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Smudge Brightspark and Squeek Onby have a friend named Clyde Rufflenose, a deer Toon who bravely leads the Toon Resistance. After quite the war against a man named Grim Alexander Grief, he was made into a proper Toon cyborg complete with new features, including Gags built into his body and limbs that extend and are detachable, which makes for new fun ways to take on the Cogs!
Now, Smudge and Squeek were in Mezzo Melodyland, taking in the harmonious sounds and tunes that filled their ears. Both of them were playfully dancing until they caught a glimpse of a Cog they may have seen before - he looked familiar with that monochrome color scheme, the Skelecog head, and the fact that his minions looked like they were assembled with scraps, but this Cog had another set of arms when there was previously only one. The features were not important, though, as there was something more notable: the fact that it looked like he and his team were carrying limbs reminiscent of their part-mechanical friend. He was holding the Bossbot Basher Uniform-covered torso, while a select few lackeys were carrying the legs and arms, each stuck in knots.
In the raccoon's mind, he wanted to have Squeek drench them so that they could all be shocked, but he was able to restrain himself as the thought of their friend's metallic parts getting electrocuted scratched his mind. So, he decided that they should start the old-fashioned way: with pies. He silently held out a fruit pie and bounced it in his hand to clue his little friend in. In agreement, he pulled out his own fruit pie. They then lobbed their treats at the two trash-trons holding Clyde's right arm, causing them both to explode. Luckily, the limb suffered no damage.
The Cog leading them looked back at the destruction and then at the Toons who caused it. "Are you all trying to waste my time?" he asked irritatedly.
"Give him back to us!" demanded Smudge.
The Skelecog only scoffed, "Kid, I wouldn't expect you to understand, but I think your friend here needs a little repurposing. Besides, even if you obtained everything we have, you would never find where his head went."
"Forecaster?" Squeek blurted out. To him, that was the most logical guess, as it was not uncommon for the two Cogs to be up to something together, plus the Forecaster seemed interested in taking Clyde's head away for his altar. This led to the trio getting into scuffles with the Sellbot, always resulting in the Cogs losing. However, the sight of his limbs was a cause of concern for the Toons.
"And you'll never know where he lives. The pursuit is pointless, and your friend is as good as dead. I'm just going to refurbish his parts for new Scrap Heap members, so save us all some time and skedaddle."
Smudge wasn't having it, and he especially hated the notion of his friend getting torn apart for his work. So, he chucked a cream pie at the leader's face, making him grunt in frustration. As he wiped off the filling, he looked at his cohorts and commanded, "I need the Scrap Heap members without a body part to stave off these troublemakers. I'd support, but I don't have a free hand. The rest of you with parts, we have to get moving."
He tried running forward, but Squeek, being the sneaky little thing he is, discreetly tossed a set of marbles in front of him beforehand. When the monochrome machine stepped on the spheres, he slipped. Though he tried to get a solid footing, he couldn't, and within seconds, he was on his rear, having dropped the torso onto the ground a little distance from him. However, the other limb-carrying automatons ran past him. Squeek gave chase, declaring, "Come back!"
"Run along, my garbage-y greatnesses! I'll catch up soon!" said the robot as he ran to pick up what he had dropped. He didn't get far from his spot, as Smudge summoned a boulder to keep him pinned down. With him stuck, the raccoon ran for the torso and picked it up. Wanting to accompany his young friend, he left the rest of them with a stick of soon-to-detonate TNT. The moment he bolted, the TNT exploded, knocking the Cog out cold. The rest of the trash-made pawns deprioritized the Toon and went to help their master.
Meanwhile, Squeek was farther up the street. Thanks to the bat's agility, he caught up with the crew in no time. He pulled out a large magnet to bring the Cogs closer to him, which worked. The Scrap Heap members were stuck in a daze, and as a bonus, the arms and legs of his part-robot friend were attached to the magnet! Pocketing the magnetized limbs, he wasted no time finishing them. He hurled slices of birthday cake at each of them in quick succession to destroy them—had he patiently waited for explosions, as would be conventional, he might get hurt, and he wanted to avoid that even though these Cogs were not very strong.
Like clockwork, once the last one's parts flew everywhere, his mechanically-versed buddy came to give him a pat on the back. Once done, Smudge held out Clyde's torso and asked, "So, where's the rest of him?"
Squeek smiled and pulled out Clyde's remaining limbs from his hammerspace, still in knots.
This time, giving the kid a rub on the head, Smudge praised him, "Well done, Squeek! Let's go to my workshop, and we'll get him untangled and reassembled." He pulled out his portable hole and leapt into the black void, with Squeek following. They appeared in Smudge's workshop. Setting what they had of the cyborg on a table, first, the raccoon unknotted the arms and legs while remarking under his breath, "Clyde could not have been comfortable like this..." Once done, he reattached the limbs to their proper joints. As if following being hit with a current of electricity—though the body was not struck with any—, the assembly rose to a sitting position. Smudge saw this and cried out, "He's alive! He's aliiiive!!!"
The headless Clyde moved his right hand around, feeling the table and eventually the nearby wall. Then, with his left hand, he felt his surface's edge and turned himself so that his legs dangled over the edge. He reached out with his right arm, which was caught gently by Smudge's hands. Like a spider, it crawled up the arm and located the back, giving a pat, a familiar gesture when praising others. All the genius could do was say, "It's good to have you back." When he said that, however, he had just realized that Clyde might not be able to hear. What they had of their friend did not include the ears, and Clyde had to feel to get the faintest idea of where he was, hinting at no way of getting visual input, at least not from where his torso was.
"I don't think he can hear us," said Smudge to Squeek. To confirm, he turned back to the cyborg and asked, "Can you... hear us?"
There was silence before Clyde's arms reached out, and before long, he tried to get off the table, only to fall to the ground. The other Toons helped him to his feet before Squeek asked, "How will we talk to him now?"
The raccoon answered, "We'll spell what we want to say on the palm of his hand, like writing on a learning tablet. As for how he'll speak with us... Let's move to the blackboard. He can write and/or draw what he wants to say to us."
Gently, they escorted the headless Toon to a blackboard. From the chalkholder, Smudge grabbed a decently long and thin white cylinder and positioned Clyde's right hand and fingers to hold it. "Squeek," he told the bat, "if you can, talk with Clyde. Draw letters on his hand; I'll tell you what to say while erasing what's on the board. He can put whatever he wants on the board."
"Okay!" Squeek nodded. He took the deer's left hand and started drawing the letters on the open palm: a T, an H, an I, an S, and so on until he sent a message that would be construed as "This is Squeek." He continued writing his messages to the best of his ability, "Me and Smudge have you safe in his workshop. In your left hand is chalk, and there's a chalkboard near you so you can talk to us. You can put anything on there you want to."
When Squeek stopped for a couple of seconds, Clyde pulled his arm away and felt around for the top left of the board. Then he wrote, "It's good to be with you two again, even when I cannot see you." The handwriting was surprisingly neat for someone without sight. He stepped away, once again extending his arm with palm facing up. As Squeek took it, Smudge erased what was written on the slate and then told his little buddy, "I need you to relay the questions I am about to ask, starting with, 'What happened?'"
The child nodded and wrote the question on his friend's hand, and when he was done, Clyde started drawing. This process of palm-writing and chalk-drawing continued for a while, but the conclusion was this: Clyde was ambushed by an electric attack from their familiar foe, the Forecaster. When he next woke up, his body was nowhere in sight; he could still move his limbs, but movement felt limited. His head was frozen and taken by the Sellbot, only thawed out once at home. Despite his best efforts to fight back, his eyelids and mouth were ultimately sewn shut, so he could not hypnotize or yell loudly enough, but even if he could, he would never get far as just a rolling or hopping head. All he knows is that he's hung on a wooden plaque above an altar dedicated to Grim, of all people, in the Forecaster's house.
Grim... He was an awful hue-man who came after a tremendous raid on the Cashbot Mints, trying to enslave the Toons into minework. Why he did it, no one knows, especially since none of this had anything to do with Plutoonium, which he made a big deal of when he first discovered it. That's neither here nor there, though. Along with cruelty towards the animations, he was also abusive to his automatons, whom he would attack or even kill if he was inconvenienced. Why this one Cog loved him to the point of creating an altar, as if he were a sort of deity, was disturbing to these three.
Anyways, Clyde's head was at that altar, and Smudge was devising a delightfully devious plan to get him back. Well, this would be less of a plan and more of mischievous fun. "Squeek," he said with a cheeky grin. "We should take the time to scare the Forecaster. Ask Clyde if he's into the idea, because I think he's perfect for it without his head."
Squeek giggled, thinking that could be fun. He took his metal friend's hand and wrote, "Do you wanna scare the Forecaster?" Clyde pulled back quickly to give a thumbs up.
"Awesome!" Smudge beamed. "So, here's what we're going to do: First, we need to get Clyde's head back so that he can see what he's doing. Squeek, I'm sure you'll have a way to sneak into the house and retrieve Clyde's head. He could do it without for it to seem more authentic, I think, but I'd hate to rob him of the reaction, plus it might ruin the effect if he needs to be helped back on course. I will, however, step in if the Forecaster starts fighting. As for you, you make sure Clyde can watch while being hidden. How's that sound?"
"I like it!" replied Squeek as he wrote down the last of the message he wanted to send. After that, Clyde pulled back and gave another thumbs-up.
"Great! Okay, Squeek, you have to find the Forecaster and follow him to his home. Once you're there, let Clyde and me know so that we can begin camping out until you have the head. Then, we spook!"
A sly smile crept up Squeek's face as he responded, "I like the sound of that."
So the sneaky one set off to find the purple Skelecog clad in executive plaid. On Lighthouse Lane, he came to the doors of his workplace and discreetly peered into a window, keeping half of his head out of sight and his ears folded to reduce how much of a spy was peering in. It didn't take long for him to see the Skelecog approaching the entrance doors. After his mind gave him a quick solution, he ran off around the corner and peered back, seeing from the doors the Forecaster stepping out. His eyes scanned his surroundings, and the bat retreated behind the wall before the eyes could perceive him. After just a little while, he popped his head back out to watch the Cog summon a cloud platform and fly off. Squeek pursued him, staying far behind but never slowing his pace so that he would never lose him. He kept his eyes on the airborne automaton except for brief moments to look ahead at the path to avoid ramming into or tripping over something.
Minutes later, the Forecaster finally touched ground in front of a modest white house. In front of it was a cobblestone path with a stone bridge over a running river. Squeek hid behind a tree on the other side of the water, pulled out his Chatterbox, and whispered to Smudge, "I'm at his house."
The device let out a boing, and without looking at the alerts, he knew that the raccoon and deer were coming. A portable hole appeared before him, and from it came the mechanic. The mechanical Toon also came out of the hole, and the hole closed as he fell back to the floor. Smudge took Clyde's hand and wrote, "We're here." He turned to face his smaller friend and said, "Alright, Squeek. What's the plan?"
Squeek peered back at the house. "It's not late enough," he replied. "We'll have to wait until the Forecaster is asleep. I can maybe get in before then, but I don't want to start the rescue until I know he's not going to know. When he is, I get Clyde from his, uh... 'pla-que'... Wherever he is, I get him free, and then we get his body into the house. We somehow wake up the Cog, and then spookiness happens!"
"I guess I'll go set up a camp while we wait," Smudge announced. Squeek nodded in agreement, seeing it as a nice way to kill time. Nearby, they found a nice open space, and the raccoon set up the camp while the bat watched the deer. When that was done, the inventor sat next to Clyde while Squeek got closer to the residence. He ran toward the entrance and looked in through a window, seeing Clyde with strings sealing his eyelids and mouth. In front of him, he saw the Forecaster, somberly looking at a photo of Grim. If there's one thing that Squeek and his friends knew, it's that the Sellbot was not a robot of humor. It abundantly confuddled the child as to how anyone could genuinely like that hue-man. After a few seconds, he placed the photo back on the altar and went up the stairs, shutting the lights of the room off.
With him gone, the sneaky one waited ten seconds for him to return for some reason, and when that didn't happen, Squeek grabbed the doorknob, giving it a slow and gentle turn. It halted abruptly, so Squeek took out a bobby pin and picked the lock. Once done, he opened the door, slid inside, and shut it without as much as a creak or a squeak. Now that he was inside, he tiptoed to the altar. He heaved himself onto the surface and saw Clyde on what looked like a wooden shield. He reached up to Clyde's ear and softly tapped it. He then got close and whispered, "It's me, Squeek. I'm going to get you out of this, but I need you to hold tight for a while. The Forecaster's still awake, but when he's not, I'll get you out of here."
The antlered Toon smiled a little and nodded. The bat gently got himself back onto the floor and moved to the stairs the same way he did when going to his cyborg friend. Next, he got on his hands and knees to move up the soft stairs and ascended to the next floor. From one room, light seeped through. The trespasser guessed this was the bedroom and waited for the lights inside to go out. It took some time, but there was eventually a click, and darkness took over.
Squeek waited a minute longer for the Cog to fall asleep and then another minute for good measure. Finally, he crept back down the stairs, quiet as a mouse so that the Suit would not be stirred. He got back up onto the altar and whispered, "He's asleep now. I'm going to get you out of here!" He took the plaque from off the wall and lowered it delicately onto the surface. He pulled out his portable hole with slow and precise movements, laid it out like a carpet, and hopped in with Clyde in his arms.
The bat holding the plaque appeared beside his inventive friend. "I got him!" he squealed.
Smudge gave Squeek a pat on the head and commended, "Well done!" He detached the head from the wood and carefully undid the thread keeping Clyde's eyelids and mouth shut. When he opened his eyes, he first perceived Smudge, and then he looked over at Squeek. The buck smiled and remarked, "It's good to see you again." The others giggled at the joke, but they were glad to have him back in one piece... well, two pieces, but still, they had all of him reunited.
The trio spent a little more time camping, enjoying some s'mores and sharing some ghost stories before midnight came. Now was the time to put their plans into motion! Squeek, Smudge, and a still headless Clyde, whose head was being carried around by his sneaky friend, approached the door. Like earlier, Squeek was careful with opening the door, opening it just wide enough so that all three could get in before quietly closing it behind them. Once inside, they all found hiding spots, with Smudge hiding behind a doorframe and Clyde and Squeek putting themselves under the altar. To make him seem somewhat more intimidating, the cyborg slightly extended his limbs, with his right arm going farther to lift one of the photos. He raised it until it barely touched the ceiling and threw it down, shattering the frame and emitting a loud sound as the glass dispersed.
It may have been a minute or two, but they finally saw from the stairs a light coming from a fireball hovering in the hand of a purple Skelecog with only a black necktie. "What is that jaleo?" he questioned into the darkness before proceeding forward. His flame illuminated the shattered photo frame, and he got on his knees. "¿Sr. Grief? Oh, señor, what happened?" Getting on his feet once more, he bolstered the power of his lantern to vanquish the darkness. "Who dares to entrar sin derecho?!" The Skelecog got no answer, but everyone else was meanwhile giggling quietly. He faced the altar again and did not see the plaque of his enemy's head, and his blood ran cold. "Clyde?" he muttered. "Where has he gone?"
While he stood in confusion and apprehension, Clyde stealthily snuck up behind him with long limbs and hunched posture. Then, he quickly and roughly grabbed his shoulders, making him yelp loudly, which caused the intruders to laugh, though still silently. He finally processed the headless form of this cybernetic enemy, and in disbelief, he stuttered, "C-Clyde!" He then balled his open hand into a fist, fading the fire, and reopened it in front of him, spewing a blast of it. The sensations were felt by him, and his head let out a pained groan while his torso staggered back and fell against a wall, the house surrounded. When Squeek heard this, all he could do was whisper his name.
The Sellbot heard that, and he turned around. Electricity danced all over his right forearm as he asked, "¡¿Dónde estás, Clyde?!"
Smudge came out of hiding to launch a water balloon at the Cog to distract him, which worked for a little while. It at least gave the body time to stand up and retrieve his friends by elongating his arms to snatch them up and pull them towards him. Once he positioned Squeek in a way that would put his head back on, he declared, "Let's go, guys! We've done all that we came here to do." Clyde ran for the door and quickened his pace when he heard the foreign-tongued robot shout, "You're not getting away!" and narrowly dodged an ice ball that, when looking ahead, sprouted jagged ice and most likely would have caught the Toons in it had they been hit. To create even more distance, the deer's shoes sprouted wheels akin to rollerblades, and he dashed away rapidly.
Sadly, he did not get too far before lightning clutched him, giving him and his friends a stunning shock. Smudge, being all too familiar with the feeling of electricity coursing through his body, was affected the least and got up quickly, seeing the Cog on his cloud flying swiftly towards them. To stop him, he threw a kart battery at him, and the weather robot was in a state of shock. He flew past the Toons before colliding with a tree, stuck against it for a little while before being peeled off by gravity.
With him still out, the other Toons were recovering. The zappy one took out and threw down his portable hole, and Clyde was the first to get in, followed by Squeek. Finally, Smudge leaped into the black, and they found themselves in the latter's workshop. The owner of it sprinkled a dusting of pixie dust on Squeek, and when the child stood, he did the same for the cyborg. Finally, Clyde blasted Smudge with his confetti arm cannon.
"What a night that was," Clyde chuckled, reverting his robotic body parts to their regular lengths and shapes.
"Did you see how scared the Forecaster was?" Squeek asked, looking up at his tall blue friend.
He nodded and gave the bat a pat on the head. "I did, Squeek. Oh, and thank you for rescuing me." He turned his head to Smudge and followed up with, "You too, Smudge. Thank you."
Both of his friends gave a "You're welcome," before Smudge started speaking, "Anyways, that was quite a thing that those Cogs pulled off, and it was that Sellbot who struck you easily? That could be dangerous for you in the future if they want to do it again, not helped by metal being an amazing conductor of electricity. If you're okay with it, I think I'd like to install some rubber into your metal parts so that we can minimize the damage you receive from electricity, if not eliminate it altogether."
Clyde smiled, "I'm fine with that."
Smudge thus took out a notepad to remind himself that his part-metal partner would need rubber infused with his parts. When done, it was decided that they would spend the rest of the night at the raccoon's residence, so a few sleeping bags were pulled out for the guests. They quickly settled in, so Smudge turned off the lights and joined his friends in slumber.