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"Oh thank God," Said Paige, bursting through the antechamber into the pub floor. "Alright. We're just in time."
"And thank goodness for that," Kevin hissed, tugging down at her arm so they might stand out less than there already were, being the only two humans in the building, much less all of Toontown, Hollywood. "Now if you could just tell me what we aren't late for, that'll be just dandy."
"Oh, relax, Uncle." Said Paige, leading them both down confidently to a conveniently open table all the way at the back of the room, as far away from any more prying eyes. "You saw the letter. Wile E. invited us personally!"
"Yes, and the bouncer checked it off personally, I'm sorry I ever doubted you." Said Kevin, only somewhat ironically. To a passing penguin, he'd asked: "Gin and Tonic please. On the rocks."
The penguin waddled away with a grumble, a familiar begrudging acquiesce to all and any working in customet service. Paige declines anything besides a water.
"I don't really wanna miss this," She explained, as Kevin looked at her askew. "I've never really been to one of these."
A hush had begun to fall upon the room, save for a deliberate array of lights illuminating a trio of Toons plugging their instruments into the sound system, as well as an anticipatory limelight upon the stage.
"You don't say," Kevin drawled. "Well, that narrows it down to just about 54 different types of independent performances typical to run down alleyway pubs among Toons living in California."
"Hush!" Said Paige, apparently only half listening. "It's starting!"
How exciting. As the band began strumming a sharp, nostalgic toon, Kevin began people—well. Toon watching.
It was an oddly diverse crowd. And strangely packed. This late in September, there was always an air of chaotic business attributed to the two huge overlapping filming seasons of the year: Halloween and Christmas. The Gorilla in the red beret at the door had given them a strange look even when he'd approved the seal of the handwritten letter Paige had apparently gotten a week ago, inviting them both cross country for a one-night only performance, even among Toons.
He did not need to be told it had something to do with Wile E. Coyote. He was, at this point, too deeply intertwined in their social circle, and they were close enough now that the thought of such an uncharacteristic choice of leaving the dessert just to perform amongst Toons in Cali had gotten him intrigued.
It was odd, regardless, that he had sent for them by mail, instead of telling them directly.
Kevin surveys the curious crowd. That was Tom of Tom and Jerry on the electric guitar, the blue-gray of his fur unmistakeable even despite the lack of lighting in the room, though his thimble sized brown furred partner was nowhere to be immediately seen. Donald Duck on the trumpets, chatting quietly with a stage hand Kevin can't quite make out. There's a set of drums back there as well, though as he attempts to make out the drummer, he spots a familiar flash of blue instead, in prime seating angle to the stage.
"Hey," Said Kevin, nudging at Paige's shoulder. "It's Roadrunner. We should say hi after the show."
"Oh my god, " Said Paige. "They've really got everyone here."
Kevin turns to see what she means, and Paige is pointing discreetly as to what amounts as a viewing box in East top floor of the pub—probably what amounts to a VIP viewing seat. He could recognize the familiar flash of Bugs Bunny in a second, but it's the toon sat right next to him that nearly startles him straight.
Kevin meets Paige's own wide, impressed gaze. "What in the world is Mickey Mouse doing in this part of town?" He asked.
Paige shrugged. "Maybe Wile's just that good." She suggested.
"Good at what?" Kevin hissed, just as the last of the lights went down. The first riff of electric guitar began to hum through the speakers, and so Kevin will have to lean back and find out himself in a minute. Classic.
Daffy Duck took the stage dressed in a much nicer of Kevin's own choice attire tonight; a Navy blue blazer unbuttoned over a white undershirt, and a smile that gleamed under the limelights.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," He drawled. "Here, for your viewing pleasure. All the way over from Albuquerque, New Mexico...strap in folks, for the Slime!"
The beat drops, strumming loose, deep, seductive. The curtains shift, parting, and Kevin's jaw drops to his chest.
Drag.
Wile E. Coyote was here doing drag.
"Paige-,"
She isn't listening. "Oh wow," She breathes. "He looks gorgeous."
He does. Wile E. works the beat effortlessly, and it really is a good one for him. All tenor, bass, and strings sharp enough to flay you out to dry in a dessert heat. He's dressed in olive green, a skin tight evening gown accentuating the nip of his waist and the curve of his furred breast. It's plunges low, laced in string and ribbon, and a slit that runs nearly all the way up to his hip.
The audience hooted loud enough to bring the roof down.
A shift of movement pulls his attention, for just a second. Bugs Bunny had apparently leaned forward on his knees, eternal smirk growing into what accounts to more a leer as he too, appreciated the look of things. He sees his companion lean closer, whispering something into his rabbity ear.
Bugs twitched, mouth moving without taking his eyes off the stage.
His companion laughed—high pitched and all Hollywood.
Kevin frowns.
He's brought back to the present from the sound of beeping, like a militant bomb alert. Roadrunner had reached his wings onto the stage, grasping at the ruby red 12 inch stilletos that made Wile look all the taller, complimenting the arch of his back and calves. He was come close to swaddle the mic, and Kevin could see that in lieu of a wig, his ears flopped across the front of one eye, and he'd painted the lid of the other in a shade of emerald that glitters under the spotlight. His smirk brought chills up your spine. Someone in the crowd began chugging like a steam engine.
"Settle down, naughty boy."
The Averys jump, meeting the other's wide, startled eyes. Wile E. spoke. A deep, refined rumble of an English Academic that almost didn't fit him, if not for the sharp, droll of teeth. He shook off his leg, and Roadrunner chirps on overdramatic agony—Toon through and through. The crowd laughs in good humor.
Gloved fingers came back to swaddle the mic, and in lieu of singing, Wile E. growled.
"I am gross and perverted
I'm obsessed and deranged
I have existed for years
But very little has changed."
His words are sharp, biting, his canines gleaming under the spotlight. The crowd goes wild.
"I'm the tool of the Government
And industry too
For I am destined to rule
And regulate you."
Wile E steps off the stage, a toon bear guiding him to step across various pub tables. His tail curls seductively around Thomas O'Malley, who whistles and fans himself. His tablemates cried in false envy.
"I may be vile and pernicious,"
Wile E steps off a pub table and onto the floor on each beat of his syllables.
"But you can't look away,"
Abruptly, his fingers reach out to pull Roadrunner's attention, the tip of a single talon beneath his beak.
"I make you think I'm delicious
With the stuff that I say,"
Roadrunner beeps, high and keening. Like he couldn't help it. Another wolf whistle echoes through the crowd as Wile E. bares his teeth, pulling the Roadrunner along by the tip of his finger.
"I'm the best you can get
Have you guessed me, yet?
I'm the slime
oozin' out
From your TV set."
Wile E. pulls away abruptly, allowing Roadrunner to fall onto the floor of the venue with a hilarious thump. Kevin's too far away to see, but he could only imagine the bird was bleeding. Blood stains the tip of Wile's gloved finger, that he runs across his own lips like lipgloss.
Wile E. smirks.
Despite himself, Kevin whistles lowly. Paige chuffs in laughter.
"You will obey me while I lead you
And eat the garbage that I feed you,"
Wile E. rounds, next, on Tina Russo's table, growling into her ear. She giggled, and her hen party squealed.
"Until the day that we don't need you
Don't go for help, no one will heed you,"
He steps back onto the pub tables, slinking his way back onstage.
"Your mind is totally controlled
It has been stuffed into my mold,"
Wile E pressed his back into the wall, approximating a swoon, summoning the line of his throat into sharp relief.
"And you will do as you are told
Until the rights to you are sold,"
"That's right, folks. Don't touch that dial!"
Daffy's voice almost immediately zaps you out of the immersion, loud and grating. A trio of chorus girls picks up the beat as Wile E returns his mic to the stand.
"Well, I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor
I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, look at me go,"
Wile E meets Bugs' gaze, winking. Bugs winked back. Kevin gapes.
"I am the slime from your video
Oozin' along on your livin' room floor
I am the slime from your video
Can't stop the slime, people, look at me go."
Tom gets back to his riffing, taking back the spotlights as he showcased his prowess on the guitar. It's the come down Wile E needs to slink back behind the curtains. The chorus girls hum to the beat. Daffy bows.
"Wile E Coyote, folks, and the Slime! Thank you, and good night!"
"I never knew you could speak." Kevin says petulantly, once they'd all been gathered backstage.
They all, in this case, meant himself, Paige and the Roadrunner, shoved into the slightly cramped confines of Wile E's dressing room, having all since invites themselves and Wile E. himself not declining them. Paige isn't the sort to take no for an answer anyhow.
The man of the hour scoffs, rubbing a cotton wad across his eyes soaked in industry grade miscellar. It still leaves glitter across the fur of his snout.
"Don't listen to him Wile E," Paige assured him. "You were great!"
"The talking could have also been great while we were working on your lawsuit." Kevin persists. Wile E twists around to level him with a glare, just as Paige chides him with a disapproving cry of "Uncle!"
Roadrunner beeps, pecking at him with his beak. Kevin flinches.
"Ow! I'm just saying!"
Wile E stands from his vanity, sign pulled aloft from his Hammerspace.
Not always. It says. Toon rules.
Kevin sighed. "Right." He said. "Only if it was funny."
"I remember you talking back in those old comic books the Warner Brothers commissioned for," Paige added, hesitantly. Wile E scoffs, pulling out a different sign.
Different, it read. Wile E flips it around. That was still text.
Well, that made sense. It seemed he was in no airs for further discussion on the matter, anyhow. He doesn't return to his vanity, arms stretched around himself for the laces pinned low on the back of his corset. He growls, in much the same way he had onstage, eyes still half lidded in exhaustion. His ears were still flopped across one eye, twitching.
"Oh," Said Kevin. "Here, let me help-,"
Wile E bats his fingers away, glaring. Roadrunner beeps loudly, shoving him out of the way. Kevin stumbles.
"Whoa! Alright, okay!"
Wile E huffs, staying still as Roadrunner used his beak to carefully unlace the back of his corset. Funny that, thought Kevin with an eye roll. It was like his wings had suddenly lost all hand like dexterity and he simply must employ his mouth to lick across Wile E.'s back.
Wile E runs his fingers beneath Roadrunner's beak once he was done, smirking as he leaves the bird chirping, pupils carved into bubbly pink hearts. Despite being more familiar with the sight of his friend-and-client in the nude, Kevin's glad to see Wile E ducking behind a changing screen to finish dressing down. They could still see his slightly erotic silhouette from the shadow of the screen though, which was why Kevin chose to turn away. Roadrunner shamelessly wolf whistled.
"I'm glad you let us in for your performance tonight Wile E," Paige said happily, thoughtlessly snooping on Wile E's stage cosmetics. "I've never been to a Drag show before, but I'm honored. You're a real vet—like seeing Bob the Drag Queen in his prime."
Wile E. scoffs, loudly. He holds another sign up, text somehow casting legible shadows through the screen.
Past my prime, it reads. He flips it. Still better, though.
There's a lengthy pause. Wile E raises a different sign.
Thank you, it reads.
Paige aww-s. Kevin scrunches his nose up in distaste of the sentiment.
"It was my pleasure, Wile E."
Roadrunner cocks his head, though, like he'd noticed Paige saying something strange. He beeps, rapid and deliberate. Wile E shifts around, like he'd been surprised.
Paige frowns. "Sorry, Roadrunner, could you repeat that? I couldn't-,"
Something clicks in Kevin's head, with a certainty that startled him.
"Wile E. didn't send us an invite."
Paige's head whips around, shocked. Her eyes dart quickly between the Roadrunner, and Wile E's silhouette. "What? What do you mean? Who did?"
Kevin had his suspicions, but didn't dare to speak them aloud. Not here. Not yet. But he could say; "Someone with enough pull to let two humans through Toon Town this time of year."
This time of year, of course, meaning the start of Fall. Two seasons of filming shoots and holiday specials in a busy town of actors—into a shady part of town, mixing toons of various rivalling studios.
Had it been Wile E. himself, it would've made sense. Their Washington Trial and overall publicity of a highly political case, despite their overall loss, had won Wile E a lot of favours and a greatly beneficial grace period of influence. It helped that he was, apparently, the one performing tonight.
But if it hadn't been Wile E., it had to have been someone with a lot of pull regardless, or at least the notoriety to be pulling a lot of risky strings. Kevin and Paige weren't just civilians—they were human lawyers, currently in hot water with a lot of dangerous people.
It isn't just the who, either. It was the why.
Kevin frowns. "I mean, you did point out that this was a weird sort of place to have a working dinner."
Roadrunner beeps in query. Paige shifts uncomfortably. Kevin looked between the two of them, gobsmacked.
"I mean, come on!" Kevin said. "They were shaking hands and everything!"
Roadrunner beeps another query, frustrared. Wile E's silhouette perks up. He holds up another sign.
Who? Flip. The Mouse?
"Yes!" Said Kevin, before consciously bringing his voice back down into an indoor volume. "I mean, who brings out their work colleague out to see a drag show the night before one of the biggest Toon studio merges in the 20th century?"
Roadrunner ruffled his feathers in discomfort, discontent at the mention of the merger. He beeps twice sternly in a way that almost sounds like Bugs Bunny would.
"Yeah, well. Bugs is," Kevin pauses, consideting. "Bugs. But do you think that Mickey Mouse was the kind of person still slumming it down at a back alley drag show two months before Christmas?"
Wile E scoffs, holding up another sign. Not my business how he gets his rocks off without his wife around.
"What are you trying to say?" Paige asked, looking at him critically. "That it wasn't him? That he and Bugs are up to something behind everyone's backs?"
"I'm saying," Said Kevin. "That Bugs been trying to get his latest movie off the floor for the last five years, and it's been getting harder and harder to Toon even when you were on the top of the food chain in some of the biggest media conglomerates in the game."
Paige and Roadrunner exchanged another hefty look. Wile E sighed, shoving the screen his dressing screen aside, now mostly nude save for a dirty, well worn riding jacket.
He holds up a new sign. Can we take this to the car? Flip. I'd rather not discuss controversial politics on an empty stomach.
Kevin sighed.