Cottonpaws looked around the edge of the hill. Watching the cannible squirrls dancing around his friend Twopaws by the light of a big old fire. They were shaking oversized salt and pepper shakers over him and he sneezed loadly.... Blowwing some of the cannible squirrles over.
Cottenpaws sighed. "How does that otter get into so much trouble. Ah well. Time to save him again."
Cotterpaws put the headdress on and leaped out from behind the hill. "Behold! Your god Uuuga Uuuga is here!"
The cannible squirrels turned as one, their little glowing beady red eyes glittering back at Cottenpaws. Not a screech or a chitter from any of them, as they waited to see what she'd do next.
"It is WRONG to eat the otter! You are CANNIBAL squirrels! You are not to feast on outsiders, only on your own!"
There were a few querelous chitters back and forth, and some of the squirrels turned to look at each other... but slowly, the confusion turned to agreement,- and the squirrels bounced up and down excitedly. Meanwhile, cottonpaws untied Twopaws and together they headed for the edge of the clearing, trying to escape before the squirrels' attention returned to them.
Just as Twopaws vanished over the hill, Cottenpaws felt something nip her poofy tail. The squirrels were attacking her! "Stop! How dare you attack Uuga uuga!"
She turned to see the army of squirrels staring at her once more, this time brandishing knives and forks that glittered menacingly in the red glow from their eyes.
Suddenly, the squirrells stopped in their tracks. "FOOT!"
Cottonpaws paused for a moment. Foot? The squirrells only started chittering and dancing about. "FOOT!"
Just then, a large, fuzzy foot stolen from an old Yerf drawing squashed them all flat with a pbtht! sound!
The camera zooms out from a TV monitor where the carnage took place to a bunnyish version of Eric Idle. "And yes, that was Cottonpaws's latest epic, "Foot." And now for something completely different."
Twopaws came back to the set and shoke his head. "Now that was just all fucking wrong! Why. In my day we would have blown up the cannible squirrls with an A-Bomb or something."
Fred Director ran over to Twopaws. "Twopaws! Darling! Don't say that! It was perfect! You were perfect! Cottenpaws on the other hand." Fred just looked at Cottenpaws. "Is a compleat clutz.. "You should have scremed when they bit your tail... but nooooo... you just turned around. No Drama! No Feeling. Now we might have to to it all over again!"
The Cannible Squirrles pulled themselves out from under the huge foot. All lighting up their smokes. "Hey. I don't want to go through that again. I mean this is the thrid take and we are getting tired of being squished by the huge foot."
The other squirrles agreed. "Do something Fred! This is stupid."
"Well... how about if we switched it to a big cottony paw instead of a foot? It wouldn't hurt as much."
"You have *got* to be kidding me," Cottonpaw said, "It doesn't work if it isn't a foot. And I don't see what was wrong with that last take... I'm a warrior-rogue, not some little girl who screams just because someone bites her."
"Next time I'll bite you for real and we'll see who's a warrior," one of the squirrels chittered.
"Look, look," Fred said, "Everyone take five. Have some donuts. Cottonpaws, see me in my office."
Cottonpaws stood up bolt straight as the others scattered towards the break room. Not... not the OFFICE!
Cottonpaws stared at her hands as she headed toward the break room, and sat down on one of the couches, Twopaws across from her. He didn't look too happy, either, and the squirrels were taking out their contacts. 5 minutes. Penty of time to go to the candy machine. Delicious chocolate honey-nuts. She looked at Twopaws, and he nodded understanding. "Back in three," he mouthed.
She tripped over the wires strewn over the halls, making her way past and to the machine and put her money in. Honey, cherry, and...
"Breakover!" the squirrels chittered. They poured out into The Office, Fred looking white and shaking before his desk. "Where's--alright, everyone calm down."
He began again, assuming a more authorative posture, and rubbing his hands over thinning hair. Truthfully, he looked like a lanky teenager in a set of bad 7 sizes over artists clothes. Twopaws had always wanted to tell him to loose the black, especially the make-up, but STILL...
Not that he knew anything about clothing. Cottonpaws would. Clotheshorse. He snorted.
"We are now," Fred cleared his throat, "Going to be doing a take off on Mighty Mouse."
It was at that point Cottonpaws came in, tripping over the doorframe and spilling a golden flood of hony-nut all over Fred. His face turned even redder. Cottonpaws cleared her throat, "We're..?"
She made her way around Fred, staring at him from all angles, "And how would cannibal--Mighty Squirrel, Inventer of Cannibalistic Cuisine?"
Fred got an evil grin on his face... spreading from ear to foppish ear. "Oh... that is very simple Cottonpaws. What really sells nowdays is a lot of blood and guts. So we are going to do all sorts of fun thing... tail chopping off... ear pulling.... slicing and dicing! With real fake blood!"
Twopaws made a face. "You got to be kidding. We wont do that Fred. Your nuts. Cartoons are supposed to be fun! Not full of blood and guts."
The Cannible squirrls all notted... chittering together. "We wont do that. Tiss just to icky."
Fred shoke his head and pulled out their contracts. "Read the fine print on page 12. In there you agree to do a horror movie cartoon!"
Cottonpaws snatched the contract and read. His eyes leaping back and forth over the small print. He had to get out a magnifing glass to even read the print as you couldn't see it with a normal eye. They looked up with a stunded expreshon. "That is what it says everyone!?!?!?"
Fred waved his hand. "Out out! I will see you in the mornning for the new shoot." Everyone filed out of the room... to stuned to talk.
One of the cannible squirrls looked up at Cottenpaws. "We have to do soemthing about this!" They chittered in rage.
"Who's 'we'? It's your fault for complaining about 'Foot'," Cottonpaws said. "I'm okay with a horror flick. It'll be a good change of pace."
The squirrels chattered angrily. "But..." she continued, "If you *really* don't like the idea, there is *one* thing we could do."
Twopaws gasped. "You don't mean..."
Cottonpaws scowled. "Of course not, silly. I mean the... you know."
Twopaws blinked. "The... [squeaky squeaky]" He made the hand motions, too, and Cottonpaws nodded. "But doesn't that need someone to..."
"Well, that's where the squirrels come in," Cottonpaw replied. "What do you say, boys, you up for it?"
The squirrels chuffled their tails againt the floor, a kind of featherey motion.
Closest they could come.
Cottonpaws and Twopaws turned at once, grinning at one another like two bandits, "[Squeakysqueaky] it is!" they both signed furiousley, then collapsed in a jiggling heap of laughter. The squirrels chittered. Bandit Cottonpaws scrambled about in her dressingroom, pulling out a dark cape, and something that looked like a sombrero, except that it had fuzzy red balls hanging around the brim. She would be the best warroir/rouge for this operation. Best to have the right equipment. She adjusted the hat, ignoring Twopaw's hammering on the door. "Inna minute!" she hissed, and grabbed some yellow gloves before dashing out and banging the door behind her. "We have to be SILENT!!!" Twopaws ducked his head in mute apology.
It didn't last THAT long, however, and they both ran to the candy machine, a flood of cannibalistic squirrels flooding behind. "So, where is it?"
Cottonpaws halted. "You know..." she blinked bright brown eyes, "I haven't the slightest." Twopaws blinked, too. For a moment they just sood there, then realised there was a candy machine right by them. The squirrels swarmed about it, devouring the metal, "Squeakysqueakysqueaky!" noises came out.
As one, Cottonpaws and Twopaws looked at eachother, then at the pile of candy pouring out of the still-being devoured machine. "Where's that coming from?" she asked.
Twopaws blinked slowly, "I think...it's the squirrels." They looked at the squirrels, and started to grin. "squeakysqueak."
Cottenpaw looked around from one squirrl to the next. "The dream computer is ready to go... we are going to enter Freds dreams and give him the dream of his lifetime. He will never want to do a horror film when we get done with him... Do you all understand?
All the little Cannible squirrle heads nodded and grinned. Then the fun started. Everyone ran off and took there places around Fred's bedroom. "Ready... Action!"
Fred mumbled happily to himself, 'Oh so much money.' 'My name in lights'.. 'Oh oh... an oscer? For me?' Then at the foot of his bed there wasa thunderclap and the smoke of brimstone and fire. Fred was sitting up in his bad a moment latter looking at the creature before him... the hookymask smelling of old dryied blood.
"WHo... who are you? What are you doing in my bedroom?"
The hooky masked figure pointed a rotten finger at Fred. "I am the ghost of horror films past. You will come with me Fred... or face oblivioun.
Fred just blinked stupidly. "Um, okay, I'll come."
"MUA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! So, you think you can -- um, what? Oh, fine, then," The dark figure shifted back into a horrible booming voice, "Follow me."
The room swirled and disappeared into darkness, and they were standing in a small cabin, with wooden faux-log walls and tiny bunkbeds. In each bed, a small squirrel slept, chitter-snoring gently.
After giving Fred a chance to look around, the figure began. "This is the land of the innocents. These poor children," the figure indicated the squirrels, "Are doomed to be horribly, gruesomely... MURDERED!"
"Cool," said Fred, "Hey, the killer can't see or touch me in this sort of trip, right? That means I can get a really close look." He hopped up onto one of the bunkbeds. "I wish I had a camera, though."
After the screams and the blood, Twopaws disconnected and sank his head into his hands.
"That... did not go well," Cottonpaws said, staring at the monitor. "Come on, wake up the squirrels," she motioned to the twitching, moaning forms of the cannibals, still connected to the machine, "We need to brief them for the next segment."
The squirrels twitched, one of their heads poking up, "We don'tlikethisidea!"
The otter blinked, "Well, it's the best chance we've got," Twopaws said, but the squirrels just chittered. "Maybe --he's allergic to turnips!"
"Turnips?" Cottonpaws squeaked, "What in the--what do you mean?"
"Turnips!" Twopaws chittered happily, "He's allergic to them! I remember eating at the company banquet--you know, the ones they throw to make us all feel better but all they serve is green toast and cheese?"
Cottonpaws nodded. She liked green toast.
"Well, they ran out of cheese last time, so they used turnips." he stopped, whiskers quivering proudly, showing what a smart otter he was!
Cottonpaws stuck her tounge out at him. "Okay, so we'll make him dream he's a turnip! One, big, giant turnip from the land of Koopah!!!"
The squirrels huggd themselves and chittered. "Fetch!" roared Cottonpaws. And they left.
Cottonpaws presently turned to Twopaws, "What about brussel sbrouts?" He shrugged, "Well...I hear they uh... I donno what they do. But we could make a turnip-brussel sprout mixture, maybe."
Cottonpaw's qhiskers quivered, "I come up with the best ideas! Why not make him into a paste! Then we can dip those potato chips in, you know, the ones that taste like catfish and have the funny lumps?" Twopaws started to agree, then frowned, "You come up with the best ideas?" But Cottonpaws was already gone.
And so it was that our heros set off their quest, down the Yellow Brick Road toward freedom. A Higher goal, to save their horrible, talentless show from the industry of Oz that would squash it and tuirn it into another horrid, talentless show. The moral of it is...oh, well, there is no moral. On to the next scene...
Fred rolled over in his bed... thinking about camps and killing innocent little children in his next film... it would be so good... so very good.... he would win so many awards for the original idea that no director in the world would ever be able to surpass him. He was jolted out of bed by another bold of thounder and lighting.
"I am the ghost of horror movies present. You will come with me Fred."
Fred looked up excitedly at the normal looking guy in yuppy cloths. "Yes yes! I will go with you! Show me more!"
"As you with." The ghost of horror present snapped his fingers... and Fred found himself at the convention of Turnip lovers. "Witness and feel the newest and most deadly of horrors. All of these people will die from Turnip poisining... from eating... you!" The Ghost of present Horror turns Fred into a turnip and he screems in his vegtible way.
An hour later Fred woke up in a sweat... then wiped his forget. "What a nightmare... geezus." He looked over at his note book and picked it up... scribillying hastily... "God what a good idea! I can't wait to make a film like that." With a happy smile on his face he snuggled down to get back to sleep...
Cottonpaws glared as the monitor winked off, laughing static at her.
"What--" Twopaws leaned over the chair, "It's blank." Cottonpaws said. The squirrels chittered, falling over in a complaining heap, "We tired of this! We want--"
"Shaddup!!!" she roared at them, then turned back to the monitor, hitting a few keys. "It's also dead." Twopaws gently touched the screen, then flopped to the floor.
Cottonpaws chittered miserably, and shook her head, "I wonder what's he's seeing...is there anythine ELSE he's allergic to? Doghair?"
Twopaws snorted, "Not really. What if he got caught with some contraband?"
Cottonpaws eyes widened, "I DO think up the best ideas!"
"But that stuff's illegal? How're we going to---" slowly, they both looked back to the smoking monitor.
Cottonpaws turned, hitting he monitor again with her paw. It fizzed, little bright fireworks coming out of it. It also made popping noises. A few more varieties, she decided, and you'd have a cd album. Meanwhile, Twopaws made his way around to the back of the machine, to where the turnips and squirrels were plugged in.
"Here's our problem--moveit!" the monitor came up, and Twopaws went back to his seat. "No what...?"
"Here it is!" He pulled out a root and pasty white goo oozed out. "Turnip paste! It fried all the circuits!"
"Then we set up another!" She strolled out and came back with a new monitor.
"Where did you get that?"
"Fred's office. He never uses it." she set it into place and began to reconnect the squirrels. The question was, what would be scary enough to make Fred back off his plans.
"We need new ideas," she said.
"What are directors afraid of?" Two paws scratched his noggin in thought.
"Producers?" chittered a squirrel.
"No, but close!" Cottenpaws grinned evilly.
Fred chirped softly to himself in bed... oh... what a wonderful dream.... things to do... so much to the world.... oh how wonderful.
A clap of thunder had Fred sitting up in his bed in no time. Looking at the acid blooded creature before him. "What the hell are you?"
The craturer hissed... "I am the ghost of horrors future." Its long claws and really nastly looking teeth chittered with each other. Long gooy drips of saliva came off of its rubbery looking lips.
Fred nodded and looked compleatly excited. "Oh boy! Get on with this dream! I want to see what happens next. Godz! I will be as well known as Lucas!"
The Alian sighed. "As you wish."
With a slap of its tail... fred and the ghost of horrors future found themselves on the street by the employment office. Cannibal squirrls lined up going in.
"Ha!" Fred said, "You BET I'm going to fire those bums. With an idea like the ones I've been dreaming, I'll be able to get *real* actors. A rabbit that can act, for one thing, and a real ferret. Otters just don't cut it anymore." Fred paused. "So, is that all?"
The Alien just pointed silently towards the doorway, through which the unmoving line snaked. "Oh, you want me to go inside?" He paused. "Oh, hell, why not. The rest of this dream's been super-kewl."
Fred stepped through the wall into the unemployment office. There, at the head of the line, were Cottonpaws, Twopaws, and... himself. "WHAT? Oh, come on. I'm really losing my suspension of disbelief here."
The Alien just said, "Listen."
"I'm sorry," the clerk said, reading off a screen, "Fred, but your unemploymen- t has run out. We just can't believe that you're trying to find work and haven't found anything in six months."
"It's not my fault," the future-Fred said, coughing up some phlegm onto the counter, "Not my..."
"Don't worry," the Cottonpaws said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "We'll still take care of you. You're like... oh, like a father to us." She and the Twopaws snickered at each other, and led him outside while the squirrel next in line stepped up to the counter.
"But... you'll make me..." the Fred whimpered.
"Would you rather go to prison, old man? It's still another five years before the statute of limitations runs out." The Fred whined and followed them out, dejectedly, tail dragging in the snow.
"Huh?" Fred asked the alien, "Prison?"
The scene whirled to show Fred sleeping in his bed while the dreaming Fred and the alien hovered over him. In the dim light the mind-control ray from the dream machine was clearly visible. Suddenly, it cut off, and the future (although not far-future) Fred got up and stretched. "What a great dream! I'll be bigger than Speilburg!"
The camera pulled back, pulling the dreaming Fred along with it, revealing the previous scene to be a video-tape being shown to a ragged Fred by a trenchcoated figure. "We told you to pay us. The Cabal knows who really came up with the idea for your last movie now... you'll never work again. Pay us now, or we'll tell the police."
"Okay, okay," the ragged Fred whimpered, "But... but what will I... how will I live?"
"There's always unemployment," the trenchcoat said in Twopaws' voice. MUA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Suddenly, it dissolved into a swarm of squirrels, that leapt over the dreaming Fred and started biting. Fred screamed and ran around, and finally woke up to find himself uneaten...
But the dream-machine's ray was clearly visible. With a click, it cut off, and a dark figure opened the door and stepped into his room.
"So, 'ghost'," Fred sneered, "It was you all along."
"If you make a horror movie, we can claim plagarism and copyright infringement- ," Cottonpaws said, "So I SUGGEST you reconsider."
"Reconsider? Those constracts are iron-clad."
"Wanna bet?" Cottonpaws sneered at him. "Perhaps you should read your own contracts." she whipped one out. "Accoriding to this, the part of the first part agrees to perform services for the party of the second part as long as the party of the third part agrees with the scripting requirements of the film maker's guildl and the producers Association in accordance with statute 46, paragraph 22, line 6 of the stuntman's Association by-laws and the code of Hamarabi whereuponthe afforesaid parties are hkeld accountable by the television code of children's programming to uphold section 28, paragraphs 34-42 inclusive and to produce wholesome fare for tots in our time slots! To affront these inclusions in the contracts causes said agreements to be null and void under guild standards for toons thus allowing said afore signed petitions to fall by the wayside, thus allowing we, the parties of the first part to disavow all herein and negate any demands by the party ofl the second or third parts, you and the producers, at which time the parties of the third part can legally seize under law all assets of the party of the second part thus freeing the parties of the first part from all written or oral obligations they may have entered into. Are there any questions?" Silence followed. Fred stood, frown on his face, mulling over everything. the glare in his eyes focussed on Cottenpaws as he ripped the contract from her hands and read it over, magnifying glass in hand. A deep growl rumbled from his throat. "what th'. . . ? Where'd . . . ? Howd . . . ?"
Days later Fred clapped as the newly casted Cannible squirrles danced across the clouds. "Come on CareSquirrls. We can't let horrorheart win. Everyone use your magic on them!" All of the squirrles turned on Twopaw. They had little painted hearts on their tummys.
Cottenpaws put the blowhorn to her mouth... "And that's a wrap!