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Trying to teach a bunch of ‘toons how to play basketball wasn’t on Michael Jordan’s list of to-dos that day. Actually, one of them was to pick up a bouquet for his wife so they could have date night that night, so this was as far out of field as one could possibly get.
...still, it’d been a while since he got to teach anyone and he really liked doing that.
Just, maybe, not with the looming fear of aliens stealing them away.
Anyway, looking them over, he figured this’d be pretty easy. Most had arms and legs, most were bipedal, all of them could talk-
There’s a bird. There’s a giant bird that’s like, a head shorter than him, standing next to a legit coyote who looks bored out of his mind tugging on the jersey he had handed out. Every so often, he’d look up at the bird, smile, roll his eyes, maybe nudge the other, but Michael was pretty sure he wasn’t keen on being here.
He stopped Bugs who had been beelining for Taz, who was busy racing up and down the bleachers. “Uh, hey, Bugs. That’s...a bird. With wings.”
Bugs looked from him, to the bird, then back again, shrugging. “Well, more like a roadrunner, doc. They don’t tend ta fly. Can ya even call ‘em a bird?”
“That’sh like callin’ a penguin a bug ‘cause it can’t fly!” Daffy leaped over Michael’s shoulder, nearly barreling into Bugs who sidestepped him easily. “Or, heavensh forbid, a DUCK!”
“Daffy, ducks can fly, you just don’t because you hate flyin’,” Bugs said, already chewing on a carrot like it had insulted his family. Michael dragged a hand down his face with a sigh as Daffy seemed to rev up for another argument.
“Hey, hey, stop,” he said, waving Daffy away who huffed and steamed, stomping away and muttering about flightless birds. “Look, it doesn’t matter if he can fly or not, what I’m saying is, a wing isn’t like a hand or an arm or anything. Won’t he have trouble playing?”
“I dunno! Hey, Beep Beep!” Bugs yelled, waving at said ‘bird’. The roadrunner in question perked up, his clawed foot halfway to tugging on his own jersey, before putting it down to trot over. The coyote was right behind him, hiding a yawn as they stood before the duo. “Michael wants ta know if ya can play!”
“Beep beep!” he chirped, and Michael stared, looked at him, then at the coyote, then at Bugs.
“I mean, he said it all right there, doc.”
“Bugs,” he sighed, running a hand over his head, “I...I don’t speak roadrunner.”
The coyote, weirdly enough, pulled a sign from behind his back. ‘He said he used to play in high school. He won championship for them.’
“What is that??”
“C’mon, Michael, it’s rude ta ask about a family curse,” Bug whispered, which made him even MORE confused as the rabbit polished off a carrot, giving the coyote and roadrunner a salute. “Thanks, Wiley, knew we could count on ya!”
The coyote-Wiley?-just gave a little shrug as Michael felt the building pressure in his head, rubbing at his nose. “Okay, well, what about you? Do you play?”
Wiley tossed his head back and forth, then flipped the sign as the roadrunner tried to steal Bugs’ carrot, the rabbit yelping and leaping back as he was chased. ‘I’ve done worse. Can’t be harder than football, right?’
“I won’t go into that. Uh. Thanks, you guys can break.”
“That means GO AWAY, BEEP BEEP!!!” Bugs scrambled up Michael’s back, just like every other toon had done so far, wielding the carrot like a sword at the chirping bird. Said roadrunner stuck his tongue out, stomping a claw before trotting to the coyote and headbutting him with a trill. Wiley looked amused before walking after him, Bugs sighing and dangling off Michael’s shoulders as he took out a new carrot to chow down on. “Ugh, those two can’t resist a good chase, ya know?”
“Uh, yeah, I saw them-could you get off me?” He shook his arms, shaking his head when Bugs twirled on the ground, striking a pose. “I thought the coyote was always trying to eat him though. Kind of a surprise they’re not acting like Sylvester and Tweety.”
Who, speaking of, was currently taunting said cat by sitting on the rim of a basketball goal and cackling with each missed jump.
Bugs made a noise with his mouth, rolling his eyes. “That’s part’a the show, doc! Besides, they’re married, they wouldn’t hurt each other!”
“...they’re what???”
Explaining toon marriage to a human took far more time, effort, and chalkboards than anyone thought, but they didn’t have time to get into too much about traditions and the whys and hows of a bird and coyote getting together. They had to beat an alien race, after all!
(Michael, quite frankly, was impressed in Beep Beep’s (what a name!) wing maneuvers, but was very disappointed that all Wiley seemed to do was bounce the basketball off of the enemy’s heads.
Disappointed...but amused.
Watching the ball pinball between the aliens’ heads before flinging in the air for Beep Beep to fly up on a pair of rollerskates and dunk the ball was, admittedly, super cool.
Michael’s still really confused about the relationships between the toons, but he supposes it’s like anything else. Know each other for so long, fall in love, watch time fly before you know it and then you have a couple kids and you’re wondering what you’re missing out on because you can’t remember the last time you sat down with your family for dinner. You know each other though, what you like, the way your shirts are folded, and how each other sleeps, and you couldn’t imagine another life without them.
The Looney Toons wave goodbye to him as he goes to leave, and he hopes he can see them all again...
...you know, besides on TV.)
Written by a human in Ellipsus.