Cats Don't Direct A "Cats Don't Dance"/Rescue Rangers story By Indy and Chris Silva
Chapter 1 – The Big Picture and A Dire Situation
L.B. Mammoth, head of Mammoth Studios, held up the
headline for everyone in the boardroom to read. His face was beaming, and
despite the spectacles over his eyes it was obvious that he was a happy camper.
“This publicity campaign’s
already been a smashing success,” L.B. started in, interrupted by the board
members’ clapping. “We’ve had a great deal of interest from movie houses across
the country. Gentlemen, I feel that Danny’s movie is the answer to the recent
turndown we’ve had. If this film goes over big, we’ll push a whole series of
them!”
More clapping followed, then
L.B.’s right-hand man and chief director Flanigan spoke up. “Right you are,
chief! This move stands to make L.B. Mammoth’s name live forever in the shining
memory of Hollywood!”
“Well said, Flanigan,” L.B.
replied, “and you’re going to help.”
“M…m…me, sir?” Flanigan asked.
“But I thought Danny was directing this picture.”
“He is, but he’s not experienced
yet. I want a veteran backing him as assistant director. Flanigan, you’re the
only man I trust for the job.”
Flanigan ducked his head a
little, and it was clear he was not thrilled about playing second banana.
“Well, okay sir. If it’s for the good of the studio.” L.B. stood up. “That’s
the answer I expected. Now, Danny informs me that the script should be back
from the editors either today or tomorrow. Once it’s finalized with the
printers, get with him and make sure everything goes smoothly.”
With a nod, Flanigan left the
room and L.B. asked the secretary to let Danny and Sawyer in. The dancing cat
nearly flew into the room, exuberant and full of pep. L.B. shook the cat’s
hand. “Danny, congratulations. You’ve made this studio one of the brightest
lights in this old town, and earned quite a name for yourself.”
“Gosh, thanks sir!” Danny said,
pumping his boss’ hand. “I can’t take all the credit, though. It was a team
effort—Sawyer, in particular helped convince me to take this step. We’ll turn
the movie industry on its ear again! Just wait!”
“I’m sure you will. Now don’t
forget, the printers need your completed script draft from the editors by the
end of the week. Don’t let any copies get out, or the spies at our rival
studios will either try to copy us or leak the storyline to the press.” Danny
snapped off a sharp salute. “Don’t worry, Mr. Mammoth, nothing’s gonna stop us
now!”
Sawyer grabbed Danny’s arm. “Come
on, Mr. Unstoppable. We have a dinner date with the rest of the old crew,
remember?” Danny thanked every member of the board, then returned to Sawyer,
bubbling with confidence. “Yeah! A good
meal will get the ol’ creative juices going.”
Danny and Sawyer shook hands with
L.B. at the door and headed out. They headed for the Brown Derby, where a
reunion of sorts was going on. Danny had called all the animals they’d first
worked with together, not only to talk over old times but to talk about being
in his latest film. Some of them, like Pudge and Cranston, had been working
some time at rival studios, but Danny had talked L.B. into pulling a few
strings. Others either already worked for Mammoth Studios or had gone on to
other jobs, but they had all eagerly gathered (well, Cranston never was eager
about anything) to hear Danny pitch his ideas.
They were seated in a private
room, and once Danny was sure it was secure he took center stage, happy as a
lark. “Friends, Romans, farm animals, lend me your ears! I’ve written the
greatest musical ever!” Danny jumped on top of the big round table they were
seated at, taking center stage as he took up the centerpiece off the white
linen tablecloth. “It’ll be the retelling of a classic! A story with pathos,
love, drama and heart!”
Cranston looked up at him,
sarcastic. “What’s it called, ‘Bippi Bippi Bop Bop’?” Tilly clouted him,
knocking his head through the table. “Oh, Cranston! I’m sure it’s gonna be a
real hit!” T.W. started quaking in his shell. “It doesn’t involve anything to
do with the number 13, does it?”
Danny grinned, like he was
sharing the best secret in the world. “I’m doing a remake of ‘A Streetcar Named
Desire’, but my new and improved version’s called ‘A Street Cat Named
Desiree’!”
There was a good two-second pause
for sheer shock value, then Cranston’s mouth kicked back in gear. “So in other
words it’s a complete rewrite.”
“Wow!” Pudge said. “So do we all
get to be in it, Danny?”
“You bet! It’s set in a college
town down south, and it’s all about an optimistic freshman college quarterback
and a big city girl who loves to act, dance and sing, and it’s how they both
grow and learn from each other.”
“That sure doesn’t sound like the
original story,” Sawyer said. Danny had kept everything about the film secret
up to this point, even from her. “Do you think you can swing that past the
audience?” she asked. Danny waived off her concern. “If they’ve seen the
original, they’ll love our version, believe me.”
Cranston crossed his arms,
harrumphing. “If there’s an increase in seismic activity during filming, it’ll
be Tennessee Williams rolling in his grave…” Frances, sitting next to him,
nodded. “Tell me about it, darling. I used to date his editor. Almost became my
fourth husband.” Tilly, never to be overly worried about anything, was overcome
with excitement and jumped up and down, nearly knocking the giant derby off the
restaurant’s roof. “Ooo, goodygoodygoody! It sounds exciting! When do we start
filming?”
“We don’t have a lot of time,”
Danny said, retaking his seat at the table. “The script needs to be ready in a
week and filming begins in two weeks.” Woolie the Mammoth, who had remained
quiet to this point sipping on his peanut tea, spoke up. “It sounds ambitious,
Danny. But never fear, we’re all with you. After all, you proved to us all that
your dream was genuine. We were just fortunate to be along for the ride.”
Danny nodded and addressed the
whole table. “Okay, we all have a lot riding on this, though it may not seem
like it—the first animal-directed movie. It’ll be a victory for animals
everywhere!” Sawyer tapped Danny on the shoulder, breaking the exuberant cat
out of his train of thought. “And Danny’s hired me as his casting director as
well as his co-star. We’re going to try to make this film an homage to the
success of animal actors everywhere, so we’ll be trying to pull in several of
the classic animal actors for cameos.”
Sawyer checked her jewel-encrusted
watch. “Speaking of which, auditions are set to start this afternoon. I’d
better get down there and head off the chaos.”
“Okay, but one more thing first,” Danny said,
opening a bottle of champagne. They all filled their glasses for a toast, and Danny
gave it. “To dreams that came true, and to more on the way!”
Champagne glasses clinked all around, and the
meeting broke up. Danny escorted Sawyer outside, and just as she was about to
step out from under the Derby’s awning, a cloudburst hit. “Not now!” Sawyer
said. “I spent half the morning at the beauty parlor. No way am I going
to spoil it now.”
A concierge brought an umbrella, and Danny took it.
“Don’t worry, Sawyer,” Danny said. “I’ll go get your chauffeur’s attention!”
Before Sawyer could protest, Danny had stepped off the curb. He just stood
there for a moment, then pulled his umbrella back, letting the rain splash him.
“Oh no, not that again…” Sawyer mumbled, covering
her face. Unlike Sawyer, Danny loved to cavort in public. He started to strut
to music only he could hear, whipping his umbrella around. Then he started
humming and singing from the “Singing in the Rain” theme, lost in a world of
his own.
“I’m dancin’…and singin’…in… the raaaaain…”
Danny sang, finishing up with a flourish. The crowd on the sidewalk in front of
the Derby clapped, but he noticed that Sawyer wasn’t there anymore. “Hey,
where’d she go?”
“She left a few minutes ago,” Tilly said. “Something
about ‘not having time for this’.”
“Oh, okay,” Danny said, not fazed at all. “I’ll see
you all at the studio!”
Cranston grumbled, a raindrop popping him in the
eye. “I’m probably going to regret this.”
Meanwhile, on the opposite coast,
a group of diminutive do-gooders was wrapping up a case. The Rescue Rangers
were widely known—not just in the animal community of New York, but to animals
around the world—as upholders of justice and honor. At the moment, they were
flying to their headquarters, the largest oak tree in Central Park.
Chip, leader of the Rangers,
tipped his fedora down over his chipmunk face and prepared for forty winks in
the RangerWing when a certain red-nosed comrade of his decided to have some
fun. Dale had just finished a soda and took a piece of ice from his cup and
slid it down the back of Chip’s bomber jacket. Chip leaped up with a yelp and
bonked Dale on the head. “Dale, what are you doing?!”
Dale laughed, ignoring the bonk
entirely. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying to keep cool under
pressure! I was just helping you out!” Monterey Jack, Monty to his friends, could
see the munks’ daily rough-and-tumble about to start. The big mustached Aussie
mouse liked a good fight, but only when he was in it. He separated the two of
them before they could pounce on each other.
“Here now, mates! Gadget’s
already told ya once, she don’t need the likes of you scrapping in the
RangerWing. Besides, ol’ Dale was just having a mite of sport, right mate?”
Monty asked. Dale leaned forward from his back seat position and gave Chip an
impish grin. “It was great sport for me!” Chip pushed him back where he
belonged. “Dale, stop fooling around! There’s work to be done. You never know
when something could come up.”
“Aw, you’re always saying that!”
Dale countered. “We weren’t causing any trouble, were we, Gadget?”
At this, the RangerWing’s pilot looked back toward
Dale. Gadget Hackwrench was the Rangers’ inventor, mechanic and pilot, and as
far as two chipmunks were concerned the loveliest mouse ever to grace the
planet. She, like most obsessed geniuses, was totally oblivious to their attentions.
“Hmm...oh, I suppose not. Golly, who would’ve thought that Fat Cat would’ve
stooped so low as to use itching powder at a dog show and then try to steal the
trophies? Of course, he couldn’t have won them legitimately. I wonder why there
aren’t cat shows?”
“There are, lass,” Monty said, shuddering at the
thought. “They just aren’t as popular—can’t imagine why…”
“If Fat Cat’s any example, it’d
be a total disaster,” Chip quipped. “Let’s get back to headquarters. I want to
make sure no one’s left us any messages about new cases.” Monty rolled his
eyes, the sarcasm rolling off his tongue. “Too right. Be a bloomin’ shame
to have only one case today and haveta spend the rest of the time
loungin’ around.”
“You said it!” Chip said,
enthused by the thought. “Rescue Rangers, away!”
“Me an’ my big mouth,” Monty
mumbled, under his breath, as the RangerWing neared its home base.
Later that afternoon, Danny met
up with Sawyer again, this time outside Studio 17 of Lot C, the building
reserved for the shooting of Danny’s film. Animal actors of every era and size
poured out of the building, from King Kong and Grape Ape to Atom Ant and Felix
the Cat. Sawyer for her part looked a little worse for wear, having been
through several hours of auditions. “You wouldn’t believe what some of
them are asking just for part-time work,” Sawyer started in.
Danny was as peppy up as ever.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, Sawyer. L.B. will handle the money details. I
can’t wait to start directing this masterpiece!” Sawyer got up in Danny’s face.
“Can’t you take this seriously? Danny, this is a big responsibility! You can’t
sing and dance your way through it. Directing’s a lot tougher than being in
front of the camera.”
“Oh, I’ve seen Flanigan do it
hundreds of times, and all he does is tell everyone where to be and when to hit
their cues. Besides, if I mess up he’s still assistant director on this flick.
I’m sure he’ll help out if I miss something.”
“Well, just so that you’re aware
of how tough it is,” Sawyer said, dubious. “The hopes and dreams of lots of
animals are riding on the success of this movie and there are lots of people
who would love to see you fail—see all of us fail for that matter.”
Danny took Sawyer’s hand and
guided her over to a small al fresco table outside the nearby commissary.
“I know it’s risky, Sawyer, but it’s all been a risk so far. Who would’ve
thought that we’d be two of the biggest stars in Hollywood, huh? It took every
bit of faith I had to stick it out, and...” Danny took her hand again. “…I
think I also had to borrow some of someone else’s.”
Sawyer glanced away for a moment.
She’d been embarrassed at the Derby by his antics and meant to tell him so, but
now he’d taken her out of train of thought. Danny was by no means a romancer,
but he’d take her out on dates every week and when their schedules weren’t
running their lives they’d go for a day trip to Palm Springs or Monterey. She
looked back, locking onto his eyes, and let her initial frustration go. “I
wouldn’t have had any faith to give if you hadn’t given me my own faith back
first. This town can really take a lot out of you. You don’t get very far alone
here.”
Danny smiled back at her. “Don’t
I know it. You’ve always been there for me, and I just wanted to say, well,
that it’s meant a lot to me. It still does.”
Sawyer looked into those eyes
that were beaming at her, and that special something came over her. Slowly the
world around them faded into the background, and Sawyer seemed to hear music
coming from somewhere as she started to lean forward. Danny leaned in toward
her as well, taking her in his arms, and their eyes started to close. Just
then, a shout from across the lot broke them out of their nearly-special
moment. It was Flanigan, and he appeared on the verge of panic as he ran up to
the seated cats.
“Oh dear, what a calamity!” Flanigan said, waving
his arms in a frenzy. “What a disaster!” Sawyer frowned, letting Danny go and
turning to the frantic director. “Flanigan! This better be really, really
important!” Flanigan sat down between them, catching his breath. “Oh, it’s the
most horrible, the most unimaginable, the most...”
“WHAT IS IT!?” the two cats
demanded. Flanigan grabbed Danny by the collar, who in turn grabbed Sawyer’s
arm as he was pulled along. “Come along, quickly!”
The printer’s office was halfway across the lot, but
Flanigan was doing his Michael Johnson impression, Danny and Sawyer flying
behind in tow, and they were there in less than a minute. Flanigan slammed the
office door shut, then checked to make sure no one was inside.
Danny gasped in surprise at the
sight in front of him. “When, where, what, why, how?” The office was in a
shambles, papers strewn everywhere. Sawyer recovered herself from the breakneck
dash they’d done, and one look at the place was enough to justify Flanigan’s
ravings.“Why do we even pay
security here, if people can just waltz in like this? What did they take?”
Flanigan
gulped and pointed to Danny. Sawyer’s mouth dropped open. “You mean…his
script!”
“I’m afraid so,” Flanigan said.
Sawyer’s pulse doubled as she looked to her friend. “Danny, please tell
me you had more than one copy!”
The orange tabby started to
perspire. “Well, I—”
“Oh, no...”
L.B. walked in and quickly shut the door again. He
was beside himself with worry, wringing his hands. “Oh, if this gets out...or
worse if the script gets out! A leak now could cost us more than any
profits we’d make!”
The studio owner tried to steady
himself, but the thought of ruin didn’t make things any easier. “With all the
hype we’ve already paid for, we simply have to recover that script
intact! Danny, I’m putting you in charge of it. You’ve got as much
invested in it as any of us. And remember, no police. No one here can
know about this, not even your old friends. We can’t have this getting out to
the press, or it could be the end!”
Sawyer, as always, was the
levelheaded one. “You’re leaving the recovery of a stolen script to an
actor/director? Okay, I can see your desire to avoid the press. They’d think
that this was just a publicity stunt. And we do need some help of the private type.
We need someone who can be discreet and doesn’t mind working for animals.”
Danny thought a moment, then his
countenance brightened. “You can count on me, sir! We’ll find out who’s done
this and make them wish they hadn’t! And I know just who to call on for this,
too. I just hope they’re available.”
“Whoever it is, I want them on
the case yesterday!” L.B. barked. “Get them here and save my...the studio’s
reputation!” Danny nodded resolutely and led Sawyer outside, while Flanigan bit
his nails and did his best to console his boss.
“You up for a quick trip to the
Big Apple?” Danny asked. Sawyer raised her eyebrows in surprise. “New York? Why
all that way?”
“You’ll see. We need an
experienced investigative team with a proven track record. Besides, New York’s
been good to us. Remember our Broadway reviews?”
“You better believe it, Danny,”
Sawyer said, smirking. “I love that town. But who’s so important that we have
to go all that way?” Danny pulled out a cell phone and placed a call,
then returned his attention to Sawyer. “Let’s head for the airport. We’ve got
the Mammoth jet warming up in the bullpen as we speak!”
In a montage sequence, Danny and
Sawyer quickly prepared, then rode to the airport. The Mammoth Studios private
Cessna C-10 was there, primed and waiting. A valet rolled a red carpet down
from the plane’s hatch over the stairs in time to cover the bottom step before
they could step on it. The cats boarded, the hatch closed and within a minute
they were in the air. Danny read the latest movie society papers while Sawyer
checked over their movie budget, wincing a couple of times. When they landed at
LaGuardia, a car was already waiting to pick them up.
The Rangers had just finished
dinner, and the sounds of Dale grumbling emanated from the kitchen. It was his
turn to do the dishes—they’d switched to hard plastic quite a while back—and
the fun-loving chipmunk grimaced, his arms halfway in the sudsy dishwater. “Why
can’t Gadget invent an automatic dishwasher...”
In the main room, the Rangers
were watching the evening news. Stan Blather, their favorite news reporter, was
doing a live shot. “...and the news on the war front continues to be
wait-and-see. In the world of entertainment, Mammoth Studios’ chairman L.B.
Mammoth today expressed great hopes for his company’s upcoming film, ‘A Street
Cat Named Desiree’.”
L.B. Mammoth’s visage appeared
on-screen. “We expect ‘Street Cat’ to be one of this studio’s greatest
achievements.” The picture switched back to Stan. “Word has it that Danny Cat
is writing and directing this modern musical interpretation of the Tennessee
Williams classic. Studio security is extra-tight to prevent any leaks, but we
understand filming will begin in two weeks.”
Gadget turned to the others, sitting on the
semicircular sofa with her. “Golly, I bet filmmaking must be exciting! Think of
all the great inventions that have gone into just making movies.”
“Too right,” Monty said. “Why, I
remember seeing those old crank-reel cameras they used to use. Me dad,
Cheddarhead Charlie, got hold of one once. Filmed a year of his life he did—won
the documentary award at the Cannes Film Festival, too! Of course, he traded it
in for a one-way ticket to Timbuktu and their annual goat cheese festival.”
“Just image, being able to be a
movie star!” Dale said. “The fast cars, the fame, the food!” Chip turned around
as Dale came into the room, still wearing his dishwashing gloves. “Take those
things off, Dale! You’re making a mess out of the floor. Did you clean all
the dishes this time?”
Dale saluted, splashing water on the sofa. “Chip,
they’re so clean you could eat off of ‘em!” Chip rolled his eyes—he was never
one for patience where Dale was concerned. “That’s the idea, silly. Now put
those gloves back in the kitchen and get back here! The movie’s about to start.”
Dale totally ignored Chip’s order
and jumped over the top of the sofa, landing right between him and Gadget.
“Oboyoboyoboy! Which one is it tonight?” Gadget was oblivious as usual to the
munk-fighting over who got to sit next to her. “Well, I thought since all the
movie talk’s about Danny at the moment, we’d watch one of his. How about one of
his hits from the 70’s, like ‘Squeaky Clean Dancing’ or ‘Sunday Morning
Bedrest’?”
“Booooriiiing!” Dale shouted.
“Hasn’t he made any movies with car chases or explosions?” Gadget crossed her
arms, frustrated. “Jeepers Dale, is that all you like? Danny’s always
tried to push for nice movies with a positive and uplifting message to them.
Isn’t that more important than a few random explosions and gratuitous onscreen
violence?”
Dale thought on it. “Uh…nope.”
“Gotta go along with you there,
Dale,” Monty said. “A bloke needs a bit of a punch-up ta have some fun every
now and again. All that dancin’ and singin’, well, it’s all right but it’s not
Monterey Jack’s cup of tea.”
“Well, I think it’s good,” Chip said. “After all,
he’s brought some higher culture to the masses. And that’s always worthwhile.”
Monty shrugged. “If you say so, mate. Me, I prefer a good dust-up or two. After
all, when was the last time a dancer scared anyone?”
A knock came at the door. Dale
(who still had those gloves on) rushed to be first but due to his slippery
gloves he couldn’t get the door open. Monty got up to give him a hand and opened it for him. Those at the couch
could hear the gasp in Monty’s voice. “C..c..ca..ca...CAT!”
Chip jumped up like lightning,
the thought flashing through his mind that their greatest enemy, the nefarious
Fat Cat, had finally found them. The other Rangers took cover as well, thinking
the same thing. Monty for his part was frozen in place, so it was a good thing
that it wasn’t a criminal at the door. Dale peeped around the paralyzed Aussie
to see a smiling, well-dressed orange tabby cat sitting cross-legged on the
limb outside their door.
Danny took off his straw hat, which
he still liked to wear when he traveled. “Hi there! Is this the home of the
Rescue Rangers?” Dale looked at the smiling feline’s face and took on a smile
of his own. “Gosh, you look just like that cat from the movies! Uh yes, we’re
the Rescue Rangers! What can we rescue you from?”
The cat took on a hopeful look.
“Um, total financial ruin?”
Dale couldn’t remember anyone
having come to them for that reason, but then again there was always a first
time. “Okay, that sounds reasonable. Come insi...er, outside and we’ll talk.
Hey gang, look who’s here!” Dale walked outside, wishing he’d brought his
autograph book. The others got up from their hiding places and came to the
door.
“Gee willikers! It’s Danny!” Gadget said.
Monty was still frozen in
place, but Zipper had flown to the kitchen and brought back a thimbleful of
water. Chip promptly doused him with it. “Pwah, wha...what happened!”
Monty shouted, starting to punch the air. “Where’s the fight?”
“No fight here, Monty,” Chip said, then gestured
outside. “Say hello to our new client, Danny!” Monty looked, and the cat was
still sitting there, smiling and waving his fingers at him. He didn’t freeze up
this time, but he was still dubious. “Uh, right. Pleased to meet ya—I think.”
The Rangers and Danny climbed down the treehouse to
the lawn below. Sawyer took one look at the lot of them and wondered whatever
had possessed Danny to think these little animals were the answer to their
troubles. Danny saw the look of course, and knew it well. “Look Sawyer, I know
they’re not that big, but they’ve solved countless crimes like this! Our old
friend Canina La Fur recommended them to me especially. She said that Mortimer
here—”
“Mont-er-ey…” the Aussie growled—Canina had a
penchant for mistaking his name.
“Er, Monterey helped her out of a big jam,” Danny
continued. Sawyer wasn’t convinced by any means. “But that was years and years
and years ago! I’ve heard of them too, but I think they’re a little
out of their league.”
Chip climbed up on top of a nearby park bench,
getting at eye level with Sawyer. “Hey, we may not be big, but that’s never
stopped us! We’ve beaten international spies, smuggling rings, supervillians,
evil twins, and corporate and animal pirates. If you’ve got a problem, we’re
willing to help!”
“I suppose it’s too late to call some Pinkertons in
on this...” Sawyer mused. “Okay, here’s the deal. Someone stole the script to
our upcoming movie and we have to get it back as quickly as possible.”
“Stole it? Golly, that’s terrible!” Gadget said.
“That’d be like someone stealing the blueprints to one of my inventions.”
“True, but it’s worse,” Danny said. “Unless we can
get it back before filming begins, we’re looking at a hundred million-dollar
project down the tubes! Not to mention my life savings.” Chip loved a big case,
and this was about as big as they came. “It looks like you’ve hired yourself
some detectives. We’ll leave immediately and find that script for you. Rescue
Rangers, away!”
Dale ran in front of Danny. “But first, could I have
your autograph?” Danny grinned. “Sure, be glad to!” Dale rushed back up inside
the treehouse, and while they waited Danny began to explain more about the
robbery to Chip. They were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal that came from
across the park lawn. It was a red-haired teenaged squirrel that was a friend
to the Rangers, and had a huge crush on Chip. In this case, Tammy wasn’t
looking at Chip, but at the cat speaking with him
“DANNY!” Tammy zoomed across the lawn in far less
time than any of them thought possible. The girl just stood there in her
rolled-up jeans and pink shirt, the bottom of it not tucked in as usual. Just
like Monty, she was frozen, but it was from being totally star-struck. Danny of
course was used to this, and took it in stride.
“Hello there, little lady,” Danny said. “Are you
okay?”
“Uh-huh...” she sighed.
Danny stuck out his hand to shake hers. “I’m Danny.
What’s your name?”
“Uh-huh...”
Chip chuckled. “Her name’s Tammy, Danny.” Tammy took
his hand, but still seemed barely aware of her surroundings. Dale came back,
and Danny signed his autograph book. Then he asked Dale for a blank page and
wrote one out for his admirer. “Let’s see…’to Tammy...thanks for being such an
adoring fan...Danny.’ There you go!”
Tammy took the autograph, her sparkling eyes still
fixed on Danny. He waved goodbye to her, and motioned Sawyer and the Rangers to
the waiting car. As they left, Tammy snapped back to reality. “It happened! IT
REALLY HAPPENED! Oh, I’ll never wash this hand again! Nevernevernever!”
As the giddy squirrel bounded off, Danny continued
to explain the problems they were facing. Chip went into detective mode,
already letting his mind try to sort things out. “So, who would be the most
likely candidates to do something like this? Who would profit most by the
picture not showing?” Danny shared a look with Sawyer. “Well, there’s
always Darla of course...”
“Darla Dimple?” Dale said. “I heard she was dead.
Okay, anybody else?” Sawyer ran through the list in her mind. “Any of the rival
studios could be involved—MouseWorks, Luniversal, Paramoot...not to mention the
small-timers who’d like to see Mammoth Studios in the tank. If any of them get
their hands on that script, the game’s up.”
“And there’s always the chance that either the media
or an overzealous fan broke in somehow,” Danny said. “Whatever the case, we’ve
got to act fast.”
“We can’t just assume it’s an enemy,” Chip said.
“Even someone you think of as a friend could be behind this. We’ll need to
investigate anyone close to this project and look into motive. You’re right, though,
we’d better hurry. There’s not much time to waste. As a precaution, Danny, I’d
suggest you get to work on a new script. Do it all from memory if you have
too.”
Danny rubbed his temples, trying to bring the world
into focus. “You’re right of course. I’ll try, but I really just typed the
story as I went along in a stream of consciousness. Whatever you need while
you’re in Hollywood, just let me know.”
Dale assumed a “wise old man” pose. “As Yoda says,
‘there is no try’.”
Monty, who didn’t dare take his eyes off Sawyer or
Danny, gulped at the thought he voiced. “The sooner we’ve solved this case, the
sooner we’re not working with ca...cats!”
Sawyer ignored the Aussie’s trepidation. “And if we
don’t solve this quick, there’s no more Mammoth Studios. I’m going to go along
with you on your investigation.” Chip immediately took exception with that
idea. “You? No, you’re not!” Sawyer got right in his face. “And why not,
pray tell?”
“Because you’d only slow us down or blow our cover!”
Chip countered. “Everyone in Hollywood knows you, not to mention everywhere
else.”
“I don’t care! I’m not going to sit on the
sidelines and watch while everything in life that’s important to me hangs in
the balance.”
“She does have a point there, Chip,” Gadget said.
“Besides, she could probably open some doors that we couldn’t.” Dale nodded,
pointing at Sawyer. “That’s obvious! She’s like, three feet taller than us.”
Chip bonked Dale on the noggin. “She means Sawyer
has influence, nuthead! Which she does, but we can’t be seen with her or
whoever’s involved will know something’s up. All right, Sawyer, you can run
interference for us. Use your influence to gather attention wherever we go, and
that’ll make it easier for us to slip into areas unnoticed.”
“Some of us won’t even need help,” Zipper buzzed.
The car stopped at the airport, and soon the Rangers
were flying first-class to Hollywood. When the plane landed, Dale ran down the
red-carpeted steps, having put on dark shades he got from somewhere. “Talent
scouts, here I am! Dale Oakmont, fame and fortune hunter!”
Dale looked for any sign of approval, but the tarmac
was empty. “Aw, nuts! Guess we’ll have to stick with detective work a while
longer.” Sawyer took her time, stopping when she got to Dale. “You remind me of
me when I got to this town, Dale. But it’s got a dark side you wouldn’t
believe. Stay naïve, you’ll enjoy your trip better that way.”
“I’m always naïve!” Dale said. “It makes the day go
faster!”
They piled into the waiting limo, and soon they were
at the majestic Mammoth Studios. Dale was running first to one side of the car,
then the other, pointing at the buildings and actors he’d seen in dozens upon
dozens of movies. “Wow, and there’s the old steam engine they used in ‘Death
Train From Planet Z’, and the old haunted house from ‘Flying Vampire Rutabagas’
and...”
“Is he always like this?” Danny interrupted.
“No, it’s usually worse,” Chip said.
They drove on through the various lots, reaching the
printing office. Everything was just as it had been when Danny left, and the Rangers
went to work immediately. After a series of tests, painstaking analyses and
following up a few theories, Chip reported to Danny, now at eye level with his
client thanks to the tall partition at the front of the office where printing
requests were received. “I’d say whoever did this was thorough, and did their
best to make it look like a random robbery,” Chip said. “So many papers were
strewn around, it gives it the feeling of a deliberate cover-up.”
Gadget emerged from a cloud of dusting powder. “Jeepers,
they didn’t leave fingerprints or anything!” Chip returned his attention to
Danny. “It almost had to be an inside job, since the thief knew when the
office would be empty. Who had access to this place at the time of the
robbery?”
“I think I can answer that one.” L.B. strode in,
with Flanigan at his side. “I spoke with the printing office manager, and the
list is a long one. Any of the studio janitors could’ve gotten in—they all have
keys. The senior staff has keys as well, including myself, Danny, Sawyer,
Flanigan—”
At that moment, Flanigan tapped L.B.’s shoulder.
“Actually, sir, I no longer have mine.”
“What’s this?” L.B. asked. Flanigan ducked in
embarrassment. “I sort of...lost my executive set. I had to get them replaced,
and I’m still waiting for the duplicates from security.”
“That’s two good possibilities, then,” Chip said.
“We’ll look into the janitorial and security staff for any irregularities.”
Sawyer broke in on him. “You’d better do it after-hours, which incidentally is
about to get underway. The studio closes in just under an hour.”
Danny headed for the door. “Say, why don’t I take
all of you out for a nice dinner, and then you can come back and get started?
I’ve rented a nice suite at the Hollywood Palace for you when you need to
rest.”
The others appeared to be about to accept Danny’s
offer, but Chip spoke up first. “We really appreciate the offer, but we’ve got
to focus all our energy on the case. When we’ve solved it, then we’ll be more
than willing to take you up on that. Don’t forget to get working on your
script!” Dale rushed up to his leader. “But Chip, I wanna pow-wow with the
big-wigs! Schmooze with the movers and shakers! Sell my life story!”
“There’ll be time enough for that later, Dale. If we
get this case done in time, I’m sure doors will open all over and even you’d
be able to sell a story here.”
“Zowie, do you think so?” Dale asked, getting
excited. “Maybe we could sell a story about the Rangers, and then we’d get our
own movie or a series on DVD!” Chip sighed and shrugged, looking apologetically
at Danny and Sawyer. “Could you have something brought in for us?”
“No problem, Chip,” Danny said. “Hollywood’s made
for that. I’m going to see what I can recover of my script from memory. Sawyer,
are you staying here?” Sawyer headed for the door with Danny. “I’ll let them
handle it for tonight, but when they start touring the studios in the morning
I’ll help them out. I think you and I need to talk some, anyway.”
“My thoughts exactly,” L.B. said. “Well Danny, it
appears that you’ve got some experienced detectives on the job. Keep me
updated.”
The famous cats left the Rangers to do their work,
and drove out of the studio. They had houses right next to each other in
Beverly Hills, and each one had come to treat the other’s house as their own in
matters of daily routine. Sawyer went with Danny to his house, where he had set
up his writing area in a private drafting room.
Danny did his writing on an old Corona typewriter,
in fact the same one that he had used when he infiltrated Mammoth Studios and
added the names of his friends to the invitation list for Darla Dimple’s
premiere. He’d considered it lucky, so he’d stuck with it. Now, he sat down in
front of the old keyboard, put a sheet of paper in, and sat there. “Oh
boy...maybe I should’ve upgraded to a computer, like you asked me to.”
“I could have one here in less than an hour for
you,” Sawyer said.
Danny eyed his old typewriter like it was an old
friend, as it truly was to him. “Uh, naw, better not. This will do fine. Okay,
page one, scene one...now how did the rest of the 90 pages go?” Danny scratched
his head, trying to put it all back into words. “Let’s see...college...football...streetwise
girl...college quarterback...”
“Danny, we need to talk,” Sawyer said. Danny kept on
banging the keys. “Uh, sure. What’s the topic?” Sawyer sat down, trying to
think of the best way to open the conversation. “I’m not sure those Rangers are
going to find anyone. Yes, I know that they’re supposed to have a reputation as
detectives and that you like them. I’m starting to like them a little myself,
but…”
“Say, could you give me a hand?” Danny asked,
pointing to one of the typewriter keys that had stuck. “You know more about the
ins-and-outs of these things than I do.” Sawyer got between him and his Corona.
“Danny, are you listening? You’re so wrapped up in getting this script done
that you don’t seem to be thinking straight!”
“What do you mean?” Danny asked. “I’m just doing
what I can to get things back in shape for filming and all.”
“I mean, we should be looking for the crook,
not a bunch of pint-sized sleuths!” Sawyer said. “Or better yet, someone with
the size and muscle to handle whoever’s taken your script!” Danny knew it was
more than that now. “What are you so worked up about, Starlight?”
“I’m worked up because you’ve put your entire
self-worth on the line, and if this falls through I’m afraid that you’ll—” she
stopped, looking at him curiously. “What did you call me?”
Danny ducked his head a little. “You remember—I
started calling you that after I sang that song, ‘You Are My Lucky Star’.”
Sawyer looked down a moment, remembering. She did recall it, and when she
looked back she was smiling. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.” Danny
smiled back. “Well, when you started getting upset, I remembered how you acted
that way in the movie and it just clicked. But you are my Starlight, though.
It’s there, in your eyes, in the way you move, the way you sing.”
“Oh, Danny,” she said, shaking her head. “What am I
going to do with you?”
“Help me to make this next dream come true, I
guess,” Danny said. “Now, let’s see what’s next.”
With Sawyer’s help, Danny got his Corona going again
and worked up a basic summary of his original story, attempting to expand it
from there. After an hour, he stood up, exhausted. “Sawyer, it’s just no good!”
the tabby cried. “I spent weeks coming up with original ideas, the songs and
even the choreography! I can’t possibly recreate all that in time for
filming! If the Rangers don’t come through for us...if they don’t come through,
we’ll be broke, finished.”
Sawyer knew that Danny could get down on himself,
especially when others were depending on him. “Hey! Don’t lose hope, Danny.
What happened to that swinging cat who could belt out a song and dance number
at any time or place? You’ve been so intent on this project for so long, maybe
you’ve lost sight of the old magic. You’ve got to calm down, relax! Let your
mind drift back to the good old days for once. Get in touch with the old
Danny.”
Deliberately, Sawyer walked over to the record
player. Danny couldn’t bring himself to upgrade from his beloved 78’s to 33’s
(he’d never dream of upgrading to CDs). She took out a jazzy classic and put it
on. “You always worked better with music playing.”
Danny was about to protest when the beat of Benny
Goodman’s “One O’Clock Jump” got to him. His feet started tapping, his eyes
closed, and a contented smile formed on his face. As the volume rose, he leaped
into the air and came down by Sawyer, taking her hand. She smiled and let her
dancing blood take over, and soon they were nearly flying across the room. They
cavorted like young kittens, moving to the rhythm, and when it finished they
were both on a higher level.
Danny immediately headed back for the typewriter.
“Okay, maybe I won’t get the whole story back, but I can least get all of it I
can. And maybe I can even write it better the second time!”
Sawyer stayed with Danny for a while to make sure he
got off to a good start on his script-writing, then retired to her own home. In
terms of interior design, it was the total opposite of Danny’s nostalgic
tastes. Everything was white, bright, spacious and modern. Sawyer liked things
cozy and convenient when she came home, and her butler, Stevens, a faithful old
Himalayan cat, did his best to assure that all was to her tastes.
Such was the case now and after a few words of
praise for her servant, Sawyer slipped into bed quietly. Tomorrow was sure to
be a long day.
Chapter 2 – A Change in Plans, a Change in Perspective, and Some Loose
Change
When the dawn came, Sawyer found the Rangers
assembled at the gate to Mammoth studios. “So, who’s going to check out
Mammoth’s rivals with me?” Both Chip and Dale tried to side up with Gadget, but
Chip ended up pushing the red-nosed munk forward. “You go with Sawyer, Dale.
You know the movie lingo better than the rest of us put together.”
Dale wanted to stay, but he had to admit what Chip
said made sense. “But I...oh, all right. Guess I’ll have to check out all the
glitz and glamour for myself!” Monty stepped forward. “What about me and
Zipper, Chip?”
“You go and check out Darla Dimple,” Chip said,
checking off a list on a clipboard he was holding. “See if she’s got anything
to do with this.” Monty and Zipper saluted. “If that lass is up ta something,
we’ll find it out!” Monty said.
“And what’ll I do, Chip?” Gadget asked.
“I need you to help me check over the rest of
Mammoth Studios. I’d also like to interview the cast and crew for Danny’s
picture.”
Sawyer pointed behind them. “You’ll find them on Lot
C, Chip. Stage 17. They’re all down there this morning, getting the scenery in
shape and the cast is getting fitted for costumes. Just remember, they don’t
know anything about this, so don’t let it slip.” Chip liked things well
ordered, and so far things were to his liking. “Good! We’ll meet back here
tonight and compare notes.”
The three groups went their separate ways. Dale
quickly forgot the wrangling over Gadget, because there was so much else to
catch his attention. Sawyer needed to check with Danny first before heading for
Luniversal, Mammoth’s chief competitor, so they headed off for Beverly Hills.
Dale was a ball of energy, looking left and right at all the action movie sets
on the Mammoth lot as they left the studio.
“I can’t believe I’m finally in Hollywood!”
Dale exclaimed. “The magic town! You’re so lucky; you have all kinds of
excitement and adventure. People look up to you and you’re around all these
famous people—well, you’re even famous. I wish I was a star!”
Sawyer pulled out her appointment book, making some
notes. “Dale, it’s not all peaches and cream, you know. You have most of your
life scripted, just like the roles we play. The studio tells you where to go,
what to do, what parties you have to be at and who you have to be nice to. You
end up having to share yourself with a lot more people than you ever thought
you would, and inevitably something you didn’t want anyone knowing about will
get leaked by a snoopy entertainment reporter. But all that aside, it’s a
pretty decent life as long as you don’t let it all go to your head.”
“Heh, nothing goes to my head!” Dale said, pointing
at his noggin. “Well, except Chip’s fist when he’s mad and all.”
“Why does he do that do you?” Sawyer asked. “Why do
you let him?”
“Aw, it’s nothin’,” Dale said. “Chip doesn’t really
mean it. It’s just the way he’s always done. Chip likes everything just-so, and
I’m just-so out of control!”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Sawyer said. “Well, try to
keep it under control for a bit, okay?”
Dale managed to rein in his curiosity for a minute,
but that was about as much willpower as the munk had. “Well, I guess nothing
really is like how it looks like on the outside. Is being in the movies as
exciting as watching ‘em?” Sawyer smiled, the topic turning to a favorite
subject. “Oh, a lot more. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot of hard work.
But when you’re in the spotlight and you feel that freedom it’s unlike any
other feeling. Especially when I sing or dance, it’s there, because it’s a part
of me reaching out to the audience.”
“I’m kinda surprised the studio’s making a musical,”
Dale said. “That stuff hasn’t been popular since my folks were kids. Maybe if
the musical had car chases and explosions it might work.”
Sawyer turned an annoyed eye in Dale’s direction.
“Excuse me? I beg to differ there. Musicals are timeless, and if they weren’t
popular then Broadway would just be an ordinary street name!” Dale ducked his
head, forgetting who he was talking with. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m just not into that
kinda stuff. It’s weird just watching people pretend to suddenly burst into
song. Things like that don’t happen in
real life, but explosions and all do.”
“Oh, singing does happen, but only if you’re open to
it and looking in the right places,” Sawyer said as they approached their
destination. “Okay Stevens, we’ll get out here.” When Sawyer and Dale pulled up
to the adjoining mansions that were Danny and Sawyer’s homes, the munk’s sense
of awe shot through the roof. “Wowie-zowie! Real movie-star homes! Can I see
your place too? Huh, can I? CanIhuhcanI?”
Sawyer spoke a few quick words to Stevens, then
started toward her house. “Come on, but we better make it quick. I figure
Danny’s hard at work, and he’ll want to know what we’re planning to do.”
Sawyer’s house was immaculate and modern, inside and
out. A two-story white Colonial style edifice with green shutters, it spoke of
both brightness and a conservative liking for style. That style was accentuated
on the porch, with a big green-and-gold “welcome” bow on the front door, plus
several beautiful ornamental potted hibiscus and geraniums.
When they walked in, Dale found his first impression
of the house augmented. Where the exterior said “welcome”, the interior said
“hope you like it, because I do”. Twin spiral staircases were accented by
chrome banisters leading down to the black-and-white checkered marble floor of
the entryway.
As they walked toward the stairs, a spacious doorway
revealed a high-ceilinged living room to the left. The floor here was covered
by an off-white berber rug, with plush white area rugs under the tables and in
front of the large fireplace. The sofa was a plush white as well, giving the
whole area a feeling of openness. Modest pictures of Sawyer, Danny, and
Sawyer’s family and friends lined the walls. A skylight in the ceiling let in
warming sunshine to further give the room that airy feeling.
The duo continued on, finding another door to the
right. This was the way to Sawyer’s professional-looking kitchen that could be
shut off when company was over. Felix her chef ruled this domain, and she let
him have free rein to create all of his culinary masterpieces. Behind the
ornate stairs were two smaller rooms, one to the left a trophy room that was
more for guests to look at than herself, and to the opposite side an
entertainment room with a big-screen television, surround speakers built into
the walls, and an alcove in the wall full of the latest electronic audio and
video gizmos.
In short, Dale was enraptured. “Wow! I could stay in
here for months and never got bored! I don’t suppose you’d like a houseguest—say
for a year or two?” Sawyer chuckled. “You’re pretty entertaining, but I think
we’d be shouting at each other by day three. We’d better be getting over to
Danny’s house and see how he’s doing with that script.”
Dale had been impressed with Sawyer’s house, but
Danny’s went beyond that for him. A stately-looking ivy-covered brick
manor-style building, the edifice gave the impression of age just looking at
it. “Danny had this building moved from England and reassembled here,” Sawyer
explained as they walked up the front walkway. “It used to belong to some old
toad or something like that.”
The front door was a huge oaken thing, and when they
knocked one of Danny’s servants—a lion named Leo—bowed and showed them in.
“Master Danny is in his writing study, Miss Sawyer. If you and your companion
would wait in the memento room?”
Sawyer and Dale headed to the right on the wooden
floor, bedecked with Oriental rugs, to a similarly-floored room. The memento
room was an homage to early Hollywood, and particularly to the musicals and
animals of the period. The natural wood walls were littered with photo frames,
with personalized autographs from such greats as Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly and
Rin Tin Tin.
Dale also noticed a picture of the MGM lion, and
looked back to Danny’s servant. “Say, Leo…”
“Yes?” the lion responded.
“Uh, nevermind…”
Several custom display cases showed memorabilia from
such movies as “Wizard of Oz”, “Singing in the Rain”, and “An American In
Paris”. One small item was displayed with some extra ostentation—a glass case
holding two bus tickets. Dale read the inscription. “Hey wow! ‘The ticket on
the left was the one I bought to come to Hollywood. The second was the ticket I
bought to go home, and it was on that bus that inspiration finally hit me and I
made my big break onto the Hollywood scene.’ “
“He’s a fool for sentimental things,” Sawyer said.
“He saved everything he could from all our movies and—” Leo returned, bowing.
“Miss Sawyer, Master Danny did not respond to my knocking.” Sawyer let out a
slight chuckle. “If I know him, he’s probably cat-napping. When we were on the
movie sets, you could always find him snoozing away between scenes in that
monogrammed chair of his when it was warm.”
“I’m fond of chipmunk napping myself,” Dale said.
“Especially when the late, late, late show’s over.” Sawyer and Dale followed
Leo through the austere house to another room with a large door. Sawyer knocked
then opened it, finding the cat in question using his typewriter for a pillow.
“I thought so.”
Sawyer padded over, Dale in tow. She pushed Danny a
couple of times on the back of his shoulder, causing him to blink and yawn.
When he sat up, his audience chuckled at the sight—the typewriter’s keys had
left a pattern on his facial fur.
“Wakey, wakey, Prince Charming,” Sawyer half-sung.
“You’ve got visitors.” Dale jumped up and down, doing his best to be noticed.
“Wow, Sawyer’s been showing me all kinds of cool Hollywood stuff!” Danny shook
off his sleepiness, embarrassed. “Oh, hello there! Sorry, must’ve dozed off.
So, what’s the plan for today?”
“We’re headed to Luniversal as soon as you’ve had
time to stretch and wake up,” Sawyer said. “You didn’t skip breakfast, did
you?” Danny woofed down the half-eaten muffin on the plate by his typewriter.
“Of course not! But uh, maybe it would be good to get up and stretch some.
How’s about I show you my place, Dale?”
“That would be great!” Dale said, then changed his
voice to a Robin Leach tone. “Lifestyles of the Rich and Furry!”
Danny laughed while Sawyer shook her head, and the
song and dance cat led the tour. The old manor house had a sense of warmth in
its interior, like its owner. To the right of the writing study was an old
library, imported with the original house. Antique clocks and furniture
accented the room’s feel, with a working turn-of-the-century dial face phone as
the final touch. Danny showed them through his private theater, pictures of old
movies and movie stars lining the walls, and a vintage projector in the rear.
When they came to Danny’s entertainment room, Dale was
expecting something like Sawyer’s setup. Instead they found an old Philco
black-and-white television set from the fifties in mint condition, with a
mélange of unique-looking antique radios of all sorts filling the room. Last on
the tour was Danny’s dance rehearsal and exercise room—a mirrored room with the
usual wooden railings on the walls in front of the mirrors for stretching and a
well-worn wooden floor that spoke of the hours of practice its master had put
in.
“Well, I hope you like the place, Dale!” Danny said,
resting a hand on one of the railings. “This room’s probably my favorite,
because here I’ll work up new dance steps and choreography. Musicals take a lot
of work and preparation, but the payoff’s great, don’t you think?”
Dale wanted to be nice, but also honest. “Well, Chip
did force me to watch ‘My Fair Lady’ once, it was okay. And then there was the
time we all went to the opera and had to listen to fat people hollering in
Italian for a few hours and then everyone died at the end. I dunno, Danny. I’m
not much into musicals.” He whiffed his fists through the air, boxing against a
pretend foe. “If you beat people up while singing and dancing, then I’d
probably watch it more!”
Dale’s reaction caught Danny off-guard. He was used
to having people compliment him, but Dale was pretty frank in his comment.
“You…don’t like musicals? But you seem like such a fun-loving guy!
Surely you like to sing and dance, don’t you?”
“Song and dance isn’t ‘real’ enough anymore! People
want the darker and edgier stuff. I like to see good versus evil and the bad
guy getting crushed by the hero! There aren’t really any musicals or any kind
of song and dance stuff you can do with that. There’s no, well, no ‘Terminator,
the Musical’!”
Danny stared at him for a few moments, and Sawyer
was afraid that he’d want to terminate this critical munk right then and there.
However, that wasn’t what happened. “Hmm... ‘Terminator, the Musical’...” Danny
mused.
Sawyer saw the speculative look in Danny’s eyes, and
didn’t like it. “Uh oh—when he starts to ‘hmm’, something’s about to come
up...” Danny’s face changed in an instant then, going from a look that was deep
in thought to a ‘Eureka’ moment. “THAT’S IT! That’s what was missing!”
Danny shook Dale’s hand vigorously. “Wow, I can’t
thank you enough!”
“Huh? What?” Dale said, totally clueless. “Uh, what
did I do? Uh, I mean, I meant to do that! Sawyer, what did I do?” Sawyer
watched as Danny ran off, yelling at Leo to give him a pencil and some paper.
“You got me, Dale. When he’s like this, it’s best to humor him.”
Danny came back in a couple of minutes, all charged
up. “Wow, is this musical ever going to have a great climax! The home
team comes out on the field, led by their brave quarterback, the game on the
line. On the other size—Max the Marauder. He’s determined to take our
hero down, and it’s a battle of wills and strength combined with upbeat musical
flair that’ll have the audience begging for a sequel! That reminds me, better
find out where Max is these days…”
Dale watched the hyperactive
cat skipping around the room. “A musical sequel? I’ve never heard of anything
like that. And a football musical? Guys singing and tackling each
other?”
“Well, not at the same time of course,” Danny said,
now writing again. “But it’ll combine the sheer energy and pulse-pounding power
of the sport with a great hero rising above the odds to save the day! And of
course, a strong and supportive female lead to make sure he gets there, right
Sawyer?”
Sawyer crossed her arms and smiled in a “what else”
expression. “How could he hope to triumph without his girl Friday?”
“Exactly! Dale, that’s what the musical
world’s all about—adapting while keeping that fun-loving spirit to it. Say, why
don’t you and I try something? I bet you’re a natural when it comes to fun.”
Dale took a step backwards. “Me, sing and dance?
I’ve done a little, but mainly just the times on cases where we had to whip up
a routine on the spot with no preparations. But that’s completely different.”
Danny wasn’t fazed by his protests a bit. “Oh, not at all! Sawyer, if you
would?”
Sawyer went over to Danny’s antique record player
and inspected a line of records he had on two long shelves. Selecting one, she
pulled out the old platter and set it on the turntable. Giving the player a
couple of turns on its crankshaft, she got it going and put the needle in
place. The music was Tommy Dorsey’s “Flying Home”, a real hot jazz tune.
Immediately, Danny’s feet were tapping.
“Okay Dale, just watch me and follow my lead!” Danny
said.
“But I don’t know how to—”
Danny started to sway with the quick beat of the
trombones and trumpets, smiling more all the time. Dale watched him, and began
to feel the bang of the drums reverberating through the wooden floor and
hitting his feet as the saxes joined in. Danny threw his arms up in the air,
and Dale matched him, both now synched to the beat. The pace picked up, and the
sway became a spin and step, with both of them spinning around and putting a
confident right foot forward, then spinning back to the left.
They snapped their fingers to the rhythm, shifting
just their feet now along with the beat. Then they stretched their arms out and
started pumping their fists in alternate rhythm. Pointing to the floor, they
accented it with a series of big, big jumping stomps as the base drum did a whompwhompwhompwhompwhompwhompwhomp...WHOMP!
Cat and munk were laughing now, cavorting and doing
whatever came to them as the music was at a fever pitch. It reached a crescendo
of trumpets and trombones, and Dale and Danny were running in place, side by
side, then slid to the floor on their knees, going down fast in a worship-like
motion on the last beat of the drum and cymbals.
Sawyer clapped approvingly, and the two glory hounds
jumped up and bowed to their audience. “See? What’d I tell you? Great fun,
isn’t it?” Danny asked. Dale caught his breath. “Yeah, it was! Wow, that was
fun! But how do you get that across to someone sitting in a movie theater?
Dance is kind of old-timey.”
“Well, no one said that it couldn’t be new again!”
Danny said, all pumped up. “All it takes is the right touch. You just wait—this
musical, you’re going to like.” Dale thought about it. “I guess you’re
right. Disco’s coming back, and if that can come back, anything can.”
Danny grinned—he could see that this convert wasn’t
going to be an easy one. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, friend. Say, you
two’d better get back over to Luniversal and the other studios while you can.”
“How’s the new script coming?” Sawyer asked. Danny
settled down on the floor, cross-legged. “With the help of our friend here, I
think it just got the extra spark of inspiration that’s going to make it a real
winner! Of course, I’ll have to make a couple of changes, but I think it’ll
really pay off in the end! Leo, you around?”
Leo came quickly and escorted Sawyer and Dale to the
door. Danny followed in a few moments, but his body language showed that he was
eager to be writing now. “I’d better get back to it while it’s all fresh in my
mind. Thanks for visiting!”
Back at Mammoth, Chip and Gadget had already
conducted several interviews of staff that were involved in Danny’s production
and now they were headed for Lot C and the actual filming site
“Golly Chip,” Gadget said, “I’ve often wondered what
it would be like to visit a movie set! The amount of technical knowledge
required to make a movie is just amazing.” Chip reveled in having this time
alone with the mouse inventor. In a tight-knit group like the Rescue Rangers,
such moments were rare indeed. He grinned as she gawked at the Hollywood technowizardry
around them, chuckling inwardly at her “kid in a candy store” reaction.
“You bet it is. And you’d make a great leading lady,
Gadget.”
Gadget chuckled. “Oh, that’s silly, Chip! Who would
want to watch me? I think you’d make a good leading man, though. With that hat
and jacket, you remind me of someone, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Chip was about to follow up on that, but then he saw
a sign for Danny’s movie outside one of the sound stages they were approaching
and remembered they had a job to do. He led the way as the two Rangers entered
Stage 17 and found a menagerie of crew, actors and stagehands buzzing about the
stage like bees in a beehive.
The banging of hammers mixed with amplified voices
of the sound crew doing mike checks, making it a challenge to even concentrate
at first. Gadget tugged on Chip’s jacket and pointed to a trailer where a sign
indicated costuming was going on. Chip nodded and they went in to find a bunch
of animals getting fitted for traditional college wear and/or football gear.
A gruff-looking old goat in a coach’s outfit eyed
them menacingly. “What’re you two doing in here? There’s no mice or chipmunks
on the roster. Get lost!” Gadget held up her hands apologetically. “Sorry,
we’re trying to help here. Danny brought us in to—”
Chip covered her mouth. “What she means is, Danny
brought us in to make sure everything’s going smoothly and that no one sneaks
onto the set and tries anything.” He smiled, then led Gadget over to a corner.
“Remember, no one but the studio brass knows the real reason why we’re here,”
Chip whispered. “We have to keep this under wraps.”
Cranston marched over, coming eye to eye with
Chip—okay, Cranston was leaning over. “You! What was he thinking?” Chip
took it in stride. “He was thinking smart! We’re the Rescue Rangers.”
“Never heard of you,” Cranston said dismissingly.
“Why don’t you go rescue some rangers, and butt out of our business?” Before
Chip could retort, a big female hippo in an oversize cheerleading outfit saved
him the trouble. “Cranston!” Tillie said. “That’s no way to treat someone
trying to help us!”
“It is where I come from...” Cranston grumbled.
Tillie thumped him, knocking him into the trailer
wall, and creating a nice impression of his head in it. She focused her
attention on the two rodents at her feet. “Sorry about that, but he is a cranky
old goat after all. My name’s Tillie, that was Cranston....” She took a deep
breath. “TheothersarePeebo,T.W.,Woolie,Frances,staff, dressingcrewandthat’saboutit! Oh,
what’s your names?”
Chip was left in a tizzy, but Gadget was used to
fast talkers having lived with chipmunks so long, not to mention her own
tendency to babble. “Hi, I’m Gadget Hackwrench! We’ll do everything we can to
keep anyone from messing with your movie. It’s important to animals everywhere
that this gets made.”
“And I’m Chip,” the fedora-clad munk said, once his
head stopped spinning. “Yeah, we’ll keep anyone from messing with things.” A
short little penguin—still twice the Rangers’ size—waddled over in some
football shoulder pads. They were far too large for him, and the penguin had to
just about stand on tiptoes to keep the lower edges of them from dragging the
floor. “Hi, I’m Peebo Pudgemeyer, but call me Pudge. Do you think someone’s
going to try to sabotage the movie?”
“Well, we hope not,” Chip said. “We’re going over
every possibility for security’s sake, though. We solve crimes for a living.”
Peebo was impressed. “You do? Wow! That sounds neat.”
A rather nervous—okay, a very nervous turtle
followed Pudge over to them, doffing his bowler hat. “I hope nothing happens,”
T.W. said. “Yesterday, I forgot to jump the 13th step up to my home! Disaster
could be around the corner!”
“Oh, that’s silly!” Gadget said. “There’s no such
thing as luck. Do any of you have any ideas on how anyone might try to sabotage
the film?” An old female fish slid a glance over toward Cranston, who had
managed to divest himself from the trailer wall. “Knowing old Billy goat here,
he could eat it like spaghetti,” Frances said.
“Fiddlesticks!” Cranston retorted. “I’d keep an eye
on some of the wage slaves around here. They’re griping about their onionskin
paychecks again! Kick ‘em all out, I say!”
“I hope there aren’t any black cats around...” T.W.
said, shaking at the thought.
Tillie shrugged. “Most people in this town love
Danny—well, as long as L.B. loves him, anyway.” Chip nodded, continuing his
questioning. “Has anyone been particularly against the making of this picture?”
“No, not really,” Pudge said. “A musical is
kinda unique and all these days, but Danny came up with answers for everyone’s
questions.” Tillie nodded, grinning. “He silenced the critics all right!
Convinced ‘em that we’re overdue for a revival of the modern musical in the
motion pictures. But uh...” Tillie leaned down, whispering. “It’s been spread
around that L.B.’s hedging his bet. He’s supposed to have some kind of escape
policy in case the movie flops.”
Chip filed that tidbit away. “Probably he’ll let
Danny take the fall if it doesn’t work out.”
Gadget meanwhile was looking around at all the costumes. “I
think it’s a good idea to make a musical. It would be a nice change from all
the violence and stuff that’s on TV.” Cranston raised an annoyed eyebrow at
Gadget’s comment, but she just smiled sunnily at him. The goat shook his head and
walked off.
Pudge edged up next to Gadget, now free of his
shoulder pads. “I think the movie’ll be good too. I’m going to be the center on
the football team!” Gadget tried to imagine the little penguin holding back
anyone. “Golly, is that safe?” Pudge grabbed a drinking straw and bent it. “Oh
sure. I may be little, but I’m strong!” Then Pudge emphasized his statement
further by picking up Chip with one flipper and setting him back down. Gadget
giggled at the penguin’s antics, and it was time to continue their
investigation.
As Dale and Sawyer left Danny’s house and entered
the limo, Dale looked up at his feline companion. “Uh, what was that all about
with Danny? I’ve never seen anyone who just goes off dancing like that.” Sawyer
grinned back. “It’d take too long to explain. Danny has those bursts of
inspiration like that sometime. Stevens, we’re going to Luniversal now.”
The Himalayan nodded, tipping his chauffeur’s cap,
and drove out of the driveway. Luniversal was a splash of primary colors and
eye-catching characters, which naturally appealed to Dale. When they passed the
Luniversal set for “T-Rex World”, Sawyer asked Stevens to stop.
“Very good, Miss Sawyer,” Stevens said, coming
around and helping Sawyer out of the car. Immediately, she was beset upon by
several autograph hounds who were touring Luniversal. She was glad to oblige,
then she along with Dale headed for the “T-Rex” set.
“I’ve got a few old friends over here I’m going to
do some casual talking with,” Sawyer explained. “You go ahead and watch the
filming. Looks like they’re about to shoot a scene.” Dale was already
distracted by all the high-tech gadgetry the set provided. “Okay, I’ll just
stay here and keep out of the way.”
After she had walked away, Dale watched the filming
as best he could. From where he was he wasn’t able to see much. “I guess it
couldn’t hurt to get a little closer to the action.” Dale began working
his way deeper into the set, then stumbled over a wire, causing it to come free
from a metal cylinder that was part of a row of about twenty.
Dale gasped, not sure what the canister would do.
“Gosh, someone could get hurt with all this stuff laying around! I’d better put
this back in.” Dale quickly reconnected the wire, but the moment he did, he was
thrown to the ground by a deafening explosion. The tubes each launched the
special effect they had been placed there for, fire and sparks shooting up from
all over and soon every special effect on the set was going off all at once.
People and animals were scrambling wildly in panic, screaming.
After a few moments, the red-nosed chipmunk dared to
poke his proboscis out from hiding, along with the rest of his face. “Uh, I
hope Chip doesn’t find out about this.” Dale ran for cover, hoping no one had
seen him. No such luck—he ran right into Sawyer, with the film’s director right
next to her. “Dale!” Sawyer shouted. “I leave you alone for five minutes
and...how did you manage all that?”
Dale looked behind him to see that the set was now
in ruins. People were coming out from hiding and a fire crew had just arrived.
“Oh, I dunno. Just comes natural, I guess.” Sawyer turned to the director, a
sheep who was eyeing Dale. “I’m sorry, Mr. Springberg. It won’t happen again.”
“Are you kidding?” the director said, throwing up
his hands. “That was great!” Both Dale and Sawyer did a double-take and
Springberg continued. “It was just the feel of surprised terror that the scene
needed! Of course, we’ll have to edit your friend out of the final take,
Sawyer. Dale, was it? How’d you like to be a triceratops?”
Dale’s eyes bulged out in pleased surprise. “Can I
Sawyer? Huh, can I, can I?” Sawyer grabbed Dale’s arm. “Not today, Dale. You’ll
have to handle that end in digital postproduction, Mr. Springberg.”
“Okay, that’ll work,” Springberg said. “Nice meeting
you again, uh, Dake—too bad you’re not bigger. I could use someone with that
kind of talent for destruction!”
Dale begged once more, but Sawyer was adamant. As
they headed for the car, Sawyer filled him on what she’d learned. “I traded a
little dirt with the director, and found out that they’re curious about Danny’s
film and how it’ll turn out but nothing more. Oh, they did mention that the
studio big-wigs were interested in courting L.B. to come to Luniversal, but
that’s pretty much industry policy.”
“I’m sorry I messed up, Miss Sawyer,” Dale
apologized. “I just have a habit of things like that happening when I’m around.
I’m just so excited to be here in town! That’s probably why we’ve never come
here before, because they knew I’d go crazy...er…”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Sawyer said. “You’re
just about the same way Danny was when he got here from Kokomo.” Sawyer smiled,
thinking back on that time as they got in the limo again then exited shortly
once they reached an empty sound stage.
Sawyer showed her diminutive friend around. “This
Luniversal stage was where I first tried to get into Hollywood. Ended up being
a stage hand, but it was better than nothing. But getting back to what I said
about Danny, he was so fired up, so determined to succeed. I didn’t think he
had a chance at first—I’d seen so many animals have their dreams squashed,
including mine. But Danny wouldn’t give up, and ultimately he resurrected all
our dreams! Now, he’s putting it all on the line again, and unless we come
through it could all be over...”
Sawyer got a far-away look in her eyes, and in her
mind she could hear some soft jazz playing in the background, slowly. She began
to sing, that silky-smooth voice she was so admired for filling the huge room:
It’s alllll or nothing One shots are…all he knows His dreams, they grow and grow Big as liiiiiife
All the years All the tears And now, it’s all on
the line
Win or lose I’ll be there ‘Cause his dreams are mine...
We’ve got to give it our all This time, it’s alllll or
nothing... And-nothing-less-than-all…will
doooooo....
Sawyer continued to stare off into the distance a
few moments more, than looked down at Dale, smiling wistfully. Dale stared
back, amazed. “Zowie, people really do burst into song!” Sawyer nodded, then
finished her reprise.
It’s allllll or nothing, And it’s got to be all ....now...toooooooooo…
From behind, a crowd that had gathered burst into
applause, breaking both cat and chipmunk out of the melodic moment. They nodded
and waved in kind, then headed back for the car to continue their search at
Paramoot and MouseWorks.
Leaving the trailer, Chip and Gadget talked to the
stage and technical crews on Stage 17, the latter taking up most of the day as
Gadget talked on with them in a running conversation of technobabble. When they
left the stage, she was positively giddy. “Gosh! I think if I weren’t a Rescue
Ranger, I’d love to be a Hollywood movie technician. Just think—with a mix of
pyrotechnics, digital overlays, proper costuming and set design you could
literally do anything! I wonder if their director’s chairs have built-in
ejection seats...”
Chip was only half-listening as his pretty
counterpart spluttered on about the electronic and mechanical marvels she’d
seen. What Tillie had told them about L.B. stuck in his mind. Of course it
could be rumor, but what if it wasn’t? It warranted a closer look at the files
and at L.B.’s financial transactions. It could be tricky, but if he was the one
behind all this it was imperative to know it now rather than later.
He just had to find…then another thought suddenly
thrust itself into his mind and he stopped. Gadget realized after a few moments
Chip wasn’t keeping up and looked back. “What is it, Chip?” The chipmunk
detective was staring off into space, thinking. “Nothing…nothing really. I just
had a thought.”
At the same time Chip and Gadget had first entered
the costume trailer, Monty and Zipper had tracked down the home of Darla
Dimple, former child star. They found she wasn’t home, but her butler gave them
two tickets to the afternoon taping of the talk show she now hosted. For
several years, Darla had been blacklisted in Hollywood, so she’d turned to the
lecture circuit and finally television. Now, “Darla!” was a
nationally-syndicated program that catered to the low-brow crowd and the
problems that many of Hollywood’s more famous citizens faced.
Monty and Zipper found they had front-row seats, and
when the saw the set’s décor they wished they hadn’t—it was all pink with a
mockup of Darla’s dimpled face smiling on the rear wall of the set and “Darla!”
written beneath that in fancy cursive. The interviewer’s desk and the chairs
included impressionistic mock-ups of Darla’s curly hairdo on top. Monty was
about to get up and wait until after the show was over when Darla came out and the
applause signs went up.
The crowd was raucous and rowdy—just the way Monty
liked it—and that helped the Aussie to change his mind. “Thank you, thank you!”
Darla said, blowing kisses. “You’re all too much. On today’s show, we’re going
to talk about phobias, and my guest star today is a guy that can attest to it.
Ladies and gentlemen, let’s have a big Darla welcome to Professor Norton
Nimnul!”
The crowd alternately booed or whistled, according
to cues. Monty and Zipper were shocked that their old mad scientist enemy was
here, and it was certain not to be long before the unbalanced professor
reciprocated that sentiment. Darla showed the short balding bespectacled
scientist, wearing his white lab coat, to the guest chair. She walked up a
small pink spiral staircase that led to her big comfy host’s chair behind the
spacious pink desk.
Darla put her pudgy elbows on the desk, taking on a
look of mock sympathy. “Now Professor, you tell Darla alllll about what
happened to you...” Nimnul leaped out of his seat and began gesturing wildly
around the set. “It’s all about a bunch of insidious rodents named the Rescue
Rangers! They interfere with my work all the time! How can I get any
devastation done if they’re always breaking my brilliant inventions! I even got
my head switched onto the body of that icky fly of theirs once! Stupid rodents,
I hate them all!”
“Oh, you do?” Darla asked, taking on an
innocent tone. “Well then, I don’t think you’re really going to like the next
guest we have.”
“And who would that be, as if I cared?” Nimnul
asked. Darla grinned mischievously and pressed a button on her desk, causing a
hole to open in the floor. Out of that hole, using the old Bugs Bunny elevator
trick, came Slappy Squirrel. A caption on the bottom of the screen showed
“Slappy Squirrel: Rodent”.
“Hey, what gives!” Nimnul said, then gasped. “A big
disgusting rodent!”
“Eh, stuff a sock in it, Einstein,” Slappy said,
stopping to cough a bit. “I’m getting triple scale for puttin’ up with you for
five minutes, though if I can find some dynamite we might be down to three.”
Slappy walked over to the irate professor. “You know, you remind me of a
young…actually, I can’t think of anyone you remind me of. What loony bin did
you escape from, anyway?”
“I am not a loony!”
Nimnul shouted, accenting this point by jumping up and down a lot. “I’m simply
here to voice the opinion of all mad scientists everywhere about no-good rats
and bugs interfering with their legitimate evil schemes!”
“I’ll say you’re buggy,” Slappy said.
Monty became indignant at being called a rat and
leaped to his feet, rolling up his sleeves and running out on stage. “The
Rangers ain’t rats! We’re mice and chipmunks!” Zipper was right there too, of
course. “And don’t forget the fly!”
Nimnul froze in shock when he saw Monty and worse...Zipper.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! THE VERMIN!”
Nimnul began running around like a chicken with its
head cut off, much to the pleasure of Darla and the producers. The audience was
beside itself with laughter. Slappy waited for the right moment, then brought
out a huge mallet and conked the hysterical human on the noggin. “Now that’s
comedy!” she said, taking a bow to the applauding audience.
Monty took advantage of the moment to confront
Darla, jumping up on her desk. “Hey, you! I hear you ain’t got any love for
Danny, after what the bloke did to ya. Bet you’re egging to get back at him,
ain’t ya?” Darla had been enjoying the professor’s antics, but now the Aussie
mouse had hit her sore spot. She began having a conniption right then and
there. “HE RUINED MY LIFE! Of course I want back at him, and someday I’ll
figure out a way to get him back, too!”
Darla sneered as the guards hauled Nimnul off, then
returned her attention to Monty. “Are you DONE now?”
“Only gotta point out that you did the
ruining, lass. If you’d played it straight, you wouldn’t be here on this
fourth-rate show. Lots of things are better in life than fame and fortune, ya
know.”
Darla took on a smug look. “Oh? Name one!”
At that moment, somewhere off-stage, some poor soul
made the mistake of getting a tray of snacks ready. What was on that tray
caused Monty’s moustache to tingle. “I’ll gave ya one! Chee-yee-eee-eee-eezzzeeeee!”
Monty was caught in a cheese attack, and ran right
though Darla’s interview desk, causing it to collapse—not to mention Darla.
“YAAAAH! Where’s Max when I need him!” Slappy had long since decided to stand
aside and watch the mayhem. “You know, this reminds me of my first day on set
with Weed Memlo. Of course, it was the last day, too.”
The audience was whooping it up over all this
action, and the stagehands were trying their best to stop Monty. If they’d
known him, they would’ve known better. The motivated mouse headed straight for
the cheese tray, gobbling up its delicacies in seconds. The attack ended, and
Monty relaxed. “Aaaaah...nothing like a bunch of sharp cheddar ta mark a grand
adventure...”
Zipper hovered over him, shaking his head. “Monty, I
can see why we leave the detective work to Chip.” Zipper flew over, landing by
Monty. He couldn’t talk well, but his disapproving look spoke volumes. Monty
ducked his head. “Aw, now don’t be that way, Zip ol’ pal! Besides, we got what
we came after. If the lass had the goods, she’d be trying ta cover things up,
but instead she blurts out on national TV that she wants back at him. Unless
she’s just a Grade-A fool, she didn’t do it.”
“Well, I suppose that makes sense. Okay, what’s the
next step?” Zipper didn’t have long to wait for that one. Darla emerged from
the rubble of her desk, beyond irate. “I HATE ANIMALS! Get them out. OUT! OUT!”
Monty looked around for the exit. “That lass has got some loose change
upstairs, mate! I think that’s our cue to go walkabout!”
“Or runabout...” Zipper said. The two Rangers made
flank speed for the exit, Darla ranting and raving in the middle of her trashed
stage.
Chapter 3 – A Dream of a Story
Across town, the atmosphere was a lot more peaceful.
Possibly too peaceful, as Danny was beginning to tire once again. He’d been
working on his new script all day, without taking a break. In the middle of the
first act, the cat stopped, trying to talk himself through what he’d previously
written while adding in new material.
Danny sat up in his swivel chair and picked up the
small pile of typed pages sitting next to him, looking them over while leaning
back in his chair. “Okay, so far so good. Act 1, Scene 1, the train pulls up to
the train station and a beautiful woman steps off the train. She’s got all her
worldly goods in the suitcase she’s carrying. Her mind is filled with dreams of
the future as she enters this new town, a stranger in a strange land...”
Danny looked over the words, trying to remember if
he’d included all the good ideas he’d come up with. As he read, he found it
increasingly harder to concentrate. His reading slowed more and more until it
was just a mumble, and then his eyes closed. In a few moments, he opened them
again to find himself looking up into a blue autumn sky. Then he looked down to
find he was dressed in a football uniform.
“Hey what gives?” Danny said.
A clock tower in the distance struck two, taking his
attention off of himself, and he realized he was on a small college campus.
Animals of all kinds, dressed like students out of the fifties, were walking,
talking and cavorting all around him. Danny was right in the middle of campus,
next to an old railroad station. As he watched, he heard the whistle of a train
coming in the distance.
Danny headed for the station, grinning. This was the
opening scene of his movie. The train drew near, slowing as it approached the
old brick station in the small southern college town of Tuberville. The train’s
brakes set in and, with a loud hiss, the train came to a halt. This was the
freshman train that brought new students to begin their postsecondary careers.
Among them was a white female cat named Desiree
Summers who had come down south from Chicago. She was a Chi-Town native who had
enjoyed the life of a street cat, growing up amid the iron and steel monoliths.
Now she wanted to try her wings, and she’d decided to see what another part of
the world was like.
Desiree stopped at the top step of the train—she was
dressed conservatively, wearing a white blouse under her dark blue sweater that
had the orange Tubervillle Tech “T” stitched on the right front along with a
cream-colored skirt. “Boy, this is sure a cow college...” A cow next to her on
the train steps, dressed in a similar college sweater to hers, tapped her on
the shoulder. “You got a problem with that?”
“Oh no, just an observation.”
Desiree looked around. To the horizon in every direction
there were fields as far as the eye could see. This was farm country, and small
Tuberville Tech only took up about half of the area she could take in. The big
brick buildings and landscaping were nice, though, with the blooming magnolia
trees and beds of marigold and lilies. It was all foreign to her, and she
didn’t know what to do next. She saw a uniformed porter and hailed him as she
walked off the train onto the station’s wooden platform. “Hello! Can I get some
help with my baggage?”
The porter started to walk over, stopping halfway
and pointing at her. “Wow, look who’s here!” Desiree smiled. “Well, that’s nice
of you to—” The porter zoomed right by her, going up the train steps and
pulling out a red carpet, which he rolled down the steps and onto the platform.
“It’s the pride of Heartland High!”
Everyone within shouting distance immediately ran
for the train station. An old goat, dressed in a coach’s uniform, took center
stage on a makeshift podium. The crowd cheered wildly. “Settle down, or you’ll
all run ten laps around the school!” All was quiet and the coach continued,
Desiree watching all this to the left and behind the big crowd. “I have the
pleasure to introduce to you our new freshman quarterback sensation and number
one signee, Stan Kowalski!”
Cheerleaders lined the exit from the train, shaking
their pom-poms. “Stan! Stan! Stan!”
Stan appeared, in the Tuberville Tech uniform. The band ran
up and played, “Hail to the Chief” as the student body kow-towed to him. Stan
smiled, flashbulbs popped everywhere, and he came down the steps and up the
podium to the mike. “ Now, now, hold your applause! I’m just glad to be here,
and help ol’ Coach Vince to win ‘em all!”
The crowd went wild, and porters ran up from
everywhere to take all of Stan’s luggage. Desiree crossed her arms, disgusted
with the whole thing. She sighed, then tried to decide what to do next.
Meanwhile, one of the cheerleaders, a cute blonde-haired bunny named Blanche,
sauntered up to Stan.
“Hi there, big boy,” Blanche said, confident. “I’m
Blanche Dubois, head cheerleader. Guess what? You get to escort me to the pep
rally for the new team’s arrival!” Blanche made the biggest show of taking
Stan’s arm, but Stan’s attention was already elsewhere.
“Sure, Blanche. Anytime.” And with that, Stan walked
off, catching up with Desiree. “Hi there! New student?”
Desiree looked at him, unimpressed. “Who are you and
why are you so nosey, bub?” Everyone around Desiree stopped and looked at her,
to see if she was serious. One of the cheerleaders, a large hippo named Gertie,
walked over. “Why, don’t you know? He’s Stan Kowalski, the new quarterback for
the Tuberville Tech Tigers! He only threw for five thousand yards and fifty
touchdowns last year!”
“Uh, actually it was fifty-two…” Stan
corrected. Several girls in cheerleading outfits gathered around the new
quarterback. “Stan! Stan! He’s our man! If he can’t do it, no one can!
Yaaaaaay!” Danny...er Stan smirked at Desiree. “That answer your question?”
Desiree shrugged. “So, looks like there’s not much to do around here. What do
you guys do for fun?”
Stan grinned from ear to ear.
“It’s funny you should ask…” From somewhere some peppy marching band music
started up.
You don’t have to look real hard To find out what we like! Just listen close and give a toast While I stand up to the mike!
The marching band appeared, and the students
gathered around, cheering, as Stan grabbed the mike from the podium.
It’s foot-ball, that game we
love to play! The cheering fans, the daring
plans, A touchdown on the way!
It’s foot-ball, the rivalries
are best! A stadium all full of folks Who come from east and west!
It’s foot-ball, it’s
foot-ball! That…game…that we looooove!
Stan led the way through campus, picking up his
feet, the band marching right behind. Desiree kept up as best as she could,
then she stopped when she saw the huge brick and concrete football stadium. It
was by far the largest thing on campus, and everyone was heading into it.
Desiree walked in, where Stan was running a few plays with the team. Players
were bashing each other and the crowd was eating it up. Then Stan came over to
the sidelines and led a huge student pep rally. He saw Desiree and pulled her
over, continuing his reverie.
When we play a home game It’s excitement all the way! Ev-’ry-one will stand and scream Until the fin-al play!
A win will mean a happy year A loss would be a crime! It’s foot-ball, the best sport Of…allllllllllllll…tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime!
The band wrapped it up, and the pep rally ended.
Stan walked Desiree out to the middle of the field, showing her the great
expanse that was Tuberville Tech Stadium. “So, what do you think? Pretty neat,
huh?”
Desiree looked at it all. “I hate sports.”
The buzz of activity stopped, and the students who
were filing out halted and stared. Stan for his part was shocked, his mouth
open. “You...you hate sports?” Desiree gestured at the field around
them. “Sports is just a bunch of big sweaty guys hurting each other. If you
people put half the effort into classwork that you put into sports, imagine
what you could accomplish!”
“Bu..bu..but, but...”
The coach, an old goat by the name of Pat Vince,
marched out on the field. “Get off my field! Go on, before you ruin the turf!”
The two of them walked off, and Stan caught Desiree’s hand. “Um, y’know, I’d
really like to see you again. How about coming to the big game on Saturday?
Everyone’s going to be there...”
“Almost everyone,
hon,” Desiree said, taking her hand back. “They’re going to have tryouts at the
theater department on Saturday for ‘My Fair Lady’.” Now it was Stan’s turn to
look displeased. “Acting? Singing and dancing? That’s sissy stuff!”
Desiree stopped and faced him. “I bet you’ve never been to a show, have you?”
“Nope, and I don’t plan to,” Stan said. “You don’t
see anyone getting sacked on stage, you know. Pulse-pounding action’s what’s
popular now! Give me a good post pattern for a wide-open touchdown and we’re
talking excitement.” Desiree shook her head. “If you tried it, you’d like it.
Now, could someone please show me where the admissions office is?” Stan sighed,
pulling out a campus map someone had given him. “It’s straight across campus.
C’mon, I’ll walk you.”
Meanwhile, in the background, Blanche had been
lurking and working up to a slow boil. From behind, one of the big football
players tapped her on the shoulder. It was Bruiser McGee, a wolf who was one of
the Tuberville Tech linebackers. “Popularity problems, Blanche?” Bruiser asked,
his deep grating voice reverberating.
“Who does that kitty think she is!” Blanche said,
her eyes pure poison. “No one upstages Blanche DuBois! And that quarterback!
How dare he embarrass me in public!” Bruiser grinned with a touch of
mischief. “So you want back at the big guy, huh? Well, it just so happens I’ve
been given a lucrative offer to gain a few semolians, and I think we can both
be happy.”
“How’s that?” Blanche asked.
“Well, the Pine City and Pricetown teams need to win
when they come here, and let’s say they’ll think highly of anyone who lends
them a helping hand.”
Blanche thought about it. “So we tip them off, and
let them run that little disrespectful quarterback over?” Bruiser nodded,
chuckling. “You got it, sweets. They’ll mow him under like a tractor hitting
the weeds.” Blanche broke out in an evil grin. “And I’ll come up with something
to get the better of that feline floozy!” The two of them laughed, rubbing
their hands with glee.
For the next few weeks, Desiree got used to her
surroundings. She landed the role of Eliza Doolittle and played to mostly-empty
seats at the theater. Meanwhile, the football stadium was jam-packed every
weekend, and Stan led the team to win after win. The college town was small and
friendly, though, and soon Desiree had made a lot of new friends. She was just
coming out of world geography class when she noticed Stan coming out too and
decided to see what he was up to.
“So Stan, what else besides football is there to do
in this town? Shuck corn, spin cotton, churn butter?” Desiree quipped. Stan
spun a football on his index finger. “Most of us just hang around at the
E-Z-Scoop and eat ice cream while discussing the next big game.”
Stan noticed the big notebook under her arm. “Hey,
what’s that for?”
“It’s for schoolwork,”
Desiree said. “You should try it sometime. Seriously, I’m majoring in theater
with a minor in economics. What are you here for, as if I couldn’t
guess.”
Stan waived off her concern. “Oh, you don’t need to
go to all that trouble! Spending all that time grinding away at books? Besides,
it’s all common knowledge. Once you know that America broke away from France to
become a country and Tokyo’s the capital of China, you got it made!”
“On second thought, you’d better stick with
football. Is there a movie theater in this one horse town?”
Her comment evoked an indignant snort from a horse
standing behind her. “Sorry,” Desiree said.
“Sure is!” Stan said. “The Tiger Cinema’s open every
night. Would you, uh, like to step out with me tonight?” Desiree knew she’d
probably regret it. “Will you stop annoying me with silly questions if I
agree?”
“Uh, okay! So will you?”
“Sure,” Desiree said, looking heavenward. “It’ll be
the only taste of civilization I’ll have for the next few years. I’ll warn you
not to try and get fresh with me, though. I carry a set of brass knuckles in my
purse.” Stan smiled, impressed. “Wow, really? I never knew a girl who owned
brass knuckles before. Say, you’re pretty cool. Well, gotta go! See you after
football practice!”
Desiree shook her head, watching Stan romp his way
across campus. When seven rolled around, she was in front of the theater and he
wasn’t. Desiree waited ten more minutes, then was about to leave for the
library when Stan came running up to her, out of breath. He was on the mild
side of desperate. “Look uh…sorry I’m late. It’s just that…coach held me…over
for a talk after...practice.”
Stan looked embarrassed, and Desiree could sense
something was up. “What happened? Did he think your uniform was too cute?” Stan
didn’t catch her sarcasm but he did catch his breath. “No, he said I had to
pass all my classes or I’d be kicked off the team! Can you believe that?
I didn’t know they could do that to you!”
“I’m sure that the idea of football quarterbacks
being held to the same educational standards as the rest of us must come as a
shock. What class are you failing?”
Stan tugged at his collar. “Um, all of them?”
“All of them! How could you have let that
happen...no, don’t bother answering,” Desiree said, holding up her hands. “I
already know the answer. How much time do you have to turn your grades around?”
“I have the pass the midterm exams on Friday, or I’m
busted! Do you know anything about Geometry, History, English Lit, and World
Geography?” Desiree looked at that cute desperate face and sighed. “Well, two
hours won’t make or break the situation. You promised me a movie, and tomorrow
I can start doing some emergency tutoring, but no football till exam time.
You’ll need to focus on your schoolwork.”
Stan blinked, reality hitting him like a blindside
from a crazed linebacker. “No FOOTBALL? I’ll die from withdrawals!”
“You’ll die if you get kicked off the team, but the
choice is yours, Stan.”
Stan’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, okay...”
Desiree enjoyed the movie, but Stan hardly noticed
it. He was trying to fight off sheer panic, and the next day wasn’t much
better. Desiree found that Stan knew little or nothing about studying, but
fortunately she was taking the same classes he was and let him borrow her
notes. She dragged him to the study hall, and there she worked with him hour
after hour, helping him to learn all the things he’d ignored in his sheer
enjoyment of the game.
“Stan, you’ve got to pay attention or you’ve never
going to make it!” Desiree said. Stan stared at the stack of papers in front of
him. “But how can I remember it all? It’s just a jumble of things…”
Desiree thought a moment, then came up with an idea. “Okay, there’s more than
one way to remember things. For instance…” Desiree thought a moment, then sang
to the tune of “Pop Goes the Weasel”:
A circle’s round, it never ends, The way around’s the
cir-cum-f’rence A radius is half-way and then All’s the di-am-et-er!
“Hey, neat!” Stan said. Desiree pointed to another
paper, singing to the tune of “Yankee Doodle”:
The Pilgrims came to Ply-mouth
Rock, The state of Mass-a-chu-setts The Con-stit-tu-tion set up
laws with Twenty-seven amend-ments
“Wow, that’s great!” Stan said. “Do another one!”
Desiree did, to the “Anvil Chorus”:
Chau-cer in the days of old
wrote tales both sad and mer-ry, Told by pil-grims on a trip to
go to Can-ter-bu-ry
“Hey, you’re great!” Stan said. “Got another one
for geography?” Yakko Warner ran up. “I do! United States, Canada, Mexico,
Panama…” Desiree pushed Yakko out the door, then took up the melody of “Under
the Boardwalk”:
Pacific
Ocean’s got the biggest space of all the fi-iiiive The
Indian’s got the Cape to Tasmania spied Under the
world lies the Southern’s reeeeach, yeah! On the top with the Arctic’s
where I’ll be…
When Friday came, Desiree was a little shell-shocked
from all the time she’d spent helping Stan review, but it also meant that she
easily passed her exams. She was anxious about her pupil, though. She’d been
waiting for him outside the geography class while he and the football coach
waited for the teacher to grade the last of Stan’s tests. When Stan came out,
he was beaming and ran up to Desiree.
“Hey, I passed everything!” Stan shouted, picking
her up and spinning her around. “Now I get to play tomorrow! Thanks, Des, I owe
you.” Desiree grinned. “Yes, you sure do. And it so happens I need a
favor.” Stan stopped, not sure what was coming next. “Yeah?”
“We’re about to start casting for ‘Guys and Dolls’
and we need somebody to play Nathan Detroit, the lead,” Desiree said. Stan
blinked, not sure he’d heard her right. “Uh, you…want me to…act?”
Desiree smiled wickedly, nodding. “Tryouts are next Monday, hon. I’ll expect to
see you there.”
Desiree started walking off, when Stan ran up beside
her, holding out a ticket. “Won’t you at least come to the game this
week? I’ve…we’ve won every game so far and we’re playing the Pine City
Bulldogs. Here’s a free ticket, best seats in the house! Please?” Desiree was
about to remind him of his promise to stop annoying her, but bit her tongue.
“Uh, thanks Stan. I might go, to see if my hard work was worth it.” Stan pumped
her arm up and down in a vigorous handshake. “Hey, that’s swell! See you after
the game for the big victory celebration, okay?”
“Sure, I guess. Whatever.”
Stan walked off, happy as a lark. Desiree watched
him go, then looked at the ticket in her hand. Should she? After all, this
fellow was just an egotistical sports boy and they had nothing in common. When
the time came, though, she found herself headed for the stadium. It was a
rowdy, noisy place with more people at one event than she had ever seen. When
she found her seat, she sat down next to a loudmouth human, and commented on
the rowdy state of affairs.
“Yeah, great atmosphere, ain’t it?” the burly human
said. The big fellow stood up and turned around, yelling toward the concession
stands. “HEY, WIL-MA! DON’T FORGET THE NACHOS!”
Desiree rolled her eyes and sat down. After a lot of
bands playing and cheerleaders jumping around, the game started. She saw Stan
on the field, but had no idea of what was going on. However, she did notice the
cheerleaders, and Blanche in particular. She was waving at the opposite
sidelines repeatedly for some reason, and every time she did the Tuberville
team lost yards. She winced one time when a bunch of linebackers led by Magilla
Gorilla came up the middle and crunched Stan to the ground. The game didn’t go
well for the home team, and Tuberville Tech lost to Pine City 21-7. Desiree
watched as a dejected bunch of players left the field, Stan leading the way.
Behind the stands, Blanche and Bruiser were
laughing. “That was great!” Blanche said. “This’ll teach him who’s the best.”
Bruiser nodded. “You got that right, Blanche. But the best lesson’ll come next
week. Nothing like getting humbled by your biggest rival.” The devious duo
walked away, counting their payoff, while Desiree waited outside the locker
room for Stan to come out.
Desiree knew Stan would need a talking-to, so she
waited until he’d changed his clothes and left the locker room. He had a nice
shiner on his right eye and a bag of ice wrapped on his shoulder. Stan was
surprised to see her and he blushed in embarrassment and shame when he
remembered his promise to take her to the victory celebration. “Oh, hi Des.
Guess I can’t take you to the celebration after all. I’m sorry I let you down.
Our first loss!”
Desiree managed to hide her relief at not having to
go, not wanting to upset Stan any further. “Don’t worry about it, there’ll be
other games. You win some, you lose some. How about I take you to the
feeling-sorry-for-yourself celebration at that Scoops place you mentioned?”
Stan shook his head, holding it down. “No, I
couldn’t go there. I let everyone down, not just you! Don’t you
understand, Des? A loss around here is like, well it’s like losing your best
friend and your girl all in one day! Right now, I feel flatter than a five-cent
sandwich.” Stan walked over to a nearby bench and plopped down, covering his
face with his hands.
“What in the world are you talking about?”
Desiree asked. “It’s just a game! The winning or losing of that game
won’t affect the balance of power in the free world, won’t lower crime, won’t
regrow lost hair! It’s just a silly game! It’ll wear your body out before its
time and when that happens your mind won’t be in much better shape, since you
neglected it in order to play football. Just get up and try again!”
Stan looked up, glumly. “You’re embarrassed to be
seen with me, too, huh? I don’t blame you. All I’ve ever dreamed of was playing
football and winning a big game! Maybe I should just quit.”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself!” Desiree said.
“And the only thing that’s embarrassing is how you’re acting over losing a
single game. It’s not even the World Series, for heaven’s sake!” Desiree came
over and sat next to him. She hesitated at first, but it was obvious this boy
wasn’t perking up. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Now, are you
going to walk me home?”
Stan hadn’t seen the kiss coming, and when it
registered with him he realized that things were different. The sting of the
loss wasn’t as bad now, and some of what she was saying made some sense. “Yeah,
sure Des. We are still 10-1, after all. I guess I’ll just have to prove my
worth next time. We play our big rivals next, the Pricetown Pachyderms. If I
can win that game, then they’ll totally forget about this one!”
Stan walked Desiree home, all the time babbling on
about football. She was glad he wasn’t depressed anymore, but he sure could
talk a person’s ear off. Stan took her hand at her door. “Thanks, Des. It means
a lot to me, all you’ve done. You’re the only person that’s ever done things
like this for me, and I just wanted you to know that...well...”
Soft music came from somewhere:
All my life’s been one big
game. Some days I’ve won, Some I’ve lost, But some things stay the same
I had fans by the carload Girls who called my name, But when they’re gone I know You won’t care about my fame
I know it may sound lame, But you made my day My week, my year And now I won’t fear...
Stan took her other hand.
As long as
you’re near. Des, you’re
quite a dame...
Desiree shook her head, chuckling. “You’d better
believe it, big shot. Feeling better now?” The two of them came closer, their
eyes locked, and Desiree interjected, “By the way, I’ll be looking forward to
seeing you at tryouts on Monday.” Stan took a step back. “You mean you
were serious about that?”
“You bet I was,” Desiree said. “We need a strong guy
for the lead, and you’ll bring a lot of popularity to the role too. Please,
Stan?” Stan hunched over some and rubbed the back of his neck, not really
wanting to say yes, but Desiree had him on the spot. “Well, all right. But if
anyone I know sees me, I’m going to feel stupid!”
“No, you won’t. Besides, I’m the female lead, Miss
Sarah Brown. Isn’t that worth risking a little embarrassment?”
Stan gulped. “Uh, I guess so…”
Desiree kissed him ever so lightly on the lips. “Good.
See you Monday.” Stan watched her go as she waved goodbye and then…he heard
someone else calling. The images were swept away, and Danny woke up. “Wow, what
a dream!” Danny said, immediately starting to type again. “And now I know just
how to lead into the big game!”
Chapter 4 – Mission Improbable and Missing in Action
As Danny got to work again, the setting sun was
gleaming on the stone mammoth that marked Mammoth Studios. Cars spilled out of
the place, and the night watchmen came on duty. Inside the main offices, it was
already getting dark. Chip had to use the portable LED penlight that Gadget had
made to help him read the files they were perusing. The comment that Tillie had
made before about L.B. was nagging him, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.
Now, they were going through the company’s financial files.
“According to their records, Mammoth’s stock has
declined in value twenty percent over the past six months,” Chip said. “I hope
Danny’s picture works out or they’re going to be in real trouble. Wait...” Chip
checked a list of financial statements, noticing a glaring omission.
“Gadget, L.B.’s statement
isn’t on here! He must’ve kept it private. When we were in his office before, I
noticed his personal safe by the wall. That’s got to be where his financial
records would be. Only one problem—we can’t be spotted. There’s one of those
revolving security cameras near his office. Can you get us around it?”
Gadget shrugged. “Sure I can, Chip, but isn’t that
kinda illegal?”
“Well, technically. But a good detective knows when
to bend the law in a good cause. And if L.B. is the one behind Danny’s missing
script, we might just find it there!”
Gadget started heading for the hall. “Okay, let me
at that safe and I should be able to open it with no problems.” Chip started
for the file room’s exit, then stopped. Whenever Gadget used the words “should”
and “no problems” in the same sentence, it usually meant disaster. Still, that
was normally in terms of her inventions, so Chip shook off the notion and
walked on.
The mouse inventor stopped them when they were just
out of range of the camera’s line of sight, clocking its motion from left to
right. Once she was assured they could make it, they waited for the camera to
return and as it headed to the right they followed, careful not to go too fast.
Chip threw his rope up toward the keyhole, a safety
pin on the end catching the hole’s lower edge. Gadget climbed up and was able
to simply reach inside the old-fashioned keyhole and trip the lock. She pulled
the door’s catch back from the inside, eliminating the need for the doorknob,
while Chip pushed as hard as he could. The door came open and quickly they
moved inside, shutting the door behind them before the camera could reveal
their handiwork.
As Gadget had figured (and to Chip’s relief) the
safe was no huge obstacle. Soon, they had the cabinet-size safe open and Chip
was rifling through the papers. After a few minutes, he found what he was
after. “Yes, here it is! Apparently, L.B. sold off about half of his stock in
the company at the start of this month. So, he must’ve thought the company was
in trouble—foolish to keep a record of it, though. And here’s another page
attached...ah, he’s also planning on cutting the promotional budget for Danny’s
film down to next to nothing! Do you know what that means, Gadget?”
“Honestly, no,” Gadget said.
“Without the money for adequate promotion, Danny’s
film would likely flounder at the box office!” Chip said, then pointed to the
painting of L.B. on the wall. “Gadget, L.B.’s the one behind Danny’s problems!
He must be selling off his stock behind the company’s back so he can leave with
his pockets full of money! We’ve got to make a copy of this paper.”
“It’s not going to be easy,” Gadget said. “The
copier’s in the outer office.”
Chip rolled the two sheets of paper up into a
cylinder. “I know, but if we don’t have hard evidence, L.B. could find out
someone’s been snooping and simply burn this thing. You have been mentally
keeping up with the camera’s motions, right?”
“Uh huh,” Gadget said. “Otherwise, we’d have no way
to know when it was safe to leave.” Chip took the papers, unrolled them, and
placed them on the floor by the door so it would swing over the papers when it
opened. Gadget performed her handiwork on the door’s lock again, opening it at
the critical moment. Chip dug his claws into the bottom of the door, pulling as
hard as he could. He just managed to get it open enough, then he and Gadget
moved to the other side and snatched the papers as they pulled the door closed
again.
Running up the hall to evade the camera, they passed
by the file room and another security camera to end up in the main office.
There, they had friends waiting for them. Sawyer looked at the papers in their
hands. “Well, I see you two have been busy. What’s that you’ve got there?”
“The answer to the whole mystery of Danny’s missing
script,” Chip said. “Looks like L.B.’s the one behind all this. Take a look.”
Sawyer read the document and her face took on an angry appearance. “That
weasel! And I don’t mean that as a compliment! Wait till I get my claws on
him!”
Dale scratched his head. “I thought L.B. was
supposed to be a good guy.”
“Supposed to is right!” Chip said. “What did
you two find out at Luniversal?” Dale shrugged. “Just a rumor that L.B. was
thinking of jumping ship to their studio.” Chip snapped his fingers. “Of
course! It all fits together. L.B. plans to go to Luniversal, so what’s more
natural than that he should try to torpedo Danny’s movie? And he’s probably
going to get a big signing bonus from them for doing it, too.”
“Waitaminit, Chip!” Dale said. “Take a look at
this!” Dale held up the photocopy that they’d made of the top page, and it
showed writing beneath the printed material. Chip checked and found a thin
piece of paper that had been stuck between the two sheets they had taken, and
had been clinging to the top page.
“Hmm…well, it appears I was wrong. It’s written with
a felt-tip pen so we can’t analyze the handwriting. Listen: ‘To the Rescue
Rangers: You are on the wrong track, and I put you there. If you want to see
Danny’s script again, come to the warehouse at Santa Monica Boulevard and 2nd
Street. I’ll be waiting.’ It’s signed, ‘The Phantom Moviemaker’.”
“That’s down by the ocean front,” Sawyer said. “Near
Santa Monica Place.”
“Smells of a trap for sure, mate,” Monty said. “Do
we take the bait?”
“Yes, but this could be a diversion by this person
to pull us off the scent and try something here,” Chip replied. “Gadget, take
Sawyer and the others to check this out. I’m going to call Danny and get him
over here to make sure that no one tries anything.”
At that moment, Zipper flew in and joined the
others. “Where you been, pally?” Monty asked. “You’ve been gone half the day.
Out sightseeing?” Zipper shook his head and indicated that he’d been keeping
watch over Danny’s house from the air in case anyone tried anything. Chip
nodded. “I sent him there, just in case.”
“Are you sure you can handle this alone?” Sawyer
asked. Chip thought about that. “You’re right, I could use some help. Zipper,
you’re with me. You can keep watch over the studio this time and give me early
warning if anything happens. We’ll be careful, and if the situation gets bad we
can always call on security. Whoever wrote this note will be watching us, so we
need to have it seem that we’ve swallowed the bait.”
“Then we’d better do one thing more,” Sawyer said,
taking Chip’s hat.
“Hey!” Chip said. “Careful with that!”
Sawyer grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring it back
safe. We’ll set up a dummy in your RangerWing to make it look like you’re
along.” Gadget took the fedora from Sawyer. “That’s a great idea! I’ll gather
some material and make one right away!”
“Make sure to find something with a lot of hot air
in it!” Dale shouted, then ducked as Chip tried to bonk him again. Soon the
Rangers’ plan was underway and Chip watched them go with satisfaction. He
missed his beloved hat, but it was a small sacrifice to be sure the plan
unfolded seamlessly. He gave some instructions to Zipper and the fly nodded,
buzzing his way outside. Climbing a telephone wire in the main office where
they’d copied L.B.’s papers, Chip tapped out a series of numbers and waited.
At Danny’s house, Leo knocked on his employer’s
door. “Pardon me, Master Danny. One of your Ranger friends, Chip, is on the
line.” Danny was in the zone now, and hated being interrupted. Still, if it was
Chip, it had to be important. “Okay, tell him I’ll be right there. I’ll take it
in the library.”
Danny finished up the thought he was on, then
quickly walked to the library and picked up the old antique receiver. “Chip?
What’s this all about?”
“I need you to come down to the studio right away,
and you’ll probably want to bring your work with you. We may be here for a
while.”
While Chip and Zipper defended the studio, Stevens
was driving Sawyer while she kept an eye on the RangerWing. For Sawyer, this
new revelation had been a relief. L.B. had done so much for them, and it
would’ve been such a betrayal if he had really been behind Danny’s problems.
But still, maybe he was. After all, he could’ve written the mysterious note and
now they could all be about to face his ire.
Sawyer shook her head—that just wasn’t possible. No,
it was likely what it appeared to be, the maniacal ravings of someone who had
gained access to the company and had tried to discredit her friends while
shifting suspicion. Whoever it is, they’re going to wish they hadn’t played
this insipid little game, Sawyer thought, as she watched the RangerWing
land on top of an old warehouse half a block ahead of them. It had taken them
about twenty-five minutes to cover the distance, but Sawyer wished they hadn’t
had to come so far. Her thoughts were still chiefly back at the studio.
Signaling Stevens to stop well away from the
warehouse, she got out, leaving him instructions to follow if she wasn’t back
in half an hour. Quickly, the feline stole through the shadows, trying two
doors to the warehouse before finding one that opened. This warehouse hadn’t
been used in years, and the dust covering the floor and paraphernalia strewn
about attested to it. Sawyer moved as quietly as she could, realizing that the
slightest sound would echo horribly in this place.
As she rounded a bunch of old packing crates, she
stopped short. A shadow on the wall revealed what appeared to be a large human.
And he was holding a pistol.
Chapter 5 – The Dream Continues and A Rude Awakening
Danny had ordered Leo to stand by at the phone, then
he picked up his typewriter. He’d forgotten how heavy it was, and lost his
balance, knocking a stack of papers off his desk onto the floor. Danny packed
his typewriter, notes, and new script into a nearby wooden crate and hefted the
combination to his spacious garage.
He’d put the contents into his white 1937 Auburn, a
classic antique car which he favored driving, but then realized that if there
was a criminal who might try something he could be tipped off by seeing that
car so he took his red 1957 Cadillac instead. Taking the back way into the
studio, Danny parked his car well away from any place he normally frequented
and walked toward Stage 17. Fate was in his favor, and Danny ended up in the
wardrobe trailer without anyone seeing him.
“Chip?” Danny hissed. “You here?”
“Right behind you.”
Danny jumped, and Chip shushed him. “It’s okay,”
Chip said, keeping his voice low. “We’re alone, though I don’t expect things to
stay that way. I know who our criminal is and what he’s up to. I figured you’d
like to be here when he comes.”
“But how do you know?” Danny asked.
“That’ll have to wait,” Chip said. “For now, go
ahead and work on your script. I’ll keep watch.”
With a few minutes of setup, Danny set to work
again. It didn’t take long for him to get back into the swing of things. The
peace and quiet of the trailer was just the thing he needed, and now things
were going smoothly. On occasion Danny would look up at the sets and let his
imagination take over.
After about a half-hour, he’d finished another large
scene. Danny looked ahead through the louvered windows at the huge stage in
front of him and the setting sun that was just visible through a crack where
the big barn doors met to the left. Chip was dutifully keeping watch, and Danny
leaned back in his chair and in a few moments the only sound was the cat’s
snoring.
About that time across town, Sawyer was ready to
make her move. The big shadow hadn’t moved for all of five minutes, and she was
beginning to wonder where the Rangers were. Getting up from her crouch, she
slowly moved toward a point where she could at least see who she was dealing
with. Taking several precautions, she crawled her way on the floor around
another packing crate—and screamed right at the moment the mouse she was facing
screamed as well.
“ARGH!” Sawyer shouted, for she’d come nose to nose
with Monty.
“Don’t EVER do that!” the two of them shouted at the
same time. Then they both got down again, as well as the other Rangers. When
they saw that the shadow didn’t move, they continued on together to where they
could see the source of the problem.
“A cardboard cutout!” Gadget exclaimed. And so it
was—it was actually a quite small cutout, placed in front of an old burning oil
lamp. “From the look of the wick and the odor of kerosene, this lamp’s been
burning for quite a while. Perhaps a day or more.”
“Looks like our bird’s flown the coop,” Sawyer said,
picking up a piece of paper on a nearby table, the writing on it done using a
felt tip pen as before. “Get this: ‘Dear Rangers, I have burned the script so
don’t bother looking for it. I want it made clear why I committed the crime.
The practices of men like L.B. Mammoth, making actors the directors of their
own films, is ruining the corporate health of Hollywood for the sake of profit.
I leave you now to go to a better country where the men in charge have more
respect for the employees under them. The Phantom Moviemaker.’ “
“Oh great, a wild goose chase,” Monty said. “First,
the bloke steals the script then burns it and heads for the hills when we get
too close. Makes you wonder why he did it in the first place.”
Sawyer turned off the lamp. “Well, whatever the
reason, it’s time for us to go.”
“Miss Sawyer?” It was Stevens, come to check on
them. “Are you okay?”
“We’re fine, Stevens,” Sawyer said. “We’ll head back
to the studio now and see how Danny and Chip are doing.” The group came
outside, and Sawyer was about to get into the limo when Stevens gave out a
shout of surprise. “Look, Miss Sawyer! Someone has let the air out of one of
the rear tires!”
“Peachy,” Sawyer said. “Must’ve been some kids with
nothing better to do. There was a service station not too far back. Think you
can jack up the car and get that tire off?”
“At once, Miss Sawyer,” Stevens said, rolling up his
sleeves. The Rangers decided to stay with Sawyer to make sure she’d be safe
while Stevens reinflated the tire, and soon they watched the dutiful manservant
roll the loose wheel down the street.
Stan Kowalski—for Danny was dreaming again—was
surrounded by laughter. It wasn’t the good kind of laughter as far as he was
concerned, either. Stan had taken up Desiree’s challenge to try out for “Guys
and Dolls” and to his utter surprise he’d won the lead. The source of the
laughter wasn’t that, though. The theater team had been in rehearsals now for a
couple of days, and word had slipped out that the football team’s quarterback
was actually acting in a musical.
The rehearsal was about halfway done when a bunch of
big guys and a crusty old coach came in, followed by several of the more
popular people on campus. Stan was crouched down on stage, dressed up as Nathan
Detroit, and about to throw a pair of dice when he heard someone from the
audience say, “Heavens to Mergatroid! The rumors are true. Verified, even!”
Stan looked up to see all his teammates out there,
jeering and making faces. Blanche was there too, of course. “Hey Stan,” she
began, “this the best time-waster you could find? You could always have
volunteered to be the team’s equipment boy.” The director, a crusty old British
badger wearing spectacles, came over to the group. “Do you people have a reason
for being here?” The coach grunted in humor, about the most amiable he got.
“Sure do. That’s my starting quarterback up there making a fool out of
himself.”
“Sir, no one was ever made foolish practicing the
fine art of the legitimate stage,” the director said. “In fact, I see several
young men here who could likely benefit from a little drama and dance
practice.” The laughter returned, and Bruiser stood up. “Yeah? Well, I’ll make
a deal with you, tea and crumpets. If this namby-pamby stuff does our prima
donna quarterback any good on the football field, we’ll all come and act
and dance and sing in your pretty little plays for the next whole year. Right
guys?”
The players grinned and nodded and the director
raised an eyebrow. “It is a deal, my friend. Now, if you please, we are in
rehearsals.” Sawyer watched the team file out, still laughing, then turned to
Stan. “Don’t let it bother you,” Desiree said. “You’re doing great, and I bet
none of those guys would have the courage to get in front of an audience.”
Stan knelt down and threw the dice—snake eyes. “I
don’t know. Maybe it’s not worth all this.” Desiree patted him on the back.
“It’s worth it to me.” Stan looked up, and Desiree was holding her hands in
front of her, smiling. Stan returned the smile. “Thanks, Des. I’ve got to
admit, it’s been pretty fun.”
“For me too,” Desiree said softly. “Now, you’d
better get to football practice.”
Stan had a thought. “Say, why don’t you come out for
the cheerleading squad? I know they’d take you.” Desiree looked like Stan had
asked her to stand on her head. “Cheerleading?”
“Sure!” Stan said, smiling. “After all, you’d be
cheering for me.”
Desiree grimaced some, but she nodded. “Okay. For
you. Now you’d better hurry. Those Pricetown Pachyderms are waiting for you
this weekend.”
Danny smiled in his sleep, and then something shook
him out of it. “Come on,” Chip said, “wake up!” Yawning, Danny rubbed his eyes.
“Something up?”
“Ssh!” Chip warned. “Not so loud. Our mystery man
just came on the lot.”
Chip turned to Zipper, who had alerted him and was
standing at the ready. “Get up in the rafters. If he escapes us, it’ll be up to
you to see where he goes.”
“Yes, sir!” Zipper saluted, then flew as quickly as
he could to the top of the huge stage. Danny looked at his watch—eight o’clock.
It was just over an hour since he’d come to the trailer, according to the clock
on the wall. Chip doused the lights and silently they waited in darkness.
Their vigil was not a long one, for in a few minutes
Danny’s feline eyes caught a change in things. Something had moved out there
inside the stage, and certainly it was alive. Only the night watchman had any
business in this area, and he’d be outside, not inside this studio. The
half-visible figure kept coming through the shadows and it became evident to
Danny this person was carrying something heavy, for it caused the intruder to
stumble a few times over the weight imbalance.
Silently, Danny and Chip crept out of the trailer
and decided on a plan of action. The dark figure was headed for the main set,
and Danny moved toward the light switch controls. Chip meanwhile positioned
himself where he could try to thwart the ne’er-do-well. The person stopped,
setting down his load, and seemed to be trying to decide what to do next. Danny
wasn’t going to give whoever it was time to think further. He flipped on the
main light switches, bathing the encroacher in the bright floodlights.
It was a hooded figure, but nonetheless the lights
had caught him off guard. Danny stepped out into the open. “You there! Hold
it!” The hooded rogue dropped the object he’d been carrying—a can of
gasoline—and started to run. Then he tripped and fell, and the hood fell back
on the fellow’s head. Danny was floored when he saw the man’s face. “Flanigan!?
You’re the thief? But why?”
Flanigan looked about, making sure his way of escape
was still clear. “Why, you ask? Why, when I was about to lose everything I’d
ever worked for!” Danny shook his head, not comprehending. “What are you
talking about? You’re a director at one of the biggest studios in Hollywood!
You live in a nice house, you dine with the rich and famous and you get to make
movies. You’ve got it all!”
Chip walked forward. “Yes,
but that wasn’t enough for him. I figured out early on that someone was trying
to set L.B. up, and the more I saw the more it pointed to Flanigan.” Danny
raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Then why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because if I had, we’d
have had an ugly situation on our hands that we probably wouldn’t have been
able to control,” Chip said. “I was concerned that Flanigan would get wind of
my suspicions and try something drastic that would ruin the studio. I’ve had
him tailed for the last day and I knew he was planning to come here tonight.”
“How could you know that?”
Danny asked.
“My secret weapon!” Chip
said, pointing to Zipper. The fly drew himself up proudly and Chip continued.
“I met with Zipper secretly after he and Monty got back from Darla’s and I told
him my conclusions. He’s been keeping a discreet eye on our friend here and saw
him stow the robe and gas can in his car. He wouldn’t chance keeping those things
in there for long, so it stood to reason he was planning on using them
tonight.”
“Then who are the others
chasing?” Danny asked.
“Shadows,” Chip said. “I
needed to get them out of the way, so I planted some fake evidence to make it
look like some disgruntled nutcase was behind this. That way, only you, Zipper
and me had to know it was really Flanigan.”
Danny looked down at the
captured director, confused. “Why’d you do it, Flanigan? You’re the
best-treated director in Hollywood!” Flanigan harrumphed at Danny’s reply. “Oh
sure, but do I get noticed? No, it’s always the star! I had to
play second-fiddle to that conniving little monster Darla for years, and put up
with her endless tantrums! Did I get any credit for that? No!” Flanigan started
to get emotional, and the frustration mounted in his voice. “For decades, I’ve
worked and slaved, giving my life to my craft! And all I’ve ever been is tolerated!
And now, to top it all off, I’m being replaced by a CAT!”
Flanigan covered his head,
weeping in a mire of self-pity. “A ca-aa-aa-at! DeMille would
never have been replaced by a cat! But Flanigan T. Fosworth, he’s replaced
without anyone batting an eye-laaaaash!” Danny walked over, sympathetic, and
helped him up. “Hey, I know all about being ignored and treated with
disrespect. I am a cat, after all. You know how hard I had to fight to get
where I am now. Okay, so maybe you’re not Lucas or Scorcese, but you’re
certainly better than Roger Corman or Ed Wood. I understand that you feel
underappreciated, but what’s this all about?”
Danny held up the gas can that Flanigan had dropped.
“You hate me that much that you’d burn down the entire studio to hurt me?
That’s so low...Darla would do something like that!” Flanigan looked up
from his pity party. “You? No, no...it wasn’t you at all! It was L.B.
that I was after! He’s the one who made you director, who took all the glory of
the studio’s accomplishments, and now that he’s about to retire he’s bound to
name you as his replacement! That why I decided to ruin him, and in the
worst way—in front of the board members! I intended to ruin his reputation with
those false financial statements. He can’t stand humiliation, but I wanted him
to get his turn at it just once!”
“That’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard!”
Chip chided. “You’ve made movies that entertain and uplift, people know your
name! And you’re ruining the studio because you feel underappreciated?”
Danny interrupted his smaller friend. “For putting
up with Darla all those years you’ve shown you have a constitution of iron. You
seemed happy when Darla got canned and we’ve worked together great all these
years. I thought we had a great working relationship, Flanigan. We’ve done
great things together. You made history being the first director over an
all-animal movie. Doesn’t any of that mean anything to you?”
Flanigan walked around, gesticulating. “Of course
it does! Why would I be so infuriated otherwise?” He started to calm some,
thinking on what Danny had said. “Yes, I enjoyed making history with you and
Sawyer and all. You’ve...always treated me well. It’s just that now, just when
everything seemed to be paying off for me and I’d finally get my turn at
the big chair, L.B. pulled this publicity stunt and made you the head director.
Danny, it was more than I could take! I’m...sorry I...shouldn’t have tried to
take this out on you but...oh dear, oh dear. I’ve really ruined everything,
haven’t I...”
Danny understood it all now, and lowered his voice.
“If it was such a problem, you should have talked to us.” Danny began to pace
now, thinking. “The way I see it, we have two options: we could turn you over
to the authorities or...uh, what did you do with my script?” Flanigan cringed.
“Well, you see, uh...I sort of disposed of it. In my furnace at home.”
“Or I could thank you for saving my career by
destroying that dog of a script that I wrote. Having to rewrite ‘A Street Cat Named Desiree’ has allowed me make a
much better story, a story with heart.”
Chip looked at Danny, incredulous. Flanigan
uncringed, studying Danny curiously. “Huh? You mean, it helped you?”
“That first script was written with a single-minded
purpose, writing a script so that a cat could direct a movie. I wasn’t thinking
about making a good story—it was bland and lifeless. The new script reminds me
of the old days, the days when people would tell me that cats don’t dance. The
passion, the music’s there again! I’ve let myself get into the politics of
Hollywood so much that I was beginning to forget why I came here in the first
place.”
Flanigan’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I was
forgetting too. I wanted so badly to be head of Mammoth Studios I forgot why.
You’re right—it’s not about the glory, but just making a difference.” Flanigan
rubbed his forehead, repentant. “I don’t know what got into me, Danny, but now
I’m ruined! I’m sure your allies have pieced together the entire puzzle, and
L.B. himself will have the honor of booting me off this studio lot and into
jail. Can’t say as I really blame him, either.”
“Actually, they don’t know,” Chip said. “As I said,
I knew that the situation was a delicate one so I planted some false evidence
to lead them away. Then I had Zipper follow them and he deflated one of the
tires on Sawyer’s limo to ensure they wouldn’t get back here before we could
handle this on our own.”
“So we’re really the only ones who know?” Danny
asked.
“That’s right,” Chip said. “Now we have to decide
what to do with what we know. Do we go to L.B.?”
“L.B. doesn’t have to know,” Danny said, then turned
to the director. “Flanigan, you’re one step from the edge. You have to decide
what you want. Do you want to keep doing what you love or do you want to
destroy it if you can’t have fame and recognition for it?”
Flanigan looked outside though the big barn doors,
now open, at the huge Mammoth symbol, bathed in the moonlight. He’d been so
young when he first saw that symbol, so eager. He’d worked up from best boy and
grip to set design and finally to third assistant director. It took years more
to gain the top spot, and when it did come it was in the B-movie lot at first.
Patience had won Flanigan the more lucrative directing positions until he’d
become L.B.’s right-hand man. Now, the years had gone by and he remembered—the
tragedies, the happy times, the near misses.
“We have made a lot of good movies here. In my own
way, I’m just another Gutzon Borglum,” Flanigan said.
“Huh?” Chip asked.
Danny scratched his head, trying to recall if he’d
ever heard that name before. “Yeah, if that’s a good thing, then yes you are!
L.B. made me the director of this picture, but it would be very helpful having
an experienced director backing me up. Flanigan, would you help me make history
by helping me make the first animal-directed movie?”
Flanigan grinned. “Gutzon Borglum was the artist who
created the figures on Mount Rushmore. Everyone knows the work when you mention
the place, but no one knows the artist. Still, I suppose that doesn’t matter.
The work itself is more important. Okay Danny, you’ve got a deal.” Danny looked
up at Flanigan and then extended his hand. “Well, with a name like that it’s
easy to see why he’s not a household name. Next time, if there’s a problem, let
talk about it first. Remember, we’re a
team.”
“Even if this doesn’t work out, thanks,” Flanigan
said. “You’re a rare person, indeed.”
“Thanks, Flanigan.”
They shook hands, then Danny returned his attention
to Chip. “That all right, Chip?” Chip rubbed his head, thinking. He missed his
fedora, as he always believed he thought better with it on. “I don’t know…”
“Please!” Flanigan said, kneeling down in a pleading
position. “Haven’t you ever done something in a fit of passion that you
regretted?” Chip slowly nodded. “A couple of times.”
“Then can’t you understand the need to give someone
who did a second chance?” Flanigan asked. Chip worked his teeth in his mouth,
thinking it over some more. “Well, all right. But I’m going to keep an eye on
you! If you’re trying to trick us—”
“I’m not!” Flanigan said, taking one of Chip’s hands
with his thumb and forefinger and shaking it. “Believe me, you won’t regret
this. I’ll make it up to all of you, and I swear I’ll make things right!”
Danny and Chip looked at each other and nodded, then
Chip spoke to Zipper. The fly also agreed to keep their secret and Danny
pointed the way to the nearby parking lot. “Okay Flanigan, you’d better make
like a banana and split before someone comes in and sees you dressed like that
with that gas can. They might mistakenly think you’re trying to burn down the
place. We start shooting in less than a week. Are you going to be ready by that
time?”
“Yes, but what about your Ranger friends and L.B.?
Surely they must be suspicious by now. How are we going to explain all this to
them?”
Chip stepped forward. “As long as my diversion holds
up, they’ll think that the criminal got away and I won’t tell them any
different.” Flanigan nodded, still somewhat in shock over his good fortune.
“I’ll never forget this, Danny. I’ll make sure to have everything and everyone
ready to go here when the new script’s finalized.” The director headed for his
car and a minute later, the trio was alone.
“Thanks, Chip,” Danny said. “You too, Zipper.”
“But did we really do the right thing?” Chip asked.
“We’re letting him get away with a lot. He did make a mistake, but shouldn’t he
have to pay for that?”
“Sometimes mercy’s more important than justice,”
Danny replied.
“He got
away!?” L.B. shouted.
“That’s right, sir,” Danny said. The tabby appeared
glum, standing alongside Sawyer and the Rangers the next morning in L.B.’s
office. “Tell them about it, Chip.”
Chip came forward, taking off his hat. “Last night,
my team and Sawyer traced the script to an old abandoned warehouse on the
western side of town. Whoever this person was, he was slippery because by the
time they got there they’d already flown the coop.”
Sawyer took over. “Then we searched the place to try
to determine the criminal’s identity and found this letter, evidently written
for the Rangers...” She handed the letter over to L.B. and the owner of Mammoth
Studios read it, chuckling as he finished. “Let him go, then. There’s no other
country in the world that makes pictures the way we do. Let him burn all the
scripts he wants! Don’t worry, Danny, we’ll get your movie made no matter
what.”
The Rangers, Sawyer and Danny exchanged smiles.
“Glad you’re still with us on this, sir!” Danny said. “In fact, I’ve just about
finished re-writing a new script that has a lot more potential than the first
one—thanks to one of my new friends here.” Danny gently bumped Dale in the
side, causing him to go a little off-balance.
“Aw, it was nothin’!” Dale said.
L.B. stood up, satisfied. “Excellent. If there’s
anything you need to help you finish, let me know and I’ll personally see that
you get it.” Danny shook L.B.’s hand. “I think Flanigan’s already handling
that, sir. He’s really been a big help with recovering from all this, and I’m
glad that I’ve got him to catch any mistakes I might make.”
“Good, I’m glad he’s on board with this. He’ll show
you the ropes of working behind the camera, and you might even be as good as he
is someday, kid.”
Danny grinned, ducking under his shoulders. “Well,
Flanigan’s a pretty unique guy. It’d be hard to match the passion he has for
the job, but I’ll do my best.” L.B. walked them all to the door. “Now you’d
better get back to writing that script. Rangers, well, it perhaps worked out
for the best that the thief got away. An arrest and trial would’ve been bad
press for the studio, what with someone just waltzing in here and stealing a
script right off the lot. Good work, and you can pick up your check from the
accounting department.”
As they left, Chip and Danny exchanged looks of
relief. Gadget walked up to the both of them, looking up at Danny. “Well, I’m
glad we were able to help save the studio. Wish we could’ve caught the
criminal, though. Gosh, I guess this means we can go home now!” Dale didn’t
like the sound of that. “Aw, do we have to? I hardly got any autographs
in my book yet! We haven’t even gotten to meet Don Knotts yet.”
Danny immediately blocked their route out of the
studio. “Hey, you’re going to stick around for the start of filming at least,
aren’t you? I mean, without you guys, things wouldn’t have worked out nearly as
good! I’d like you to come and stay with me as my guests for a couple of weeks.
I’ve certainly got enough room!”
“And Gadget could stay over at my place, if she’d
rather,” Sawyer added. “With your eye for inventing, maybe you’ll even come up
with a way to improve my interior decorating.” Chip wasn’t eager to be away
from his work for that long. “I don’t know if we could stay a couple of weeks,
but perhaps a few days wouldn’t hurt.”
Dale pressed him. “Aw c’mon, Chip! All you’re gonna
do when we get back is read Sureluck Jones stories and go to the police station
an’ you know it! This is a chance to see movie history being made!”
“Got to admit, the bloke’s got a point,” Monty said.
“It was kind of slow at home before all this, Chip.” Gadget threw in her
two cents. “Well, it would be intriguing, but I’d also like to get back to my
workshop pretty soon. How about if we stay a few days like Chip says and then
come back for the filming and the premiere?”
“That sounds like a good compromise,” Chip said.
Danny grinned at Dale. “I’ll even invite Don Knotts to the premiere when it’s
time. Along with the rest of you, of course.”
“Wowie-Zowie!” Dale shouted. “Big time, here we
come!”
Chapter 6 – A Not-So-Chance Meeting and the Big Finale
Two weeks later, the Rangers gathered at Stage 17 of
Lot C. Hot lights bathed the set below, giving the impression of being in a
football stadium at night. Sawyer, in the role of Desiree, was on the sidelines
in a cute cheerleader costume. The Rangers were in the stands nearby, which
were packed with a lot of the classic cartoon animals. At the moment Woody
Woodpecker was laughing that annoying high-pitched laugh of his as Slappy
Squirrel chased him, trying in vain to bop him with her sledgehammer.
Up in the announcers’ booth, Woolie the Mammoth was
on the left for the Pricetown Pachyderms. “…and today’s gridiron altercation
promises to be an epic battle of force versus speed,” Woolie said. Meanwhile,
on the right, Tony the Tiger was announcing for Tuberville Tech. “It’s a
showdown in Tiger Town! Today, the undefeated Pachyderms take on your
Tuberville Tigers. The chief matchup to look for is our own Stan Kowalski
against Pricetown’s leading defender, Max the Marauder! It’s going to be grrrrrrrrreat!”
The crowd cheered wildly when the home team came
out, Stan leading the way. Desiree jumped up and down, all the time fighting
for position with Blanche. For her part, Blanche had welcomed Desiree onto the
cheerleading squad eagerly—she wanted her close so she could get even with her.
The Rangers watched everything going on with great interest. “Golly, this is so
neat!” Gadget said. “We’re actually getting to watch a movie being made!”
“And we’re right in the middle of it!” Dale said.
“Say, where’s Chip?”
“Oh, he’s backstage,” Monty said. “Something about
checking back home for cases.”
Dale looked incredulous. “When all this neat stuff’s
happening!”
Chip just couldn’t stand it. He’d had to call Tammy,
who he’d left in charge of checking in at the police station. The munk had been
disappointed when she reported that nothing was going on—he wasn’t big into
this Hollywood stuff. The leader of the Rangers sat down for a minute on a prop
park bench, thinking, when someone sat on the opposite side.
“Hey chipmunk, where’d you get that funny-looking
hat?” a voice spoke. Chip looked around and came face-to-face with a
fedora-clad human, wearing a leather jacket. The human tipped his hat to him.
“Nice choice.” The man got up, leaving an autograph for him on a small slip of
paper. Chip was flabbergasted, his mouth wide open, as the human left the area.
He grabbed up the autograph like it was gold, looking as the human left the building.
“But how did…” Chip started.
“That was a thank-you.” It was Flanigan. The
director came up, tipping his director’s beret. “He used to do repair work on
my house. We’re old friends.”
“Gee, thanks Flanigan!” Chip said.
“You earned it. Now, we’d better get back to the
action.”
Chip headed for the set and joined the others in the
stands. “You’ll never guess who I just met!” Chip said excitedly, about to pull
out the paper.
“Quiet, Chip!” Dale said, shushing him. “You wanna
get us thrown off the set? We’re coming up to the big scene now!”
The game had been a battle, with Pricetown ahead
22-17 in the fourth quarter. Stan huddled the team near the sidelines. “Okay,
we’re going to run X-5, slot right, post pattern. On three!” His team consisted
of Yogi Bear and Snagglepuss at wide receiver, with the Swat Kats, T-Bone and
Razor, in the backfield. Pudge was at center, and the rest of the offensive
line was made up of the big animals on campus. As he spoke, Blanche began
making some hand signals to the opposite sideline, and one of the Pricetown
coaches wrote down something on a notepad. Desiree walked up to her. “And just
what are you doing?”
Blanche put her hands down, thinking fast. “Uh, I
have a boyfriend on the Pricetown team,” she said. “I was just waving hello.”
Desiree crossed her arms. “I thought Bruiser was your man. Blanche, if you say
hello that way again, I’ll stuff those pom-poms you’re shaking down your
throat.”
“Break!” Danny shouted, and the Tigers came to the
line. “Set! Hut one, hut two, HIKE!” Danny dropped back to pass and then it was
as if the offensive line parted in front of him. Max—yes, that Max—came
charging past Pudge and the rest of the offensive line like a one-man wrecking
crew and stepped on Stan. It left a big indentation in the field, with Danny at
the bottom of the giant footprint, and the ball popped and went flat.
“Whoa, bummer,” T-Bone said.
The referee blew his whistle and a medical team came
out. Stan reached up his hand for them to help him, but instead they took the
ball on the stretcher and took it off the field, tossing him a fresh one. On
the sidelines, the coach signaled for a time-out. With that, a bespectacled
water boy grabbed up his supplies. “When the team needs water I am not slow.
It’s hip, hip, hip and away I go!”
Stan swayed back and forth as he neared the
sidelines. The coach caught him by the arm. “You’re stinking it up out there,
Kowalski! It’s like they know what you’re calling before you call it!” Stan
shook his head to clear it. “What’ll I do then, coach?”
“Don’t waste any more footballs!” the coach shouted.
“Our athletic budget’s stretched to the limit!” Desiree ran up to Stan. “Stan,
are you okay?” Stan checked his playbook. “I don’t understand it! It’s like
someone’s telling them what we’re doing!” Off to one side, Blanche and Bruiser
traded winks. Desiree caught Stan’s attention. “I think Blanche and Bruiser are
tipping off the other side. You’ve got to call an auditor.”
“You mean an audible?” Stan asked.
“Yeah, one of those! Do something unpredictable,”
Desiree said.
With that, the referee blew his whistle again. In
the booth, Tony the Tiger was sweating bullets. “And it’s all going to come
down to this, Tiger fans! Fourth and seven, and the Tuberville Tech boys have
just ten seconds to score that touchdown!” Stan called his plays at the line,
and again Blanche signaled the other side. Then Stan called a new play,
catching them all off-guard.
“Looks like Kowalski’s calling an audible,” Tony
said. “He fades back, fakes to Razor, looking for a receiver, and FINDS
Snagglepuss along the sidelines for the first down! Two seconds left now, with
the receiver having made it out of bounds, stage right. Kowalski’s calling the
team into the huddle.”
“Okay, guys,” Stan said. “We need to score on this
play. T-Bone, Razor, you two go deep with the others and look for it in the back
of the end zone.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Yogi said. “Don’t worry at all,
just throw me the ball!”
“Give me time to throw, fellas. Break!” Stan said.
Pudge came up to the line, and saw Max staring him down on the other side,
sneering. Pudge growled back at him, causing the monolith of a man to blow him
off the line—with his breath. The official blew his whistle, calling offsides
on the Tuberville team.
Stan gulped as he saw Max chuckling, then approached
the huddle. On the sideline, Blanche had a pair of binoculars, watching the
quarterback. She began scratching like crazy, and the Pricetown coaches
immediately made some changes. Sawyer grabbed her purse and marched over. “Hey,
you little cheat! What is it with you!”
Blanche had been waiting for this moment and grabbed
a bottle of fleas she’d been saving for just such an occasion. The bad little
bunny uncorked the bottle and threw it at Sawyer. At the same moment. Sawyer
swung her purse. The brass knuckles inside it hit the bottle, shattering it,
and the contents went straight for Blanche.
In moments, Blanche was scratching for real. “What’s
wrong, Blanche?” Desiree said, laughing. “Your conscience itching you?” Blanche
screamed in rage, then the crowd screamed in excitement. Sawyer shifted her
attention as Danny took the snap.
Danny handed off to T-Bone who drew the defense then
tossed the ball back to Danny. “It’s a flea flicker!” Tony announced in the
booth. “And Max breaks through the line!” Tony said. “He’s after Kowalski with
a fury, no time left on the clock! Kowalski scrambles, he scrambles! A
receiver’s open in the end zone—he’s counting nickels and dimes back there…”
“Hey Yogi,” Boo Boo said from the stands, “why are
you counting nickels and dimes?”
“Because we parked in a metered space, Boo Boo!”
Yogi said, then flipped his friend some change. “Here, you go—save our
two-seater and go feed the meter!”
Tony the Tiger was clenching his mike, looking like
he wanted to strangle it. “No time left on the clock! Kowalski can’t see his
receivers through the mound of defenders! Now there’s three, no, four of them
on Kowalski’s tail!”
Desiree could see Blanche and Bruiser
laughing—though Blanche was paying for it—and knew that again they’d managed to
tip the other team. In a flash of inspiration, Desiree headed for the
bandleader and whispered into his ear. The leader nodded and the band began
playing the fast Latin rhythm “Havana” from “Guys and Dolls”.
“Stan!” Desiree shouted. “Remember the routine!”
Stan was tiring, and he’d already given up fifteen
yards avoiding the sack. Then he heard the band playing, and Desiree’s shout.
He spun about, using his dance skills. Max leaped for the sack, but Stan leaped
through the air and avoided him. The giant plowed a huge furrow in the field,
half burying himself before he could stop. Two other Pricetown defenders went
for the sandwich tackle with Stan in the middle, but Stan did a limbo move and
they crashed into each other above him. He popped up and twisted and turned, dancing
to the beat.
“He’s at the forty, the thirty-five!” Tony said, his
eyes bulging in wonder. “He fakes the linebacker with a pirouette and does a pas
de deux over another! He’s at the twenty, the fifteen, ten, five! He leaps
again, and—he’s in! Touchdown, Tigers! The Tigers win!”
The crowd went wild with excitement, and Desiree ran
out on the field. She hugged Stan tight. “You did it! You won!” Stan hugged her
back. “No Des, we won. Thanks.” Slowly, they started to come together
for a big kiss, when the team lifted the two of them on their shoulders. “Rah,
rah! Tigers, Tigers!” they shouted, and they were off with a big flourish from
the band to a big victory celebration.
The scene faded, and when the next one began it was
in the theater department. The stage director had a smug look on his face.
“Now, once more, gentlemen,” the British badger said with a flair of
satisfaction. “With feeling this time!”
Up on stage, the entire football team, thanks to
Bruiser, was adorned in tights and dancing to the opening music of “The
Nutcracker”. The coach was up there too, dancing right along with them, and
clouted Bruiser. “See what your stupid bet got us? I heard about your deal with
that Blanche girl and our rivals, too. You’ll be running laps from now until
doomsday!”
The coach danced over to Stan. “I have to admit,
without the dance training you’d never have made it. Even if we have to look
like dorks, if it nets us more wins next year, it’s worth it.” Stan grinned,
spinning around. “Don’t you worry, coach. We’ll be a lean, mean, dancing
machine!”
The team leaped as one through the air, shaking the
entire stage, and the stage manager and the audience applauded. Desiree was
also next to Danny, and smirked at the whole thing. “We’ve never had this many
people come for a performance, much less a rehearsal. Looks like
theater’s become popular all of a sudden.”
“When you can watch 300-pound linemen stumbling
around to the ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’, you bet it is,” Stan chuckled.
“Say, whatever happened to Blanche?”
“Oh, she got her just desserts,” Desiree said.
Backstage, Desiree grumbled. She’d been assigned to
cater the meals for the team, and she was hurrying back and forth to get the
cascades of food ready. Blanche scratched her head repeatedly, vowing never to even
look at another quarterback.
The scene switched back to the stage, where Stan and
Desiree danced together, happy in each other’s company. The big football
players lifted a long line of sugar plum fairies and turned completely around,
holding them up as they finished their routine. The audience clapped its
approval, and the curtain came down.
“And, cut!” Flanigan shouted. “That’s a wrap, folks.
Great job, everyone!” The Rangers, who had been in the audience, stood up and
clapped again as Danny and Sawyer came down from the stage.
“That was great!” Dale said, laughing still
from the sight of those big guys on stage. “That’ll have ‘em rolling in the
aisles. And the football stuff was the coolest!”
“Glad you liked it, Dale,” Danny said. “So, can we
count you an official musical fan now?”
“You bet!” Dale said. “When you do the next one,
call me. We’ll come up with all sorts of neat ideas, like a musical with
vampires, Frankenstein monsters, werewolves…” Chip bonked him on the head.
“Don’t worry about it, Danny. He’s always like that.” Danny blinked a couple of
times, thinking. “A musical with monsters…”
Sawyer bit her lower lip. “Uh oh…”
Danny’s face lit up. “Come on, Sawyer! Let’s get
back to my typewriter!”
L.B. intercepted them before Danny could get going.
“Great job, everyone. I have a really good feeling about this movie. Flanigan,
for all the help you gave on this film, I’d like you to think about replacing
me when I retire from Mammoth.”
“Me, sir?” Flanigan said, happily surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes,” L.B. said. “You’ve always been a loyal
Mammoth man, and I know you’ll carry on the legacy we’ve built here. What do
you say?” Flanigan took off his director’s cap. “Sir, all I can say is thanks.
I’ll do my best to justify your trust.”
L.B. shook Flanigan’s hand. “Good, good. I had a
feeling you’d come through if I gave you a chance. Now, what’s this I hear
about a sequel, Danny?”
“Oh, I’ve got this great new idea about monsters…”
Danny started, but Sawyer pulled him aside. “Let’s enjoy the completion of this
first movie,” Sawyer said. “Then we can start thinking about the next one.”
Chapter 7 – A Premiere Night to Remember and Fond Farewells
Premiere night in Hollywood is always a spectacle.
The spotlights told the glamour city that something big was going on, and limo
after limo pulled up at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. When Sawyer’s limo pulled
up, Stevens her manservant came around and opened the door. The crowd gasped in
awe as Sawyer exited, wearing a sparkling sequined evening dress of fiery blue.
Danny followed her up in his own limo, along with the Rangers. Danny was in a
tux, as were the munks, Monty and Zipper.
Gadget, despite her reluctance to dress up, had been
influenced this time by Sawyer. She was wearing a sparkling purple full-length
dress with matching shoes and a gold necklace. She wasn’t wearing
makeup—Sawyer’s influence only went so far—but it hardly registered with
anyone. As she walked up to the red carpet, escorted by the munks, the
photographers were taking her picture as readily as anyone else’s. Then all
attention went to Danny and Sawyer, who took up positions behind mikes set up
for them.
“Wow, what a turnout!” Danny said, his voice
resounding through big speakers. “We really want to thank everyone for coming
to tonight’s premiere of ‘A Street Cat Named Desiree’. It’s going to be great
fun for you, but not as much fun as it was for us to make! Sawyer, anything
you’d like to say?”
Sawyer took the mike stand in her hands. “When we
first came to Hollywood, they told us that cats don’t dance. Then when we made
this picture they told us that cats don’t direct. Now we’ve proved them wrong
on both counts. I eagerly await them to tell us something else we can’t do,
just so we can show them they’re wrong!”
The crowd gave a friendly laugh and clapped while
Danny and Sawyer waved to the crowd and went inside, the Rangers right behind.
There in the lobby, L.B. and Flanigan were in their tuxes, greeting the
big-wigs and schmoozing up a storm. “Sweethearts, celebrities, dahlings!”
Flanigan exclaimed. “The stars are here!”
L.B. motioned Sawyer and Danny over. “Folks, these
two cats have made Mammoth Studios what it is today. It’s a pleasure to be here
for the historic opening of this first animal-directed picture!” There was more
clapping and hand shaking, and then the small talk started. All the cast was
there in their finest, of course.
Pudge came up and got the Rangers’ attention. “Hi,
guys! Just wanted to say thanks for all the help you gave us. Glad you could
make it for the big premiere!” Dale gave the penguin a slap on the flipper. “We
wouldn’t have missed it for the world! Stars! Photographers! Spotlights!
Obscenely overpriced concession snacks!!!”
Gadget pointed across the room. “Golly! Don Knotts!”
Dale’s smile grew as he followed Gadget’s finger. Sure enough, Danny had kept
his promise and Don came over and thrilled Dale with all his best Barney Fife
lines, then signed his autograph book. Dale was in a state of euphoria, and
didn’t even notice when he bumped into T.W.
“Whoops, sorry there,” Dale said, helping the turtle
up.
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s probably good luck having a
chipmunk bowl you over,” T.W. said. T.W. straightened his bowtie and then
something fell out of his shell—a single bullet. T.W. grinned and put the
bullet back in place, heading off.
Dale scratched his head, thinking. “You know, come
to think of it—”
“Hey Dale, come on!” Chip shouted, waving Dale over,
where he and the others were talking to Tillie, Woolie and Frances. “They want
a group picture with us.”
Frances looked Dale over. “Sort of shrimpy—reminds
me of my fourth husband. Insisted on telling everyone he was a prawn.” Tilly
jumped up and down, shaking the whole place. “Oboyoboyoboy, picture time!”
Tilly picked the Rangers up in her hands, so they’d
fit into the frame with the rest of them. All the crew gathered around and in a
puff of smoke and light the picture was taken. Tilly set the Rangers down
again, and Dale now was as excited as Tilly had been. “Wowie-zowie! This stuff
is great! I think I feel a song coming on!”
Chip cast an annoyed look in Dale’s direction.
“Don’t be silly, Dale. There’s no such thing as spontaneous singing! That just
happens in the movies.” Dale crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? Hit it, guys!”
Conveniently, there was a small ensemble of
musicians in the lobby, and they hit on the tune to “You’ve Got a Friend in Me”
as Dale started singing.
The Rangers are here to stay We came and saved the day! When the odds aren’t very good And you’re down and out and you’re
mis-un-der-stood, hey, The Rangers are here to stay!
Dale pointed to the other Rangers. “C’mon guys, sing
along!” The Rangers took up the lyrics the second time through, save Chip. Then
Dale put an arm around his old friend, who was blushing with embarrassment at
being the center of attention.
Some munks might be a little smarter than I am Bigger and stronger, too But none of them will ever annoy you The way I do, It’s me and you, bud!
Now Chip joined in with him, laughing.
And as the years go by Our friendship will never die Two munks making those bad guys pay! The Rangers are here to stay!
The rest of the Rangers backed them up. “You got
that right!”
The Rangers are here to stay!
“Out of sight!”
The Rang-ers are here-to-staaaaay!
The munks finished up with an improvised soft-shoe
and the crowd clapped in approval. Sawyer leaned over the two munks. “All he
needed was a little inspiration, right Dale?”
“Right!”
Chip tipped his fedora. “Okay, maybe there is such a
thing as spontaneous song.” Dale grinned. “Yep! Just have to have your heart
open and feel the beat!” Meanwhile, Woolie and Monty were talking about places
they knew in common. “…so there I was, right in the middle of darkest India!”
Monty said.
“Darkest India?” Woolie said. “Don’t you mean
darkest Africa?”
“No, mate! I was right in the middle of an India ink
factory and they had a big spill!” Monty laughed and Woolie shook his head. “I
should have known. You know, I’m not exactly comfortable around mice.”
“That why you didn’t take that Colonel Hathi role
down at MouseWorks?” Monty asked.
“Precisely. Every actor has his limits, after all.”
With that, someone gave the five-minute warning
until curtain. The group started heading into the huge theater, and soon the
movie began. Danny was understandably nervous, but as time went on and he saw
the critics were staying he slowly relaxed. The crowd reacted exactly the way
he’d hoped, and the movie ended with the audience laughing along with the
kicker at the end. When the lights came up the crowd clapped and whistled, and
Danny breathed a sigh of relief.
The tabby looked around at the others. “Friends, I
think they like us!” T.W. trembled, looking for the exit doors. “Do you think
we can get out of here without having any black cats crossing our path?”
“Oh, don’t be silly, T.W.,” Tilly said. “That was so
much fun!” Tilly giggled and got up. When she did, the seats around her
settled back down to normal height. However, it’d helped both Pudge and the
Rangers, so they didn’t mind. “That was cool!” Pudge said. “I looked really
menacing as the center on that football team. Maybe I should’ve tried out for
the lead in the new ‘Hulk’ movie after all.”
Cranston crossed his arms, looking at Danny.
“They’ll probably snub you out for Best Picture and Best Director.”
Danny shrugged. “Well, if they do, it won’t take away from it being a good
movie.”
“Well said,” L.B. said. “Now, everyone join me for a
premiere celebration party at the Trocadero, my treat!”
“Now that’s the kind of words I like to
hear!” Dale said. “Lead the way!”
L.B. regaled the entire cast and crew and the
Rangers to song, food and the best of everything. Dale spent the entire evening
going from table to table, filling up his autograph book. Danny and Monty told
their favorite stories for hours on end, while Gadget had an entire entourage
of guys surrounding her (much to Chip’s jealousy) while she explained
everything from quantum theory to the mechanics behind automated stage
lighting.
Danny was telling the story of how he got the lead
for his first starring role when Sawyer tapped him on the shoulder. “Care to
dance?” she asked. She didn’t have to ask twice. The orchestra met them with
“In a Sentimental Mood” as they took the dance floor, and the patrons clapped
their approval as the duo glided across the floor.
“Thanks for standing by me, Sawyer,” Danny said. “I
couldn’t have gotten through all this without you.”
“You’re welcome, Danny,” she replied. “And we can’t
forget the Rangers, either. I was wrong about them, I admit it. They had a lot
to do with everything turning out right. But I’m glad that you found the way to
have fun again, and that everything worked out.”
Danny looked into her eyes for a moment, then looked
away, then back. “Um, Sawyer?”
“Yes?”
“Would you, uh, well…like to…that is…”
Sawyer’s face brightened, and her eyes shone. “Stan
Kowalski, are you asking me to go steady?” Danny smiled back and nodded. “After
all, we won the big game. What would I do without you, Des?” Sawyer laughed.
“Go down the drain, most likely. Okay, mister popular, give me your class ring
and we’ll call it a square deal.”
Danny reached into his pocket and pulled out an
exquisite diamond ring, slipping it onto her finger. “I bought this years ago,
but I never had the courage to give it you. I just didn’t know how you’d
react.” Sawyer gasped at the sight and Danny grinned. “I always said that
you’re my Starlight, and the sparkle from that’ll always remind me of it.”
Sawyer wrapped her arms around him, giving him one
platinum smooch. “Does that answer your question on how I’d react?”
“Uh huh…” Danny said, ecstatically surprised. “Um,
does this mean that we’re, uh, engaged now?”
Sawyer held up the ring. “You better believe it, big
shot.”
The crowd broke into applause, and from every corner
photographers appeared, splashing the room in light. Their friends came up to
congratulate them, and Tilly picked up the whole bunch, overcome with joy. The
next day, the papers had a splendid picture on the front page, announcing the
engagement:
The first
person to see it was Danny, who had it in his hands as he and Sawyer were
standing in Danny’s front yard to bid the Rangers farewell.
“Thanks for everything you’ve done,” Danny said.
“You’re always welcome to visit, and we’d like you to come back when we set the
date.”
“Gosh, this is exciting!” Gadget said. “I think it’s
great that you’re getting married. Don’t you think so, guys?” Chip nodded,
holding his jacket lapels. “Can’t think of two people that’ll do better. Well,
we’d better be getting back home. It’s a long flight, and crime never sleeps.”
The Rangers exchanged pleasantries with Danny and
Sawyer, then Gadget started up the RangerWing. The two cats waved goodbye and
watched the small aircraft disappear into the distance. Danny put his arm
around Sawyer. “Well, what’ll we do for an encore?”
Sawyer took his hand. “What else?”
Music started from somewhere, and the two of them
were off and dancing. They danced all around the yard, around the house, into
Danny’s rehearsal room and kept on going. Everything in their world was right,
and with each one to give the other strength they both sensed it was going to
stay that way.
In a few minutes they got into Danny’s Auburn,
headed for a celebratory drive around town. Leo took the record he’d put on the
turntable off, putting it away. The dutiful butler watched through the window
as they motored away, and grinned. “One thing is certain—life here will never
be boring.”
Danny, Sawyer, L.B., Flanigan, Tillie, T.W., Frances, Woolie, Pudge, Cranston, Darla Dimple,
Max, Slappy Squirrel and Yakko Warner are copyright Warner Brothers and used without
permission. Yogi Bear, Snagglepuss, Magilla Gorilla, Fred and Wilma Flintstone and the Swat
Kats are copyright Hanna-Barbera and used without permission. Woody Woodpecker is copyright
Universal Studios and is used without permission. Underdog is copyright Total TV Productions
and is used without permission. Tony the Tiger is a registered trademark of the Kellogg
Company, and appears without permission. The Rescue Rangers, Tammy and Norton Nimnul are
copyright Disney and are used without permission, but with the utmost respect.