ToonZ - My Two Cents

It was not often that Mickey found himself walking into Warner Brothers studios at lunch hour on Thursdays—Bugs was normally on time, waiting outside for the mouse to pick him up for lunch. While Mickey was better at organizing his career and office yet had a poor sense of time, Bugs was very much the opposite.

But there he was, waving up at the security guard and walking into the main building. He opened the front door and was about to greet the next guard when six ponies trotted by with bags over their backs. The mouse stepped out of the way while holding the door open for them, and each one greeted him with a polite smile and a friendly hello.

The purple one came in last and nodded her head in his direction. “Hello and thank you, Mister Mouse,” she said before continuing on her way.

Mickey stepped into the doorway and watched them leave before tilting his head and scratching it. “Uh, hello and you’re welcome, Twilight?” he muttered in confusion. His ears twitched at the familiar sound of padded feet headed his way, and so he turned around and eyed the four-foot tall hare in curiosity. Pointing out the door, he said, “I thought they were owned by Hasbro.”

Bugs shrugged before saluting the security guard. “Dey are,” he replied. “Dey’re just here to do a crossover episode.” He walked by the mouse while patting him on the shoulder. “Cartoon Netwoik. Dey were here to sign papers and den head out.”

“Huh; I’ve never heard of two different companies doing crossovers,” Mickey mumbled as he followed the rabbit out. “I thought that ever since the uh… Incident of 1943, they had deemed studio crossovers unmanageable.”

“The Hub and CN are on good toims,” Bugs replied. “Besides; it was just a thing dey did for deh kids. Some fan contest or somethin’.” He stopped by the mouse’s yellow car and looked back at him. “Speakin’ of crossovers, how’s deh one Disney’s woikin’ on?” he wondered as Mickey unlocked the doors and they both stepped into the vehicle.

“Which one?” Mickey replied as he started the motor.

“Which one? Dis is deh foist one, Cheesehead.”

“You mean the Marvel one?”

“Yeah. With dose stepbrother newcomers to the gang.”

Mickey smiled at these words and drove out of the parking lot. “Phineas and Ferb aren’t newcomers, Bugs,” he replied. “They’ve been part of the TV Animation Core for nearly five seasons now.”

“Dat aside, how’s it goin’? You were doin’ some supervising on it, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. And it’s going swell. A bit of a hassle now and then, but the PnF crew seem to be enjoying themselves. Perry’s actually been spending a lot of time in the break room with Uncle Scrooge when he comes over for shows.”

Bugs raised an eyebrow at this and shot the mouse a credulous look. “He what?” When all Mickey did was laugh, the rabbit continued: “What, does dat duck speak Platypus now? Though I wouldn’t be surprised, considerin’ who deh guy is.”

“I dunno; they seem to understand each other fine. Uncle Scrooge says he’d rather spend time with a platypus than listening to Donald all day.” Mickey turned down another street before checking over his shoulder for traffic in the next lane. “But can we change subjects? I came to getcha for our weekly lunch outing, so let’s forget about work. I hate talkin’ about work on our time out together. Ya know how stressed I get.”

Bugs held up his hands and shrugged before turning his eyes outdoors. “So, where we headed today? Wanna try dat new restaurant again?” He cast a glance at Mickey, and to his amusement found the rodent to be wrinkling his nose in disgust and his ears almost pressed against his head. “I guess I’ll take dat as a no?”

“Every time we go to a restaurant that’s new or popular, especially among kids, I can’t get a moment’s rest,” Mickey grumbled. “No sense of privacy whatsoever.”

“Whoa, is Mickey Mouse tired of his audience?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I love kids,” he said. “I love everyone who cares about me, and who believes in the things I can do. As much as I give them hope, they give me hope.” His eye twitched. “But even Mickey Mouse needs a break. Especially when I’m trying to have a relaxing lunch out with my pal from Warner Brothers. We don’t hang out together in public often so give this mouse his space!”

“Hate to break it to ya Mick, but dat’s deh reason everyone wants to talk to us,” Bugs pointed out. “We’re our company’s mascots, companies that have been heavy duty rivals since the beginning. Your creator set a massive amount of rules for you hence the disapproval from other Toon Creators—!”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, there!” Mickey exclaimed, sitting upright and frowning at the rabbit. “You have no right to speak about Walt that way, Bugs!”

“Come on, Mick, you know it’s true,” Bugs replied as he turned in his seat to face the mouse. “I didn’t say anything against him, only dat his way of thinkin’ sometimes seemed a little bit extreme—!”

“He took extra measures to keep the gang and me safe and protected,” Mickey snapped while yanking on the steering wheel—he turned so sharply that Bugs would have been thrown out of his seat had he not been wearing his seatbelt. “Everything he did, he did it for the good of his Toons. After losing Oswald to Universal Studios—!”

“You know he knew he had lost Oswald even before dey ripped Walter off,” Bugs argued, furrowing his brow.

“But he still took more precautions in keeping us intact!”

“Mickey, you cannot tell me dat dhere was not even one time where you felt like you were in a prison.”

Mickey fell silent at these words. The only thing he did was slow the car down to a halt at a red light.

Bugs looked on in silence before lowering his ears. “You and I both understand the severity of contracts dat our companies have tied us to,” he said. “And not the entire Disney Core and Looney Tunes; just us two. And we both know dat you got the stricter contract due to all dem copyright rules. You can’t tell me dhere wasn’t one day where you felt like you were literally a mouse in a cage.”

Mickey remained silent for a moment longer before his ears fell and his brown eyes lost their spark. They clouded over as he let out a sigh. “Walt was just scared of losing me the same way he lost rights to Oswald,” he muttered. “He was protective, I’ll admit it; and it still irritates me that I need to let the studios know about any big thing I plan on doing. But I understood why he did it… even if it frustrated me at times…”

“If it makes ya feel better, Mick, I had four guys direct me,” Bugs replied while placing a hand against his chest. “And den some. And I unfortunately lost contact with Tex Avery hardly a few weeks after he quit woikin’ at WB. I mean, my own creator didn’t frankly care very much about me or any other Looney Tune he designed after leavin’—not dat I think any lower of him, he was an inspiration and just felt like movin’ on. At least you spent loads of time with Walt. You try havin’ to take orders or havin’ to report your doins to four different humans.” Bugs paused here before pulling himself away and looking out the window. “Point is, who we are and who our creators were are deh reasons why we can’t enjoy ourselves in public very often. Had dey gotten along, maybe we wouldn’t have to live deh consequences of deir mistakes.”

They remained silent until the traffic light turned green. Mickey did not move the car right away, taking his time to pull his foot off the brakes. His ears rose a little and he cracked a smile. “Heh; humans are nuts,” he mumbled.

Bugs grinned momentarily before crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry I rattled you up about your Creator, Mick,” he said. “You know I didn’t mean anything against him. I don’t agree with a lot of things he did, but I won’t deny dat he was a genius when it came to creativity.” Bugs paused again and smiled once more. “I mean, takes some imagination to make a rodent as optimistic as you.”

At these words, Mickey let out a chuckle and his ears rose up again. “Well, WB did a pretty good job at fleshin’ you out,” he said. Turning down another path, he continued: “Let’s go to our favorite café again,” he said. “You know, the one on the edge of Duckburg.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

*****

The sound of the chimes singing when the door to the corner café was open made Mickey grin. He and Bugs often came to this café due to its quietness and the workers. For decades, ever since they had begun to befriend each other in secret, the staff at the café had respected their privacy and had never revealed to anyone that the stars of Warner Brothers and Disney had chosen their café as their favorite amongst many.

Bugs closed the door behind Mickey and waved at the woman behind the desk before scanning the area. He inhaled. “Ah, nothin’ beats fresh coffee for a hard woikin’ Toon,” he said while rubbing his stomach. “Same as usual, Cheesehead?”

Mickey chuckled. “Hold the cheese this time, though,” he said, making Bugs laugh in turn. Just as they were making their way to their usual booth, someone sitting nearby at another window seat caught his attention. His ears stood up high as Mickey did a doubletake and nudged Bugs in the side. When questioned, all Mickey did was raise his finger and point.

The owner of the café, Secondary Disney star and the richest Toon alive, Scrooge McDuck, was quietly stirring some tea while staring out the window. His free hand was sitting against his cheek, supporting his head. Being hardly a head taller than Mickey, he, like most Toons, was unable to reach the floor with his feet when sitting on human-sized chairs; therefore his webbed feet swung lazily back and forth.

Bugs furrowed his brow and shared a confused look with the mouse before the two of them headed over to the duck. Mickey cleared his throat upon approaching the table. “Uh, good afternoon, Uncle Scrooge,” he said, catching the duck’s attention. “I hope the morning treated you well.”

Scrooge looked up at the two Toons before clearing his throat and pulling his hand away from his face. “Uh, aye, for the most part,” he replied while sitting up straight. He pulled his hat off of the table as Mickey and Bugs sat down across from him. “Ah did some rounds, mostly by foot. Needed the exercise.”

“Whatcha doin’ here?” Bugs asked.

“Takin’ a wee break.”

“I thought you weren’t a fan on eatin’ out unless it was one of your fancy restaurants.” Bugs pointed at the duck and smiled amusingly. “You know; deh whole tightwad thing.”

Scrooge recoiled at this before glaring at the rabbit. “Ah can eat wherever Ah wish, Varmint,” he snapped. After a momentary pause, he waved a hand in the air and went back to stirring his tea. “That and Ah own this shop, therefore Ah can have mah meal for free, unlike you bums.”

Mickey nudged Bugs in the side while frowning, something he did often when his friend said one too many jokes to irritate the wealthy duck. The rabbit shrugged apologetically in reply before rising to his feet again. “I’ll go get our usual, Mouse,” he said while walking off.

Mickey watched the hare head off until Scrooge cleared his throat. The rodent looked at him, knowing he had done so to catch his attention, and found that the duck had returned to his former position. “Ah suppose Ah’m glad you two stopped here for lunch again, Mickey,” he said. “The Lads are gone on a swimming trip with Dudley, Donald and Daisy, so it’s been a wee bit lonely.”

“You still have Webby, Duckworth and Launchpad, don’t you?” Mickey reminded him.

Scrooge sighed without looking up. “Aye,” he mumbled. “But it’s not the same all the time. Webby can only be so much, Duckworth sticks strictly to his duties, and Launchpad…” He made a bit of a grimace here before shuddering. “Well, his heart’s in the right place, Ah’ll admit, but he’s short of a few screws. Make that a few dozen.” He rolled his eyes. “Ah’m gettin’ soft; loneliness hasn’t gotten to me this badly since Ah traveled the world raisin’ money for me family… And 1930, of course.”

“You’re always welcome at my home, Uncle Scrooge,” Mickey reminded him with a smile. “The kids would love to have you around.”

Scrooge looked up at him momentarily until he noticed Bugs arriving. His gaze caused Mickey to turn his head as well, until Bugs had taken his seat next to him. He set two sandwiches down and two drinks. “When I said we were eatin’ with Mister McDuck, dey said it was on deh house,” he noted, not forgetting to smile even the least bit deviously at the bird across from him.

Scrooge narrowed his eyes and shot him an icy glare, which only made Bugs chuckle and shrug in reply. The rabbit expected to hear the duck give him another one of his lectures, but to his surprise, Scrooge simply let out a sigh while rolling his eyes and looked at his tea. “Bah; Ah’ll let it slip this once,” he mumbled as he stirred the cup’s contents. “Ah’m not in a good headspace to even care about your sneakiness, Bugs.”

Bugs raised his eyebrows and looked at Mickey for an explanation. The mouse shook his head in reply before picking up his sandwich. “So, Bugs was tellin’ me last week that he got to accompany Ashton’s class on the fieldtrip to that zoo you own, Uncle Scrooge,” Mickey announced, although the quadzillionaire hardly flinched. “He saw the new monument you commissioned. Thought it was swell, didn’tcha, Bugs?”

The rabbit mumbled behind his food before wiping his lips and nodding. “When I say you know how and where to put your money, Mister McDuck, I ain’t kiddin’,” he said. “How many gold karats is it?”

Scrooge continued to stir his tea, not looking up once, before shrugging in reply. “Eh, a measly ten,” he said. “Ah don’t like spendin’ even that much on public monuments very often; some young hooligan will come around one day and do something daft, like graffiti, so it’s a waste of me money. But the zoo’s employees have been workin’ hard this summer, so Ah figured Ah’d get them the new monument free of charge this time. Ten karats is as high as Ah was willin’ to go.”

“Sounds delish.”

At these words, the duck closed his eyes and shook his head. “Ah’m really not in the mood to hear one of your smart remarks today, Lad,” he said. “Ah hope Ah donnae sound rude, but nao’s not a very good time.”

Bugs lowered his ears and nearly flushed with embarrassment until Mickey cleared his throat. “Is everything alright, Sir?” the mouse wondered. “Does it have anything to do with your fortune? Did you need Disney to add a few more traps? If the Beagle Boys—!”

“Mah fortune’s fine, Mickey,” Scrooge interrupted. “This has nothin’ to do with uh… business…” He trailed off for a moment or two before clearing his throat and staring out the window. “Ah, um, Ah’m gonnae need to take the next four weeks off as usual, Mickey. Ah know it’ll mean cutting off time for another show’s rehearsal we had for Disney World at the end of the month, but Ah cannae concentrate again. Ah thought it would get easier as time went by, but Ah suppose even Scrooge McDuck can make miscalculations…”

Mickey leaned over the table towards him. “Wh-whataya mean ya need to take the next two weeks off?” he asked. “No one at the studios upset you again, did they? Or is it the script? Are you not satisfied with your lines again?”

“Like Ah said, it’s got nothin’ to do with business…”

“How about Donald?”

At these words, Mickey was able to make Scrooge crack a grin, even if it was very small one. Once it had disappeared, the duck’s eyes clouded over. “Honestly, Ah’d rather have him being the stress issue this time.” Scrooge mumbled. He waited until Bugs had pulled the now concerned mouse back into his seat before he raised his left wrist and looked at his watch. “Mm, Ah should be gettin’ back to me money bin,” he said, more or less to himself. “… But Ah don’t even feel like tossin’ out another tax collector through the window again… August just… it isn’t me month anymore—!”

“August?” Mickey echoed as his ears stood up. He pulled out his cellphone and checked the date, while Bugs looked on curiously, before gasping and covering his mouth. “Gosh darn, I completely forgot,” he said. Setting his phone down he looked at Scrooge again. “I’m so sorry it slipped my mind, Sir,” Mickey apologized—Bugs was even more confused by this point. “Ya know how August is one of those months that keeps me pinned to the office chair or trapped in the parks. I hope I didn’t—!”

“You apologize every year, Mickey,” Scrooge groaned as a frown settled over his brow.

“W-well considering the first time I sorta—!”

“Ah really donnae want to revisit that day, please. Ah just wanted to tell ye that Ah probably need the time off. Since you’re the mouse in charge, Ah’d rather tell you than any human back at the studios.”

Mickey tapped a finger anxiously over the table top before pulling out his wallet and opening it. This action caused both Bugs and Scrooge to recoil.

“I can pay for your flight again,” Mickey insisted as he pulled out his check book. “I-I can send you wherever you’d like; didja wanna visit Miss Goldie again, or—!”

“Put that stupid thing away,” Scrooge snapped as he stood up on his chair and slapped the end of his cane over Mickey’s hand. “Ah don’t need Mickey Mouse payin’ for my vacation every blasted year, so if ye even think of puttin’ down even a single zero, Ah’ll give you a good one!”

Mickey shrunk back when the duck slapped his hand and obediently tucked his things away. Bugs, who was still looking on in silence, cleared his throat and leaned over once the two Toons had gotten back in their seats. “Eh, should deh Looney Tune assume dis conversation is strictly Disney Toon only?” he asked, “Cuz if it ain’t, I’d like to know what’s so special about deh month of August.”

“It’s not the month that’s special, just one day,” Scrooge replied after having recollected himself. He straightened some of his hair before clearing his throat and pulling his glasses from his bill in order to clean them. “Although, that one day isn’t what Ah’ personally call special, either. More like a scar.” Bugs did not ask him of this day, which was something Scrooge had come to appreciate about the rabbit; he was always ready to wait patiently for the answer to come. Setting his glasses down over his nose, Scrooge reached for his cup of tea and held it up to his mouth. “August 25th is Carl Barks’ passin’,” he muttered before drinking.

Now his mood made sense. Bugs’ ears rose in revelation as he watched the duck sip quietly at his tea. Twiddling his thumbs, the rabbit could still recall that day in 1999, a few months after Dudley Duck’s birth. Scrooge had been given a blessing and a suffering all within four months. Something such as that had not been heard of amongst Toons since the passing of Walter Disney. The Duck family was ready to head out on a camping trip with the human when his daughter had given Scrooge a call to announce his Creator’s passing. Like Mickey with Walt, Scrooge had taken it incredibly hard, to the point that he was given a leave of absence from work until after Christmas that same year. Mickey had paid for his entire family to go spend one month in the Klondike with Goldie, and then one month in Scotland with Scrooge’s sister and brother-in-law. The vacation had done Scrooge some good, but he still stayed away from work until January upon his return. And it wasn’t until the following summer that the duck decided to take another swim in his three-cubic acre Money Bin.

“Ah still don’t get it,” Scrooge muttered, catching Bugs’ attention and pulling the rabbit’s mind back into the present moment. As he turned the teacup between his hands, the duck added, “Mickey got over Walt’s passin’ fairly quickly. Didn’t you, Lad?”

Mickey’s ears rose when his name was mentioned, and after a momentary pause he shrugged in reply. “Well, it was easier to bear thanks to Minnie, Bugs and yourself, Sir,” he replied. “It was a hard time for everyone on the crew, Donald included, but I suppose it did hit me hardest.”

“Ya got over it though.”

“Well, it still hurts when that day comes around, but yeah, I suppose I did.”

Scrooge let out another sigh and slid down in his chair. His eyes grew tired. “If Ah was able to help you in some way, why does me own Creator’s passin’ still hurt this badly?” he whispered. “It’s as if it’s brand new every year. An old wound openin’ up. Ah cannae think straight at work because Ah think back to all the qualities he gave me. He made me so real, so human you might say, that Ah was alive even before he drew me out in 1947. The life Ah had that he and Keno put in writing actually happened. And all of that, even the negative parts that made me… me… all come back durin’ this one blasted month a year, as if to plague me.” He frowned as his eyes glazed over. “It isn’t enough that Ah was greedy and selfish, eventually losin’ both of my sisters and left alone to wallow in me misery; nao Ah have to deal with this every year.”

Bugs took a final bite out of his sandwich as the two Disney Toons went silent. He wiped his mouth and cleared his throat before placing his hands together over the table. “We are who we are because of the faulty humans who drew us,” he said, catching both Mickey and Scrooge’s attention. “Toons are the spark of life dat Humanity has lost. We are deh proof dat creativity is immortal, and all dat our creators were is presoived in us by just one woid; imagination.” He looked at Mickey after a momentary pause and smiled. “Chuck told me dat a few years ago,” he said casually. “He was basically summing up why deh passin’ of a Creator is so hard on us, when we can easily get back on our feet and just move on when somethin’ more tragic happens in deh news.”

Bugs placed a hand over his chest. “We are the living embodiment of our designers,” he said. “Kinda like God or Allah or deh Big Bang, or whoever else dem Humans believe in. We spend our every wakin’ moment with dem, or knowin’ dat dey’re watchin’ over us. We slowly become deh vessels of deir legacies. Deh more time we spend with deh humans who gave us life, deh more we see just how much of demselves dey poured into us. Unfortunately, unless our Sources went out as quickly as human life did, spendin’ more and more time with deh humans we cared about left bigger scars on our being den gettin’ run over by a truck or blown up by dynamite.”

He pointed at Mickey. “You spent every wakin’ moment with Walt, when you weren’t with Minnie, Donald or Goofy, or even Pluto. When you woiked at deh studios, you were by dat guy’s side. You loved him so much, was grateful for everything he gave you, dat you felt as though your heart had been ripped out deh day he died.”

He looked at Scrooge next and shrugged while smiling pitifully. “An’ while you feel like you should be over Mister Barks’ passin’, it’s understandable dat you ain’t, Mister McDuck,” the rabbit continued. “You went to visit him once every week if he wasn’t in deh area. When he was woikin’ for Disney, writin’ comics, you were with him almost as often as Cheesehead was with Walt. He was deh only human who could tolerate such an impatient perfectionist as yourself, and you liked dat. While you were as snappy with him as you were with anyone else, you laughed more with him dan with your own nephews. Everything you are, you owe it to him. Dat simple.”

Bugs took a sip from his drink before continuing. “You also knew him for much longer dan Cheesehead knew Walt, which was why you were hit hard when he passed away. Deh thing about you Disney Toons, no matter how independent you are, you’ll always be sentimental—way more dan us Looney Tunes. Because dat was deh way you were created; to connect with people on a more emotional scale. Deh LTs connect with dem in a more humoristic way. Our creators and designers are kinda molded into a team of people rather dan one guy alone. Dat made it easier for us to get back on our feet. Sure, I wish I coulda gotten to know Tex better, and heck, I was pretty gloomy when Chuck passed away. But because we were trained to know about deh things you guys experience emotionally, and because of our level of entertainment, we can get back on our feet faster.” He looked at Scrooge once more before winking and folding his arms behind his head. “So you missin’ Mister Barks ain’t a bad thing, Sir,” he concluded. “It’s just natural. He was such a big part of your being dat it’s hard to miss when August comes around. So don’t worry about not gettin’ over it. Ya don’t grieve him any longer dan a few weeks nowadays, so you’re just as normal as any other Toon here.” He paused before chuckling and closing his eyes. “Dhere. Dat was Bugs Bunny’s two cents. You’re welcome.”

Mickey and Scrooge looked on in silence before the duck wrinkled his bill. “More like two hundred cents,” he muttered, making Mickey laugh.

Bugs shrugged in reply.

“Though that was quite nice to hear. So thank you, Lad.”

Mickey nudged Bugs in the side. “Ya always had the right words to say,” he said.

Bugs looked at him. “Someone’s gotta be deh smart one with Daffy around all deh time,” he replied. Setting his arms down and crossing them over the table, he looked from the mouse to the duck. “So, McDuck’s gonna take a break again,” he said, replied by a nod from Scrooge, “And Cheesehead’s not gonna pay for him.” Looking at the mouse, he added, “What about payin’ for him today? You’re not busy until two, and I actually have deh afternoon off until I go pick Ashton up from Penny’s. Should we do somethin’? Though it’s kinda odd havin’ the two younger Toons treatin’ out deh—!”

“If you even think of callin’ me old, Ah’ll slap you,” Scrooge snapped at him.

Bugs raised his hands in defense while Mickey giggled. The mouse waited until they had eased down once more before looking at his cellphone. “Well, I remember Donald telling me that his uncle hasn’t seen the new exhibition at the museum nearby.” He looked at Scrooge, who tilted his head in curiosity. “Treasure hunters galore.”

Scrooge’s eyes lit up.

“Donald said that if anything would make you feel better any time, a refreshing look at artifacts and old legends of treasure would lighten you up.”

“Why haven’t Ah heard about this exhibition yet?” the duck said. When all Mickey did was shrug, Scrooge drank the last of his tea and slapped his hat over his head. “Gettin’ back to work won’t do me any good, so we might as well get a move on, Laddies,” he added while stepping away from the table. “If it’ll keep me mind off of things until Ah get on the plane to Scotland later this week. Ah walked here from the Money Bin, so callin’ Duckworth will only waist precious time and money. If ya want to pay anythin’ for me, Mickey, pay for a cab.”

“Or he could pay for gas, since he’s got his car here,” Bugs said while pointing out the window.

Scrooge peered outside at the little yellow vehicle and seemed to refrain himself from saying anything rude. He shuddered before looking at the mouse. “Ah’ll… sit in the back,” he muttered before walking off.

Mickey rolled his eyes as Bugs laughed. “I love it whenever he realizes he’s gotta get in a cheapo car to go somewhere,” the rabbit said. He began walking off. “Maybe I’ll bunny-burrow to the museum to race you—!”

“I admire Uncle Scrooge as much as you do, Pal,” Mickey interrupted while pulling the rabbit back towards him. “But whether he is stressed, depressed or feeling great, you are not leaving me alone in the same car with him. Especially my car! It’s bad enough Minnie can’t stand getting around in it.”

Bugs snickered before following the wealthy duck out of the building. “Deh Big Cheese’s too stubborn to upgrade from a 1960s car to a 2000s car,” he teased. “Walter must’ve passed his stubbornness down to you buckets full.”

“Don’t go there,” Mickey warned as he dashed out behind him. “Do not go there again, Bugs!”

“I was just sharin’ my two cents on creators again.” He waited for Mickey to catch up before exiting the café. He smiled at the mouse. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Bug off, Bucko,” Mickey laughed as he pushed the rabbit aside and walked by him.