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"That's it! I've had enough! I want a divorce!" Daffy throws the remote over his shoulder. The sound of collision is followed by breaking glass and a concerningly heavy thud.
The argument has quickly lost reason in the bunny’s mind. One thing devolved into another, and then into the next, like the world’s most aggravating domino effect. Suddenly there was screaming and crying, that he’s pretty sure was fake but he’s backing away quickly in case it’s not.
"What are you talking about?" He asks, throwing his hands into the air.
"And I'm taking the kids!"
"We don't have kids." Good comeback, Bugs. Now Daffy stops his rage to give it a thought, setting both hands on his hips and tapping one foot. The bunny relishes in the pause, crossing his arms to look at him expectantly and tap his foot with the exact same rhythm. Daffy looks around the living room, searching wildly for another cause of extortion, before locking eyes with a framed picture.
"Then... Lola! I'm taking Lola with me. Tina, too. But that was obvious.” Once again, he glares at Bugs with a deep-set frown between his eyes. “And Porky can come, I guess." He rolls his eyes at the last addition.
"Daffy. We're not married." He says it slowly, enunciating every syllable, remembering the lessons from his theater days. It’s all about projection.
"Then let's get married!"
What?
Daffy, addicted to having the last word, drops that sentence like it’s a bomb prematurely going off. He walks away in a cloud of angry mumbling, leaving behind a very concerned best friend, who can’t quite make heads or tails out of the argument. Did he win?
"...And then I said, 'I want a divorce!'. And he was all like 'No, Daff, don't leave! I couldn't live without you!' But then of course I realised, we’re not even married!" The duck gesticulates wildly with his hands, raising the volume of his voice with every sentence. Tina has noticed the odd looks they get, a few necks almost broken trying to glare him to death. She doesn’t even bother anymore, learning to tune out anything that is not the salad under her fork.
The outraged speech finally leaves a pause, long enough for her to get in a comment: "I'm pretty sure the dictionary has a picture of you under the word 'ramble'." It’s not her finest work in terms of burns, but it will do. Daffy, of course, shows complete unflappability in his casual shrug.
"The good ones do. What does that have to do with anything?" He retorts, through a mouthful of complementary chips.
Wait, what were they even talking about?
"Also, what do you mean you're not married?" That part of the conversation she can remember. It was probably heard and echoed around the entire block.
"Well, we're not. When would we do that? How? You and I were dating! I'm not a cheater! You wound me." He’s genuinely incensed, and Tina has to squint at him as tight as she can without actually closing eyes.
"I don't know! I thought you guys were one of those new age, hippie couples or something.” She says, shaking her fork in his direction, trying to point out… Well, all of him. “You've said you're a free spirit."
"And I am, but I am also a man-"
"Duck."
"-of principle! And I would never cheat on my husband. " He ascertains, all conviction and no concern for the fact he just said husband.
"I guess." She shrugs and leaves it at that. The duck does whatever at any time, so it wouldn’t be surprising that all of sudden he decided–
"Anyhow. So now we're getting married."
"Say what now?"
"Of course, we'll need to sort out the invitations, but you understand that it's hard to send a thousand of those things overnight. They ask all kinds of questions at the post office! It's kind of romantic. Have I ever told you how we met?" His rambling voice is back in full force, eyes almost glazed over, lost in delirium.
"Can we go back to the marriage? You're having a wedding?"
"Sure we are. Why? Do you think the city hall is more sophisticated?" He suddenly perks up and rubs his chin, truly considering it. Bugs is definitely the type to go for something private, quiet, and reserved to family only. Well, that surely means he has to get started on the guest list. Really, there are so many things to think about, and hardly any time at all.
"No! I mean– When did that happen?"
"Don't be silly. I asked him for the divorce. We can't do that if we're not married. So now we're getting married." Daffy explains the very sound logic, like having to drag a child by the hand.
"Ah, right. That makes sense."
"I know, I should add 'genius' to my business cards." He agrees, with a self-sufficient smirk. He has clearly thought about it. There is probably a design drafted somewhere, and plans to visit Tina at her job before their next hang-out.
"You do that." She sighs, yet unable to let go of the bewilderment that clings to her face. "Can we get the check, please?" She waves to a passing waiter, already pulling out her purse. Before she can reach, a shiny card is carelessly slapped onto the table. Tina smiles. Well, hopefully the marriage means unlimited access to Mr. Bunny 's fortune.
"So you'll go? Can I RSVP you?" He smiles excitedly at her, almost jumping over the table to stare into her soul. She won’t say anything about how his tongue trips over the ‘RSVP’ part.
"Ha! Totally! I have to see this, I can't wait to see Lola." Now, that brings a smile to her face as well.
"Yeah! Ask if she's coming too."
They must look like a pair of maniacs, giggling over nothing. But this is what you get from weekly lunch with the duck. Life is never quite boring. She tilts her head in wonder, studying him for a second. "Well, if you think about it... I suppose this could be good for you."
"I know it will. But what do you mean?"
"See, you live together, you hang out all the time, you bicker all the time, you use his credit card..."
"He lets anyone just take it! it's ridiculous!"
"You even hold hands sometimes!" Again, the decibels are high all around their table. And the people just won’t stop gawking.
"Millions die everyday while crossing unassuming streets, Miss Russo." He states with a completely flat expression, pleading to be taken seriously. Does she not know how dangerous the outside can be?
"I'm just saying. Best friends get married all the time." Tina offers in response, hands raised as a sign of digression.
"I'm so glad you're on my side with this. It will be way easier to drag bugs to the altar with another pair of hands."
"Which do you prefer? White or cream? Ivory?" Daffy considers, holding up pieces of thin cardboard with various colour swatches. He tilts them this way and that, moving around to catch different angles of the lights. He's almost contorting himself too. "Maybe even gray…” He quietly ponders, lifting up one of the swatches closer to his eyes. It is quickly discarded to a pile of assorted items with no relation between them. None that Bugs can find. “No, that's ridiculous, gray is a hideous colour."
There should be a hint of offense somewhere deep in the bunny's mind. However, that side of his brain has been fried a long time ago, courtesy of that same duck. So, he merely shrugs. "I don't care either way."
"Ivory it is." Daffy selects one of the swatches and shoves it into a huge white binder. He works quickly, writing down something on one notebook and moving on to a different stack of swatches. "Now, blue looks great on you, but purple is more my shade... Then again, purple is not a wedding colour." He goes through the whole routine again, pulling swatches out of nowhere and throwing them around to scrutinize. "Unless we did lavender..." The duck adds, as he chews the back of a pencil.
"Why not both?"
Daffy seems to like that idea, frown raising minutely in consideration. He still stares a deathly laser into the swatches as he comes to a solution: "I'll have to ask Lola."
"What are you even planning?" Now Bugs has stood up from his very comfortable spot on the couch. He traverses the jungle that has become their dining space to find piles of magazines, other piles of notebooks, obviously the hundreds of colour swatches, and some more of those assorted items that seem to increase every time he looks away. All of it surrounds one singular white binder.
"The wedding palette, silly." He announces with a wide smile. For the first time, Daffy looks up from his work to pay attention to him.
"Oh, nice. Who's wedding?"
"Ours." His smile has only gotten wider, his pupils more dilated, his hair carelessly ruffled, altogether painting a truly diabolic expression.
"We're not having a wedding." Again, he tries to enunciate, to get his meaning through. Has he been speaking the wrong English? Hitting slang words he doesn't know about? Is it opposite day and nobody thought to tell him?
"I thought you might prefer the city hall, but I've decided that's just tacky." He explains, flipping to a page in his binder that unfolds a collage of random wedding pictures, next to a list of pros and cons. Ultimately, it all lies under thick red lines that cut the page across, adorned with the word ‘tacky’ in capital letters.
"That's not-"
"Also, I talked to our lawyers, they asked if we're changing names. Of course, I said we'd be taking mine." Now, that's just unacceptable.
"No way, Bugs Duck sounds awful. We'd take mine."
"I'm no Daffy Bunny, that's the stupidest name ever!"
"Well, surely we cannot hyphenate."
"Daffy Duck-Bunny? Am I a nursery rhyme? A botched experiment? Urban legend? No way!"
"Bugs Bunny-Duck does sound a bit odd."
"Egregious, even."
"Outrageous, if you will."
They stare at each other, entranced in their verbal sparring. It comes so easy to them that they hardly think about it anymore. It's like driving, or breathing, you just fall back into muscle memory and move along. Bugs doesn't even fight a grin. He can see that it infects Daffy's spirits as well, but he's too proud to give in.
"I suppose we can keep our names. But mine will always be written first." Daffy breaks the intense eye contact to go back to his binder, then writing something else in that notepad of his.
"That doesn't make sense, alphabetically, chronologically, in order of importance, from richest to poorest."
"You have to give me something!" Daffy slams his hands against the table. Several piles of paper fall onto the floor.
"Food? Money? A roof over your head."
Daffy crosses his arms tight against his chest. He's tapping his foot again. "Fine, but the parade float is all mine." He spits out begrudgingly, no change in position.
"Sure, doc."
"Daff!" He calls into the house, head peeking in through the backyard door. He lifts his sunglasses on his forehead to get a better look.
"Don't shout! I'm right here!" The duck complains, being just as loud.
"I went over your binder,” he declares, holding it up to the duck, “and we're gonna have to cut the guest list." Which is an understatement, really, but he has to lay it on slowly.
"You have one veto and one suggestion." Daffy warns with a pointed finger as he snatches his precious binder back. Bugs gives him an unimpressed stare and tilts his head.
"I veto half the guest list, then."
"Pretty sure that's not how vetos work."
"It's my wedding too!" he exclaims, quickly taken aback by himself. Still, he stands his ground and points a finger right back.
"Since when?"
"Since always!"
Daffy huffs out a laugh and shakes his head with emphasis. "Not without a proposal, mister." He immediately walks back into the house, exaggerating the movement of his hips.
"Fine!" The bunny yells, getting it in before he's out of earshot. His whiskers twitch with exasperation, and his mouth is still trying to find something else to throw back. "Have fun putting a bow on Taz!" Is the brilliant retaliation he settles on, seeing the devil in question break his sleep to look at him with adorable curiosity.
Finding a ring sounded easier in Bugs’ mind than it is turning out to be. He cleverly enlisted the help of a friend with eerily similar tastes to the duck, expecting the hunting to be quick and painless. He forgot to factor in that the friend gets distracted easily.
Unfortunately, he can’t be so cruel as to blame it all on Lola. The first store they stepped into felt like a bucket of cold water. Rows upon rows of velvet cushions supporting the widest arrange of gems that he has ever seen in his life. There were a few people in fancy formal uniforms, combed hair and sharp faces. They smiled at him like sharks, with their rows and rows of shiny teeth getting lost in the sea of pearls behind glass.
“How can I help you today, sir?”
“Uhhh… Rings.”
“Engagement rings!” Lola piped in from afar, getting manipulated into buying bracelets, or necklaces, or anything and everything.
“Congratulations!” She smiled even wider if that was possible, staring them down, scanning their souls with her empty blue eyes.
“Not us, silly! I’m just helping him out. He has terrible taste in… Everything!”
“Oh, I see. ” She said, offhandedly, digging the daggers of her eyes exclusively into Bugs, like she could decipher exactly who the fiancée was. Maybe even finding out that there wasn’t one.
"I love that ! Is it silver? I love silver. Or am I allergic to silver? Or was that nickel?" Lola rants, somewhere behind him, trying on a few different things and humming or groaning every now and then.
"Lola! Help me out here?" He yells out of the corner of his mouth, unable to escape the eye contact war he didn’t sign up for.
"Right." She answers, dropping all the jewelry onto the glass counter with a scary tink and clink. "Silver looks better on you." Lola affirms, hands on her hips.
"Not me! Daffy!" He turns towards her, and then back around to peruse the display of men’s engagement rings, which are sorely limited in options. For such an overwhelming store, they have quite limited worldviews.
"Oh, no, darling, Daffy would never wear something like that, it's just circles!"
"It's a ring, really." More than rings, they are pieces of metal with exorbitant prices printed onto them. He has to stare really hard at the bar code numbers on the little labels underneath and make sure not to confuse them with the actual price. He’s not doing a good job.
"Not without a diamond, it's not." She shoves a finger into his chest, eyebrows perfectly arched into a judgemental declaration.
"Fine."
They move to another section. It’s like Lola is jumping out of her own feet, bouncing and fluttering around, pointing at every single gem, and somehow finding the next biggest one. She abruptly stops, dramatically holding her hands in front of her mouth, failing to keep in a gasp that sucks in all of the oxygen from the store.
"This one! It 's so pretty!" She points at it with such effusiveness and determination that it’s hard not to listen to her.
"Think Daffy will like it?"
It’s… Gaudy. Excessive. Flashy.
Actually, that sounds about right.
"Does it even matter?” She shrugs at him, but she’s still entranced, lost in the spell of that gigantic, colourful piece of rock. “You said this was a prank."
"I mean, in a way.” He looks around, stalling. There is suddenly an urge to scratch his neck, check that his laces are tied, wonder if he turned the oven off. “It's not like it's serious. It's not, he just says things sometimes and he commits to the bit. He's great at that, he never runs out of bits, I swear."
"There you have it, then. I bet he will love anything, a ring pop would do the trick."
He snorts in reply. "Yeah, it would."
"Hey, Daff, have a word?"
"Bugs, I swear, I'm so busy with all the planning and you just sit around doing nothing–"
The bunny quickly slides the ring box across the dinner table, somewhere on top of a magazine or an envelope, precariously balanced but somehow staying upright.
"Marry me?" He asks, with unexpected earnestness. He had planned to look away immediately, to bite his tongue to hold in the laughter, maybe even get ahold of some pocket confetti that he can throw at his unhinged jaw. None of those thighs happen. Instead, Bugs finds his gaze transfixed, awaiting a reaction, expecting a hurricane but hoping for a… Well, he seems to be taking his time. Lost in thought, pausing every other task at hand to study the little black box, but saying nothing else.
Daff crosses his arms and looks him up and down. He’s blushing a bit, but he would never admit it. He takes it and opens it. His eyes are shining
Then he drops the box back onto the table. There is a deafening thud. Bugs’ heart stops for a moment.
"What? Am I supposed to put it on myself? Romance is well and truly dead."
Bugs smirks and takes the ring box, pulling out the little round thing, only catching the shimmering diamond in the reflection of the duck's eyes.
Somehow, by the power of movie magic, every little thing in that white binder comes to life. Bugs has to assume that there was a lot of help from friends and many favors called in. But it happens. It’s a perfectly sunny afternoon in the middle of summer. Everyone they knew was invited, and they all found the time to show up in beautiful suits and gowns. Someone did manage to wrap a pink bow around Taz and came out of it alive.
The venue was a quaint little garden, decorated with dainty pastel flowers, little satin bows, and the occasional garishly bright streamer hanging from wherever.
The ceremony went perfectly fine. There were crying babies, barking dogs (or devils), loud applause at inappropriate times, and confetti violently going up into their faces before they said ‘I do’. But they did say it, and it didn’t get lost in translation. They even kissed! They spent the rest of the night with bright red lipstick all over their faces.
There were drinks served and appetizers travelling between the guests. They served one carrot dish, too! Which was how Bugs burnt his only suggestion for the entire wedding.
All is good as the sun starts to set and the music starts to get unbearable. There might be karaoke later if they play their cards right.
"So, when are you getting divorced?" Tina manages to ask when they reach a lull in the conversation.
"Uhh... Later.” The duck waves his hands around, unbothered. “I want him to be shocked when I show him the papers."
"Sure, you better get a honeymoon out of him first." Tina smirks as she raises her glass in a toast. Daffy clinks his own against it and tilts his head in thought.
"You're right. That damn bunny better take me around Europe before he can even think about ditching me." He gets a look about his face, the kind that started the whole debacle. million trains of thought clogging the station, you can see smoke coming out of his eyes as he drafts plans in his mind.
"Excuse me, miss. May I steal my husband for a second? I fancy a dance with him." Bugs approaches them with his serious face, one hand behind his back and the other extended toward them. He flashes a ridiculously charming grin in Tina’s direction, and she doesn’t even stop her eyes from rolling.
"By all means, toothy."
There is no other response before the duck is suddenly manoeuvred against his will. His glass is abandoned on a table nearby, his hands have been taken with a firm, confident hold. They’ve twirled their way through the crowd and now Daffy finds himself in the middle of a dancefloor with his newly acquired husband, for the low low price of eternity.
Soft piano notes come from somewhere, the music notes seem to envelop them, lift up walls around them so that everything else falls away.
Daffy chuckles maliciously. "A wedding song and a first dance. This is all great ammunition for our divorce memories."
Bugs smiles at that, ears perked up. "Yeah! Me standing outside your window with a boombox and this playing? I'll get you back in no time." He assures him in that half-lidded stare, fully back in control of the situation. He knows the rules of the game now, and he can’t wait to start breaking them.
"I want a dress for our second wedding."
Bugs throws his head back in laughter. "You got it, doc."