pleased to meet you. And do Yakko, Wakko, and Dot have a last name?"

Yakko shook his head. "No. We don't. We're like Madonna."

"No last name?" Andre said, not phased at all. He shrugged. "Don't worry about it kid. We can get you one of those. A good one."

Yakko looked at his siblings and wondered what surname could possibly be special enough for the three of them.