Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was almost 6 pm in Burbank, California. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, and most toon stars were on their way home. The lot wasn't busy for a Friday afternoon, but for Austin-- the new Warner Brothers employee-- it would prove to be quite the evening.

Walking over towards the water tower, Austin could hear the medications inside his book bag rattle with every bounce in his step. You see, Austin had a significant position on the lot. Not only was he the security, but Austin was in charge of getting the toons that lived on the lot settled for the evening. Or, at least, that's what he's been told.

There were plenty of toons that spent their nights on set. Austin has grown accustomed to his role given that he's just a night guard. Walking around set after dark and finding minuscule tasks to pass the time was a great way to familiarize himself with his job. However, he had clocked in earlier than he anticipated this Friday afternoon; for he was called upon to medicate the toons within the Warner Brother's water tower. If Austin were being honest to himself, he didn't even know there were toons inside that metal contraption. He's heard stories and ancient tales, but he didn't think they were true. Until now.

Austin looked up at the tower and sighed. He wasn't the biggest fan of heights, but if his paycheck depended on it, then he'd have to get over it. Austin was told that the toons inside were asleep. They had been for the past couple of decades so he had nothing to worry about. The risk of them escaping or causing trouble was low. But Austin was late. Sure, he clocked in earlier than his original shift, but he clocked in later than he was told to-- significantly later. It wasn't his fault, he's a night staff... he sleeps during the day.

Taking a breath, Austin began to climb up the red metal ladders. He looked around to see if anyone was around but saw no one on the roads-- which was unusual given the hour. Austin figured that it would have been much more crowded and loud given the sun was still in the sky. He hummed in thought, "Maybe they're still not out yet."

As he made it to the top, Austin set the bag down on the railings and pushed back his brown hair away from his face. He stood there for a moment, admiring the enormous standpipe before him. The colors were vibrant and sleek, looking almost freshly painted. Austin tapped on the side of the tower, feeling the hollow metal underneath his warm fingers before climbing the side to reach the top.

Whatever was inside the tower was silent.

And it was true, the Warners were, awfully silent.

For inside the water tower, the Warners were far from unconscious. Wakko leaned against the cold metal on the side of the tower. With nothing to entertain him, Wakko found his own creative ways to pass the time. From counting the specks of rust to reciting the countries capitals, Wakko decided to spend this afternoon following the pattern of bolts and screws that lined up against the walls, sealing them in. He's spent the last 27 years looking for something new within those lines, but aside from the new shades of rust that collected inside, there was nothing new to be found.

It also didn't help that he was sitting in pitch darkness. All Wakko could make out were the disfigured shapes and shadows that danced around in his vision. Not much entertainment, even for someone with an imagination as active as his.

As the time went on, it began getting harder to imagine a reality that ceased to exist. Faint memories of the outside world played like broken film. If it weren't for the occasional bumps, mumbles, and taps, Wakko would have thought his siblings were a figment of his imagination.

And if it weren't for the unusual noise that began to plague his ears on this particular afternoon, Wakko would have thought he was too. The small and repetitive dink rang loud.

Wakko perked his ears up. There was silence before the shuffling sound could be heard again. Wakko's ears twitched at the new stimuli. What was that? Wakko didn't remember having a leak or loose screw. He's inspected the place inside and out various times, there was no way that--

The noise was loud this time and it echoed throughout the tower for much longer than usual. Wakko looked up at the top of the water tower and squinted his eyes. There had to be something he'd miss. Fortunatly, his brother heard it too.

Yakko laid on his back with his arms stretched out beside him as he stared up towards the roof. For the past however-long, Yakko's mind has been far from quiet. The silence and darkness that encapsulated their home-- if he could even call it that-- was suffocating. When you're a toon destined to speak, Yakko held onto tight to every opportunity. This was one of them. Yakko was expecting for his siblings to say something, he pulled himself upright and waited.

With neither of his siblings speaking, Yakko was beginning to fear that they were gone. It wasn't uncommon for unused toons to disappear from existence, vanish into thin air when their time came to an end. What if he'd forgotten what they sounded like? Yakko looked around, he already couldn't see anything other than their silhouette; losing their voices would break him. As the sound continued to ring through the Water tower, Yakko could feel his fingertips start to tingle with uncomfortable anticipation.

Wakko tried his best to locate the sound. The uncertainty of the sound's origin was unsettling for him. He could feel his tail whip back and forth as he sat up with his back straight. He's learned the hard way that he couldn't trust sounds, for every sound during his paralyzed enclosement meant pain. So, he had to make it stop. With a low hum, Wakko began tapping his fingers on the floor, as if creating his own sound would ward off the shuffling above.

"What are you doing?" Yakko asked, the sound of his own voice bringing him a familiar sensation of relief. It rang loudly, breaking the heavy blanket of silence around them.

It was the first time Wakko heard his brother's voice in a while. It made him jump in surprise. "You don't hear it?" He asked, pointing up towards the top, "the sound." These were the times Wakko wished he could see. If only he could see his brother and sister look at him as he spoke. But much like everything else, he imagined it.

"Of course I hear it," Yakko replied.

"It's like nails on a chalkboard, isn't it?"

Yakko looked up at the roof and gave himself a shrug. He didn't think it sounded that bad, but now that his brother planted the seed inside his head, it was getting annoying. He was used to the silence. The eldest Warner sat up and played with the helm of his pants, and he tried to listen to the sound again. There were faint shuffles that he could pick up, but they were too low to figure out from where they were coming.

"What is it?" Dot asked from her spot, but neither brother gave her any reply. (Well, they did, she just wasn't able to see them shift their attention to the sound of her voice.) She sat near the opposite end of her brothers.

Now that it had been established that the Warners were alive and well-- in their own right-- they felt energy surge through them. Yakko looked up at the top of the towers dome, and that's when it hit him. Yakko had an idea about where the sound was coming from, and if he were right, he'd be ready. Because how dare the studio.

Yakko couldn't see his younger siblings, but he could feel them close. He tried to reach out towards them, but he couldn't feel them against his hands. He felt his heart race. Knowing that your siblings are so close, yet so far, is pain and angst he wishes on no one.

The noise got louder, causing the three toons to lock their focus on the door above their heads. They could hear the rusted metal turn and clank over their heads, the sound of someone's voice unrecognizable. Dust fell like rain into the darkness with each turn of the metal lock. It caused the Warners to sneeze.

"Bless you," a voice said, and before either sibling could reply, the loud creak of the metal door fully opening up filled their ears.

The Warners shielded their eyes at the new light that sliced through the room.

"Are you three the Warners?" the voice asked again. For one, the voice was unfamiliar. It was hard to forget about the sound of ones voice when they were the culprit of their pain, but this voice was different. It sounded nervous, which was not something the Warners were used to hearing. The Warners were used to a hard and stern voice. The authoritative voice that would always command them, manipulating their outcomes. The Warners weren't used to whatever this was.

As Yakko blinked his eyes in an attempt to focus his vision, he could make out the outline of a small man sitting at the edge of the entrance hole.

"Um, I'm here to give you something."

This scene was something Yakko visioned in his mind for years. He would spend day after day just thinking about the moment the tower door finally opened, but now that it was finally here, he found himself going off-script. You see, when in an entranced state, all you're able to do is think. And boy, did Yakko think. He had planned this moment in fine detail; every word, action, and attempt was planned. When the light came shining into the darkness, Yakko was supposed to fight them back and make their escape. But with the man innocently sitting on the top, waving down at them with a soft smile, there was something morally wrong. The man wasn't supposed to be nice.

Even with the man's low threat level, Wakko couldn't help but bare his fangs as the man slowly reached into his red bag. Wakko instinctively stepped forward and felt his fur stand on end, daring the man to step closer.

"Here," the man said, tossing down small oblong pills, "These are for you three."

The pills rattled onto the floor. The Warners looked down at the capsules and back up at the random man above their heads in disturbed confusion.

"These better not be what I think they are," Dot said, looking down at the white pill. She felt panic build up in her stomach as she tossed the medication on the ground as if it burned. She recognized the pills instantly. She could feel her eldest brother stare at the ground before he reached down to pick up what she had dropped. Dot didn't look at her brothers. Even with the light shining above them, she had other things on her mind. And for Dot to hold something abover her brothers, it meant it was serious.

"Just some multivitamin"-- Austin was cut off from his sentence by the feeling of pills hitting his face. He looked down at the Warners with shock, "Dude, what was that for!?"

"Don't act stupid," Yakko muttered as he picked up the rest of the pills, feeling the familiar sensation in his hands. "You know what these are. So go on, bring the rest of the team!"

A team? Austin looked down at the three toon and scrached the back of his head. He didn't know what they were talking about. Why would he need a team to give the toons their vitamins? He was surprised they were awake; Austin had just planned to drop in, place it under their tongue, and hop back out. Seeing that the Warners were awake, Austin figured it would make his job a bit easier. However, it was quickly proving to not be the case.

For one, it wasn't what Austin said it was. Toons don't need any supplement to keep them healthy, but the Warners were lied to. A Maintenance pill, Plotz had said. To keep them up to date.

Yakko should have known it'd be too good to be true. As he stood in the center of their water tower, Yakko felt the memories flood back, clear as day. The CEO would never agree to keep the Warners in tip-top condition. Not only would Plotz never agree, but if it weren't for the cartoon ethics that held him back, the Warners would have been "dipped" a long time ago.

So, these were far from cartoon vitamins.

"Well, that's what they told me," Austin rebuttled as he looked down at the bottle. He wasn't sure what he was given the toons, and he had no clue as to why they were upset.

"Who's they?" Yakko asked, looking down at the pill in his hand.

"My boss."

"Which is?"

"Mr. Plotz?" Austin replied, unsure as to why the toon was asking. He took new pills and tossed them down, hearing them land on the metal floor with a dink, much like the one that stirred up the siblings below.

Yakko looked up at the young man as he reached into his hammerspace, pulling out a small red slingshot with a wooden handle. He scooped up the pills that landed in front of him and placed them in the red projectile pocket. He smiled, enjoying the taste of mischief as he aimed, pulled back, and let go.

"Hey!" Austin shouted as he rubbed his forehead, "Can you three just take your damn pills! Don't throw them at me!"

Wakko flicked his tail, "Oh, did that hurt?"

Austin fixed his hair, "Yeah, kind of."

Seeing his brother, Wakko reached into his hammerspace and pulled out an empty pie tin, wanting to join in on the fun as well. He mustered up as much strength as he could and sent it flying over like a disk hitting the man's forehead in the process.

"Fuck," Austin winced as he grabbed his forehead. He felt panic rise in his chest when he felt something warm drip down his fingers. "Shit, I'm bleeding!"

"Aw," Dot said, making no effort to show compassion in her voice. She turned towards her brother, seeing only the faint outline and their shadows as she leaned towards him, "So, he's new?"

Yakko gave her a curt nod.

"So, you know what that means, right?" Dot smirked.

Of course, Yakko knew what that meant. He watched as Dot stepped out of the spotlight and blended back into the darkness.

Up on the top, Austin was beginning to get frustrated. "Just take the fucking pills!" he called out again, patching his wound with his shirt. Austin didn't believe in the tales that were told about the infamous toons in the tower, but now that he was interacting with said toons, he started to. "Holy hell, Plotz was right; you guys are so unstable."

"He said we're unstable?" Yakko asked, feeling his chest fill with frustration. The grip around the slingshot handle grew stronger.

"Yeah, he said you guys were lunatics," Austin replied with a wince. "So take the fucking medication already so I can go!" There was a hint of frustration in his voice.

Yakko chuckled, which Austin thought to be unsettling. He didn't say anything funny, did he? Austin looked at the bottle of pills and grabbed some more. "Stop laughing and take them! Hurry up I"--

The rest of the sentence failed to leave his mouth when Austin felt something wrap around his throat and start to pull him down. He instinctively reached out to grab onto the water tower's lid, but it was useless. He ended up falling in the tank, closing his only way out in the process.

"Oh great," Dot deadpanned as she released her tail from around the man's neck, "You closed it."

"Fuck, my arm," Austin gasped in pain, "I think it's broken!"

Yakko raised a brow, "And? Do we look like doctors to you?"

Austin couldn't see anything anymore. He used his good arm to push himself up, feeling the blood from his head wound trickle down his cheek. "I can't see shit in here," he mumbled in pain. Damn, these toons live like this?

"Yeah, that's what happens when we get revoked of light," Wakko said as he held his arms out, trying to find the man on the floor.

Austin tried to feel around the for his bag. He knew it was down here somewhere; he heard it drop with him. "When I get out of here, Plotz is gonna"--

"Oh, please," Dot scoffed, looking down at the man and seeing his faint sillouette, "Plotz won't do shit. You're new, aren't you? Disposable?"

"Funny you should talk," Austin shot back, "You're just as disposable as I am. Maybe even more. Because even when I'm gone, they can't create another me. You, on the other hand," Austin winced, "They can create as many yous as they want." Austin wasn't sure why he was arguing with a toon girl, especially with a toon girl that just broke his arm.

Dot didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say since he was right. There was nothing to argue, but thankfully, her brothers replied for her.

"That'll make us replaceable, not disposable."

"Same shit."

"Wrong."

Austin blinked a few times, hoping that his eyes would adjust to the new lighting, but nothing. It was still pitch black. "Where are you? I don't even know where you are!"

"We are everywhere," Yakko said with a smile, "And nowhere."

"My arm," the man whimpered, "I need to see the nurse. Let me out of here!"

"Hey! We need to see the nurse too! Not for the same reasons, though," Wakko winked and exclaimed in excitement.

The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny flashlight. He flicked it on with his fingers and shone it around, stopping when he saw one of the Warners sitting next to him. "How do I get out of here?"

Yakko shrugged, "If you find out, let us know."

With his vision back, Wakko snatched the flashlight out of the man's hand and shone it around. "Oh," he said, looking down at the bookbag with its contents all over the floor, "Is that what I think it is?"

Yakko's smile dropped when he laid eyes on the scattered items on the floor, not because he was upset about it, but because it was almost too good to be true. Yakko leaned forward and crawled towards the bag, reaching towards the crowbar that sat neatly inside the pile of instruments.

"Don't touch that!" Austin cried out as he made his best attempt to crawl forward. He didn't get very far with only one working arm.

Yakko pushed on Austin's broken limb, causing the man to scream in pain. "Shoo," Yakko said, looking through the supplies, "Fuck off."

Austin furrowed his brow and reached over towards the bag, snatching it out of Wakko's hand. "It's mine!"

Wakko didn't let go of the bag. He held on tight as Austin tried to tug it out of his hands. Seeing the man desperately fight for it was entertaining in itself, but Wakko didn't have the time to watch the show. "Drop it," Wakko said, pulling out his mallet from his hammerspace. He locked eyes with the man.

Austin looked back at the young toon with cold in his eyes and scoffed, "I'm not listening to children."

"Drop it," Wakko repeated, throwing the mallet over his shoulders. "I won't ask you again."

Seeing her brother play tug-of-war with a random employee was just as funny for Dot. She smiled as she approached the fallen man and crouched down next to him. "You should respect your elders, love," Dot sweetly said, "We were here before you learned how to walk."

"Or talk," Yakko added.

"Or breathe," Wakko said, "So if you wanna keep breathing, I suggest you drop it."

"It's my bag! A-and I'm your higher up!"

"Higher up?" Dot asked as she looked at his badge, seeing that he was nothing more than a measly security guard. She smirked, "You wanna talk higher up? I think we can do that." Dot grabbed the man by the jacket collar, cartoonishly smothered him into a ball in her hands, and threw him into the air. "Wakko, hit a home run!"

With the mallet positioned in his hand, Wakko let go of the red bag he was still holding and focused his attention on the human ball flying towards him. He swung hard, sending the man flying across the tower as he made contact with him. He could hear the man mutter a curse and a scream as he slammed onto the metal wall opposite where Wakko was standing. It was exhilarating. Wakko had almost forgotten how exciting inflicting pain was when he felt the rush of adrenaline flow through him. The sound of broken wood rained down onto the ground and on his fur from the mallet he had used. Either Wakko had gotten exceptionally strong over the years, or the mallet had gotten weak. As much as Wakko wanted to believe he got strong, he settled for the latter. He looked at the broken prop in his hand.

Dot reached for the bag, gathering all the fallen tools and quickly stuffed them back in before tossing them in the center of the water tower.

With the bag's contents spilled over the floor, the sweet taste of freedom was right in front of them. Granted, for the Warners, the idea of freedom wasn't new. They have been trying to figure it out for years. However, it wasn't until the introduction of the "toon-multivitamins" that Yakko felt their freedom become a priority.

The memories that flooded back weren't the memories Yakko wished to have, but they were ingrained in his mind whether he wanted them or not. Yakko remembered the first time Plotz administered the pills to them. The glimpse of his siblings restrained in holds before drooping across the floor, numb, and high was enough to make his blood boil. The fact that he couldn't have done anything about it-- as the eldest brother, it was always his responsibility to keep his siblings safe, but he failed. The second the Warner Brother Employees stormed in to force feed them the multi-vitamins Plotz told them about, Yakko failed.

The worst part wasn't the fact that they were drugged against their will. No, because if the drugs were enough to make them sleep, Yakko might have ended up liking it. What toon wishes to live 27 years in unbearable solitude? If he sleep through it all, he wouldn't have to deal with the experience, but no. The pill lied; they were conscious the entire time-- their senses heightened to the max.

Plotz figured that if they could keep the Warners calm and sedated, he wouldn't have to deal with them. But boy, was he wrong-- Yakko couldn't wait to prove it to him. Because if Plotz thought that heavy sedatives that "regulated" the zany worked, he had another thing coming. They all did.

The Warners paid no mind to Austin, who laid limp across the floor against the metal wall. They were more focused on the contents inside the bag. For a toon-proof tower, many things wouldn't work for them if they tried to escape. Cartoon gags weren't worth much; almost borderline pointless against the water tower walls. Rocket launchers and giant hammers were no match for reality. But the tools that stared back up at the Warners were tools that people used. Tools that could bend, break and snap just about anything they could set their mind on. The tools inside the bag would come in handy-- and Yakko had a plan. While he was drugged and sedated, his mind ran marathons. He knew that if they wanted their freedom to last, he had to make it last. And there was only one way he could think of that could guarantee them just that.

By removing Plotz, of course. He was the one that got them in this situation, to begin with. Yakko felt his fingertips go numb just by thinking about the things he could do to that man. Plotz deserved it all.

The three toons dug through the bag with unsettling excitement. Austin, in his semi-conscious state, found it off-putting how quick the Warners were to enter the manic episode they were currently experiencing. Yakko was almost desperately reaching inside the bag, sticking his hand in as far as he could to each pocket he came across. Wakko's tail was going ninety on the freeway while his eyes went wide with every tool he grabbed. And Dot, she went as fast as her little legs could carry her as she pulled out each object and gave them a test run. Austin didn't like what they were pulling out of his bag either. Some tools could cause a lot of harm if used the wrong way, and Austin had a feeling it was falling into the wrong hands. "Put that down," Austin croaked out from where he laid. He tried to pick his head up, but the pain in his neck made him see stars. "You guys! Don't touch it!"

The Warners were too high on excitement to listen.

"You want this one?" Dot asked her eldest brother, holding up a stick.

Yakko looked it over and felt his ear twitch, "I can make something with it, sure."

"Stop it, guys!" Austin tried to move his hand but with his shattered bones, there was nothing to move. He didn't realize he could experience numbness and crippling pain at the same time.

"Stop what?" Wakko teased as he held up a crowbar. "We aren't doing anything wrong."

"Yes, you are." Austin tried to move his head to look at the middle Warner sibling. "You three are breaking so many rules, you three wanted to get out of here so badly that you just made it worse for yourselves! Look at what you've done to me!" Austin sobbed in pain, realizing that he would never be himself after this. "You ruined me! But you ruined yourselves even more. You three are just as pathetic as me!"

Wakko felt his tail whip behind him. He didn't say anything as he dragged the crowbar along the metallic floors to approach him. "You aren't very nice, you know."

Austin looked at the toon with unfazed eyes. "You don't deserve to be nice towards. You three think that what you're doing is justified, but it's not! Fuck you and your demented siblings."

Wakko clenched his hands around the crowbar tighter as he listened to the words leave the man's mouth. "As a matter of fact, I have a better idea."

Austin looked at Wakko and felt his adrenaline spike as he watched the toon pull his arm back. He tried to stop Wakko from inflicting more pain onto him but it provided to be useless. The next thing Austin knew, a sharp pain began across his lower half. "Fuck! My hip! I think you broke my hip you fucking psycho!"

Yakko looked at the man and smiled, proud of his baby brother. "Keep talking, and I'll tell him to aim for your mouth next time."

"You three are fucking insane," Austin said as he tried to curl himself in with pain on the floor. "When I get out of here, I'll make sure you three never see the light of day."

"'When' is a pretty bold word to use. We can't let you leave," Yakko said with a fit of laughter. "You'll get out there and kiss Plotz ass. Run out of here and tell him about the little incident-- not that we did much to begin with. The way I see it, you're part of the problem."

Dot looked over at the bleeding man and smirked, holding up a baseball bat, "And my brother here is being generous. We all know that if you ever end up leaving the tower you probably won't be doing much of anything. I mean, look at you. We go any further and you'd be wishing you were dead. An easy problem to fix, nonetheless."

Yakko was glad that his siblings were all on the same page. He might not have been able to communicate his fantasy with his words, but he could speak through his eyes just as well. Knowing that both his siblings were open to the idea that currently ran through his mind brought him a boosted sense of confidence. "I like the way you think, sis."

It didn't take long for Austin to realize what the siblings had in mind. When he felt Wakko grab onto his wrist on his broken arm and pull him up, Austin screamed. His screaming echoed in the walls and rang loudly through their tower. Austin could see the siblings reached up to pull down their ears in an attempt to block the sound. Austin screamed louder, thinking that it would annoy them more and keep them away, but it wasn't long before Austin felt a foot kick his face.

"Shut up. No one can hear you," Yakko said as he stood before the man.

"At least try to harmonize it," Dot said, reaching down for a small baseball bat. She grabbed the flashlight Wakko left on the floor and shone it on Austin.

A rush overtook Wakko as he looked down at the bloody crowbar in his hands. Sure, he could have spent the next hour or so in an internal battle of morality over whether he liked the blood or the meaning behind it, but that would be a waste of an hour. He knew what he had to do.

Yakko felt the same way. There was something about inflicting pain on others that made his heart beat faster in joy. Revenge wasn't a new concept for him. He's toyed around with the idea a couple of times, even before they were thrown in, but if this is what it truly tasted like, then he'll take the entire stock. "You brought this upon yourself. We told you we didn't want it," Yakko said referring to the pills that were still scattered on the floor.

"But you insisted and insisted," Dot continued as she played with the baseball bat in her hand, "and insisted, and insisted."

"But, Plotz said that"--

Wakko didn't let Austin finish his sentence. He grabbed him by his bloodied jacket and slammed up against the wall with much more force than he intended to use. He heard something snap. "Oops, is your spine broken, Mr. Worker Man?"

Austin whimpered as he felt every part of his body radiate with intense pain. He tried to call out again, but they just came out as broken sobs and coughs.

"Aw, you still think someone is going to come looking for you?" Dot cooed as she stepped in front of him.

Yakko scoffed as he grabbed the small stick his sister gave him earlier, "Tape his mouth shut, sis. His crying is annoying."

Dot gave him a nod and stretched her arm out to reach into the red bag in the center of the water tower. She grabbed the duct tape and stretched it over the man's mouth. She could still hear the muffled screams, but they were now a bit more bearable. She had a bit of fun with the tape, covering his mouth and all the way around his head. She laughed as she went over it a few times before ripping the tape with her teeth.

"We're getting out of here, sibs," Yakko said as he shifted his attention back towards the red book bag.

Dot looked down at the man, "Oh, stop it, Yakko. You can't promise that again." She picked at a stray piece of wood that poked out of her bat, "They'll bring us right back. They always do."

Seeing his sister look so defeated only served to motivate him even more, "No. I can promise you this time." Yakko held out his pinky and linked it with his sisters, "We're never seeing the inside of this water tower ever again. I promise."

Wakko looked at his siblings, "Does this mean what I think it means?" He pointed towards the red bag and felt his eyes light up with joy.

"We can bring the studio down to their knees if we have to," Yakko said with a chuckle, "Besides, don't you have an appetite for destruction, Waks?"

Wakko gave his brother a determined smile before shifting his attention back on the mumbling man, "So, what do we do with him?"

"Let him be," Yakko said with a laugh, "We're going on the front page anyway."

Chapter Text

The Warners never asked to be locked up. They didn't choose to spend the better part of 27 years sitting in a drugged trance to be treated worse than the trash left outside. There were better things to do other than collect dust within the damp enclosure-- like slamming a crowbar into the metal walls within the tower, for example. 

It was a cathartic feeling. Wakko brought the crowbar down with as much force he could muster up and given he hasn't had a snack in a few decades, he was rather impressed with the dents he was leaving behind. The middle Warner sibling slammed and slammed, creating small figures of light that cascaded into the tower. Sure, he could have tried the door, but everyone knew that the thinnest metals resided within the walls.

Upon seeing the tiny shines of light, Dot and Yakko joined in the fun with their respective weapons. It felt so good to hit something that wasn't toon-proofed. They craved the release of stress and energy that they had stored up after all this time, and it was finally their chance. 

Dot looked over at the man, who now had a bit of natural light shining on his jacket and dark blue jeans. As she shined the flashlight on him, Dot could see the expanding stains of red on either end of his shirt. An unempathetic "aw" left her lips, for there was no empathy for someone who contributed to their pain.  Dot heard the man groan under the layers of duct tape that ran over his mouth and she smiled. She crouched down towards him, the smell of iron filling her nose. She reached down and ran her finger along a bloodstain that pooled around Austin's chest, "That's not going to come off easily," she said. "It makes for a good tie-dye, though."

Wakko listened to his sister's voice and turned his attention over to her. He stopped slamming, letting his eldest brother have a turn and walked towards them. "Is he, like, dead?"

Dot smirked as she grabbed a fistful of Austin's hair and lifted his head off from against the wall, "Nah, but, I mean, we could."

The idea was tempting. "Should we?" Wakko asked as he picked up his broken mallet and spun it in his hands. He stepped forward and reached for the flashlight, shining it on the fallen man's body. Wakko figured killing the man would do him good. The poor thing looked pathetic laying on the floor as he trembled and softly sobbed. Wakko smirked, thinking back to the previous conversation they had. Who's pathetic now?

Yakko stopped banging on the walls and caught his breath. He had overheard his sibling's conversations and as much as he wanted to end the man's life, he had bigger and better ideas down the line for them. "Nah let him suffer. He called us crazy, remember? Since he wants to know psychopaths, we can show him."

Dot let go of Autin's head, causing it to slam full-force back against the wall. She heard the man cry out in pain, causing her to giggle. If the man in front of her ended up dying inside the water tower, so be it. He wouldn't be the first body found nor would he be the last. Sure, it sounded morbid and ethically wrong when the idea was put into practice, but Dot couldn't care less. The second the studio fucked them over for a stupid anime show was the second Plotz lost the respect. Come to think of it, Plotz lost the respect a long time before that, too. Dot gestured for Wakko to shine the flashlight at his pocket, "Oh, so your name's Austin, huh?"

"That's a fun name," Yakko announced between each slam of the crowbar. "You'd be fun to add to the list."

"A list?" Austin asked, his voice so muffled it was hard to understand. It was weak and fragile, nonetheless. "You-- you have a list of people?" A part of Austin wished he never asked that question because he was terrified of the answer.

The only reply given to him was a smile. Yakko's mind churned with ideas and scenarios-- it was only a matter of time until they could cross off Plotz from the list too. Besides, what did Plotz expect to see from them? Sunshine and rainbows? The way Yakko sees it, Plotz should be grateful their previous escape plans failed. The eldest Warner examined the dents and cuts on the wall. He called his brother over and gestured towards one of the dashes on the metal. "That's big enough, I think. Use the crowbar."

"On this?" Wakko asked, running his gloved hand over the cut. He used the flashlight and shone it over the wall, getting a better look at the damage. However, as he scanned the wall, he stopped for a brief moment, catching a glimpse of his hand. When did he lose a finger--

"Hurry up," Yakko said, looking back at the man, who was still writhing in pain. "I want to see the look on his face."

Dot looked at Yakko, "But we have the flashlight."

"The flashlight isn't as cinematic, now is it?" Yakko shot back in his dramatic voice. Dot was glad to know that his theatre self was still there. 

The crowbar trespassed the metal easily. Wakko was a bit shocked at how smooth the metal hook slipped through. He stuck the end in and used the other side to push down, causing the flap to lift off. 

The two siblings dropped their tools and grabbed the end, helping their brother peel it off the wall. 

"Fuck," Yakko mumbled upon seeing the second layer of metal stare at him. 

"It's fine, we can break our way through, right?" Wakko asked, rubbing the back of his head. If he tried hard enough, Wakko was sure he could break it apart. 

Of course, they could. Yakko grabbed the sheet of metal and ripped it off the wall. He threw it down on the floor with a loud wave of noise as he reached for the small stick. 

Both his siblings watched Yakko work his magic. They could see Yakko work to assemble the project using his toon speed-- surprised that he still had it. Well, of course, he still had it. He was Yakko.

"What are you making?" Wakko asked, trying to figure out what his brother was doing behind the cloud of smoke. 

Yakko paid his siblings no mind. He was much more focused on getting his makeshift weapon together so he could get the party started. It wasn't every day the Warners made it this far. He folded, shifted, and manipulated the metal around the small wooden stick. Oh, the things Yakko had planned. If this had been different, Yakko could have found a reason to empathize with Plotz. But the CEO had no clue about the stress he put them through. Yakko and his siblings had to go through hell and back-- and for what? They didn't deserve this type of treatment; therefore, Plotz didn't deserve the respect. It's not like their show was ever coming back. Plotz established that a long time ago. But that shouldn't have given him the go-ahead to dispose of them the way he did. 

On the other hand: what did the Warners have to lose? They didn't have to die to experience hell, so what else could be worse? If Yakko wanted to cause mayhem on the lot, nothing was stopping him-- nothing was stopping them . What better way to go?

"That looks cool," Wakko said, observing his brother add on the finishing touches to his creation. "An ax?"

"A hatchet?" Dot asked. 

Yakko held it in his hands and shrugged, "Whatever it is, who gives a shit? It's slicing either way."

Dot and Wakko exchanged glances and grinned. They looked at the hole in their wall and nodded. 

Yakko twirled the ax in his hand. "They aren't going to hold us back any longer. I'm sick and tired of all their bull shit and lies. They wouldn't dare treat any other toon like this, so why did they think we'd be okay with it? "

Dot grabbed her bat and rested it over her shoulders, "Oh, you have that look in your eye that screams riot! I'm ready whenever you are."

And so the slamming began. Austin cringed as the loud noise filled the tower. He could have sworn he felt the tower sway with the sheer force each of the Warners were giving. He closed his eyes and wished he'd wake up from the dream already. Unfortunately for him, this was far from a dream-- this was his twisted reality. 

It wasn't long before the Warners made it through the metal barrier. Their laughter was manic and loud; Austin wasn't sure if they were laughing or crying-- or both. It was a small hole, big enough for each Warner to crawl out from and step onto the red balcony railings that circled the tank's circumference. The cool evening wind filled the Warners with serenity. It had been so long since they felt fresh air against their fur that for a brief moment, the Warners calmed down. Their laugher slowly died down as they breathed in the cool California air that surrounded them.

Yakko sighed, feeling his breath catch in his throat when they looked down towards the concrete. The Warners didn't realize they gathered quite the audience. 

Yakko hummed in thought, "Oh, so they could hear us in there. That's interesting, isn't it?" The eldest Warner stood quiet for a moment, leaning over the railings to get a closer look at those below them. He noticed the group consisted of security guards and part of the Warner Brothers support team, each with uneased glares of confusion. Yakko couldn't blame them. It's not every day you see three toons break their way out of a water tower. Especially not while they're holding an ax, bat, and a bloody crowbar. Yakko smiled, realizing how much he missed the attention. 

However, the smile quickly wiped off his face when he turned to look at his siblings. "So, sib's I"-- Yakko knew they weren't in the best conditions, but he wasn't expecting to see his siblings so broken. No toon ever wishes to see themselves in such a state. They were like forgotten sketchbooks and abandoned works in progress-- washed out and bleak, leaving only the ghost of an idea that they once were. 

Anger and frustration rose in Yakko's stomach as he took sight of his neglected siblings. Dot's black fur was washed out and faded. Her pink skirt was ripped along the folds, and her yellow flower was wrinkled and dry. Not only was Wakko fading, but there were parts of him that were completely erased. Yakko could see right through the gaping hole in the middle of his blue sweater. A part of Yakko knew he couldn't blame himself for the state his siblings were in, but the sensation of guilt was strong in his chest. He could have done better-- Yakko could have prevented it. How? He doesn't know, but he does know that he could blame the studio for it.

He was quick to blame Plotz. 

Wakko didn't know what to do with himself. Panic rose in his chest as he hesitantly looked down and stuck his hand through the hole within him. He could hear his heart race in his ears as he wiggled his fingers inside himself. So he wasn't hallucinating, he really did lose a finger-- all that was left was a faded outline.

"Talk about being transparent," Yakko joked, trying his best to keep his siblings distracted from their own mortality. As toon, that shouldn't be an issue one would worry about, but that right was taken from them too. By the look on his sibling's faces, he knew he wasn't in the best conditions either. He didn't want to look down at himself, but temptation was a bad bitch. 

There were gaps of his tail missing, and his topaz pants were now an ugly shade of brown. His arms were nothing but line sketches and smudged ink. "Oh," Yakko breathed.

"Yakko, Wakko, and Angelina Warner," A voice on a megaphone said from down below. "You three are prohibited from coming down. Stay right where you are, and we'll go up there to help."

The three siblings looked down at the lady holding the megaphone and gave her an innocent wave. She waved back. 

"Don't move from there, honey," She said in a sweet tone of voice. 

Yakko took a breath and regained his composer, raising a brow, "Nah, we don't feel like staying up here."

"Yeah, we want to see the CEO!" Wakko exclaimed in genuine excitement as he reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a small kiddie pool. Much like his brother, he didn't need the people thinking a little smudged ink was going to stop them. 

"No, No! Don't toss that down!" The lady said, holding her arms up. "Stay."

"Do we look like dogs to you?" Yakko asked as he gave his brother the go-ahead to drop the pool down to the floor. It magically filled with water on the way down.

The security lady looked at the pool and back up at the Warners, climbing over the edge. She needed to find a way to keep them up there. There was already quite a crowd around them; she didn't want to risk anyone getting hurt. 

The Warners threw themselves down in unison, splashing into the cold water below and emerging more alert than ever. Yakko stepped out of the pool and dried himself off with a dog-like shake. He could see the unease in the crowd's eyes as he stood before them. Yakko gestured towards his ax, "Oh, this little thing? Don't worry. She doesn't bite."

"I told you to stay up there." The lady said with a frown. 

Yakko rolled his eyes and took her in. She wore a tight uniform that accentuated her waist and a cap that shielded her eyes. "You aren't special."

The security lady stepped in front of him to block his path when Yakko attempted to push around her. "Hey, step back into the huddle. You know you aren't supposed to be out of the tower. It's not safe."

Wakko looked around at the growing crowd of people. "Not safe for them? or us?"

"If you don't want us near them, why don't you just tell them to leave?" Yakko turned towards his siblings and gestured for them to follow, "Come on sibs."

"What part are you not understanding?" The lady said as she stepped in front of them again. She had both her hands on her hips. "You're not supposed to be out of the Water Tower."

"And you're not supposed to leave pepper spray unattended," Yakko shot back as his sister reached out to grab the small black container. "Look's like we're both in a bit of a pickle, aren't we?"

The lady gasped in shock as she tried to grab it back. The movement suddenly stopped when Dot positioned her hand in front of the woman's face. "Plotz? Where is he?" Dot asked, threatening to spray her. 

"He won't be seeing you today," she replied sternly. 

"Oh, face to face with pepper spray, and you still choose to stand your ground." Yakko mockingly clapped his hands, "Gotta hand it to you, that's bold."

"Get inside the tower," she said, keeping her eyes on Dot. "Let's avoid a bad time."

"A bad time?" Wakko repeated as he stepped next to his sister. "Why don't you just step aside? We can see him ourselves."

"No."

Dot furrowed her brow, "Move."

The lady didn't budge. Instead, she quickly reached out and grabbed the two youngest Warners by their ears and snatched her pepper spray back with her free hand. They were covered in what appeared to be blood, she didn't need to take any chances with them. 

The lady could have done without the physical contact. Yakko looked at the outstretched arm and felt something spark inside him. Who the hell was she to tell them what to do? Yakko jumped over and used the end of his ax handle to hit the guard along her knuckles. He caught his siblings before they could hit the ground and stood between them, just like old times. Yakko could see the guard hold back a wince as more security approached. 

"Back up," the lady said, pointing the pepper spray towards Yakko. "I won't hesitate."

Yakko smirked as he looked at the guards that circled them. "Yeah, bring the whole squad over. I'm sure you'll need a hand."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Excuse me? Was that a threat?"

Dot and Wakko watched as their eldest brother confronted the guard. If they had seats, they'd be at the edge of it.

Yakko wasn't sure who this guard thought she was, thinking she could grab his siblings with no consequence. "We just want to talk to the CEO."

"And I told you he wasn't taking any visitors. So get back in the tower or so help me." The lady used her free hand to push Yakko back, which was a move she would soon regret. 

The second Yakko felt her hand against his chest-- he went for it. She had no right to put her hands on him or his siblings. And since she wanted to act all big and bold, Yakko would give her big and bold. It wasn't hard to knock her down a few pegs. Yakko quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her down. He saw Wakko snatch the pepper spray bottle out of her hand and bounce towards the rest of the officers. 

As Wakko sprayed the group, Yakko used it as an opportunity to do what he came here to do. 

"Let me go! Let me go you son of a"-- The cop's sentence never saw its ending. The woman felt the cold metal slam down onto her forearm as she tried to snatch her hand away. The events didn't register in time for her to realize that Yakko slammed his ax down. Hard. 

The eldest Warner felt the woman's arm break a satisfying crunch. The sight of a broken limb shouldn't have brought him that much joy, but it did. The feeling surged through his faded ink as Yakko swung down again, hearing the sound of broken flesh falling towards the concrete. "See, I told you you'd need a hand."

The lady looked down in a brief state of shock. She could feel her scream rise from her stomach and up her throat before it left her mouth with writhing pain. The sound of her pain-stricken voice sent the crowd wild. 

Yakko was just as surprised-- well, no, not really, but it all happened so fast that he didn't realize what he had done until he had done it. There wasn't any remorse or regret for his actions. She was holding him back, preventing him from doing what he had to do. She had it coming. And he liked it. 

With the crowd around them running in all different directions, the Warners could feel their senses heighten. It made their ears begin to twitch and tails whip back and forth. 

Dot gripped her baseball bat and scanned her surroundings. She wasn't exactly sure what to do but seeing Yakko go feral for a brief second inspired her to do the same. Everyone on the lot deserved it. The Warners were created to cause chaos on the lot. So it's not like they were doing anything out of the ordinary. Dot held the bat above her head as she ran towards the group of police around her. She laughed, watching them flinch and move out of her way.

Wakko twirled his crowbar between his fingers and looked down at the shrieking lady in front of him. He smiled softly at her, watching her teammates come to her aid. Wakko couldn't help but approach them, however, he didn't make it very far.

The surrounding officers got between the Wakko and the pain-struck lady. Wakko took a step back, causing him to bump into his brother, who he didn't realize was behind him. They exchanged glances and smiled. The two brothers could hear many different voices at once, telling them to back up and drop their weapons. Everything was happening so fast, yet so slow. They didn't react at the sound of police sirens nor towards the plethora of security guards yelling in their faces. Wakko brought the crowbar up over his head and quickly brought it down, but it wasn't until one of the guards approached the two boys from behind to restrain them in a tight hug did the Warners snap. 

"Hey, get off of me!" Wakko shouted as he contorted his body every which way. He tossed the crowbar into his mouth and swallowed it, allowing his hands to be free from anything. He grabbed onto the man's forearm and dug his claws deep into his flesh, but the man refused to let go. He could hear the security guard let loose a train of profanities, but his grip remained the same. 

Yakko didn't let go of his ax, even when a second man approached him to take it. He held onto his makeshift ax as if his life depended on it-- which it did-- and tried to snatch it back. Seeing his brother use his claws, he decided to try a similar route. He couldn't eat his ax, but to save himself the trouble, Yakko bit down on the guard's hand closest to his face. He buried his fangs down as hard as he could, tasting the metallic taste on his tongue. 

The guard shoved his hand deeper into his mouth before forcefully pulling it out. He was about to adjust his grip when he felt his legs give out from under him. It sent the guard falling on his ass with both Warner brothers landing awkwardly on top of him. 

Yakko looked over to see his sister standing behind them with her bat at hand. He could have sworn he saw a red tint in her eyes as she looked down at the fallen man. Dot was breathing heavily with her brows furrowed in anger. 

"Touch my brothers again, you little shithead, and you'll end up worse than miss no-hand over here." Dot held the baseball bat out towards the guard that began to approach her, "You wanna test me!? Try me, Bitch!"

Wakko stumbled up and regained his balance. He made sure to step on all the life-altering parts of the guard's body as he hopped down towards the concrete. He picked up the crowbar he dropped during the fall and looked at the police. He gave his sister a wink before using his tail to bounce between the officers, laughing at each failed attempt to catch him. All the dirty work wasn't going to fall on his sister's shoulders, especially when he was the toon designed for destruction. Utilizing his toon skills, Wakko shrunk himself down as small as he could and weaved his way through the feet. He had to get a new weapon of choice. A crowbar could only get him so far. Besides, he knew the studio had what he was looking for somewhere. It shouldn't be that hard to find it. 

He kicked open one of the backdoors to a studio building and ran into the supply closet. Wakko dug through the stash of items before he laid his eyes on his prized possession. "Property of Daffy Duck," Wakko read out loud as he picked up the chainsaw from the floor. He groaned, tossing it to the side. That was useless. Remember, toon-proofed items don't cause any real harm. 

And Wakko wasn't here to make a scene-- he was here to start a riot.

When he found what he was looking for, Wakko smiled. The rusted chainsaw sat resting against one of the back walls. If a cartoon spotlight were to shine into the closet, now would be the time. It was as if it was waiting for Wakko to find it. He stretched his arms out and picked up the machine with a bright smile on his face, thinking of all the things he could do with it. Wakko made it back to his siblings at just the right time. He could see his siblings stand their ground against the police officers, but a little help wouldn't hurt. 

Yakko smiled as she saw Wakko appear beside him. He had no idea where he had gone off to, but Yakko was glad he was back. With both of his siblings present, he felt so much more in control. 

The cops huddled around them, talking over each other and barricading them in. Yakko had no idea what any of them were saying. People were crying and screaming around them that nothing that came out of the police's mouth made sense. Yakko couldn't wait to shut them all up. It was overwhelming seeing so many faces at once. 

Wakko seemed to be riding the same brain wave as he covered his ears and screamed for the people to shut up. However, the sound of his agitated voice made the cops reach towards their holsters. 

"Oh no, pull the gun on us," Yakko mocked as he extended his arm to protect Wakko from the man, "seems to be the only thing cops know how to do these days."

And pull their guns the cops did. As the men surrounding them extended their arms to aim, Wakko took it as an opportunity to show off his new toy. He grabbed one of the cop's hands, pulling it down to cause the man to topple forwards.  

That was when Wakko swiftly reached into his hammerspace and pulled out the rusted orange chainsaw, placing it directly in front of the cop's face as he revved it up. 

It was fitting. Yakko knew his brother was a loud toon; a noisy machine was just the thing Wakko needed. The loud sound of the tool revving up caused the cops to disperse from their huddle. Not only were the law enforcement officers backing away, but other people around the lot were screaming. People that weren't there before. Yakko figured they were just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but it didn't matter. They worked for a shitty studio. If they end up on the wrong side, then they probably deserved it. 

"So now you guys wanna run?" Wakko called out as he positioned himself for the chase. 

Oh, come on," Dot said over the noise as she tapped her baseball bat down on the concrete, "You're telling me you all can't handle a fun little game of tag?!"

"You three have broken multiple violations, and you left us no choice!" said one of the studio's guards from a distance. Much like the Warners, their uniform was covered in blood-- probably from their injured coworkers. "Drop the weapons! This whole thing doesn't have to go so far!"

"We had a choice ?" Yakko said with a laugh, "Since when? Because I don't think you understand the bullshit this studio dragged us through!" Yakko held his ax over his shoulders, "But I think you and your friends here wanna find out, don't they?"

The guard held his hand up before quickly retracting it back. He didn't need it to end up on the floor like his colleagues. There was already enough chaos in the lot as it was. Adding another injured to the list wasn't part of his evening routine. "You three have caused enough damage for the next decade. We've been down this path before-- get back inside, and nothing happens."

Wakko lowered the chainsaw, "You think locking us up is doing to make a difference?!"

"It's just going to postpone the inevitable!" Dot clarified. "So why don't we rip the bandaid off now?" 

"This could have been avoided, you know," Yakko said as he waved his ax around teasingly in front of the officer's face. "But since you want to cause us trouble, you all can get it!" Yakko brought his ax up and swung it down on the officer's shoulders. He laughed as he saw officers run towards him and continued to swing his ax and bounce around them. Dodging humans was easy. They were always so predictable. 

The two younger siblings worked together. As the crowd moved back and forth, she snuck down under and used her bat to knock people over. Wakko would then step in to finish the job. "Teamwork sure does make the dream work," Dot said as she stood back to back with her brother. "And look, we gave the studio a fresh new coat of paint."

Wakko nodded, looking down at the concrete, "I knew red was a fitting color."

Dot giggled as she observed the crowd disperse and run from them. She could see Yakko standing over a body with a smile on his face. He caught her gaze and gave her a wink. Now that the cops were running towards their fallen comrades and not towards them, it was time to flip the tables around. The Warners didn't hesitate to start the chase. The three of them bounced off the walls and swung on the lamp posts as they made their way around the studio. It felt just like old times, only better.

Dot was about to climb onto one of the golf carts when she felt someone grab her tail and pull her back, separating her from her brothers. 

"Where do you think you're going?" an older woman asked as she lifted Dot by her tail. "You think you three are getting away with this? Look at the lot!"

Dot flipped herself up and dug her claws into the woman's flabby arms. "I know! Isn't it beautiful?" Dot had no idea who this woman was. She obviously wasn't any sort of law enforcement officer, so she had to have been one of the pedestrians that just so happened to appear.

The pain caused the woman to throw Dot against the walls of the building. It wasn't exactly in an alleyway, but the buildings were cornered in and there wasn't a way out without jumping over things.

Dot looked up at the lady that hovered over her and let her arms go loose. She adjusted herself every which way, contorting her limbs to stretch, bend, and hang in unnatural positions. She smiled at the woman's horrified face, "Geez, you put me in an awkward position here. Why don't we do something to fix that?" Using her free arm, Dot abruptly hugged the older woman before swiftly switching positions with her. Dot heard the lady slam against the concrete wall with force. 

The woman felt pain shoot up her neck as she grabbed her purse and swung it out in front of her. "You heathen! You rat!"

Dot wasn't going to deal with the older woman for more than she had to. She was just a minor distraction, besides, it's not like she was much of a threat. The woman was probably thinking she could do her part to help out the studio. Dot almost felt sorry for her, for thinking she could save the day. She raised the bat, preparing to bash the woman's head in when something shiny caught her attention. She didn't realize she was near the outskirts of the lot where the wired-gated fences surrounded the parameter. "Oh, would you look at that? I see something that's going to make this easier for the both of us!"

The older woman didn't understand what Dot was talking about at first. It didn't click in her brain until she eyed what Dot was eyeing. "Stop it! Wait!"

Dot didn't listen. Seeing the woman attempt to run away caused Dot to use her outstretched arm to lock her in place. As if her wooden bat was a fork and the barbed wires spaghetti, she began to twirl the bat around, collecting as much sharp metal as she could. Dot beamed as she pulled the bat back towards her, snapping the excess wires off. 

"You're sick! Demented, you know that!?" The older woman cried out.

"I prefer insane, but that works too."

"Crazy is what you and your siblings are! No wonder they locked you up! I knew there was a reason-- I just knew it"--

Dot swung down on the top of her head before she had the chance to finish the sentence.

The woman screamed in pain as she brought her hands up to shield her head. She felt every metal point enter her scalp and drag down. 

"Please, continue," Dot said in a low voice as she prepared for another blow, "Keep telling me how crazy we are!"

There was no other response other than shrieks of pain. Dot brought down her newly decorated bat down on the woman's hands. "Oh," she said as she brought the bloody bat back up, "So now you have nothing to say!?"

Back at the center of the studio, Wakko's ears perked up at the sound of his sister's voice. She was nearby, he thought, but he couldn't quite see her. 

"Focus here, little man," a man said. "This isn't so bad, right?"

With his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, Wakko smiled. He was in front of three cops, each with their hands hovering over their weapons. He wasn't too concerned about the guns; Wakko just wanted to get this over with so he could see why his sister was yelling. It sounded a lot more entertaining. 

The cops looked down at the toon and hesitantly stepped towards him. They were well aware that Wakko could smell the fear radiating off them, but they kept their calm composure. Even though the toon didn't look to be engaging in any harm, Wakko still had the running chainsaw in his hand. "You don't have to put it down, kid," one of the cops said as he gestured towards the horizon, "You can take it back with you." The man could feel his coworkers give him confused stares. "We just want to make this easy on all of us, you know? So, keep it, but you gotta go back."

Wakko looked down at his chainsaw and wagged his tail in excitement, "I can keep it!?"

"Sure," the cop repeated, "but you gotta keep walking."

So he did. Wakko began making his way back towards the water tower, looking behind him for the men to follow.

"Don't worry, kid," the officer said, raising both his hands to prove he's harmless. "We're right behind you. Just try not to cut me in half," the cop joked nervously. 

"Mr. Policeman," Wakko began as he chuckled alongside him and flicked his wrist, "You know I can't make promises I can't keep!" 

The cop stopped walking, "You can't do what now?"

Without any hesitation, Wakko stopped walking and zipped his way back towards the cops, revving the chainsaw and slicing them in half in a single motion, just like the cop requested. He smiled and ran around the fallen officers with his tongue dangling in the wind. Hearing the three men scream and writhe in pain, Wakko revved his chainsaw even louder and dragged it along the ground, causing the concrete to chip and crack beneath him. The sight of torsos disconnected from their legs was an interesting sight. It was almost like watching insects wiggle after being stepped on.

Without a second thought, Wakko made his way back and ran over the men on the ground, chainsaw still dragging along the concrete. He could feel the chainsaw bounce up and down as he hopped over each of the broken bodies on the ground, listening to the sound of reintroduced pain. He didn't look back to assess the damage; instead, he kept moving forward in the direction of his siblings. They'd meet their fate eventually. 

Wakko could see his sister running around the lot amidst her own little chase. She was after a few Warner Brother employees when he caught up to her. There were still people running around them, screaming and crying out of fear. Knowing that he was the cause of their emotions made him feel powerful-- an emotion he's never experienced before. 

Dot stopped dead in her tracks when something caught her attention. When she stopped moving, everything around them froze. 

"What?" Wakko asked, joining his sister's gaze. 

Standing at the top of the flat movie studio roof was their eldest brother. Yakko looked down at something his siblings couldn't see, smiling and using his ax to point towards it. 

"Oh, wanna see what he's looking at?" Wakko asked as he curled his tail, preparing to bounce up the building. 

Dot looked over at Wakko and smiled, "Duh."

Yakko slightly jumped in surprise as he heard his siblings approach from behind him. He knew they were coming, but he didn't expect them to show up that quickly. He glanced over towards them for a brief second before gesturing down towards the ground. "Siblings, guess who I found."

The two younger Warners looked down at the familiar figure.

There Ralph stood, in the center of the Warner Brothers lot. There was a confused look in his eyes as he gripped onto the net. His signature net has saved the lot time and time again, but this time, he appeared to be a bit too late for that. 

For Ralph could feel his hands tremble as he tried to flex the shakes away. He didn't want to be here-- he wanted to go home. He had a wife and son waiting for him to get back by dinner. 

Why did he even agree to show up?

His heartbeat was loud in his ears. Maybe it was the unsettling amount of unmoving bodies on the ground or the splatters of blood that trickled down the lot's sidewalk. Or maybe, it was the fact that he knew he could very well not go home tonight. But the studio had called in a Code R, and Plotz called him personally. He sounded calm on the phone, despite the code, so he wasn't expecting to walk into the horrific chaos he walked in on. A part of him hoped this was a part of a Halloween horror film, but as he scanned the scene, it became clear that that wasn't the case. 

A Code R. Toons gone Rogue. 

Ralph slowly walked around the lot, avoiding any eye contact with the gore before him. He didn't know what could have happened to cause a toon to rebel in such a way. He wasn't aware they had any toons capable of such destruction in such a short amount of time. 

He only clocked out two hours ago.

Ralph felt a hand on his shoulders that caused him to jump. He quickly turned towards the person that grabbed him, relieved to see that it was only his coworker. There was blood all over her hands and sweater. She was in tears, and Ralph didn't know what to do. 

"They got out!" She sobbed as she looked down at her hands, "The Warners, they got out!"

As she ran off into the lot, Ralph let those words sink in. 

The Warners.

They got out. 

Fuck.

That explains why Plotz wanted him to come in specifically. He was the only known guard on the lot that had the most experience with the three siblings. It made sense. But, how did they even get out of the tower? Last Ralph checked-- it was steel. The security guard looked up at the tower and noticed the missing metal and dented walls. He could have sworn they were sedated. That's what Plotz told the team. And how could he forget? Those three toons were the bane of his existence for the better part of five years-- drugging and sedating them was worth the celebration. 

Holding his breath, Ralph slowly continued to make his way down the lot. With the water tower destroyed, Ralph didn't know what he was supposed to do with the Warners once he caught them. There was nowhere for them to go. He was halfway down one of the alleyways when he heard a voice that made his blood run cold.  

"Did we do something wrong?" Yakko asked. His voice flooded Ralph's ears. 

"What did yous three do?" Ralph asked as he used the net in his hand as a shield. 

The three Warners were quick to raise their hands. Their I-know and pick-me were much louder than Ralph remembered them being.

"Wait, what was the question?" Wakko asked as he used his tail to bounce. He laughed, seeing Ralph's face morph into a frightening confusion. 

Ralph looked over and pointed to the various cop cars, ambulances, and paramedics that ran across the scene. "How'd that happen?!"

Yakko looked back at what Ralph was pointing to and shrugged. The shades of red and burgundy looked almost majestic in the California sunset. The smile on his face was almost too innocent for Ralph's liking, Yakko could tell. "Oh, them? They were just collateral."

"We didn't mean to!" Dot playfully said as she hid her spiked bat behind her back, "They just got in the way!"

"Of what?" Ralph asked. 

"Plotz!" The Warners said in unison. 

Yakko stepped closer towards the guard, "Speaking of Plotz, he sent you, didn't he?" He swung the ax casually by his feet as he stared up at Ralph. "Was he too much of a coward to face us himself, huh?"

Ralph gave no reply. Instead, he positioned the net over his shoulders in an attempt to swing it down. 

Dot and Wakko rolled their eyes as the two of them watched their eldest brother. 

Yakko hummed as he twirled the ax in his hand, "Well, since Plotz wants to send his minions down to take up our time, I wouldn't mind starting with you first!"

The three siblings darted away, leaving Ralph in a cloud of dust. His actions came naturally to him as Ralph found himself chasing after them, almost as if it had been ingrained in his brain.

He dodged his injured coworkers and hopped over the countless dead bodies scattered around the studio. He couldn't bring himself to look at them directly-- he couldn't. So he opted to focus on the cloud of dust in front of him. It was the classic chase scene. Ralph could almost hear the Animaniacs instrumental play in his ears, which was a comforting feeling when running through a massacre. 

Everything was going as planned. The Warners ran, and Ralph chased after them. But things began going off-script when the Warners decided to split up. Ralph saw Yakko turn left and Wakko right, but because it happened so fast, all he could do was continue to chase the youngest Warner. And boy, was she fast. Ralph swung his net down again and again in failed attempts. 

Ralph had chased Dot down two studio buildings when Yakko jumped down in front of him with the swing of his ax. The sudden movement set Ralph running in the opposite direction out of instinct. He didn't want to have a gaping wound any time soon. But as soon as Ralph thought he was safe to turn, Wakko jumped out in front of him, revving his chainsaw loud and dashing towards him. It sent Ralph running towards a secluded area of the Warner Studio lot with a fearful cry. 

The sound of the chainsaw getting closer and closer caused him to run faster-- he didn't even know he could run that fast. He could see all three Warners following after him as he looked back.  How the hell did they do that? Ralph thought as he continued to run down the alleyway. The only thing that stopped him was the brick wall of the building. He felt the wooden net jam deep into his skin as he slammed into the brick wall. Ralph quickly turned around, leaning into the wall as he held the net out in front of him. He shut his eyes tight, but Ralph could see the Warners shadows block out the sunlight that hit his face. 

"Oh, how the turn tables," Wakko said as he held his chainsaw close to the fat man. 

"Duh," Ralph said as he kept the net out as a shield, "That's not how that saying goes."

Yakko smiled down at the crouched security guard. Ralph was trembling so bad that it looked like he wanted to phase into the wall behind him. 

"Stay back! I got, I gots the net!" Ralph warned. He made a weak attempt to swing it down, but Yakko grabbed it before it could make contact with any of them. 

"No, Ralphy, you had the net."

Dot swatted Ralph's hand away when she saw him try to reach out for it. "Hey, don't do that! You can't have it back!"

"But that's my"--

Dot cut him off. "We both know how this is going to end up, so we'll be nice and give you a nice ten-second head start." 

A ten-second head start for what? Did she want him to run?

"Nine."

Ralph knew he should have stayed home tonight. He could have been enjoying his wife's delicious cooking, but no. He found himself face to face with homicidal Warners. 

"Eight."

He knew he couldn't just sit here forever-- he had to get up. He had to run because who knows what the Warners were planning to do with him?

"Seven."

Ralph slowly began to make his way up, not taking his eyes off the counting Warner sister. 

"Six."

But for some reason, his legs wouldn't move. He couldn't bring himself to start running away. It was almost as if his feet had been glued onto the floor.

Yakko was beginning to get impatient. "Five-four-three-two-one," he said quickly, slamming the ax down beside Ralph's face. "Now run."

And run he did, as fast as his legs could carry him. Ralph zig-zagged his way through the buildings in hopes that he'd lose the Warners behind him. He was going to be honest with himself-- Ralph had no idea how he ended up in this situation. Chasing the Warners was his job, not the other way around. And the chase ended just as quickly as it started when Ralph tripped over his own feet. It prompted Yakko to pull him back, dust him off, and let him continue running for a bit longer. Or, at least until he got bored, which was pretty quickly. 

With a swing motion, Yakko brought the net down on top of Ralph and scooped him up. He smiled, watching the guard try to kick and punch his way out. "Aw, that doesn't feel so good, does it?" Yakko asked.

"Guys!" Ralph said with panic in his voice, "I don't like where this is going."

Yakko scoffed, gripping the top of the net to seal Ralph inside. "Yeah, we didn't like where it was going either." He lifted the next and threw him behind his back with ease. 

He looked over at his siblings and readjusted his grip on his ax. Yakko guided his siblings back towards the water tower. They walked calmly, an innocent smile on their faces as if it were just another day in the lot. The people surrounding them stood there, motionless. Afraid that any sudden movement would trigger some reaction out of them. The Warners couldn't blame them-- it probably would have. 

There were a few guards who attempted to stop them from walking any further. However, after a bit of reasoning, Wakko was able to take care of them. Besides, they were heading towards the tower... isn't that what the people wanted? 

Ralph didn't think seeing his coworkers get sawed in half by a 12-year-old toon was a sight he'd pay to see. But if he could pay to have it erased out of his mind, he'd be the first to open his wallet. Ralph tried to struggle and push himself away from Yakko, but the net only stretched and bent, showing no signs of breaking. 

"Are we going inside?" Ralph asked as he looked up at the broken water tower. "I don't want to go up there."

"Welcome to the club," Yakko replied. He didn't give the security guard any chance to retaliate as he set the net on top of a small rocket Wakko pulled out from his hammerspace. 

The three Warners all hopped on behind him. Wakko lit a small match and used it to start up the rocket. 

Yakko listened to the soft please that came from Ralph, but just as Ralph once did, Yakko ignored him. Ralph could afford to experience the anguish that came with getting thrown into the tower for a change. 

Dot hopped off the rocket first when they reached the stop. She slid inside the gaping hole her brother created on the side of the water tower and poked her head out. 

Yakko gave her one end of the net for her to pull inside while he and his brother pushed him in. Ralph was a pretty big guard; fitting him through the small hole was a challenge. 

Ralph felt a giant cut form along his forearm as the metal scraped him. He screamed as he gripped his bleeding arm. "Wait! My arm!"

Yakko looked at the guard and smiled. He continued to push him in and rolled him onto the cold metal floor. 

There was a strong smell that hit Ralph's nose. He looked around to find the source of the stench, and he felt his stomach drop when he caught sight of it. 

"Oh, he's been there for a while now. I'm sure he's gone by now," Dot said, gesturing towards Austin.

"Gone?" Ralph repeated as he suppressed a gag. The smell was rancid; having it mixed in with the damp aroma of the water tower wasn't doing the cadaver any favors. 

"Where's Plotz?" Yakko asked, crouching down towards the captured guard.

"I'm not telling you."

"I'm giving you a chance-- where is he?"

"I won't tell you!"

"You're just as much of a coward as he is," Yakko said as he lifted his ax over his head, "Tell me where to find him, or so help me!"

Ralph looked up at the eldest Warner and shut his eyes tight. He couldn't tell the Warners where he was; Plotz told him not to. "No!"

Yakko lowered the ax, giving the guard a false sense of relief before he swung the ax down on Ralph's knees, causing the guard to scream in agony. 

"I'm just doing my job!" Ralph cried out as he tried to reach for his knees through the ropes of the net. 

"Oh, your job? Just like how it was your job to lock us in?" 

"That was a team decision!" Ralph sobbed as he felt his knee burn. "I just did my job!"

"Admit it," Yakko said as he swung his ax down on the same knee. "You wanted to see us gone just as badly, didn't you?"

"My job!"

"Fuck your job, Ralph." Yakko grabbed the net and pushed it against one of the metal walls, "We're going to make sure you never chase any toon again. You and the team!"

Dot fixed her shriveled up flower as she sighed. "You know, Ralphy, there's still time. I know we could easily stop this if you just cooperate. I can tell my brothers to stop if you just answer the damn questions." She picked up the net and dangled ralph above the floor, the sound of his dripping blood splashing beneath him. "But if you don't, then, my brothers and I would have no choice."

Setting his chainsaw to the side, Wakko grabbed his crowbar from his hammerspace. He approached the bleeding security guard with a sinister smile stretched across his face with his tongue hanging out from the side. Wakko jammed the crowbar in the guard's wounded knee and hooked it to the bone, pulling down to hear a loud snap. "So go ahead, start talking." 

Dot grabbed her bat and rolled her eyes when she heard Ralph start shrieking, "You don't have to get so loud over this. It's just a broken knee. That guy over there has it worse."

"The guy over there is also dead," Wakko added, jamming his crowbar into the other freshly wounded knee. He laughed watching Ralph writhe in pain.  

"Don't worry, we can help with that too," Dot said before slamming her bat down at the nape of the guard's neck. She smiled as she saw Plotz's head fall to the side. "It's such a shame that we had to do this to ya, Ralph. We'll miss you."

"Not!" The Warners said in unison as they reached for their respective weapons. The three Warner siblings didn't hold back. They all felt a surge of energy and adrenaline course through them as they went to town on Ralph. It was a high that the Warners desperately craved. They had two decades of energy they needed to release one way or another. And taking some of it out on their beloved security guard felt so good. 

It wasn't long before the guard ceased to exist. Ralph was just a pile of chopped meat and torn-up uniform sitting inside the net by the time the Warners were through with him. Yakko was surprised that the net held up. There wasn't one tear anywhere on it. 

Yakko panted as he looked down at what was once Ralph. Much like all the other occurrences, he wasn't expecting to have it go this far. But he wasn't complaining-- he liked it.

Ralph had it coming. They all have it coming. 

Wiping the blood off the blade with his faded pants, Yakko looked out towards the opening and saw the orange hue of the sky. He could still hear the commotion that came from the ambulances and police outside. He looked down at himself and smiled. Yakko was covered in fresh blood and bits of what he thought to be shredded flesh.  

They weren't going to like it. 

There was the sound of beeping and static that they didn't hear before, coming from the pile of flesh. Wakko raised a brow and reached down into it, digging around the chopped meat until he found a small walkie-talkie. 

It was broken and dented, but it still picked up sounds. The static sounded broken; distorted voices could be heard from the other end. 

"The radio sounds strange," Dot said as she reached out to take the radio from her brother's hands. It dripped in blood, and Dot could see wires poking through the small speakers. "Not that I was expecting anything different. Any radio sounds like shit after being drowned in blood." She hummed in thought before saying, "You think we should let them know he's here?"

Yakko smiled, seeing his sister toss the radio into the dark and gesturing towards the scrambled body on the floor. "I like the way you think, sister sibling."

"Well, you know, we aren't monsters," Dot replied as she helped her brothers lift the net. 

Wakko stepped out of the water tower first and looked down at the crowd. There were much more people now than there were before. Wakko had no idea where they all came from-- he could have sworn he's killed at least ten. He sent them a fun little wave and ignored the officer's request to stand down. Whatever that meant. How was Wakko supposed to stand down when he was standing up? Standing upside down? Wakko looked back at his siblings. Yakko and Dot were trying to pull the flesh-filled net through the opening, but it was too fat to fit. 

"If it could come inside the tower, you'd think it'd be able to come out too. Maybe it's just too thick for it to fit," Dot said as she pushed against the wet net, feeling blood drip all over her. "Stick it in."

"Goodnight, everybody!" Yakko smiled as he shifted his attention to the plethora of law enforcement officers below. Managing to shove Ralph out of the tower, Yakko waved down and shouted, "You guys wanna see Ralph? Here, Look at him!" He grabbed the net and tied it around the railings. The three of them pushed him over the edge, sending the net dangling twenty feet up in the air. The sight sent the crowd below into a panicked frenzy. Officers were running back, and others screamed in horror. The Warners couldn't blame them. Seeing Ralph end up in his own net, chopped into pieces with organs hanging and swaying in the air was a bit gruesome, but he had a fitting ending, didn't he? 

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot calmly appeared in the crowd, standing next to an unknowing officer. They watched the blood drip and splatter down onto the concrete below.

"One down," Yakko said as he looked over towards the deceased security guard. "Three to go."

Chapter Text

Plotz punched in a sequence of numbers with his stubby fingers on the phone and held the receiver up to his ears. His leg bounced under the table as he listened to the dial tone and ringer. Someone had to pick up the phone- everyone couldn't have their hands busy. There had to be someone willing to answer-- with the lot under unpleasant circumstances, there had to be someone hiding in an office somewhere.

But no one did. Plotz had failed to realize that even if there was someone in a room or office, picking up the phone could be risky. Especially if they didn't know where the Warners were. All Plotz could hear was the automated voice mailbox and the beep to leave the message. He threw the phone back down on the receiver more aggressively than he intended, knowing that a voice message wasn't going to help.

A scream from outside caused the CEO to jump in his chair. Plotz rubbed his face and pulled his hands down, stretching his skin in worry. That entire evening had been hell for him, he was neck-deep in contracts and scripts that everything was starting to become a big blur. By the time Plotz had a chance to settle down and take time for himself, the Warners decided to make their big debut. Plotz didn't dare look outside, he had seen the Warners break through the metal and appear into the spotlight with blood-covered gloves. It wasn't that Plotz was scared of the Warners, but he was a bit terrified. They had locked the kids up for a reason.

Feeling his hands tremble, Plotz reached under his desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He could hear the commotion going on outside, but he refrained from peeking through his window. He was already 5 stories in the air; if he could hear the screams from his office, then he didn't want to risk being seen.

Especially not by the Warners.

Plotz stared at the phone, mentally flipping through all his options. Plotz had tried to radio Ralph hours ago, but he wasn't picking up. Austin was presumably dead. Aside from the brief phone call earlier, there was no other word from either of them.

Plotz found comfort with each sip of alcohol he took. Ralph was probably just busy chasing the Warners down. He was a good guard, and Ralph knew how to do his job. There wasn't any cause for worry; Plotz wasn't concerned. Ralph would call in a few minutes. But the few minutes turned into a few hours, and the screaming from outside didn't cease. During that time, Plotz called every law enforcer he could think of, but he didn't call for much. The world didn't have to know his studio was under attack by three zany puppy children.

That'll look pathetic in the media.

Plotz wasn't sure what had gone wrong. The Warners weren't supposed to be out and about. He gave Austin specific instructions to administer the next dose of medication- but-- oh. Austin was new. Austin wouldn't have known that specific guidelines and procedures came into play when dealing with the Warners- especially when it came to their medications.

Plotz pulled the hair on the side of his face in frustration. The Warners weren't on their medication, and Scratchnsniff warned him about this.

What did he get Ralph into? Ralph was slow on a regular day, but Plotz had just sent him into battle with no bullets. He wasn't going to make it out alive. But then again, what else could Plotz have done? Ralph was the only one stupid enough to put himself in harm's way for the Warners slapstick antics. But as Plotz looked over at his closed blinds and listened to the blood-curdling screams from below, he was sure Ralph wasn't going to make it back.

Plotz was on his fourth glass of scotch- which was a sign for him to figure something out quickly. He wasn't looking to be drunk when it came to dealing with the Warners, more than he already was. They were ruthless. He set his bottle back under his desk and rubbed his eyes. He was already feeling a bit intoxicated, so he opted for a bottle of water instead. The anxiety and fear were still present and they showed no signs of leaving soon.

"Plotz!" He heard a woman yell as she ran down the hall. Plotz listened to the sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the office. It wasn't much of a comforting sound, but he recognized the footsteps.

"Plotz!" The nurse repeated as she threw the door open and went straight for his window. She felt Plotz grab onto her forearm in an attempt to push her back, but she shook him off. "Stop touching me!"

"Get away from that window!"

"What are you fucking talking about?!" The nurse's voice was frantic, vibrating on the verge of tears. "They got to him, Plotz!"

"Got who, Heloise?" Plotz repeated as he watched her throw the blinds up. He regretted the question that came out of his mouth because he was sure he knew the answer already.

Heloise took in a shaky gasp as she brought her hand to her mouth. She heard about what the Warners had done, but she wasn't expecting it to be so gruesome. Inspecting the scene below her, Heloise felt tears well up in her eyes. "No," she whispered with tears running down her face. "No, no, no, no, no!" She grabbed one of Plotz paperweights and threw it at the window, causing it to crack. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, it made her sick to her stomach. "Plotz, how could you have let that happen!" she sobbed. "They can't get away with what they did!"

Plotz didn't know how to comfort her. She was a wreck, and he had no clue what to do. How was he supposed to solve the situation? Sure, he was the CEO, but he cheated his way through so much that he had nothing to work upon. He averted his gaze away from the window, not wanting to see anything out there.

"You have to go," Heloise said, patting herself down as if she had lost something. "You can get them to listen. They always listen to you, right!?"

"Are you trying to kill me?!" Plotz refuted as he wiped the sweat off his brow. "I've been told by the cops that they're looking for me! If that's how they treat others, imagine what they'll do to me!"

"But you're their boss!" Heloise argued back, "You can't just sit on your ass and do nothing!"

"I am doing something!" Plotz replied. "But since you wanna go down there so badly, I'm sending you! Why don't you go out with the Warners?!"

Heloise went silent for a moment, processing the words that left her boss's mouth. "Are you insane? There's a riot going on outside, and you think sending me is going to fix things!?"

"They'll listen to you!"

Heloise didn't like the mocking tone in her boss's voice. She wiped her tears and felt anger simmer in her chest. "Fuck you."

"What? I'm just telling you what you told me."

"I'm not the CEO, am I?"

"Exactly, we can get a new nurse by tomorrow if I have to. You want to go out there so badly? Go for it. Leave."

The nurse wasn't expecting to hear that. She looked back out towards the lot, avoiding the sight of her hanging mutilated coworker. She wasn't entirely sure why Plotz thought sending a nurse out in the middle of the chaos was going to be any help. She's not dealt with the Warners a few times, and each time she had to file some sort of sexual harassment form. Is that what Plotz wanted? For her to distract them in such a way? It made her sick to her stomach. Heloise tried to look on the bright side of things: she could aid the paramedics. But the Warners were loose on the lot, an extra pair of hands won't make a difference, would it?

Besides, she didn't want to expose herself to such a fate.

"The boys literally bend over backward for you," Plotz continued. "They'll die for you! You'll just have to figure out how to distract them for long enough."

Heloise wiped her tears and scoffed, "You're joking. You're such a fucking"--

Plotz slammed his hands on his desk, "You know damn well they'll listen to you! You make those two boys drop to their knees if it means a kiss on the cheek!"

"Oh, so we're getting Gibson and Renolds here too, right? Because I'm not going out there on my own! Who's taking care of the girl?!"

"The girl does whatever her brother tells her to!"

The nurse scoffed, "You really don't know the Warners, do you?"

"Well, you're about to find out," Plotz said as he gestured towards the door. "I'll send in some backup as soon as I can. Just go out there and buy me some time— that's an order."

The nurse was taken aback by his request. She shook her head in disapproval as she wiped her eyes, her tears of grief slowly replaced by tears of anger. Who did Plotz think she was? "So, I'm just going to buy you time while you sit on your ass and play with your"--

"Damn it, Heloise!" Plotz yelled as he got up from his seat and went around his desk. "I'm not asking you again. Get out of my office and step out onto the floor. I'll see who I can find and I'll get you out of there as soon as I can."

Heloise blinked back tears and crossed her arms out in front of her, "I'm putting in my two-week notice."

"Sweet," Plotz replied. "But until then, you work for me."

"Then I quit."

"So you're going to leave the studio with a reputation like this? No one would hire you then. At least be a part of the solution instead of the problem."

Heloise sighed to herself and she ran her hand through her blonde hair, "Oh, fuck me."

"I'm free at 8."

Heloise resisted the urge to knock him out with his stapler. She didn't know what to do. She's never experienced a situation such as the one she's experiencing now. Most, if not-- all-- toons were able to keep themselves together through their adversities. Heloise couldn't imagine the Looney Tunes going haywire.

But then again, the Warners were the only toons she could think of with a particular set of issues. And it wasn't hard to understand why.

You see, she wasn't on board with the agreement to keep them in solitary confinement. Especially not in pitch-black darkness, void of most of their senses. Heloise remembered trying to find alternatives for them, but nothing seemed to work. And she had a role to play. So even if Heloise were to have figured something out to meet the Warners in the middle, it was outside of her job description. Besides, no one ever listens to the blonde nurse.

"So, I'll go out there and do what, exactly?" she finally asked. There was a ping of sympathy coursing through her the more she thought about seeing the three siblings. Maybe she could help them. Not in the way Plotz would want her to, but she could try. The boys seemed to like her, and they'd respected her before.

Who knows? Maybe it'll work.

Plotz lifted his gaze and waved her off, "I have no clue. You're the one they drool over. Whatever you do, don't tell them where I'm at. I can't have them coming up here to destroy my office. I switched locations for a reason."

Heloise shifted her gaze to the window behind the desk, scanning the scenery below. She could feel her heart break at the sight of the lot. She wasn't ready for the task she had before her but there wasn't anything she could do to avoid it at this point. She was going to have to meet the Warners-- whether she wanted to or not.

Stepping out onto the lot wasn't any better. Heloise breathed in the dusk California air as she opened the double doors of the building. Instead of the calming scent of pavement and food, Heloise inhaled the metallic scent of blood and decaying bodies in the hot California air. It made her sick to her stomach as she saw the splotches of red scattered all over the studio.

The sight of her lifeless coworker wrecked her yet again as she caught sight of it. She stood there, hand over her mouth in shock with tears streaming down her face as she gazed upon her deceased friend. Her stomach churned with the thought of the Warners doing such an act. It was one thing to see it through a window, but as she approached the tower, she could clearly see his organs dangling through the net. His hand, or what was left of it, was pushed up against the ropes, gripped on for dear life.

She could only imagine what his final moments looked like. She felt her blood run cold at the thought of her own. The Warners seemed so innocent. How did they have the guts to do something like this? No pun intended.

Ralph dangled and swayed slowly in the wind. It was an eerily calm pattern compared to the staggered and jagged screams and cries from below him.

Heloise almost toppled over when a random man ran in front of her. She gasped at the sudden scare and held herself up on the door. "This can't be happening," she mumbled as she stared at her neatly painted nails against the concrete wall of the building she stood next to. She blinked back tears and found herself unable to move.

What was she doing? Did she agree with Plotz? Did she really walk out here thinking she could fix this?

Heloise scoffed at herself. She wasn't ready to face the Warners. She's always found the three young and bubbly toons to be annoying. Sweet, overbearing, but never terrifying. But as Heloise came to her senses, she realized she was just that: terrified- paralyzed in fear. Taking a deep breath, Heloise pushed herself up and gulped. Her throat felt dry as she felt the scrapes and burn as she swallowed.

Oh, what she would do for a glass of water right now.

Scanning the lot, the Warners couldn't be seen anywhere. Heloise didn't know where to start looking. How was she supposed to know their whereabouts when she was given no information at all? Did Plotz think she knew everything? Sure, Heloise had several PhDs and spoke fluent Japanese, but that didn't mean she could see through walls.

Upon seeing the various officers on sight, she went towards them. They were with the Warners the entire time; they had to know where they were. "Excuse me," she said, approaching a couple of paramedics who were working on a victim. "Is everything alright over here?"

One of the men looked up at her. Aside from her beautiful physique, the nurse that stood before him looked like she'd just seen a ghost. Of course, he couldn't blame her. A couple of unhinged toons, a lot full of dead bodies, and a guard on display would do that to a person. "We should be asking you that question, ma'am. Everything's alright here, but we're getting calls left and right. We can't keep up, and I have a couple of my workers working on the frontlines."

The nurse raised a brow, "The frontlines? What does that mean?"

The man gave her a short smile, "With the Warners."

"You've seen them?" She asked, wide-eyed. "Where are they?"

Pointing towards one of the buildings with his free hand, he said, "They're in there. I saw them run in, but I didn't see them run out." A pause. "Unless there's a back door we don't know about, they should be there."

Heloise shifted her gaze over towards the building, seeing cops and other law enforcers surround it. She played with the ends of her hair, unable to wrap her head around the fact that the three toons she spent most of her time with became so dangerous. Without saying goodbye to the paramedic, Heloise began making her way towards the building.

"Be careful!" The paramedic called out to her as she walked away. "The Warners aren't the cute toons they used to be! They went haywire!" The man said as he twirled his finger beside his temple.

Heloise knew that. She didn't bother giving the man any acknowledging gesture. Approaching the building, Heloise felt a strong sensation of courage overtake her. She could hear the cops call out through their megaphones and scream into the building for the three toons to cease their havoc, and all she could do was laugh.

Didn't they know that the Warners thrived off their panic?

She could have sworn she heard the Warners giggle from where she was standing. It sent chills down her spine and made her heart beat fast in her chest. Those same giggles used to be the one that made her smile in annoyance- now, it was making her hold her breath in fear.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to stay back," one of the officers ordered.

Heloise shook her head and showed them her Warner Brothers ID. "No, I'm going to need everyone to step away."

"No, I'm afraid we can't let you do that."

"Why is that?"

"Ms. Heloise, we can't"-

"Dr. That's Dr. Heloise," she corrected as she pushed her hair behind her ear, "and I really wasn't asking for your permission. I work for this studio, and I'm asking you to pull your crew out."

The cop looked at her and back towards the building.

"We have a plan. But I need your people out." Heloise's voice must have been much more determined than she thought it was because the officer gave her a nod. Seeing the cops back away from the building and retreat from inside, Heloise took a breath. She ran her hand through her blonde hair and pulled out her red lipstick. She slowly but carefully tinted her lips and used it to add a bit of blush to her cheeks. Her button-up shirt mysteriously popped, letting a bit of cleavage show. She hated this, but as she tightened her skirt against her waist, she realized it was the only way to get their attention. She looked almost the same way she looked on the show.

And toons don't stray far from the characteristics with which they were created. She looked back at the group of men and the crowd that surrounded her. She wasn't going to lie- she missed having such power in her gaze.

The people were calm. Only the sounds of conversation from the injured victims and paramedics could be heard. The soft voices from officers and front liners, communicating plans and actions. There was no more erratic screaming and hysterical crying. It was off-putting- the calm before the storm. She began walking towards the building, the sound of her heels clicking against the concrete pavement loud in her ears. As she opened the door, she felt a cold breeze run through her. The lights were all out, but the orange hue of the sunset illuminated the interior.

"Boys?" she called out, keeping her voice calm and steady, "Oh, boys?" she sang.

The rustling of footsteps coming from above stopped as soon as the words left her tinted lips.

Yakko froze. He shifted his ears into a makeshift antenna and tried to locate the sound. He was on the 3rd floor with his siblings at his side. With the voice sounding as distant as it did; he knew she wasn't up here-- but she was close, and Yakko could feel his excitement rise.

"Where is she?" Wakko asked as he crawled on the floor and peaked out of one of the doorways. His tail wagged as he scanned the empty office rooms for any sign of movement as he passed them. "I'm heading back down."

"I'll be right behind you," Yakko said as he followed behind his brother. He recognized that voice and he wanted to see her too.

Wakko crawled up towards the ceiling, using a few office chairs and notebooks to push him high. He pushed the roof tiles up and sneaked his way into the space between the floors. He reached down to grab his sibling's hands, pulling them both up beside him. Wakko heard the voice call out to them again, and he quickly ran down the vents and entered the dumbwaiter he conveniently left between the floors. He gestured for his siblings to hurry behind.

Yakko quickly stepped inside and grabbed the small rope that hung in the middle of the box. He pulled down and let the elevator drop at full speed to the bottom floor. It crashed with a loud bang that echoed throughout the floor.

It made Heloise jump in fright. She quickly turned towards the sound and slowly began creeping down the messy halls. It was riddled with broken vases, portraits, and graffiti all over the walls. She looked at the white marbled walls and read "Yakko Waz Here" plastered on the wall with what she wished to be red paint. There were footprints along the floor and up a few of the walls. Holes, which Heloise assumed were smashed in by the Warners, were decorating the entire first floor.

She tried her best to step on the fallen papers and carpet to keep her heels from echoing, but it was impossible to keep quiet in such an empty and destroyed building. As she made her way through the halls, Heloise cringed at the splatters of blood against the white walls and windows. She didn't bother following the trails left behind; she already knew what she would find- or, who, in this case.

Heloise peeked her head around the corner of the hallway and saw the three toons hop out from the small space within the walls. She quickly hid behind, keeping her breaths calm and steady. She couldn't afford to lose her cool now. The Warners wouldn't take that well. Heloise adjusted her hair and pulled down her shirt, knowing that her best course of action was to let them come to her first. "Boys? Is that you?"

In an instant, she felt the two boys grasp onto her legs and waist. Her heart skipped a beat as she almost toppled over, having to grab onto the stained wall for balance. It wasn't until a few seconds later that she realized the two Warner brothers weren't causing her any harm. Letting her adrenaline settle, she swatted away the hearts popping all around them.

"Hellooo Nurse!" The two sang out as they held onto her as tightly as they could.

Heloise looked down and noticed there was nothing in their hands. That calmed her down a bit, knowing that they didn't have any weapons capable of mass destruction at their immediate disposal. Well, she thought about their hammerspace but that was besides the point.

Dot loudly sighed as she turned the corner, dragging her bloody bat behind her. "Are you two serious? We just killed an entire floor of interns, and you wanna stop for the nurse?"

"An entire floor?" The nurse repeated in shock.

Yakko looked up at the nurse and gave her a warm smile. "We won't hurt you," he said, nuzzling into her chest, "You're too great to beat to a pulp."

"I knew you'd come for us," Wakko said with a nod.

"You made our plan so much easier for us!" Yakko said as he looked up at the nurse, hugging her tightly and letting his hands slightly wander.

Dot rolled her eyes, "Ugh, Boys. Go fig."

Heloise couldn't help but give them a little smile back as she pushed Yakko's hands down lower. It was comforting to know that they were acting like their usual selves around her-- besides Dot holding her bat, of course. She reached down and grabbed the two boys by their scruff. "So, why are you three running around causing a scene, huh?" Her voice was almost playful.

"Oh, you know," Yakko said as he reached out to grab her, "It's just our usual."

The nurse looked them over, seeing the red stains on their faded clothes. She noticed their worn-down appearance, and she couldn't help but feel for them. She couldn't imagine what that must have been like, being kept in isolation for so long with no access to any sort of care. The Warners looked so washed out and abandoned. It hurt her to see it. Heloise used her free hand to adjust her hair, "Now, you two know you can't just go around doing what you want. It never leads anywhere. You know that."

Yakko wasn't listening to her. Sure, he was looking at her red lips, but it wasn't for the words that were being spoken. He tried to reach out to her again, "Did you miss us? Did you see us in your dreams the same way we saw you in ours"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Dot slammed the bat into the wall, "Can we keep this show on the road?"

Heloise smiled at her, "Don't worry, sweetie. I missed you the most."

Dot rolled her eyes as she hid her smile.

"How much did you miss us?" Wakko asked. "We aren't bad toons, you know. So what if we killed a few dozen people in the past hour or so? Our reputation has been worse!"

Yakko nodded, "Yeah, you stayed with us before! You can stay with us again this time, right?" Yakko didn't intend to sound so desperate, he was sure that he wouldn't have reacted this way before. He was supposed to be mad at her, why was he begging for her approval? Either way, it didn't matter, the end goal was the same.

Heloise smiled down at Yakko and poked his nose, "I do like you guys…"

There was a pause, a slight hesitation in her words that made Yakko panic. "But what?" Yakko asked, looking up at the nurse. "You can't blame us for what we did! That wasn't our fault!"

"We did what we had to do," Wakko added as he held onto Heloise's arms tightly.

Heloise continued feeling her heart break for the three children in front of her, "You three know there are ways to communicate things around here, right? If you want something, you gotta ask for it."

"Ask for it?" Yakko said as he pulled away. "How the hell were we supposed to ask when no one would listen?!" His voice was bordering a whine and he could feel all the pent-up frustrations come bubbling back towards the surface. "Were we supposed to write you a letter?!"

Heloise opened her mouth to speak but was instantly cut off by the middle Warner sibling.

"Fine," Wakko said as he reached up and pushed down on Heloise's knuckles, causing her to lose her grip and drop them to the floor. "Can we please speak to Plotz? We have a few choice words we want to share with him."

Heloise smiled, "You know I can't tell you where he is"-

"But you said you would help us!" Yakko announced as he picked himself off the floor. "You said we should ask nicely and we did! But no, you're going to leave us behind again, just like you did before, aren't you!" Yakko could feel the familiar sense of panic rise in his throat.

That hurt. Heloise closed her eyes as she cupped Yakko's face gently in her hand, "I'm not planning on leaving you anywhere. I never did."

Yakko scoffed as he pushed her hand away, "Fucking liar."

Hearing the young toon curse caught her off guard. "Yakko!"

"You've done it before, so we'd just be idiotic fools to think you won't do it again. We really thought you'd help up but look at us, back at square one in this god-forsaken mess!"

"Square one?"

"We've always been so good to you, Nurse," Yakko began as he reached behind his back, "Why doesn't anyone return the favor? Why can't we be treated with respect too?"

Before Yakko could grab his ax from his hammerspace, Heloise held her hands out in front of her, "Give me a chance to explain myself, I can show you that I do try to do what's best for the three of you."

"Locking us in a dark tower with no food, water, ink, or entertainment?" Dot asked, raising a brow. She had her hands behind her back as well. 

"Oh trust me," Heloise replied as she softened her tone of voice, "I did try to fix that."

The three toons stayed silent for a while, looking at the nurse as she smoothed out her skirt and gently held her hands out to the Warners. "We can talk about it."

"So, he sent you too?" Yakko asked, cutting her off. She was just as beautiful as he remembered her being. But alas, beauty can only get her so far.

Heloise looked at the eldest Warner and crouched to meet his height. She playfully poked his nose and laughed, "Oh sweetie, no. No one sent me. I just heard that you guys were out of the tower, and I wanted to come to say hello and see what's going on."

Yakko raised a brow and looked out the windows, seeing the cops standing there, armed and ready. "You're such a bad liar. Your fake support got us nowhere."

"You don't believe me?" Heloise asked, looking out the window with him. "I'm the one who told them to stand back."

Yakko looked at her, "Sweet, but that doesn't change the fact that you aren't willing to help us."

"If you're referring to the CEO, I can't tell you where Plotz is. I'm sorry."

"You can't? Or you won't?" Wakko clarified as he took a step back.

Heloise didn't answer. She gave the Warners a small smile and shook her head, "I'm sorry."

"How stupid do you think we are?" Yakko asked her. "Plotz told you to come. We aren't stupid. Since when do you willingly spend time with us?"

"I do want to spend time with you," Heloise replied.

"No, you want to buy time with us. Those are two completely different things."

Damn, Yakko was quick to figure that one out. Granted, it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Heloise looked out the window, hoping to see someone come to her aid. She wasn't sure what her plan was- hell, she didn't even know what her next step consisted of. Yet here she was, standing in front of the three toons in dead silence.

Yakko stepped towards his sister and shook his head in disappointment, "Should have known. You're no better than he is."

"What does that mean?" Heloise asked. The Warners stared at her. She didn't know what to say, but she knew she had to think of something quick because Heloise was not about to stay here for longer than she had to. How could she prove to them that she did care? "Hey, you guys hungry? I can treat you to dinner. We can maybe see what the cafeteria has and—."

"No," Yakko replied as he leaned against his sister, an idea sparking into his mind. "Let us."

Heloise looked at the eldest Warner in confusion. She wasn't expecting that to happen at all. She expected the boys to leap up in excitement for a shared dinner together, not flip the script. But, if it made them stop their murderous intentions towards the public for a few minutes, then so be it. She nodded.

The two brothers quickly ran over and grabbed her hands in theirs. Heloise would feel the excitement radiate off of them, but there was something different about them. Under all that anger, Heloise knew the children were terrified. They didn't ask to be treated like shit by a studio whose only goal is a paycheck. They were so small, and they looked like they'd fall apart at any second. But if the Warners were going to fall apart, they would have done so long ago. And they were already emotionally broken- Heloise resisted the urge to scoop them up and apologize for all the wrong she's done to them. But now wasn't the best time to do so.

Maybe over dinner.

As she let the Warners lead her towards the building's basement- which should have been the first red flag- she looked through each of the windows. Where was Plotz? Heloise was told that Plotz would think of something before things got too dangerous. Sure, the Warners weren't showing any signs of aggression- but it could quickly switch up.

Yakko wasn't an idiot, either. He knew Heloise was lying. With the way she shifted her gaze from them to the window, then back to them, it was clear she was waiting for something to happen. He knew all the tricks, all the subtle moves that he's studied throughout the years. Please, he was a toon written for slapstick and comebacks. Body language was lesson number two. A part of Yakko couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed in the act. Deep down, Yakko knew that he'd have to cut her short, and he was hopeful that she'd at least attempt to help. But no, here she was just pretending to care.

If she really did care, she would have told them here the CEO was hiding. If Heloise really did care, she wouldn't have left them alone for as long as she did. Yakko remembered begging for her to stay with them a little while longer before she shut the door behind her, but she left anyway-- Yakko wasn't surprised. The only good part about this little trip was going to be seeing the look on the nurse's face as the realization of her betrayal set in. Yakko couldn't wait for it.

Dot led the way, making casual comments over the victims of their wrath. She smiled as she recalled the struggle they put up as she kicked their limbs to the side and hopped over them. Opening the doors towards the stairwell, Dot gasped. They were about to treat Hello Nurse to dinner. They had to make a hell of a last impression, didn't they? She stepped inside and shut the door behind her before her brothers could enter. The basement was in no condition to host.

She used her toon speed to run around the mess, quickly organizing everything in place and adding a 'feminine touch' to the room. The basement was like every other basement she's encountered. Old, musty, and damp. There were papers scattered on the floor and boxes of documents scattered along the walls of the building. Dot spotted a small foldable table propped up against the concrete wall. She took it and shook it open, clearing out the space in the center of the room. She fritzed up some candles and lighters, making the room light up in orange and red hue.

Content with how the basement ended up, she shoved all of the cabinets, computers, and files into the corner. It would come in handy later; she just knew it. She placed the lighter in her hammerspace and dusted off her gloves before spinning into character.

"Table for three?" Dot asked, swinging the door open to reveal herself dressed up in a waitress uniform. She had a napkin over her forearm, stained red as it rubbed against her fur.

"Oh, sire," Yakko replied as he pulled out a monocle from his hammerspace. "I must say, I simply adore your mousse-stash."

Dot smiled, "Oh please, brother o' mine. You flatter me."

Heloise watched the humorous exchange, almost forgetting these toons were dangerous. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that these kids took down half a studio's employment. But here they were, dressed in silly formal wear and joking over a meal.

"Only the best for the lady," Wakko said as he stepped forward, leading the nurse down the basement steps. "Look at her, she's drop-dead gorgeous!."

Dot gave her brother a smirk, "Oh, she sure is."

There was something hidden under Dot's voice that Heloise couldn't identify. Was it sarcasm? An inside joke? Whatever it was, she didn't like it. She was eating dinner with mentally unstable toons in an office basement with dozens of dead bodies above her. Now that she thought about it, there were many things about this situation that she didn't like. The way she ended up in this position was a surprise to her too.

"Madam," Yakko said as he pulled out a seat for her at the worn-down plastic table.

The nurse hesitantly giggled. She wasn't going to let her guard down, so she sat down on the rusted chair Yakko pulled out. She looked down, feeling the white fabric that lay over the table between her fingers. It was rough and stained, but it didn't look too bad in the dimly lit room. In a few moments, the room would be dark, especially since the only light that reached the room came from the small windows near the roof and small candles. It took Heloise a moment to realize that they were underground. She mentally slapped herself. Duh, Heloise. Basements are usually underground.

Watching the youngest Warner light up the new candles that appeared on the center of the table, she cleared her throat. "So, guys, what's for dinner?"

Wakko chuckled, "Nurse, Nurse, Nurse," he sang as he reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a plethora of dishes, "Come on, you know me!" The meals stacked up on top of each other, creating a mountain of hot and ready dinners. "Pick out what you want!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want your last meal to be anything other than enjoyable!" Dot said as she ran behind the seated nurse and tied the blood-stained napkin around her neck, a bit too tight for her liking.

Heloise felt her blood run cold. She looked at the eldest Warner, who sat in front of her with innocent black eyes. She could see the ax resting across his lap. Heloise didn't know what to say. She found herself laughing at the thought that she might never eat another meal again. She looked at the decade-old mountain of food and felt herself become overwhelmed.

"Wanna share the joke?" Yakko said, watching the nurse giggle in front of him. He didn't know what she found so funny, but if she thought she could laugh at them, Heloise had another thing coming.

"Nothing, I"--

"You must have found something funny here," Yakko said, his voice lacking any emotion. "What was it?"

Heloise wasn't able to respond to the question. Whether it was out of fear or confusion, nothing came to mind. She opened her mouth to say something but the words wouldn't come out. They got stuck in her throat.

"We bring you food, treat you to a nice candlelit dinner, and you laugh?" Yakko asked, clarifying his perspective on the matter.

Wakko looked up at the small window that sat slightly above the wall and realization set in. "Oh, you're probably laughing because you know someone out there is going to get us."

Dot climbed onto the table and swung her feet off the sides, "Bet you can't wait to see us get taken away, huh?"

"What? No!"

"You wanna see us back in that water tower, don't you?" Yakko asked with his own smile. "Is that why you won't tell us where Plotz is?"

"Bet you can't wait to throw us in there yourself, just like you did last time," Dot said in anger as she looked at the nurse.

Heloise wasn't expecting the three toons to attack her this way. If she came down here to prove that she cared about them, she wasn't doing a good job. "What? I never wanted to throw you in there in the first place!"

"Yes you did," Wakko said as he sat beside his brother, "You chased us around too-- we didn't forget!"

"We tried to keep things open for some sort of retaliation, Heloise. You're a smart woman," Yakko began. "But you never listened to anything we had to say. Every desperate plea that came out of our mouths meant nothing to you."

Her eyes filled with an emotion the Warners couldn't quite place their finger on.

"We didn't want you to go," Wakko said as he looked down at the crowbar in his hand, "We thought maybe you cared, you know since you're a nurse and all. But boy were we wrong."

"So don't you dare tell us that you cared. You couldn't have cared less. You probably celebrated along with them," Dot said, looking at the nurse, who now had tears welling up in her eyes.

Yakko watched the nurse cry.

"It was part of my job," Heloise said as she wiped her eyes, "You guys weren't the only toons he's harassed throughout the years. You think I wanted to do that to you three?"

"You could have quit," Yakko snapped back, "But you didn't. You choose to stay here and continue to do his dirty work!"

"You don't understand"-

"No! No, I do understand!" Yakko shouted back at her as he got out of his chair, "Because you're a whore for the money too! That paycheck gets delivered to your door, and it'll take you further than every man you've been with!"

Heloise watched Yakko's hands. She could take offense to that statement but making sure she lived to feel offended was a bigger priority.

"So now you have nothing to say?" Dot asked as she hopped off the table and gently tapped her bat to the floor.

"Ran out of lies?" Yakko asked.

"I wasn't lying," the nurse replied.

"Then tell us where he is? If you weren't lying, you wouldn't give two shits about him either."

And that's where her dilemma came. She knew that Plotz wasn't the best CEO, but he was a good person when he tried to be. He had his moments of compassion and sympathy that he's gotten better with throughout the years. The Warners just weren't around to see it; they wouldn't know.

"You think I stayed here for the money?" She finally said as she regained her composure, "I'm a nurse. I care about my patients!"

"Well, you obviously didn't care about us," Wakko said.

"I did care!" Heloise replied loudly. She was about to get up from her seat when she felt hands wrap around her.

Dot appeared behind Heloise, stretching her arms out to secure her to the seat. "Oh, hush. You don't need to make this harder than it needs to be."

Heloise had no idea how Dot had gotten behind her. She was standing right in front of her a few seconds ago. Feeling her worn-down gloves over her lips wasn't the best sensation. Instinctually, Heloise reached up and tried to pry Dot's hand away from hers.

But Dot didn't let her go. She laughed and covered her mouth tighter with every struggle the woman put up. And it wasn't just her mouth Dot was pushing in, it was her entire torso. Dot had wrapped her arms around and around the struggling nurse. She could hear the cries of frustration turn into those of pain the harder she pushed her mouth shut against her hands.

The rubbing of the rough fabric scrapped against her smooth lips. It felt like the world's most painful exfoliation, and she desperately wanted to be released. Heloise could feel the skin around her lips get irritated, and she knew they would start to peel. Her eyes watered from the pain.

"Such a shame," Yakko said as he stepped towards the side. "Such a pretty face with an evil heart."

The urge to rebuttal that statement overtook Heloise as she tried her hardest to speak. She had to let them know that she wasn't a mean bitch that followed along with whatever Plotz said. She had a brain and a bit of common sense. She had Phds and Awards that prove she knew her way around the world, so for the Warners to label her as something other than that was unacceptable. Not only was it making her upset, but it was starting to piss her off.

"You're lucky I'm the one doing all the grabbing," Dot said softly into her ears, "Between us girls, we both know my brothers would have gotten carried away."

She looked at the Warners and fought the hand some more. However, she realized that the more she struggled to free herself, the more suffocated she became. She cried out louder as she shook in her seat, unable to get in her breath.

Yakko and Wakko grabbed the tall candles their sister lit up and held them close to the nurse's face. They smiled as Heloise's eyes went wide with fear. The flame flickered too close to her nose.

The Warners and fire were never a good mix.

Heloise darted her eyes towards the window and prayed to see someone out there. She knew there were police and paramedics out there waiting for something to happen, but how was she going to let them know she was about to be killed?

It's nice seeing you have hope," Yakko began as he teasingly swayed the lit candle in front of her face, letting the flame get dangerously close. "But let me just rip the bandaid off now: No one's coming."

Heloise stopped struggling and let herself go limp. She knew that the words coming out of Yakko's mouth were true. There was no point in denying it-- Heloise used to be on the other side. But now that she was sitting in the office basement with fire close to her face, she finally understood.

She knew what it felt like to be forgotten and left by someone you thought you could trust. She struggled in Dot's drip and tried to mumble something. Her cries of pain now sounded like muffled words, which caught Dot by surprise.

"You have something to say?" Dot questioned with a laugh. "What do you think, Yakko? should I let her speak?"

With an approving shrug, Yakko nodded, removing the flame from her face. Whatever she had left to say was no longer relevant to him. Her lips were only good for so much. He watched as Heloise gasped for air and coughed before picking her head up.

Heloise sobbed and gasped, begging for Yakko to stop whatever he had planned. She cried for him to think about his actions.

But Yakko just watched her. He flicked his tail with every broken and panicked sob that escaped her blood-red lips. He didn't know how much longer he could take her pleas. He could tell his sister was itching to shut her up again.

Wakko reached behind him and grabbed his blood-clovered crowbar, and used it to pick up Heloise's chin. He brought her gaze up to him as he stepped closer and used his free hand to gesture for her to quiet down. "You're so loud," he calmly said. "We're right here. There's no need to yell, you know."

"Please," she begged as she tried to pull her head back as far as she could. She didn't want her skin to touch the rusted metal- especially knowing that her friend's blood was all over it. "I can't tell you where Plotz is, but I can help you in other ways! What do you want to know? How I proposed to keep your program running? Or how I tried to lessen the time inside the tower for you?! I advocated for a reboot!" Heloise looked at Yakko specifically. Since he was always the leader of the trio, it'd only make sense to make sure her words were getting to him. His siblings follow his lead, after all.

"Oh, did you now?" Yakko said with a chuckle.

Heloise scoffed as she nodded her head. Most of her emotions were confusing to her at the moment, but there was one thing she knew for sure: even when the Warners were threatening her life- they still managed to get her annoyed. Why didn't he take her seriously? "Stop it, Yakko!"

"Aw, you're getting mad?" Wakko asked. He removed the crowbar from under her chin and poked her nose. "You should learn how to control your emotions. Where's that bedside manner?"

"I'm trying to tell you too that I care, and you don't take me seriously! What else do you want me to do?"

"You're a part of the problem, Heloise," Yakko said as he adjusted the candle in his hand. "You think we're just killing you because you won't take us to Plotz? Please, you aren't that important. We're getting to him whether you want us to or not."

"Wait, what?"

"You had the gall to lie in our face and then cry about it. Fuck you."

"You're taking this too far."

"We're taking it too far?" Yakko asked as he leaned back, "What? Just because someone told you we're crazy, you're going to assume we can't pick up on social cues?"

Dot tsked from across the room. She was digging through a pile of canisters as she spoke, sitting innocently in the pile of papers she set aside earlier. "You believed him when he told you, didn't you?"

"Believed who?"

"When he told you we were crazy," Wakko clarified. "But he'll get his turn soon."

Heloise had no idea what the Warners were talking about. She was more focused on the part where Yakko said he was going to kill her. "Don't kill me," she said, feeling her eyes well up with tears of terror. "I just"-

"I want you to think about those next choice of words," Yakko said as he cut her off. He dropped the candle on the floor and had the ax in his hand, pointed towards her face, "Because the scars we can give you aren't pretty."

Heloise felt her heart race in her ears. She knew the Warners wouldn't hesitate to swing it down. She had to choose her words carefully. "Yakko, listen to me. I need you to understand that I never wanted to see you three up there-- The studio failed you," Heloise whispered. As soon as those words left her mouth, the room got quiet. She looked up at Yakko and shook her head, "I'm so sorry. We failed you."

Yakko felt his heart race in his chest as he took a step back, "What is this? A pity party?"

"No." Heloise looked at Wakko, "I wish I would have done more. Please, give me a chance to fix it."

He didn't need to listen to her bullshit for longer than he had to. Yakko wasn't an idiot. The whole reason she was down here was to buy Plotz some time. Listening to her martyr speech was a waste of it. "You know what they say about liars," Yakko said with a smirk.

"I'm not lying!" She yelled back. That was when something bright caught her attention. She looked down towards the floor next to the table and followed the rolling candle down the room. Her heart dropped to the seat she was sitting in when she began registering the environment that surrounded her. Was that--

Gasoline?

When did that happen? And why was the smell suddenly burning the inside of her nose? She looked at Dot, who reappeared beside her brother, holding a small red bottle that she couldn't identify.

"Right?" Yakko asked, snapping his fingers to bring her back to attention, "Nurse?"

Wakko smiled and shook his head, "I think you know what happens to liars... don't you, Nurse?"

Heloise didn't know what came over her. She quickly got up from her chair and tried to run towards the flight of stairs that led up to the door. However, as soon as she left the seat, she felt heat rise around her. And the laughter that rang in her ears sent shivers down her spine.

"Say it, Nurse!" Yakko chanted as he pulled her back to her seat. "Say it! What happens to liars?!"

The room began to light up in flames, swallowing everything around her in excruciating heat.

"I'm not a fucking liar!" Heloise shrieked, feeling the back of her throat get coated with ash and fumes that quickly rose from the burning office.

"The fuck you're not!" Yakko shouted back as Dot splashed the clear flammable liquid all over Heloise's lap. "Maybe you need a visual reminder!" He grabbed a match from his sister and rubbed it over his old pants, causing it to spark alive. He tossed it on her lap and watched Heloise struggle to pat it dry.

Wakko wrapped his arms around her neck in a hug, "Let me help you!" He happily offered, stretching down towards her legs.

"No!" Heloise screamed, feeling the flames burn her flesh, "Fuck off!"

"I love the smell of gasoline," Dot casually said as she swirled the remaining liquid in the bottle. "I've always wanted to do this."

"Do what?" Wakko asked as he continued to hold the screaming nurse in her seat.

"This." Dot grabbed a match and flicked it on. She threw it into the bottle and tossed it into the air, smiling brightly as the bottle exploded above her. It was a much louder explosion than she intended, for it was causing the building to rumble.

"Get me the fuck out!" Heloise shrieked.

"Ah-Ah-Ah," Yakko said as he poked her nose, "You never answered our question." Yakko looked terrifying with the fire rising around him. How was he not burning up?

"I can't feel my legs, I can't"-

"Oh, you could have done so much more, babe," Yakko said. Now, it was his turn to cup her face in his hands. "But you asked for this. It's almost like you wanted us to take your breath away, just like you used to do to us. So don't blame me when it was you who drove us crazy first."

Heloise lost the feeling in her legs. She didn't even dare look down at them because she knew they were charred and burned to the point of no return. "Just like I do to you, huh? Then why take me away?" Her voice was low against the cracks and gushes of flames that surrounded her. Not to mention the younger Warners prancing around, spreading the fire as far as it could.

"We both know that you had no intention of ever getting us out of there. So please, save your breath. You're gonna need it." Yakko laughed as he joined his siblings, skipping around her with the biggest smiles on their faces. "Did we go too far this time?"

The sound of fire trucks could be heard getting closer and closer and the Warners could see several feet running to and fro from the small window that led into the outside world. They were screaming outside again, and it was such a satisfying sound.

"Liar, Liar!" Dot sang as she laughed and kicked some boxes and smashed computers down onto the floor.

"Pants on fire!" Wakko sang back.

Yakko didn't take her eyes off of the nurse, he enjoyed watching her pretty face morph into something gruesome and foul. He held back a laugh as he watched her writhe in pain.

Heloise felt her skin melt into the seat beneath her as her clothes mixed with her skin. She didn't know where she was anymore. The fumes she's inhaled began making her sleepy, but she knew that if she let the sleep overpower her, she wouldn't wake up.

"Pants on fire!"

"Pants on fire!"

"Liar Liar!"

"Pants on fire!"

She could feel the hair on her skin burn as she tried to wave the fire away. She wasn't going to make it out of here, but at least she would die knowing she put up a fight, right? Even if she did, Plotz had failed her. Maybe if Heloise had given the Warners his whereabouts, she would still have her silky smooth skin and healthy lungs. But it was too late for that. There was no return from this; she couldn't fix it. Drifting off into her unconsciousness, she could still hear the manic laughter that came from the Warners as they ran around the basement room. She tried to catch a glimpse, but she felt her eyes burn with every blink. She didn't even bother to scream. She felt her throat coated with layers of ash and fumes. As the flames engulfed her, she closed her eyes for the last time. She felt the hot flames rise from her clothes, hair, and skin, suddenly feeling cold as she drifted out of consciousness.

Oh, what she would have done for that glass of water.

Chapter Text

The darkness seemed to be a reoccurring theme for the Warners. The water tower, the basement, and now the locked therapy room they were sitting in. Scratchnsniff pushed his glasses up his face as he looked at the Warners calmly sitting on his couch. He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a breath. They were awfully calm after just having set a building on fire.

"Why are the windows shut?" Dot asked as she tried to sneak a peek under the taped-up curtains.

"And why are all the lights off?" Wakko asked, grabbing Austin's flashlight from his hammerspace.

"I just wanted to give you three a safe space, void of distractions," Scratchnsniff replied, making his way towards his couch. He took a seat and grabbed his clipboard from the table. He clicked the pen against the armrest. Plotz had called him just moments before. Unlike his coworkers, Scratchnsniff wasn't afraid of the Warners. Sure, he had his guard up, but curiosity far outweighed the freight-- he was a psychiatrist, after all. If he could get to the root of the problem, then finding a way to keep them from hurting other people would be simple.

Scratchnsniff leaned back in his seat and observed the three siblings. Aside from their faded, bloodied, and washed-up appearance, they looked relatively normal. They held a glint in their eyes, but that glint has always been there. It was nothing new. "What are your names?" Scratchy asked, looking down at his clipboard and flipping through the various pages.

The youngest Warners looked over at their eldest brother, waiting for him to start their chain. But Yakko didn't respond. He stared at Scratchnsniff emotionless.

The psychiatrist gave him a small smile as he rested his clipboard in his lap and mimicked his posture, "What is on your mind?"

There was no response from the eldest toon. It was an odd observation given Yakko's named after what he does best. Scratchnsniff purposely choose that line, straight from the show, thinking it would prompt them to engage. He shifted his attention to the youngest Warners, who appeared to be more receptive to his voice. (But that was only inferred because they spoke a few seconds ago.) He repeated the question to them, but like their oldest brother, they gave nothing but stares.

"Okay," he softly said as he adjusted himself on his sofa chair. Scratchnsniff knew that asking questions wasn't going to get them anywhere. He had to figure out how to get them to react. He didn't have much time to waste with them, either. Much like the Nurse, he was buying Plotz some time. The CEO told him he was getting ready to execute his plan-- whatever that meant. Scratchnsniff was never told what Plotz had in mind, but the psychiatrist figured he would know it when he sees it. So until then, it was up to him to figure something out.

Getting the Warners to come up to his office was the easy part-- mostly because they went up there willingly. As crazy as that sounds.

Scratchnsniff was in his office, looking out his window at the chaos spreading below when the Warners spotted him. They were running out of the burning building in hysterics as a group of police officers chased closed behind. The Warners locked themselves inside the building he was conveniently in and ran up into his office to ask for help. It wasn't like the Warners needed much help, to begin with, but they seemed to be receptive to Scratchnsniffs attempt to aid. Especially after agreeing to help them find Plotz. With years of experience in the field, Otto Von Scratchnsniff knew his way around the Warners.

"I'll ask a different question," the psychiatrist began. "Why don't you try to run me"-

"Over?" Yakko finally said with a smirk.

Scratchnsniff looked at Yakko and smiled. He didn't react to his statement but acknowledged that he was present. "Yakko, why don't you try to tell me what's going on?"

"You said you would help us," Dot replied. "It happened not so long ago."

"Yes, I recall, but I want to know what exactly you three did to get into the situation you're in now."

Yakko looked at his siblings and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the psychiatrist. Help. The Warners didn't need Scrachnsniff's help- far from it. Yakko knew what his end goal was, and he was determined to reach it. They went through Ralph and Heloise, the two people who played an active part in their capture. Now, they were meeting face to face with the man that made their stay at the tower so much worse.

"You want to know about everything? Or just the parts that matter?"

"Hm? What do you mean by that?"

"Don't go all therapeutic with me, Scratchy," Yakko said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I know the game."

"Game?"

"Yeah, the game where you make us feel like we're incapable of normality."

"I thought you three liked being abnormal? Zany?"

"Zany means abnormal to you?" Yakko said with a scoff, "For a P-sychiatrist working with toons, you sure are ignorant."

"We burned the nurse," Wakko said, pointing to the covered window, "She's in there."

Yakko nodded, "I knew she likes it deep-fried."

Dot and Wakko giggled at their brother's play on words.

"You think this is a good time for jokes, Yakko?"

"It's always a good time for jokes," Yakko replied, looking down at his gloved hands, stained and charred. "Have you met us?"

Unfortunately, thought Scratchnsniff as he nodded his head. "What happened with the nurse?"

Dot shrugged, picking the dried blood off her bat. "She burned."

"How?"

"With the fire."

"Which was started by?"

"Me." Dot seemed rather proud with her statement.

"I see." Scratchnsniff reached for his clipboard and jotted down some notes. Dot seemed to be showing no sign of remorse. "Well, what caused you three to chase after the nurse? Did she appear, or did you look for her?"

"Does it matter?" Yakko asked, staring at the carpet-covered floors. He was silent for a while until he said, "She came to us."

Scratchnsniff said nothing, giving them the space they needed to continue adding more.

"We were inside an office building because one of the interns inside threw hot coffee at my sister," Wakko said. "We killed the entire second floor."

"And then we went for the third," Dot added.

Scratchnsniff nodded, "Why? I understand the trigger coming from the intern, but what did the third floor do?"

"Nothing, it was just there." Dot didn't look at the psychiatrist; she continued to play with the bat in her hands. "They were screaming."

"Does the screaming bother you?"

The three Warners chuckled. Scratchnsniff wasn't sure what was going through the sibling's mind.

"No, we like it," Dot said as she got up from the couch and walked towards the window. She wasn't sure why they were willingly sitting on the couch when they weren't here for a session.

"Dot? Where are you going?"

She gestured towards the window, "Where does it look like?"

"You want to sit back down?" Scratchnsniff asked. "You don't have to, but I think it would make it easier." He heard Yakko scoff at his comment, which caused him to turn his attention to him. "Yakko? Is there something you want to say?"

"To you? Plenty."

"Like?"

Yakko looked over at his sister, "Like the fact that you're suddenly concerned over our well-being."

"I've always been"--

"Driven to insanity by us?" Yakko said, finishing his sentence. "You're awfully calm now."

"We had fun out there," Dot said, pushing the curtains out of the way. "Look, they're still screaming down there. Can you hear them?"

Scratchnsniff wasn't sure which toon to focus on. They were all about to enter their headspaces, so he decided to go with the toon out of her seat. "Dot? Does the screaming bring you joy?" Scratchnsniff repeated the same question.

Dot didn't answer immediately. She gazed out the window as if she were seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. "We had a bit of fun with her," Dot replied, looking down at the crowd below.

"Fun?" Scratchnsniff repeated as he wrote in his clipboard, "Hearing people scream in terror is fun to you?"

"A lot of things are fun for me," Dot said, shifting her gaze over towards the body bags littered on the floor. She counted them, trying to think back and figure out if she was the one who brought them towards their fate. She couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as she scanned and assessed her damage. "I guess the screaming makes it worthwhile. Makes up for it."

That last line caused the psychiatrist's radar to go off. He observed the young toon. "Let's unpack that"--

Before he could finish his sentence, Wakko pulled out a giant suitcase filled with unfolded clothes and threw it in the space in front of him. It bounced on the red carpet before it burst open, sending clothes and socks flying all over the office. Wakko laughed in his seat, leaning into his brother's side as he caught sight of the dirty gym sock on Scratchnsniff's bald head.

"Very funny, Wakko," the doctor said, picking the sock off his head as he assessed the mess before him. He decided to not reward Wakko with a reaction and focused on the youngest Warner. "Dot, you said that it makes up for it. You wanna explain what that means to you?"

Dot drew a small heart on the window, "No."

Scratchnsniff nodded and read over the notes he had written down. The behaviors that he could observe in the Warners, aside from the deflecting and ignoring, made sense to him. Given the Warner's background, revenge was highly motivated. Scratchnsniff warned Plotz about it before they were locked away, but Plotz, like most CEO's, didn't care about the psychological aftermath. That's what he was for, right?

When he looked up from his clipboard, the Warner brothers were nowhere in sight. Scratchnsniff felt a slight panic rise inside him but was immediately relieved when he spotted the Warners huddled against the windows. He had almost forgotten how sneaky they could be. "Hey, let's go back to our seats now."

Yakko gave him a once over, ignoring the instructions the psychiatrist presented to him. He wasn't going to listen to someone who's never listened to him. After years of trying to communicate with him, Yakko never once felt heard. All Scratchnsniff would do was diagnose them with crazy illnesses, as if labeling their experiences would fix the problem. If Scratchy wanted to diagnose them with insanity, then he was going to give him a reason to.

Rubbing his bald head, Scratchnsniff tried to think of something different. "Heloise, was she fun?" That seemed to get the Warner's attention. He noticed Wakko perk his ears up at his voice, nodding his head as he kept his gaze towards the public outside. "What happened?"

"Well," Yakko began. "We knew she was hot, but damn, was she smoking." He clicked his tongue, hearing his siblings giggle next to him. However, the man before him had a different look on his face. "What? You wanna dig through our brains, expect to find a few shits and giggles."

"So based on what I just got from you three: You like inflicting pain."

The three Warners said nothing as they continued to ignore him and focus their attention on sight within the window instead. They waved and pointed at the people below. Scratchnsniff could hear the small talk between them, but it wasn't loud enough for him to make out the words. He sighed.

"What's wrong, Scratchy, getting irritated?" Yakko mocked as he looked at the man sitting on his sofa. "Go ahead, write it in your little note. Prescribe some more multivitamins and make us better."

"I'm not getting irritated at all," Scratchnsniff replied back his tone calm and steady. He chose to ignore the last bit, thinking he'd save it for later. There were more immediate things he needed to resolve at the moment. Scratchnsniff smiled.

There was something about that smile that pissed Yakko off. He raised a brow as he looked the psychiatrist up and down. In a normal session, the Warners would have driven this man insane. Yakko was surprised nothing had happened in the room- yet.

"Come sit down."

"No," Wakko said. "We like it here."

"Maybe we can compromise then, why don't you three"-

Yakko scoffed and turned away from the window, facing the psychiatrist in the chair. "Don't propose a compromise when you can't come to one."

Dot nodded her head, "Yeah, you want to meet us in the middle? We do it our way." She backed away from the window and pulled on the rope that hung beside the blinds. She aggressively pulled them down and let the blind rack slam down onto the window sill. She ran her dirty gloves over the blinds and closed them.

The sound made Scratchnsniff slightly jump, but he made sure to keep himself grounded. The Warners were obviously not in the correct headspace right now and were detoxing from their medications. Scratchnsniff wasn't that surprised to know that the Warners had gotten loose. It was only a matter of time before that happened and Scratchnsniff just wished he wasn't alive to deal with it.

But here he was, 27 years later, still kicking.

The room filled with a heavy silence as the Warner siblings made their way towards the doctor. Instead of sitting down on the purple sofa that held many memories, the Warners decided to remain standing beside the couch. As long as they weren't being too much to handle, leaving them standing in front of him was fine.

"You aren't scared?" Dot asked as she stepped forward and grabbed the clipboard out of Scratchnsniff's hands. She flipped through the pages, surprised to see note after note that classified her as clinically impaired. "Is this all we are to you?"

Snatching the clipboard out of her hand wasn't the best idea that came to the psychiatrist's hand. He gently extended his arm out and gestured for her to place the clipboard in his hands. Patients could see what he wrote on them, but only if they asked. Last he checked, Dot didn't ask.

"Let me see that," Yakko said, snatching it out of his sister's hands. He scanned the psychiatrist's sloppy writing and felt himself get upset. "Don't you ever feel like a fraud?"

"A fraud? Why would you say that?"

"You're only solution for us is getting us high on sedatives? You can't think of one other way that could help us?" Yakkoscanned over the various prescription that decorated the page. 

Scratchnsniff raised his hands in defense, "I tried every method and assessment out there to try to give you the best care possible but we both know that didn't get us anywhere."

"Ever think it didn't get us anywhere because you aren't a good P-Sychiatist?" Yakko shot back. He grabbed the papers from the clipboard and pulled them away. Feeling them crumple in his hands was an amazon feeling, but it did nothing to satisfy the frustrations that he's held on to for so long. Scratchnsniff doesn't know what it feels like to be a lost cause.

"I trust my medical and psychological judgment."

"You do?" Wakko said, hopping onto the couch and laying himself down. "Then let's try it again! Hi, I'm Wakko Warner. I'm here because I was fucked over by the studio I was ironically named after."

"My turn!" Dot said as she laid next to her brother, "I'm Dot! The creators were probably sexist because they named me after the literal dot found on the Warner Brothers Logo and painted me off to be the annoying stuck-up little sister when we all know that title goes to Yakko.!"

Scratchnsniff instinctively looked over at Yakko, waiting for him to add his own performance. However, Yakko only stood there, staring at the crumpled papers in his hand. The psychiatrist didn't say anything, choosing to patiently wait for Yakko to speak. 

But Yakko remained quiet, which was a trait unfamiliar to him. He was trying to understand why Scratchnsniff decided to put them on hard drugs as soon as they made the executive decision to lock them back up again. Why not put them on before?

"Yakko?" Scratchnsniff asked, setting his hands down by his lap. "Something on your mind?"

The urge to reply with: "Yeah, my ears," was strong.

"Here, come sit next to your siblings."

"What is this?" Yakko suddenly asked as he threw a sheet of paper on the floor. Yakko didn't understand why Scratchnsniff would think that the only solution for them was isolation. As he watched the paper drift towards the ground, he scoffed. "What are you trying to get at? What is that?"

Scratchnsniff looked down at the document and frowned. He didn't realize that the paper wasn't yet filed. It only goes to show how little he truly cared about their case. On the gray tiled floor, laid a document that Scratchnsniff wrote up a long time ago. Way before the Warners were taken to the tower for good. It had been the second to last season, and Plotz was on Scratchnsniff's ass about the Warners. It was understandable that the trio of siblings wasn't to be trusted to live in toon town after the show ended, and they couldn't let them roam free. Plotz made sure to communicate that those options were out the window and it was up to Scratchnsniff to figure out a middle ground that would benefit them all. (And by all, no, that didn't include the Warners.) 

It had been Scratchnsniff who proposed the idea to Plotz, and the idea was all in writing. On that crinkled old paper, stood the words that would seal the Warners fate.

"Do you expect us to take you seriously after you hid us under the rug for the better part of 27 years? It was you! Acting all therapeutically now won't get you anywhere!" He was yelling now. Yakko didn't realize the increase in his volume until the silence of the room came back hard.

His siblings looked at Scratchnsniff and nodded.

"You want us to sit here and tell you our dirty little secrets?" Yakko scoffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You want to know why we did what we did to Ralph and Heloise? It's the same reason we're going to do it to you." Yakko swiftly reached down onto the wooden coffee table that stood between the couches and grabbed one of the wooden coasters. He threw it like a frisbee towards Scratchnsniff and hit him in the nose. He could see the blood trickle down one of his nostrils as the psychiatrist cupped his face.

"You think it's easy, getting high on whatever this fucking shit is"-- Yakko reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of pills and medication bottles he stole from Austin's bag before they left. He threw them onto the floor, causing them to scatter and bounce rapidly before settling down. "- is okay?"

Seeing the eldest Warner approach him, Scratchnsniff remained in his seat. His nose hurt like a bitch, but he was determined to remain cool, calm, and collected. If the Warners sensed any kind of fear or uneasiness, they'd be sure to attack.

"Did you get the fame you wanted?" Dot asked, innocently swinging her feet off the couch she sat on.

"What fame?" Scratchnsniff replied with genuine confusion.

"Oh please," Yakko said as he waved his arm out in front of him. "I can already see it now- I bet you have it framed and hung in your room! P-Sychiatrist! Successfully handles Demented Toons!" He laughed, thinking about the recognition Scratchnsniff undeservingly received.

"And with us now," Wakko said as he jumped on the couch and used his hands to make the statement, "Burbank P-sychiatrist saved the Lot! The toons were no match!"

Scratchnsniff looked at the siblings and shook his head, "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"I don't think-- I know you are," Yakko answered, grabbing the fallen notes and throwing them at the doctor in front of him, "You're just using us, just like everyone else in the damn lot."

"You think we're using you?"

Yakko looked at the psychiatrist as if he were the biggest idiot in the world. Was he really asking him these questions? What, did he think he was stupid? "They must have locked you up somewhere too; if you're asking us that question."

"I'm just curious." Scratchnsniff gave them zero indication of emotions. He kept his voice calm and neutral.

"You're an idiot," Yakko shot back as he looked out the window. He could see the shadows of people against the firelight. He wasn't sure why he wasn't reacting. Yakko told himself that he'd kill the doctor the first chance he got, but here he was, standing in his office. Like an idiot himself.

"I'm sensing a lot of frustration in your tone. Are you frustrated, Yakko?"

Dot looked at her brother, who was practically fuming at his ears. She didn't like how oblivious Scratchnsniff was acting towards him. "Aren't you supposed to be telling him? You're the p-sychiatrist, are you not?"

Scratchnsniff didn't respond. He looked over at Yakko and wiped his nose on his sleeve. It had stopped bleeding but he knew he would wake up with a bruise in the morning.

"Answer the question, Scratchy. Are you a p-sychiatrist, or not?" Wakko asked, supporting his sister's question.

"I am. But I don't see the point in having to prove it to you three. I simply do what I think is best with my clients."

"Can you stop doing that!?" Yakko yelled, continuing to face the window. 

Yakko's outburst caused the psychiatrist to jump. He looked at Yakko, who had this animalistic glint in his eyes, almost as if he wasn't there. He took a deep breath, "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes!" Yakko repeated, finally grabbing his ax from his hammerspace but making no attempts to move towards the man. He gripped the edge of the couch's armrest and leaned forward. "Stop doing it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

As Yakko repeated the phrase, Scratchnsniff held his hands up in front of him, showing him that he wasn't doing anything to hurt him. "Stop what, Yakko?" he gently repeated over the toon's words. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?!" Yakko felt his claws rip the fabric, "So now you wanna worry about comfort levels? Where was that energy when we were taken away, huh?" Yakko's grip on the ax tightened around his fingers. He had to do it soon. "You took us away. You gave him the go-ahead."

"The go-ahead?" Scratchnsniff replied. He knew exactly what Yakko was talking about, but years spent handling crises, it was worth playing stupid sometimes. 

"We asked for your help. We tried our damn hardest but what did you expect us to do when you're created to fuck it up! As a p-sychiastrist, you should have been the first to realize that! But no, you left us anyway?! Remember that?!" Yakko couldn't help but laugh at the memory. He gripped his ax handle and swung it in his hands. "You told Plotz we weren't going to be able to function in society because we were too zany to handle- So locking us in a cage was your best bet!?"

Scratchnsniff did recall the conversation. 

"Yeah, it was," Yakko continued. "So fuck you."

"Yakko, You sound upset over my clinical evaluation"-

-"Shut up!" Yakko shouted at him, grabbing his makeshift ax and slashing the psychiatrist's button-up across the chest. "Stop talking like that. Stop talking like you think you're better than us. You're not!" A part of Yakko was relieved that he was finally finding the strength to hurt him. Maybe it was the last glint of hope that Scratchsnsniff could make things better, he did have the final word after all when it came to their situation. But it was clear that his opinion wasn't changing anytime soon. 

"I'm not?" Scratchnsniff didn't intend to sound snarky, but he regretted asking as soon as those words left his mouth.

"No!" Yakko shouted back, feeling his heart race in his chest. "You fucked us over! You convinced him! You're not better than he is!"

Scratchnsniff was beginning to get a bit nervous. The eldest Warner was escalating, and he knew what his crisis looked like. He wasn't looking forward to seeing it. "I see," he said, as calmly as he could. "I'll keep quiet, but I need you to sit back down."

"So now you're telling us what to do?" Dot said with a laugh. "But you said we were uncontrollable!"

"Incurable. Imagine telling someone you're incurable. That made it to the show, didn't it?" Yakko said without attempting to sit back down on the couch. "What were the meds for?" His voice was unnervingly calm. Something about it was reminiscent of his usual voice, the one he would use for an audience. But there wasn't any audience around aside from the doctor sitting in front of them.

It scared the doctor to see Yakko's tone of voice fluctuate with such ease. He cleared his throat and looked down at his chest, grabbing the ripped shirt and clutching it close to his body. At least Yakko didn't get his skin. That wouldn't have been good.

"Do you not have an answer?" Wakko asked. He was still laying down on the couch, balancing his crowbar on the tip of his nose as he spoke. "You prescribed it, didn't you? You had to have a reason."

This was the part where Scratchnsniff was beginning to feel the unease in his chest. Telling the Warners about his reasoning about the medication might prove to be a bit difficult, given they were hitting the nail on the head. Scatchnsniff gave the Warners the toon sedatives to keep them under control and ensure the safety of other Warner Brothers employees. Seeing as the Warners were off of the medication, it was proving his point. "I thought it would help you relax in the tower. I know how stressful it can be to be under such conditions."

Yakko gave the psychiatrist a snark laugh, "So drugging us was much more plausible than advocating for our needs? Good to know."

"My patients always come first, Yakko, you know this."

"I do? Since when?"

"Since always."

It was Wakko's turn to laugh, "Oh yeah! Telling the entire studio that you're too far gone and drugging them senseless, is how I show my affection too!"

Dot observed the psychiatrist's subtle movements. She picked up on the fidgeting of his shirt and his constant check on his nose. "You still think we're crazy, don't you?"

"Aw," Yakko chuckled. He hid his face in his arm, and Scratchnsniff could see Yakko's silhouette's shoulders bounce up and down with every laugh he took. "You thought we'd go insane!" Yakko was laughing hard now. He pulled his head off his shoulders and threw it up in the air before catching it with his free hand.

Wakko wanted to join in on the fun. He hopped out of his sofa and used his tail as a spring, bouncing around the seated psychiatrist.

It was unsettling how the Warners energy picked up. They really did feed off of each other's energies, which was a problem when they weren't in the best moods. The doctor watched as Wakko jumped and hopped around him, holding his hands out awkwardly to make it stop.

"What's wrong?" Yakko asked, reaching for the couch and spinning him around in his chair. Yakko came nose to nose with the doctor and smiled, showing off the fangs in his mouth. "You think we're totally insane-y now, huh?"

"No," Scratchnsniff said as he calmly prompted Yakko to stop spinning him around. "But I think I know you're under a lot of stress right now and"- His words weren't able to leave his mouth when he felt Yakko shove something inside.

The eldest Warner gave the psychiatrist no time to react as he grabbed his nose and forced him to swallow the two pills he scooped up from the floor. He smiled as he watched the realization in Scratchnsniff's set. "You want to experience stress? Why don't I put you in my shoes for a change."

Scratchnsniff instinctively pushed Yakko away and shoved fingers into his mouth in an attempt to purge them out, but Wakko grabbed his hands and held them close against the chair.

"Laugh at us now," Yakko said as he watched the medication start to take its effect. "You thought we didn't see it. That shit-eating grin you had on that day. I know why you aren't surprised to see us."

In an instant, Scratchnsniff felt like he was 10 pounds lighter. He felt more agile and limber as he fought against Wakko's strong grip on his arm.

"My siblings and I suffered for far too long. You knew what the side effects were but that wasn't a problem you had to face. But don't worry, I'll give you a little sneak peek. As a matter of fact"- Yakko grabbed Scratchnsniff's nose and pulled it up, causing the psychiatrist's mouth to open. He scooped up a handful of pills and solved them down his throat before grabbing the prescription bottle from his hammerspace, forcing them down Scratchnsniff's throat. "Why don't we just give you a whole show?!"

Scratchnsniff coughed loudly as the dry tablets slid uncomfortably down his esophagus. He wasn't supposed to consume them. These medications weren't meant for humans, the effects were far too strong for any person to handle them well. Scratchnsniff prescribed them an altered derivative of Rohypnol, one of the strongest sedatives he could get his hands on. He thought that it would help the Warners overcome such adverse living conditions if they were asleep or in a relaxed state of mind, but he was wrong. As the medication began taking its toll, he quickly realized how wrong he was.

Aside from the floating sensation in his body, Scratchnsniff was hyper-aware of every limb in his body. His fingers that rested against the soft couch could feel every string of fabric that it grazed. His clothes were rough against his skin. The doctor looked down at his torn shirt and mindlessly gazed upon the broken fabric. He could feel each toe on his feet enclosed by his leather shoes and he hated it. Scratchnsniff never realized how much he hated the sensation of being touched.

"Talk us through it, Scratchy," Dot said, hopping off the couch and standing next to her brother. She giggled, looking down at the psychiatrist. "What are you feeling right now?"

Scratchnsniff looked at the young toon and gave her a weak shrug, cringing in the sensation of his shoulders moving up and down. He just wanted to stay still and feel nothing around him. Everything felt so sharp and grim against his old skin- it was agonizing.

"Doesn't feel so hot, does it?" Wakko said as he poked the psychiatrist's arm, causing him to jerk it back.

"This was your idea of helping?" Yakko asked as he poked Scratchnsniff's other arm, inflicting severe pain towards him. He laughed, watching the doctor squirm in pain with every small touch and sensation. He didn't even need to use his ax on him with the way Scratchnsniff was suffering.

Feeling the abrasive sensation of needles with every shift he made, Scratchnsniff began crying out in pain. However, when he attempted to lift his arm to push Wakko away, he found it was glued to the table. He turned his head, slower than he would have liked, and felt panic overtake him. He couldn't move. He felt his vision begin to blur-but not in the blind sense. He took in his surroundings, finding everything moving up and down, swaying side to side. He wasn't sure if this was a side effect from the medication or his own inner panic. Whatever it was, the doctor didn't like it.

Scratchnsniff shifted his head, feeling like he was stuck in a bowl of jelly. Everything toppled around him to the point where he even felt the wave. He looked down at his hand and saw each finger sway and expand. Scratchnsniff blinked hard, trying to snap out of the entranced state but his brain was too far gone by this point.

He tried to open his mouth, but his brain was working in slow motion, and everything began to move in waves. He felt a heavy sense of ease as he leaned back into his chair. Numb wouldn't be the word for it, but he wouldn't be opposed to using it to describe his state at the moment.

The ground moved beneath him- or so he thought- and Scratchnsniff felt himself start to smile. The sound of the clock ticking felt like nails on a chalkboard inside his ringing ears. He felt his muscles relax on their own as he sank into his sofa.

"Isn't it a great state of mind? Yakko whispered into his ear, "The taste of your own medicine sure is bitter, isn't it?"

Dot laughed as she walked over towards the slumped-over psychiatrist. All Scratchsniff could do was groan, causing Dot to laugh. "Aw, look at him. He's cute when he's high on our meds."

"That's what you wanted for us, Scratchy? You wanted to see us like that?!" Yakko's tone was elevated, but controlled. "But hey, you probably needed these med's just as much as we did."

Wakko stood in front of the psychiatrist and nodded, "You're just as crazy as we were if you thought this idea would work. So we hope you enjoy them!"

Scratchnsniff looked at Wakko, his faded ink and hole in the middle of his body causing chills to run up his spine. He tried to move his hand, but it felt so heavy. He was glued to his seat, and there wasn't much he could do about it. His vision soon shifted into an array of colors that danced before him. He saw swirls of purple, yellow, green, and pink expand over the scenery in front of him. He couldn't feel himself turning his head, but he could see items shift and glitch out in front of him, changing and unchanging back and forth. He looked at the youngest Warner, whose dried-up flower looked too big for her head. Her pink skirt was too vibrant and her voice felt like it could make his ears bleed.

"For a second there, we actually believed we were crazy," she said, spinning the doctor around to face her. "We thought we deserved this but you know what, Scratchy?"

Scratchsniff didn't respond. His brain was having trouble thinking of the correct words to say.

Dot laughed at the sight. "The medication did us a favor. It helped us realize that no one deserved to go through what we did."

Yakko used his ax to lift Scratchsniff's chin up, "It makes me wonder: what really goes on inside that big brain of yours? What caused you to think that this was the best course of action?"

"We know we're replaceable," Dot said, adjusting her dead flower on her head, "but you didn't have to try to kill us off that way. Just because Dip wasn't doable, doesn't mean drug abuse was the way to go. Look where that led."

Wakko hopped over next to his siblings and chuckled, "Now you're drooling all over your broken shirt and you have no way to defend yourself. Is that really fair? It's humiliating, isn't it?"

"Fair?" Yakko responded with a scoff, "Seeing the damage that you've done, I'm sure that's an unfamiliar term to you, isn't it?"

Scratchnsniff tried to lift a finger, but all he managed was a twitch. He didn't know what to do at this point. While he seemed relaxed and high off his ass on the outside, he was having a pretty bad trip on the inside. Scratchnsniff followed the Warners movement with his eyes, trying his best to figure out what was going on.

"You probably thought it would be much better to keep us on a low since no one could handle our highs. You gave us whatever the fuck that is," Yakko said gesturing towards the psychiatrist wasted on the couch, "to keep us controlled because you didn't know how to do your own job."

Wakko nodded his head, "So to answer the question for you; since you got it wrong the first time: no, we don't trust your medical judgment at all." Wakko poked the psychiatrist's long nose and shook his head in disappointment.

"We're an animator's despair and the studio's worst nightmare," Yakko said as he got behind the couch.

Fear shot up Scratchsniff's spine when the eldest Warner left his sight. With all the medication he was under, he felt trapped inside the shell of his own body. He desperately tried to connect his brain to his limbs, attempting to lift his arm and turn around, but nothing happened. There was nothing he could do to regain that control.

"We're the reason insurance exists. Bet that'll come in handy now, huh?" Yakko asked.

There was no knowing the Warners- Scratchsniff knew that better than anyone else in the studio. He wasn't sure what was going on around him and he wasn't happy to find out. The sensation of the sofa he was on reclining back startled him. He felt his body dramatically shift down, feeling that odd sensation in his stomach.

"Maybe they can pay off the procedure," Yakko said as he grabbed gloves out of his hammerspace. "You aren't allergic to latex, are you?"

Scratchnsniff desperately wanted to turn his head to see what the eldest Warner was up to behind him. He didn't like the sound of his voice or the question that he decided to ask. What did Yakko intend to do with the gloves?

Dot laughed as she grabbed the rope and swung herself towards the armrest. She placed Scratchansniff's arm neatly across the cushioned armrest and tied the rope around it. She tugged on the rope, more aggressively than she needed to, to make sure it was secured. She chuckled at Scratchnsniff's pain-stricken eyes. She did the same to the other arm and both of his legs. Out of courtesy, she gently buttoned up the shirt her brother had slashed open and patted his chest. "There, I fixed it for you. You should be thankful."

But Scratchnsniff was far from it. He could make out her form as she walked around him, securing him in place. While his anxiety levels were high, he couldn't help but smile. Everything around him became slightly humorous, even the way the fan slowly rotated above him. It was alarming- but for a medication that is supposed to reduce a toon's zaniness, he wasn't surprised. His small fit of hysteria only lasted for a few minutes until he crashed back down towards his pain.

"I don't think he looks too good," Wakko said as he spun into an outfit he's been waiting to try on.

Yakko smiled as he did the same, "I think you're right, Wakko. I think we should have a look." Yakko placed his hands on the psychiatrist's reclined shoulders and patted them. "Are you comfortable, Scratchy?"

Scratchnsniff tried to shake his head no but to no avail. He simply gave him a weak groan.

"Oh, what's that?" Yakko said as he leaned in closer with his hand around his ear, "You said you were? Great!"

Dot cleared her throat, smoothing out her white coat, "Hello, Doctor. Hello, Doctor."

"Hellooo Doctor!" Her brothers called out as she frized up a giant light and shone it over Scratchnsniff's large head. "Hey, at least you're bald."

Yakko looked over towards his brother, who held an array of medical instruments in his hands. He wasn't sure where he got them from, but they looked real. He took a scalpel and ran his fingers over the blade, "Hm, that'll do."

As the psychiatrist sat in the chair, he could hear the commotions going on behind him clearly. If the Warners were going to do what he thought they were going to do, he wasn't getting out of it. While death wasn't an unfamiliar topic, he didn't want to meet his fate so soon. He tried to call out towards the Warners, but the sedative was working strongly against him, pushing down any attempt to recoil and fight back.

The youngest Warner poked her head around to face the psychiatrist, "Shh, don't make too much noise, the doctors are talking."

"I know you can hear us, Scratchy," Yakko said as he massaged the man's shoulders. "I know you can feel every single wisp of wind that flows through this office and taste every tooth in your mouth. Bet it's not a fun experience, is it?"

Scratchnsniff gave the Warners a weak moan in response.

"I bet you already knew that, though, didn't you?" Wakko asked. "So then, that just begs the question:"

"Why did you do it?" Yakko finished off. "As a p-sychiatrist, you must have known that filling us up with such chemicals would do us more harm than good, right?" You must have known about the pain it inflicts. So, what went through your mind to make you think that drugging the Warners was the best call?"

"You always tell us the mind works in mysterious ways," Wakko said as he stepped back to let his brother step forward. "So let's find out what went inside yours."

Yakko looked down at the sedated psychiatrist and smiled down at him. He gave him a sweet wave before extending his hand out towards his brother. "Marker."

"Marker," Wakko repeated, handing Yakko a black expo.

As carefully as he could, Yakko began to draw a dotted line around the wide circumference of the doctor's head. He's never done it before, but Yakko's watched enough medical documentaries and experimental experiments to know what the lines should resemble.

Feeling the cold ink run against his skin was agonizing. Scratchnsniff wished he could move because then he'd be able to run out the door and lock them inside. He wasn't ready for it.

Tossing the marker aside, Yakko extended his hand out. "Scalpel."

"Scalpel," Wakko repeated as he gave his older brother the tools.

Yakko grabbed the scalpel and flipped it in his hand. He gestured for his sister to adjust the lamp over his head and took a breath. This was the moment he's been waiting for. Scratchnsniff has been digging through their brains for years on end. It was time for the Warners to return the favor.

Yakko ran the sharp edge of the knife down the black dotted lines. He could feel the psychiatrist flinch under him with his groans of pain entering his ears. He paid them no mind as he continued to cut.

Wakko watched as the blood quickly began to trickle and pool around his brother's feet. He smiled, watching Yakko work his magic and neatly cut through every layer of skin on the man's head. He patiently awaited his turn.

"I think you hit bone," Dot mentioned as she shifted her gaze onto the psychiatrist's face. She used her gloved hands to wipe away the blood that dripped down his forehead and cheeks. "See, this isn't so bad, is it?"

The waves of pain caused Scratchnsniff to see spots of red and black. He tried to scream in pain but the only sounds he managed to make were nothing above a weak whimper. He wished he'd pass out from the pain, but the sedatives weren't letting him. He was still hyper-aware of it all.

"You think the skin would peel off smooth?" Yakko asked aloud to no one in particular. Before either of his siblings had a chance to answer that question, he grabbed one of the flaps of loose skin and began to pull it back.

The wet sound of the skin being separated from the bone filled everyone's ears. Scratchnsniff could feel the intense pressure and cold air hit him as if someone had placed an ice bag on top of his head. He felt Yakko knock on his skull with the instrument in his hand.

"Well, Wakko, this is all you," Yakko said.

With his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, Wakko stepped up to the plate. He nodded to his brother as he put on a straight face and assessed his canvas. He looked at all the fissures in the bone, tracing his finger along each crack and bump. Without a second thought, Wakko reached into his hammerspace and pulled out his chainsaw.

Dot smiled, fritzing up some goggles and putting them over her eyes. She knew this would get messy.

Wakko revved up the machine and cleared his throat. He knew the machine would be too big for its intended purposes, but Wakko had to work with what he had. He stepped back and aimed the tip of the running blade over one of the cracks along the bone. He gently placed it down and began sawing his way through.

Now, Scratchnsniff was begging to float in and out of consciousness. He felt his eyes get heavy and his heartbeat start to slow.

Dot reached down and placed her blood-stained glove under the doctor's nose. She had to make sure he was still breathing. She didn't need him to leave them so soon.

Wakko was proud of his work. He threw the chainsaw to the side and wiped up the shards of bone from the scalp. He gently grabbed a piece and slowly began to pull them off. Each bone popped off with suction to reveal the bright pink organ underneath. Wakko was excited to see it. He's never seen a real brain before and now was his chance. He admired the complex pattern as he took a step back, reintroducing his brother back in his place.

"Poke it," Dot said, reaching out to try to poke it herself. Seeing her brother give her the go-ahead, she stepped in and began touching various parts of the pink organ. She chuckled when she saw Scratchnsniff provide a physical reaction to each impact. It only caused her to poke it more, harder in some areas than others.

She could see Scratchnsniff violently move his arm up as she poked the side, and jerk his feet when she poked the other. Because his limbs were securely tied around the couch, he only managed to twitch violently in place, the rope catching each movement. Dot invited her brothers to join in.

Yakko and Wakko poked and rubbed various areas, experimenting with the psychiatrist's motor function. The boys laughed, listening to the agonizing moans coming from their patient.

Scratchnsniff had no control over his body anymore. The Warners were messing with his mind- literally. He felt the rope burn against his skin each time his limbs decided to jerk and twitch. Some movements were subtle, but others were violent. If it weren't for the rope around his arm, he was sure his shoulder would have dislocated by now.

"Alight, sibs," Yakko said as he held his hands up, causing his siblings to step back. "Let's see what his unconscious holds." The eldest Warner looked down at the brain and assessed his playing field. He wasn't sure where to start, but he figured it didn't matter. "So, Scratchy, how are you feeling right now?" Yakko asked, reaching in and digging his fingers inside the squiggly membrane.

The psychiatrist didn't respond, but Yakko didn't care. He continued to ask him questions.

"I hope you're having as much fun as we are," Yakko said, grabbing a small tripe of the psychiatrist's brain as he began to pull. He tugged on the pink flesh; it was stiffer than what he imagined. "I hope this helps you learn your lesson."

"That you aren't a good p-sychiatrist." Dot said, watching his brother pull the doctor's brain apart. "But hey, at least now you can mark us down as insane."

"Are we the craziest toon's you've ever dealt with, Scratchy?" Wakko asked. "Or are we the best?"

"My money's on the best," Yakko replied as he unwinded the organ. "Maybe you were just saving us for later- like how kids save up their favorite candy for too long, that by the time they muster up the courage to eat it, it's already spoiled and rotten."

Dot nodded her head, shifting the light over towards her brother, who was now grabbing on the rope of flesh with both hands, pulling and tugging it apart.

Yakko pulled and pulled, watching the brain get smaller and twist every which way. It reminded him of a ball of string, becoming smaller the more he removed. He tossed some of the loose brain-rope over the psychiatrist's head, wiping his hands on his white coat to get a better grip. "No wonder your head is so big," Yakko said, wiping the sweat off his fur, "You sure have a lot of brain matter."

"Your brain is that big, and you still manage to fuck us over," Yakko mumbled as he picked up where he left off. He could hear his siblings laugh beside him, which caused him to join in. Their laughter was contagious.

Scratchnsniff had died a long time ago. The Warners were now playing with his dead cadaver, dissecting his mind for the thrill. Even in his last moments, Scratchnsniff didn't regret the decisions he had made. The Warners were incurable, uncontrollable, and demented- that he was sure of. They never lasted long in the water tower anyways, so sedating them was the only logical solution. Besides, even if the effects of the drug were strong, the Warners have caused enough pain to people. They deserved it.

"Now you can't live to treat another toon on the lot," Wakko said, jumping over towards the other side of the reclined sofa chair to look Scratchnsniff in the face. "You won't live to hurt us anymore."

Dot let go of the lamp, causing it to topple over and crash onto the floor. It shattered and sent small shards of glass flying into the air. "Oops," was all she said.

The three siblings stepped back from Scratchnsniff's body, readjusting the sofa back to its regular position. It sent Scratchnsniff's limp body to fall forward with his brains dangling out of his head.

Wakko picked up the bones and shoved them into his hammerspace. He wanted something to keep as a trophy, and what better trophy than that of his psychiatrist.

"He looks so peaceful," Dot said, looking at the dead doctor. "Should we untie him? I'm sure he doesn't plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

Yakko shook his head. "No, let him stay restrained. He doesn't deserve freedom."

With a nod, Dot stepped towards the cadaver and smiled. She poked his long nose and brushed the dangling brains away from his face and behind his ear. "Maybe in your next life, you'll learn what it means to treat your patients with respect."

'Yeah, maybe," Yakko replied as he shifted his gaze towards the window. Their job wasn't quite over yet.

The Warners have never felt anything after leaving Scratchnsniff's office. After every therapy session they had, they were left unchanged and unmoved. But now, as the Warners stared down at their medical intake, they felt more alive than ever. Maybe that was what therapy was supposed to feel like.

But they wouldn't know, now would they?

Chapter Text

"I don't see any sign of them," a voice coming from the doorway said. "We tried to radio the head psychiatrist, but he's not picking up. He does have a radio, right?"

Plotz looked at his employee. He wore the same jacket his late worker had on earlier today, which did nothing to ease his stress. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt towards his deceased employee, especially since it was getting harder to overlook the details. "No," Plotz finally said. "Scratchnsniff doesn't carry any radio. Did you try the phone?"

There was a sigh that didn't need to be looked at to know a frown followed, "Phone lines down."

Of course the phone line's now, Plotz thought as he fiddled with his tie under his desk. There had to be something he could do. He already went through the agony of the waiting game once today, only to be left disappointed it it's outcome. "Is there any other way to contact him?"

"That's what I came here to ask you," the man replied. "Figured as CEO, you'd have other methods?"

"What other methods could you have possibly thought of?!" Plotz asked, aggressively. "You think I have some magical teleportation device? A mind reader? If the phone lines down then we're screwed!"

The man blinked and raised his hands in defense. "I was just asking"-

"Well stop asking and do something for once in your goddamn life! My Studio isn't looking too hot right now, is it?!"

With a shaky hand, Plotz wiped the sweat from his brows. His resources were growing thin- he was beginning to realize that he had no one left to place the blame on. Speilburg was away on vacation, and even if he was present, he probably would have done the same, right?

"We got the fires under control but it's still spreading"-

"Fire?" Unlike the flames, Plotz felt his blood run cold.

The WB employee looked at his boss in confusion. "Yeah, the fires. The ones that started in the building Nurse Heloise went into?" The look on his boss's face made him regret saying that. "You didn't know?"

Fuck. Plotz wasn't aware of any fires. He didn't even hear the sirens from the firetrucks until now— Guess he wasn't actively paying attention to it. So much has happened in the past two hours that everything was beginning to register as background noise. But how could he have missed such a sound?

"Didn't you hear the fire trucks? They came about 45 minutes ago. We called them up as soon as he could but it was too late. The fire is still spreading throughout the lot, so the firemen came to help shut the gas pipes. We lost about 14 buildings."

Plotz could have sworn he smelled the smoke from his office. He didn't want to look out the window. "Where are the Warners?"

"A few of my coworkers saw them run into the psychiatrist's building."

"Figured. I called Scratchnsniff to let him know so he's got the protocol."

"Right," the man said, rubbing the back of his head. "But you see, as I said before: we can't get a hold of him." The man waited for Plotz to respond, but Plotz never did. "Sir, you need to tell us what to do, the Warners are amid a rampage, and you're just sitting here in your office. With all due respect, sir, please, open up your windows."

Plotz watched the WB employee leave his doorway. Hearing his steps down his hallway, Plotz sighed. With both his doctors and security guard gone, he was reaching the end of his rope. There was no one left to send out.

He pushed himself away from his desk and swirled his chair around to face the closed-off window. He closed the blinds the second he heard the Warners were on a hunt. There was already so much going on outside- he was sure of it. He would have gone out there, but It was too dangerous. With the Warners holding a target to his back and the amount of press he'd most likely encounter, it'd be better for him to remain behind closed doors.

His entire studio was up in flames. It didn't take a genius to know it would capture quite the audience. Then again, living in California, no one really bats an eye at rising flames.

A few deep breaths later and a flick of the lights to turn them off, Plotz mustered up enough courage to grab the rope that hung from the side of the blinds and pull them up. The glow from the fires entered his office. 

There wasn't a star in sight.

"Okay," he said to himself in an attempt to calm himself down. The sight of his studio lot bursting in flames wasn't the most relaxing sight to see when on the verge of a mental breakdown. The flashing red, blue, and white lights from law enforcement officers were blinding. Course, that could have been an excuse to avoid looking at them. He studied the scenery from the birds-eye view and felt the bitter taste of defeat enter him. Everything he's worked for was slowly disintegrating into ash right before his eyes. The cost of having to repair it all made his head ache with frustration. He wasn't going to be able to make ends meet for a while- not with props and sets destroyed in such magnitude.

However, seeing his life work fall and crumble, Plotz couldn't help but feel a spark of rage ignite. Seeing all his investment- his career- up in flames was infuriating. The Warners had no right to destroy him this way.

He looked at his desk and ran a shaky hand through his small patch of hair. He wasn't ready to go outside yet, but he didn't have a choice anymore. He's exhausted all his options and everyone he managed to send out on his behalf ended up dead. He didn't want to meet the same fate, but as CEO, Plotz needed to do something. It wouldn't look good on paper if he hid in his office the entire time.

It wasn't intentional that Plotz took his sweet time taking the stairs. He blamed the fire hazard, but in reality, he was trying to stall the time as best he could. The longer it takes him to leave, the more time he could enjoy the feeling of being alive.

Plotz had already accepted his fate.

"Plotz! Mr. Plotz! We're over here!" a lady called out as he stepped foot outside. He felt a cold wave of wind wash over him, flooding his ears and turning his cheeks and nose red- which was odd for a night in Burbank, California. The CEO looked over in that direction and waved his hand at the paramedic. He made his way over to her in a light jog.

"My scouts found a body inside the main building set on fire, but we aren't able to identify it. We were hoping you could help us."

Plotz felt his stomach churn with unease. He wasn't looking forward to seeing cadavers so late in the night. Granted, it was barely midnight.

"Sure," he said, his mind and body working on autopilot. "Where is it?"

The paramedic turned to her coworker and gave him a curt nod before leading Plotz over towards an isolated body bag. "Here, just as a warning: it's unidentifiable. So, it doesn't look much like a person anymore..." She nervously laughed as she reached for the black zipper.

Mentally, Plotz checked out after those words left her lips. He didn't even know why he agreed to look at the body. Plotz could just as easily have declined and passed it off to forensics, but something inside his mind told him he had to follow through. He had just stepped out into the ash-filled air a few seconds ago. Now he found himself in front of a duffle bag with human contents inside. It was all happening so fast. 

But besides all that, what didn't sit right with him was the fact that the paramedic used the term "unidentifiable"? How much harm could those toons cause to leave someone in that state?

"Okay, I'm going to open the bag now," the paramedic prompted.

Plotz watched the paramedic slowly unzip the blue bag. The smell of burnt flesh and hair rose into his nose, making his eyes water. He swallowed the vomit that threatened to raise down his throat and closed his eyes.

"Is this Heloise?" the paramedic asked, pulling down the flap. "We just want to make sure we tag her right."

Plotz was at a loss for words when he opened his eyes to take in the sight. As he looked down at the burnt body before him, Plotz felt his hands clench up to a fist. How could the Warners do something like this? She looked nothing like he remembered her. Her face was gone, sunken in, and burned. Patches of her uniform seeped into her skin, causing the rough fabric to merge with her torso and legs. Her hands were no longer delicate- they were a sickly sight.

"That's her," Plotz replied, recognizing the bracelet around what was left of her wrist.

The paramedic nodded her head and quickly sealed the Nurse back up. "I'm sorry for your loss. Her body will be going to forensics to input her files. She appeared to be a target staff."

Plotz raised an eyebrow, "A what?"

"A target staff: someone the Warners had it out for tonight."

"Oh," was all Plotz managed to say. He watched the lady roll her body into an ambulance and signal for the driver to leave. Plotz was about to ask the paramedic something, but a flashing light caught his eyes. He looked towards the gated entrance of the lot and saw a large crowd of people holding cameras, microphones, and lights. Plotz knew that the media would be a risk he'd encounter, so he hoped they got the good parts- if there were any.

"CEO Plotz!" One of the men standing near the front gate called out as he tried to call him over. He was standing behind the large iron divide, but that didn't seem to stop him.

Plotz quickly made his way over and tried his best to wave them off. He held his hands out to block the flashing cameras and pushed away the microphones shoved into his face. He didn't know why he thought approaching them would be the best course of action, but he figured that if they were to catch him on camera, he had to make an impression. Plotz didn't want to be known as the CEO who hid in his office the entire time.

"I'm busy right now," he lied, pushing away more lights, "Please, I need the area clear." That part wasn't a lie. Plotz did need the area cleared as soon as possible. With the Warners loose and on the edge of insanity, they could easily hide amongst the crowds, waiting for an opportunity to attack him. Or they could end up killing the press, which Plotz wouldn't have minded.

There were a series of questions thrown his way and he refused to answer any of them. The less invested he looks for the media, the more his 'Involved CEO' persona would jump to the forefront. Taking in the array of people, Plotz was surprised that the media had come to see what was going on. When there was smoking coming from California, no one bats an eye; but a movie lot and forest doesn't compare.

"I don't have the time to talk right now," Plotz told the people that were trying to approach him from behind the fence, "Move out of the way you can't be in here."

"Plotz, tell us, how did the Warners escape?"

"Did you know about their state before they were captured?"

"How many did they kill?"

"Did you know about"-

Plotz could hear the countless questions flood his ears alongside the commotion going on behind him. He looked over towards his people and back at the camera crew. "I need you all to leave, it's not safe!"

Right, safety. Because that sounds better than telling the media crew that he doesn't want his cowardness filmed on live television— he was going to be in headlines for days. More than he already was. Plotz could already envision the countless news articles and tv programs that would speak on his name if they ever find out that Warners were right? He did lose control. With everything going on around him, he knew that it probably wouldn't be a fun experience. Plotz lost almost half his crew and probably about a dozen of upcoming actors and stars. He wouldn't have enough fingers and toes to count how many body bags the paramedics accounted for-- let alone the injured.

Seeing the state of his nurse and security guard, Plotz was almost terrified to see his psychiatrist. There was never really knowing what the Warners were capable of anymore.

Plotz called over a few cops and told them to keep the paparazzi in place. They were going to be a slight inconvenience to have around when Plotz came face to face with the Warners. Which was something that he should have thought about before approaching the group of media public. But his ego was stronger- even amidst a crisis.

Making his way over towards the crowd of paramedics, Plotz let the cops do what they do best. He could see people running to and from the ambulance, grabbing IV's, bandages, and tags. He began to imagine what it would feel like to experience that fear. Coming to grips with his own mortality wasn't an easy pill to swallow. His mind burned with every possible scenario that could play out when he sees them. His mind always left him hanging on a thread of despair. He didn't want to die. Plotz never wanted to experience what it would be like to be a patient in such a state.

Meeting the Warners was inevitable at this point. The three siblings had it out for him. They didn't go through all the trouble of engaging in massacre and genocide for nothing. There was no going around the fact that the Warners were going to make their fun appearance sooner or later. If Plotz knew any better, he would have believed his downfall was all his fault.

Unfortunately for Plotz, he was stupid.

Besides, the Warners never meant to kill as many people as they intended— they came out to find Plotz. It was Plotz that made their job so much harder than it had to be because they were too much to deal with. The Warners cost more than they give so it made sense to Plotz. Apparently, he was wrong and it didn't help that the Warners held the whole "Go Big or Go Home" mentality.

"They were spotted there!" An officer shouted towards the paramedics. "We have sight on the girl!"

Plotz looked over towards the sealed-off window and scanned each frame that followed. The curtains were moving and shaking, causing Plotz to tense up in his place. It had to have been the air fan, Plot thought as he fixed his gaze on the moving curtains.

But air fans don't cause the curtains to slide open and blinds to snap up.

Plotz resisted the urge to run the second his mind registered the sight before him. He didn't want the Warners to spot him, but it was too late. He had already locked eyes with the Warners.

"I think they see you," the paramedic stated, giving Plotz a look. She could see the Warners faces creepily smooshed up against the window. The Warners quickly dispersed, leaving bloody handprints plastered onto the glass behind. The paramedic glanced at her crew, "Alright guys," she said, taking a step back, "Let's start moving!"

"You're leaving me?" Plotz frantically asked. "You can't just leave me!"

"We aren't leaving you. We're just making sure we cover all ground before the three of them get down here. We'll be here when you need us."

"When?" Plotz clarified, taking a deep breath.

The paramedic gave him a small smile. She looked down at her radio and cleared her throat. "Well, I'm going to head back to my crew now." She didn't want to be here when the Warners got to the ground floor. "We still have bodies we need to tag."

Watching the paramedic leave, Plotz sighed. He was about to be all alone with the Warners. No one was around to protect him anymore. Plotz reached the end of his line and it was time for him to step up and try to put a stop to this. He was responsible for the lot, and right now, with the lot up in flames, he wasn't doing a very good job. He took a few power breaths and clenched his hands to a fist. He couldn't show fear. When the Warners come down here, he had to be tough as nails and make sure they knew who was boss.

It wasn't going to be an easy feat given they already don't respect him. They didn't hesitate to kill off the woman of their dreams or the psychiatrist— which Plotz thought they had a good relationship with.

Guess he was wrong.

Though, Ralph wasn't much of a shocker. He was the only security guard on the lot that took the initiative when it came down to chasing the Warners. He was the only security guard that had the guts to face them every day. Ralph was always the main victim to their usual antics… and the sadistic ones. His guts were still swinging from the top of the water tower; tied to the railings up above. The pungent smell of decaying flesh was still in the air, mixed in with the smell of burning wood and hair. Plotz wasn't sure how there wasn't anyone gagging at the smell alone.

The sound of the heavy wooden doors slamming open caused the CEO to jump. He shifted his gaze over to see the three toons standing at the doorway, giving him a wave.

They looked straight out of a horror film. Their white gloves were now stained red with blood. Their clothes were charred and ripped up in all sorts of places. Their fur was a scattered mess, and it didn't help that parts of the Warners were practically transparent. Plotz could see right through Wakko.

But the most unsettling part of all, the detail that made Plotz's blood run cold, was the smile plastered on each of their faces. It wasn't their usual shit-eating grin, Plotz would have much preferred that. No, this was a grin of innocence; a smile that made them appear harmless. It was cute, yet terrifying.

Plotz didn't know what to grab. He placed his hands on his belt hoops in an attempt to look firm and authoritative as the Warners approached him. He had to stand his ground. No matter what— he had to stand his ground.

"Plotzy!"

The familiar voices flooded his ears as he looked at the children running towards him. That's when Plotz decided that his big and bad front wasn't going to work. He ran away as fast as his short legs could carry him. The sound of the Warners giggling and laughing behind him sounded louder and louder. He didn't think the Warners had that much energy left in them, but he was wrong.

He ran down the studio and reached for the door of his office building. Seeing that Heloise, Scratchnsniff, and Ralph died within four walls, Plotz should have thought twice before reaching for the door handle. However, Plotz found the doors to be locked and cursed himself as his trembling hands reached down towards his keys. It was as if the universe themselves was telling the CEO to stop.

The anxiety and adrenaline that coursed through his veins made it next to impossible to fish for the right key in the bunch. Plotz could hear the sound of the Warners getting louder and louder behind him, their footsteps loud and clear. He screamed in frustration as his fingers trembled through the chains. After what felt like hours, Plotz managed to open his door and sprint up the steps.

He looked back to see where the Warners were at but saw no signs of them. His heart raced in his ears as he caught his breath. The building was dark inside, he probably didn't realize the power had gone out. He looked around and saw the office building just as he had left it- intact. Plotz let out a sigh and rubbed his bald spot on his head.

If the Warners weren't in the building, where else could they be?

His question was answered as he turned back around to see the three siblings slide down the stair handlebar at the far end of the lobby room. It made Plotz's heart drop to his feet.

Yakko jumped into his arms first. With a wet kiss on his forehead, Plotz cringed and took a few steps back to regain his balance, but it was no use when he felt another pair of arms wrap around his neck from behind, pushing him in the opposite direction he was going in. He turned to see who it was, but with each spin he took, the clearer the giggling voice became. When did they get into the building?

"Get off me, Dot!" Plotz said as he made his way through the main lobby area. Upon reaching the wall, the CEO grabbed Dot's arms with his free hand and tried to peel her off. He could hear Yakko laughing in his arms.

She giggled and held on tighter, making sure to add a bit of pressure on the CEO's windpipes.

"Dot!" Plotz tried to choke out as he dropped the eldest Warner on the ground with a thud.

Yakko cringed in pain as he got back up, "That was a bit rude," he said, rubbing on the bottom of his pants.

"Wait for me!" Wakko said as he jumped up and sat on the CEO's head. He looked down and poked his nose with his dirty glove. "Hello!"

The Warners smelled disgusting. The sour smell of their fur mixed with the metallic scent of blood on their attire was not the best aroma to enter his nose. He held back a gag and shook the toons off of him.

Yakko aggressively tugged on Plotz's sleeve as Plotz tried to repel both his siblings off him. "Plotz, Plotz, Plotz, Plotz, Plot"—

The CEO didn't listen. Instead of looking at the talking toon, he continued to spin and reach out towards the two that were jumping all over him. With Dot choking him, it was a little hard to focus on anything else.

However, Yakko didn't give up. Even with the CEO spinning in circles and gasping for air, the tugging on his sleeve added extra flavor. It's not like what Plotz is suffering through would matter in the long run anyway— Plotz won't be there to experience it. So, Yakko continued to tug and nag until he got his desired reaction.

"What!?" the CEO exclaimed as he looked at the eldest toon. He still had the youngest Warners glued on to him, so he wasn't giving him his entire attention.

"Did you miss us, Plotz?" Yakko asked, still tugging on the sleeve. "Did ya? Did ya?"

Dot released her choke grip and used his back to push herself up with her feet. "Oh yeah," she said. "Did ya?"

"Did ya?" Wakko added.

Well, at least now they stopped moving around like a bunch of lunatics. The only thing Plotz worried about was his response. He didn't want to invoke too much emotion from the Warners; good or bad. Plotz needed the three of them to remain cool, calm, and collected. Or the closest they could get to it given they just committed mass genocide.

Plotz wanted to keep their weapons away from their hands. Now that Plotz was able to get a good look at the siblings, he realized their weapons were nowhere in sight. That was a good thing, right? Were their weapons in sight when they met their previous three victims?

The four of them were inside a dark and empty office building- Plotz was starting to regret the run. He slowly made his way over towards the window, in hopes someone would see his shadow inside and come help. This was probably the same feeling Heloise felt when he left her on her own. Plotz didn't want to pay that Karma just yet.

"Well," Plotz began, setting Wakko on the floor and gently removing Dot off his back. "The lot seemed pretty… quiet, with you guys gone."

"Very quiet?" Dot asked, looking up at the CEO. "So you did miss us?"

Before Plotz had a chance to reply, the eldest Warner spoke. Which he was secretly thankful for because he had no idea how to answer that question.

"We missed you, Plotzy," Yakko said with a small smile. "You wanna know how much we've missed you?"

Plotz darted his eyes over towards the paramedic outside the window. They were across the street from where they were standing which was too far for Plotz's liking. He didn't want to provoke the Warners, but if he did, he would like for them to be nearby. His answer to this question will determine whether he needs her or not.

"Sure, Yakko," Plotz finally said with a nervous chuckle. "How, uh, how much did you miss me?"

Wakko jumped up into the air and held his hands out wide, stretching them as far as he could as he froze mid-jump. "This much!"

Plotz looked up at the toon and nodded, "Really? You, uh, you don't say."

Yakko nodded his head, "Yeah! We do say! Especially after you threw us in that tower. We had the chance to miss you even more!"

There it was. Plotz knew it was coming eventually. He just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. "I didn't throw you in"—

"Don't even dare finish that sentence," Yakko said, cutting him off. "I think we both know why we're here."

Plots couldn't help but nod. "Yeah," he said, looking at the eldest toon, whose hands were now behind his back. "But- I can give you an explanation if that's what you're after."

Yakko reached behind him and gripped his worn-down ax handle. He didn't want to hear another explanation; he's already heard four- and all four of them got him nowhere. Yakko didn't think a fifth, especially one coming from the man who decided to move forward with their abandonment and drugging.

Hell, it might even make it worse. And Yakko didn't want to kill him off so quickly. Plotz doesn't deserve a quick and easy death. Yakko looked around the studio as much as he could, considering he wasn't near a window, and smiled. There were so many possibilities that were just waiting for the Warners to find. Yakko wanted a show; the lot already had the camera crew present.

And Yakko knows how to keep the performance to keep the audience entertained.

Wakko returned to the floor with a giggle and grabbed the CEO's collar. He brought it down, causing Plotz to lean in forward. "But you know, between you and us: we hate you even more."

Plotz gulped and reached up to grab Wakko's grip in an attempt to pull him off. The Warners hating him wasn't a thought that usually scared him, but now that he was interacting with them in person, the fear factor increased. He didn't want to end up in a body bag.

Wakko glanced over towards the paramedics, who were zipping up bags after bags. It was his turn to assess his damage. He hadn't realized that they'd caused such destruction. He only remembered targeting two, maybe three, people. The sheer sight of the aftermath was quick to inform him that he was wrong.

The steady flicker of the flames that encaptured a few of the buildings was an incredible sight. Wakko never imagined setting the lot on fire— well, no, he did— but he never figured it'd become a reality. He could see people running in and out, pulling out injured and deceased. A part of him wanted more. If he and his siblings were going to get taken away by the end of all this, it'd have to be memorable. He wanted their names to be remembered.

"There sure are lots of people on your lot, huh, Plotz?" Dot asked. She looked down at the nervous CEO and shook her head, "What a shame they have to see the worst part of you."

"You can't even control the outcome of your own studio," Yakko said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "I can already hear the press clacking away at their keyboards."

"The press won't"—

"No, no," Yakko interrupted, holding out his dirty gloved finger in front of Plotz's face. "The press absolutely will." Yakko looked over at his brother, who was already standing near the window. Seeing Wakko slide the glass open, Yakko smiled. "Wanna see?"

Removing the hand in front of his face, Plotz frowned, "I know how to manage my media."

The Warners laughed in unison, pointing fingers and gripping their abdomens. Their mocking laughter rang throughout the empty building and out into the open air, causing everyone in their vicinity to stop and look over. The loud sirens and chatter amongst the crowd faded, and all that was left to listen to were the shrieking laughter of the Warners.

Plotz didn't want all the attention on him. That wouldn't picture him in the best light, but then again, there wasn't really a 'best light' anymore. His studio was on the edge of collapsing, everyone knew Plotz was reaching his breaking point. The laughter that surrounded him didn't help.

"Shut up!" Plotz demanded, rekindling the spark of anger inside him. "I ought to send you three to the asylum with all the chaos you caused me!" Deep down, Plotz knew that getting angry with the Warners was going to lead him down a bad road. But he was going to die, might as well release the emotions he's held back from them for so long. He'd finally get to say it to their faces.

"Chaos?" Wakko repeated as he looked around, "You think we caused this mess?"

"You three hold the weapons, do you not?" Plotz said as he grabbed the Warners by their scruff in a swift motion and held them up in the air. A bold move for someone whose minutes were numbered.

"And you hold the motives," Yakko answered with a smirk, "Do you not?"

"Motives?" Plotz scoffed and held the Warners up higher, "Motives?! Have you seen the state of my lot?"

"Have you ever asked yourself why your lot is in such a state?" Dot asked. She smirked, causing the CEO to shake them slightly. "You know why."

Yakko choked back a laugh, "Aw, does the CEO not want to admit his flaws?"

The mocking tone of the three toons was loud. The studio was already dead silent, intensely watching their interaction; Plotz didn't need to be mocked.

Wakko pointed to the small camera crew that was now gathering outside the window along with a few random others, and wagged his finger, "but hush, you don't want them to hear it, do you?"

There was no reply to be needed because Wakko was right. Plotz wanted the studio to burst into commotion again. Besides, what were they doing just standing there? There were fires to extinguish and people to find. Standing around eavesdropping wasn't helping anyone.

Plotz turned to the crowd and scowled. He lowered the Warners, placing them back onto the floor, and looked at the crowd of law enforcement officers. He quickly made his way over towards the open window and stuck his head out. "My tax money goes towards you all doing your damn job!"

Seeing the CEO shake his fists in the air, it wasn't hard for the people to take the hint. The studio slowly, but surely, resumed its motion. The paramedics returned to their tagging and the fire department returned to tending the flames. Activities that they should have been doing the entire time. But of course, when you're in a studio specialized in comedic effects, it is bound to get picked up.

"They really let the fire spread for a good couple of minutes, didn't they?" Yakko said as he watched the people run back into the building.

"How many people do you think died in those minutes?" Dot asked, looking up at Plotz.

"Those people don't count towards our body count, do they? Because we weren't the ones lacking in our jobs."

Yakko nodded, "Exactly. We know what our job is, and we stick to it. Right sibs?"

"Right!" they both replied.

Plotz didn't know what to say to that. The Warners were right; they could stick to a task and commit to it— in more ways than one. He rolled his eyes and waved off the audience they were referring to. "Don't you worry about my team; they have everything under control."

Yakko raised a brow and looked over at the scattering crowd, "Geez, you do? With the way I see them running, I'd say they lost it a long time ago."

"You lost it too," Dot told Plotz as she fixed her shriveled flower bow, "You lost it a long time ago, didn't you?"

"I didn't lose control of anything. I have my reasons for the things that I do."

"Do you now?" Yakko asked. "Is that why you ran away in the opposite direction the second we came your way? If you really had things under control, you would have stood your ground, just like all the others you had sent to us. You should have seen how Heloise and Scratchy stayed firm with their words, something you could never do."

Plotz opened his mouth to reply but he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Maybe some fresh air would do you good," Yakko continued as he grabbed Plotz by his shirt collar and threw him out the open window. He jumped out after him, followed by his siblings, and dragged the CEO towards the center of the lot. Plotz was lucky he was only on the first floor.

Plotz's eyes widened when he saw Yakko zip over towards the group of paparazzi and play a game of Eenie Meenie Minie Moe. The eldest toon grabbed the chosen winner along with the crew of camera and lights and set up a chair for the man to sit in. "What are you doing?" Plotz asked, watching the Warner work.

Ignoring the CEO, Yakko patted the Interviewer's back. He could tell the man was uncomfortable with his touch but he didn't care. A little bloodstain on his polo wasn't going to hurt anyone. "Hey there, Steve."

"My name's Je"—

"--Steve, how'd you like a little bit of revenue?" Yakko asked, cutting off the man. "I think your career in— whatever it is you do— can take off with this one." He pointed to Plotz, who was sitting on the ground with dirt stains over his suit and jacket.

Ironically enough, his boss told him the same thing. The man gripped his camera until his fingertips turned white, looking at the small man dusting himself off. Jeffery, or Steve, didn't want to be next to the Warners or inside the lot. The company he works for just packed him up in the media van and sent him down against his will. Now, he found himself standing in the middle of a burning studio with his coworkers, camera and mic in hand.

Yakko looked at Plotz, whose face was wide with shock, "What's wrong, Plotz? Didn't expect us to get to you this way?"

"Yakko, get them outside behind the fence!" Plotz demanded as he looked over towards the cops, who were supposed to be preventing anyone from entering. He gave the police officers a look only to be responded with a mix of confused faces and shrugs.

Plotz could feel a migraine begin to form at the back of his head. He didn't have time to deal with the Warners. The siblings already had their mind set out for blood, Plotz didn't see the reason to make it such a big deal. He was already terrified, but leave it to the Warners to find ways to make his death miserable.

"There's nothing worse than living to see your entire livelihood crash to the ground." Wakko sighed and grabbed some gel from his hammerspace. He rubbed some on his hands and proceeded to apply it on Plotz's shiny head. "But we can make sure you look good doing it."

"Stop it," Plotz said as he aggressively waved off Wakko from his head. He pushed Wakko to the floor, causing the toon to land on his back with a thud. He used his jacket sleeve to wipe off the clear substance off his head, but as he looked down at his sleeve, he frowned. He wasn't sure what Wakko had put in his hair, but it wasn't gel. "Did you just"-

"What? It's just super glue." Wakko said, shoving his fistful of hair back into his hammerspace. "I was just going to make you look nice."

"You glued hair on my head?"

Wakko nodded, "I always wanted to be a barber."

Plotz was beyond disgusted. He didn't know who's hair Wakko obtained, and the means he took to obtain them. He felt his skin crawl with disgust as he picked off dry hair from his suit. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of Yakko's voice drowned him out.

"Welcome back to…" Yakko glanced over at the logo, "to TMZ Burbank!"

"Yakko, stop!"

Yakko glanced over at the CEO and gave him a sly smile before looking back at the camera crew. "You're rolling, right Steve?"

Jeffery gave him a hesitant thumbs up. His entire crew stood awkwardly in the middle of the lot.

"Yakko!" Plotz exclaimed as he aggressively walked up towards the camera and pushed it away. However, all he managed to do was make a fool of himself when Yakko pushed him harder, causing him to fall back onto the concrete.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're here standing in the middle of the Warner Brothers Media lot, amidst brutal scenery- Steve, pan the camera." Yakko said as he paid no mind to the complaining CEO on the ground.

Plotz tried to distract the cameraman as best he could, but his voice was drained out by the youngest Warners bouncing around him in a fit of giggles. He couldn't hear what Yakko was saying, but by the look on everyone's faces, it probably wasn't something worth sharing.

Yakko pointed to the struggling CEO and chuckled, "Don't you just love it when CEOs crumble? Especially when everything they've ever done wrong comes back to bite."

On cue, Wakko bit on the Plotz's sleeve and held on tight. He shook around as Plotz screamed in pain, attempting to get him off. The metallic taste of blood trickled into his mouth between his fangs. He tasted a lot of blood in the span of the evening, but nothing had ever tasted sweeter.

Dot approached the stumbling CEO on the ground and placed her hands on her hips. She looked at the camera, who was now focusing on Plotz, and shook her head to the audience.

"Warner Brothers has many great things," Yakko began as he stepped into the foreground of the scene. "The Looney Tunes, Pinky and the Brain, The Godfather, Goodfellas- but the people don't know what goes on behind the scenes." Yakko looked over towards the CEO, "Right, Plotz?"

Plotz had managed to release himself Wakko's jaws but he still felt the pain pulsate from his arm. He lifted his gaze and overheard Yakko begin to speak, and as his words entered his ears, Plotz could feel his heart drop. The sense of panic crept up to his ears with every word that Yakko spoke. "Yakko wait"-

But his words meant nothing to Yakko. He stopped talking and faced the CEO, "Is there a problem, Plotz? Worried about something?"

Yes. Plotz was worried about a lot of things. The audiences didn't need to know about the "behind the scenes." The public had no business knowing about the dirty laundry the studio had yet washed.

"I know we said we would kill you," Yakko whispered to him. "But what you didn't realize is that we can kill you in more ways than one." Turning back to the camera, Yakko cleared his throat and continued to speak.

As their brother prepared the audience, Wakko and Dot knew the drill. They left Plotz alone for a few minutes as they zipped back into the building through the window they exited out of. They climbed the steps towards his office and kicked the door open with so much force, a few of his paintings fell to the ground.

"I bet that was expensive," Dot said as she brushed the broken glass away. She looked at the computer and jumped into Plotz's giant office chair. She spun around a few times before returning her focus to the task at hand. "Okay, Wakko. Let's hack into the mainframe.

Wakko nodded and gestured for Dot to give him some space. The light coming from the computer screen made Wakko's eyes hurt. After spending two decades in pitch darkness, such strong light did a number on his vision.

Dot pulled out a pair of cracked sunglasses and placed them on Wakko's nose. "That better?" she asked her squinting brother.

Wakko nodded and began digging through the files saved on Plotz's computer.

Back outside on the lot, Yakko continued his little show- savoring the thought that there were millions of faces behind the screen. It wasn't until his siblings returned with files upon files in their hands that he felt the power surge inside him. "Oh, look at what we have here."

The documents sitting in the Warner's hands were guaranteed to destroy Plotz's career. Not only was there evidence of broken contracts and underpaid employees, but the vast amount of fraud and under the rug agreements were alarming.

"Geez, Plotz," Yakko said as he held up a small box filled with all sorts of stamps and ink, "I didn't know you liked to forge signatures."

Plotz felt his hands go numb as he tried to reach for the box in the toon's hands. He couldn't let the audience know about his dirty work. Sure, Plotz knew he built his career on a fraudulent and stained foundation, but when money was the main goal, there were things he had to do. No one gets rich the honest way anymore.

"It's not what it looks like!" Plotz shouted, snatching the box out of Yakko's hands.

"It's not?" Wakko said, dumping the stack of papers onto the ground and digging through them. "What's this then?"

Before Wakko had the chance to show it to the camera, Plotz pushed his hand down. His career was guaranteed to crumble if other executives found out about his little cash-grab game. He quickly turned towards Yakko and snatched the microphone away from his hand.

Yakko looked at the camera and shook his head, "Wow, and don't get me started on how he treats his stars."

"Ignore him, everyone," Plotz said to the camera. "He's gone rogue."

"I've gone rogue? That's your excuse?" Yakko snatched the microphone back. "You lock us up, steal our revenue, decline our proposals, revoke our toon rights, provide us with inept living conditions, forget to feed us, and you wanna talk about us going rogue? Ever think about the fact that maybe if you would have treated us better, you wouldn't have half your lot on fire?"

Plotz looked at Yakko, "You're lying through your teeth."

"I am?"

"I have never done such things before! I treat all my toon stars fairly! These accusations are false!"

Dot and Wakko popped up behind him and pushed him to the side. They had just brought a stack of papers and documents that proved Plotz otherwise. "So, then what's all this?"

"Where'd you even get that!?" Plotz said in a panic. The Warners weren't supposed to have that. That was locked up in a safe that no one had the key to but himself.

Wakko smiled, "We have our ways. The truth will always come to light in the end. Also, maybe if you delete the document after you print them, it'd help a lot."

Dot nodded, "Yeah, especially when the key to the safe is in your desk drawers. "Besides, you made us do this, Plotzy," Dot said as she held up each document in front of the camera, "You pushed our hand."

"You have no one to blame for the downfall of your studio lot but yourself. You're the one with dirty money." Yakko returned his attention back to the camera and began to provide commentary for such documents.

Plotz tried to reach out and snatch the documents away from the Warners. He pulled on Dot and Yakko's arms to hide the documents but instead of making it better, it made it worse.

His phone began to buzz and ding with notifications. He could see headlines popping up on his news feed and comments overflowing. Plotz didn't need to scroll to catch glimpses of the words they all said.

He felt his world crash to the ground.

And it wasn't just the public that canceled him, he began receiving emails from those in charge, too. From people who sponsored his programs and other executives who funded his projects. It was rejection after rejection, and Plotz just about lost it. Plotz forgot all about his surroundings and desperately scrolled through his phone, trying his best to reach out and text as many people as he could about it. He couldn't lose so many connections.

But it was too late. In the world of the media, a single text can destroy everything. There was no more reputation to worry about, given the Warners were making an effort to make sure of it.

In hindsight, Plotz knew he should have done a better job. His cowardness and scamming ways came back to haunt him. His tower of cards that he strategically built in the last 35 years came crashing down.

Now, everyone knows. Everyone knew about the dirty laundry that he tucked under the rug. The fires and massacres were just the icing on the cake at this point. He could have fixed it when he had the chance, but instead, he let his team handle the dirty work for him— and look where that got him.

Plotz grabbed the Warners by their ears and pushed the cameraman away with his free hand. He saw the man topple over, sending the camera crashing down onto the pavement and shattering the lens.

Wakko looked down and shook his head in disappointment, "They already knew you were a bad guy. Hurting the cameraman was a low blow, even for you."

"Shut up!" Plotz said. His face was red with rage as he stared holes into the trio of toons. "You three have ruined everything! You think I can just repair my career with the snap of my fingers?"

"We don't care." Dot deadpanned. "You think we care about your fake career?"

"After the way you treated us, we'll make sure you don't treat any toon the same," Wakko added.

Plotz looked at them, "Oh, so you three think you're little saviors. Here to save the day from the dirty corporate world. Well, you can't! Because just like me, there are many other CEOs that get their hands dirty!"

"Then I guess we need to follow through," Yakko replied, unfazed by the screaming man.

"Yes!" The youngest two Warners said in unison.

"We were going to let you free," Yakko explained upon seeing the confusion on Plotz's face. "We thought seeing your career crumble before your very eyes would be the best for you. Killing you off would be too easy. But now we realize that it really wouldn't matter."

Plotz's eyes widened. He could have survived the encounter?

He looked at the smashed camera and dropped the Warners on the ground. He thought that if maybe he pretended to be hurt, the Warners would think twice about killing him. Besides, seeing him suffer was their point. But it didn't work, it was a common pattern Plotz had gotten used to finding. The Warners didn't buy his little show.

Not that he would blame them. There was a reason why he wasn't an actor.

The Warners exchanged looks before approaching the CEO. Yakko grabbed onto one of his arms and pulled him forward, "You know about Hammurabi's code, right?"

"About who?"

Yakko scoffed, "Why am I not surprised."

Plotz felt the Warners push him around and slam him against one of the street lamps. He felt pain shoot up his back and his head banged against the metal.

"An eye for an eye?" Yakko asked, grabbing his make-shift ax.

"A leg for a leg!" Wakko added, revving up his chainsaw.

Dot laughed as he grabbed her bat, "Oh, I think it's time for a history lesson."

Plotz extended his arms out to shield himself from the toons before him. He didn't want to die just yet.

"Look at us, Plozy," Yakko said, extending his arms out in front of him. "What am I missing?!"

This was the first time Plotz was able to get a good look at the Warners. He didn't realize how faded and jagged they appeared. He looked at Yakko and used his chin to gesture towards the toon, "Uh, your arm is almost gone."

"Yeah, my arm is almost gone, isn't it?"

"You know what that means!" Wakko said with laughter, "I sure hope the cameras don't catch this!" Wakko ran towards the cops that surrounded the metal gates that held back the paparazzi and scared them away. He unlocked the gate and led them inside, pointing over towards the cowardly man.

Yakko stretched out Plotz's arm and gestured for Dot to grab it, laughing at Ploz's attempt to break free. He lifted the ax and brought it down hard on the CEO's arm. He could hear the blood curdling screams that came out of Plotz's mouth, but Yakko paid it no mind. After spending an entire evening listening to the screams, he could care less.

He brought his ax up again, winking at the CEO before bringing it back down. The bones underneath the metal crunched loudly. Yakko could hear the people surrounding them scream in terror.

Dot held onto the CEO's arms as he tried to flail around. "My arms! I can't feel my arms!"

Wakko looked at Plotz and raised a brow. "Yeah," he said, holding up Plotz's now detached arm, "That's kind of the point, silly."

Plotz looked over at Wakko, who was playfully swinging his arm around. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that his arm was no longer attached to him. He couldn't feel it, but he sure felt the pain radiating from the stump halfway up his arm. He felt like passing out.

"Stay with us," Dot said, slapping Plotz's face to keep him up, "You aren't allowed to fall asleep."

"Not until we're done with you!" Wakko shouted in excitement. "My turn! My turn!"

Yakko stepped to the side and let his baby brother take charge. He looked at the arm that rested on the floor and looked at his own. His arm was nothing but sketching lines that no one bothered to fill in. The more he looked at his own arm, the more inspired he felt to hurt the man.

"What's missing from me, Plotz?" Wakko asked, holding his hands out, "What's missing?"

Plotz tried to keep his eyes open but he found them closing on his own. He felt Yakko reach over and grab onto his eyelids, keeping them open for him. But even then, his eyes refused to focus.

"Do you need a hint?" Dot asked, gesturing over towards her brother with her free hand, "It's staring right at you."

Plotz nodded. He could see the giant gaping hole right in the middle of the toon. Wakko was putting his hand through it to demonstrate. If he was going to follow in his brother's footsteps and remove a chunk of his torso, he knew that would be it for him.

"I can save that for last. I don't want to kill you off that quick." Wakko innocently said as he shrunk down his chain saw. "I got a better idea."

"Whatcha gonna do," Dot asked, grabbing the CEO's chin to keep him awake.

"I think it would be best to remove the main source of your lies," Wakko began, stepping closer to the CEO. He reached down inside Plotz's mouth and pulled out his tongue, "Can't lie if you don't have this."

Plotz felt his adrenaline spike as he moved his head back. He had a hard time flailing around with Yakko and Dot holding his head still. Plotz could feel Wakko's cold gloved hands wrap around his tongue as he pulled it out. The force of his tug hurt.

Wakko revved the small chainsaw and slowly brought it down towards the pink organ. He smiled, with his own tongue hanging out at the side of his mouth, as if he were showing it off.

The metallic taste of blood filled Plotz's mouth. He tried to spit out the pool of blood that collected inside his mouth but the taste was still there. He screamed and tried his best to push Wakko away.

"Look! Cat's got your tongue!" Wakko exclaimed as he tossed the severed body part in the air. A stray cat jumped up from the bushes and caught it in his mouth, taking it back into the darkness with it.

Plotz attempted to say something to the Warners, but with no tongue, it was hard to understand what he was trying to say.

Yakko watched the movements of his mouth with intense concentration before mocking him with a smile. "We can't understand you, try using your words!"

The Warners laughed even harder at Plot'z attempt to speak. They saw him grow frustrated with each work he failed to pronounce.

"And to think you used to order us around," Dot said, wiping away her tears. "Well, you won't be doing much of that any time soon anyways." She pulled out her bat and gave it a twirl. She could see the fear in Plotz's eyes and she couldn't help but feel pride for it. It wasn't every day she could get the CEO to get afraid.

Getting him annoyed, well, that was a different story.

Yakko crouched down in front of him and watched the blood drip down his chin. "Your listening skills aren't very good either, are they Plotzy?" Yakko grabbed his ax and pulled on the CEO's ears, "You don't even use these, so I'll be taking them too. Van Gogh could never."

A sharp pain shot through the CEO's skull as he felt Yakko slice his ear off with a short swing. He brought his attached arm up to cup his ear, feeling the warm blood trickle down his hand. It wasn't long before he felt the same pain arise from his other ear.

"You don't listen," Wakko said as he took the ears from his brother. "And sometimes you fail to see the things that are right in front of you."

"You choose to ignore the giant problems and solve it with your money making bullshit, don't you?" Dot asked, giving Plotz a sinister smile. "Well, we can help with that too."

Plotz screamed as he saw Wakko approach him with a rusted crowbar. He wasn't sure where he got it from, but by the looks of it, it had been used recently. He felt the cold metal against his cheek and eyelid.

"Stay still," Wakko said. He looked towards the cameras and gave them a thumbs up. "Viewer Discretion advised."

Plotz screamed, feeling Wakko slam the crowbar into his eye. He could feel it go numb underneath the socket, it's jagged edges scraping his eye. As Wakko pulled up, Plotz could have sworn he went blind.

Wakko laughed as he pulled the crowbar back, "Can you still see, Plotzy?"

Everything around him became a mess of colors. He lost half his vision and the pressure that was building up inside his head made his remaining vision blur. He couldn't make out anything, which made him feel a panic he's never felt before. He screamed.

Wakko jerked the crowbar back and tossed it to the side. He wiped his hands on his faded blue sweater and looked towards the audience. He could see vomit on the ground and a bunch of empty spots where people once stood. Wakko looked at the cameraman, who looked whiter than he remembered, and shot him a smile. "I can take it off your hands," Wakko said. He grabbed the camera and pushed Jeffrey off his chair. "I want to make sure you get all the good shots."

"Take it," Jeffery said as he slowly backed away from Wakko and ran off the lot.

Dot crouched down and patted the bald spot on Plotz's head. "You wanna know what it's like to wear rags? I was a toon destined to be cute but look at me now. But don't worry, I'm sure with you by my side, I'll find a way to make it work."

Dot grabbed the dismembered arm and posed with it. She looked at the cameras and sent them each a cute wave. She could see the cameras flashing before her with each pose she struck. Some might say it'd be a bit morbid to pose with the dismembered limbs and bodies of the victims, but Dot couldn't help it. The lighting was perfect for it. "I hope your dry cleaners have affordable prices," she said, crouching down next to the CEO. "Because you're gonna need them. I hear blood-stains don't come off easily."

She giggled at the cameras she posed for. "Make sure you all get my good side," Dot announced as she twirled the bat in her hands. "Plotz took my dignity away a long time ago, so I'm going to take his too!" Once those words left her mouth, she jammed the bat on Plotz's stomach.

Aside from the horrifying screams from the public, Dot could pick up a few compliments thrown her way. She winked at the camera as she lifted the bat and shook off the blood that she drew. "Oh come on," she teased the audience "What did you expect? He was pissing me off! And I'm just a cute little thing… so don't cross me!" Dot yelled that last part with anger she didn't realize she had.

Plotz hated that he was still alive. The Warners had decided to drag out the torture for far longer than it had to be and for what? They already killed his lot, career, and reputation- what else did they want? Plotz was sure the other's didn't suffer for this long. Every part of his body was on fire.

The Warner brothers smiled, watching their sister release all of her frustrations out on Plotz. Wakko was itching for his finishing move.

Plotz didn't have the energy to move or run away. He couldn't see a thing and the muffled voices coming from the Warners didn't help. With his ability to communicate severed, there was nothing he could say to stop the Warners from continuing. Besides, he had a million eyes on him behind those camera lenses- it was over.

"Where do you think you'll go?" Yakko asked him as he wiped the blood off his ax with his faded pants. "After you die?"

Plotz gave him no response. He toyed with the idea of death a few times before, as most people do throughout their lifetime, but he never thought he'd face it so soon.

"Have you thought about it?" Yakko asked, looking down at the man. The orange light from the lamp post cast shadows that made Plotz look so much older than he was. That, or his face was just dismembered. "Well, why don't you go find out. Let us know what you find. If it ends up being nothing but pitch darkness… I told you so."

Giving his brother the go-ahead, Yakko stepped to the side and watched as Wakko revved his chainsaw as he pulled it out of his hammerspace. "This won't hurt a bit!"

Plotz didn't struggle. His death was about to be broadcasted on live television and there was nothing he could do about it. Wakko approached him with his loud machine and Plotz screamed upon feeling the cold metal make an impact with his skin.

Wakko did his best to be as precise as possible. Just like he did with the psychiatrist, he wanted to make sure he got the details done right. He smiled, listening to Ploz scream, but the screaming soon ceased, and there was nothing but the faint sound of fire cracking in the background.

Wakko set his chainsaw to the side and stuck his hand right through the hole he created in the man's chest. "Look, it's just like mine!"

"It's just like yours!" Yakko exclaimed back. He looked at the many cameras that were now on them. "He got what he deserved! He had it coming! Don't act like you didn't know!"

The cops and paramedics slowly inched forward.

"What are you gonna do?" Yakko asked, "Save him? He's dead! You had all this time it act; but no! You decided to sit and watch- so you're just as guilty!"

Wakko and Dot grabbed Plotz's body and tossed it over towards the paramedics. "Take him!" Dot said, looking at the lady, "We don't want him! Put him up in a museum for everyone to see how much of a coward he really was! Show the world how pathetic he is."

Seeing a group of paramedics take Plotz, Yakko smiled at the officers that continued to surround them. "Oh, you aren't here for Plotz, are you?"

Wakko rolled his eyes, "So what's the plan? You wanna take us in?"

"We got what we needed, but we could always finish the job." Dot suggested, looking at her brothers. She gripped her baseball bat in her hand and giggled.

"Oh, sister sibling. I like the way you think." With a smirk, Yakko looked at the crowd of law enforcement officers approaching them.

This was it. Yakko and his siblings know they've reached the end of their line as well. The way they were written only allowed them to harm those who deserved the harm. Tease with those who deserve the pain. No one here deserved any of that.

Yakko knew they were just doing their job. But still, his hands were already dirty and his siblings were ready. What's the harm of continuing the fun? They took down half the lot in the span of three hours. Give them three more and the lot would cease to exist.

That'll teach people not to mess with the Warners. The fun has only just begun.