Cats Don't Direct A "Cats Don't
Dance"/Rescue Rangers story By Indy and Chris Silva
Chapter 1 – The Big Picture and A Dire
Situation
L.B.
Mammoth, head of Mammoth Studios, held up the headline for everyone in the
boardroom to read. His face was beaming, and despite the spectacles over his
eyes it was obvious that he was a happy
camper. “This publicity
campaign’s already been a smashing success,” L.B. started in, interrupted by
the board members’ clapping. “We’ve had a great deal of interest from movie
houses across the country. Gentlemen, I feel that Danny’s movie is the answer
to the recent turndown we’ve had. If this film goes over big, we’ll push a
whole series of them!” More
clapping followed, then L.B.’s right-hand man and chief director Flanigan
spoke up. “Right you are, chief! This move stands to make L.B. Mammoth’s name
live forever in the shining memory of
Hollywood!” “Well said,
Flanigan,” L.B. replied, “and you’re going to
help.” “M…m…me, sir?” Flanigan
asked. “But I thought Danny was directing this
picture.” “He is, but he’s not
experienced yet. I want a veteran backing him as assistant director. Flanigan,
you’re the only man I trust for the
job.” Flanigan ducked his head a
little, and it was clear he was not thrilled about playing second banana.
“Well, okay sir. If it’s for the good of the studio.” L.B. stood up. “That’s
the answer I expected. Now, Danny informs me that the script should be back
from the editors either today or tomorrow. Once it’s finalized with the
printers, get with him and make sure everything goes
smoothly.” With a nod, Flanigan
left the room and L.B. asked the secretary to let Danny and Sawyer in. The
dancing cat nearly flew into the room, exuberant and full of pep. L.B. shook
the cat’s hand. “Danny, congratulations. You’ve made this studio one of the
brightest lights in this old town, and earned quite a name for
yourself.” “Gosh, thanks sir!”
Danny said, pumping his boss’ hand. “I can’t take all the credit, though. It
was a team effort—Sawyer, in particular helped convince me to take this step.
We’ll turn the movie industry on its ear again! Just
wait!” “I’m sure you will. Now
don’t forget, the printers need your completed script draft from the editors
by the end of the week. Don’t let any copies get out, or the spies at our
rival studios will either try to copy us or leak the storyline to the press.”
Danny snapped off a sharp salute. “Don’t worry, Mr. Mammoth, nothing’s gonna
stop us now!” Sawyer grabbed
Danny’s arm. “Come on, Mr. Unstoppable. We have a dinner date with the rest of
the old crew, remember?” Danny thanked every member of the board, then
returned to Sawyer, bubbling with confidence. “Yeah! A good meal will get the
ol’ creative juices
going.”
Danny
and Sawyer shook hands with L.B. at the door and headed out. They headed for
the Brown Derby, where a reunion of sorts was going on. Danny had called all
the animals they’d first worked with together, not only to talk over old times
but to talk about being in his latest film. Some of them, like Pudge and
Cranston, had been working some time at rival studios, but Danny had talked
L.B. into pulling a few strings. Others either already worked for Mammoth
Studios or had gone on to other jobs, but they had all eagerly gathered (well,
Cranston never was eager about anything) to hear Danny pitch his
ideas. They were seated in a
private room, and once Danny was sure it was secure he took center stage,
happy as a lark. “Friends, Romans, farm animals, lend me your ears! I’ve
written the greatest musical ever!” Danny jumped on top of the big round table
they were seated at, taking center stage as he took up the centerpiece off the
white linen tablecloth. “It’ll be the retelling of a classic! A story with
pathos, love, drama and
heart!” Cranston looked up at
him, sarcastic. “What’s it called, ‘Bippi Bippi Bop Bop’?” Tilly clouted him,
knocking his head through the table. “Oh, Cranston! I’m sure it’s gonna be a
real hit!” T.W. started quaking in his shell. “It doesn’t involve anything to
do with the number 13, does
it?” Danny grinned, like he was
sharing the best secret in the world. “I’m doing a remake of ‘A Streetcar
Named Desire’, but my new and improved version’s called ‘A Street Cat Named
Desiree’!” There was a good
two-second pause for sheer shock value, then Cranston’s mouth kicked back in
gear. “So in other words it’s a complete
rewrite.” “Wow!” Pudge said. “So
do we all get to be in it,
Danny?” “You bet! It’s set in a
college town down south, and it’s all about an optimistic freshman college
quarterback and a big city girl who loves to act, dance and sing, and it’s how
they both grow and learn from each
other.” “That sure doesn’t sound
like the original story,” Sawyer said. Danny had kept everything about the
film secret up to this point, even from her. “Do you think you can swing that
past the audience?” she asked. Danny waived off her concern. “If they’ve seen
the original, they’ll love our version, believe
me.” Cranston crossed his arms,
harrumphing. “If there’s an increase in seismic activity during filming, it’ll
be Tennessee Williams rolling in his grave…” Frances, sitting next to him,
nodded. “Tell me about it, darling. I used to date his editor. Almost became
my fourth husband.” Tilly, never to be overly worried about anything, was
overcome with excitement and jumped up and down, nearly knocking the giant
derby off the restaurant’s roof. “Ooo, goodygoodygoody! It sounds exciting!
When do we start filming?” “We
don’t have a lot of time,” Danny said, retaking his seat at the table. “The
script needs to be ready in a week and filming begins in two weeks.” Woolie
the Mammoth, who had remained quiet to this point sipping on his peanut tea,
spoke up. “It sounds ambitious, Danny. But never fear, we’re all with you.
After all, you proved to us all that your dream was genuine. We were just
fortunate to be along for the
ride.” Danny nodded and addressed
the whole table. “Okay, we all have a lot riding on this, though it may not
seem like it—the first animal-directed movie. It’ll be a victory for animals
everywhere!” Sawyer tapped Danny on the shoulder, breaking the exuberant cat
out of his train of thought. “And Danny’s hired me as his casting director as
well as his co-star. We’re going to try to make this film an homage to the
success of animal actors everywhere, so we’ll be trying to pull in several of
the classic animal actors for
cameos.” Sawyer checked her
jewel-encrusted watch. “Speaking of which, auditions are set to start this
afternoon. I’d better get down there and head off the
chaos.” “Okay, but one more thing
first,” Danny said, opening a bottle of champagne. They all filled their
glasses for a toast, and Danny gave it. “To dreams that came true, and to more
on the way!”
Champagne
glasses clinked all around, and the meeting broke up. Danny escorted Sawyer
outside, and just as she was about to step out from under the Derby’s awning,
a cloudburst hit. “Not now!” Sawyer said. “I spent half the morning at the
beauty parlor. No way am I going to spoil it
now.” A concierge brought an
umbrella, and Danny took it. “Don’t worry, Sawyer,” Danny said. “I’ll go get
your chauffeur’s attention!” Before Sawyer could protest, Danny had stepped
off the curb. He just stood there for a moment, then pulled his umbrella back,
letting the rain splash him. “Oh
no, not that again…” Sawyer mumbled, covering her face. Unlike Sawyer, Danny
loved to cavort in public. He started to strut to music only he could hear,
whipping his umbrella around. Then he started humming and singing from the
“Singing in the Rain” theme, lost in a world of his
own. “I’m dancin’…and
singin’…in… the raaaaain…” Danny sang, finishing up with a flourish. The
crowd on the sidewalk in front of the Derby clapped, but he noticed that
Sawyer wasn’t there anymore. “Hey, where’d she
go?” “She left a few minutes
ago,” Tilly said. “Something about ‘not having time for
this’.” “Oh, okay,” Danny said,
not fazed at all. “I’ll see you all at the
studio!” Cranston grumbled, a
raindrop popping him in the eye. “I’m probably going to regret this.”
Meanwhile, on the opposite
coast, a group of diminutive do-gooders was wrapping up a case. The Rescue
Rangers were widely known—not just in the animal community of New York, but to
animals around the world—as upholders of justice and honor. At the moment,
they were flying to their headquarters, the largest oak tree in Central
Park. Chip, leader of the
Rangers, tipped his fedora down over his chipmunk face and prepared for forty
winks in the RangerWing when a certain red-nosed comrade of his decided to
have some fun. Dale had just finished a soda and took a piece of ice from his
cup and slid it down the back of Chip’s bomber jacket. Chip leaped up with a
yelp and bonked Dale on the head. “Dale, what are you
doing?!” Dale laughed, ignoring
the bonk entirely. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying to keep
cool under pressure! I was just helping you out!” Monterey Jack, Monty to his
friends, could see the munks’ daily rough-and-tumble about to start. The big
mustached Aussie mouse liked a good fight, but only when he was in it. He
separated the two of them before they could pounce on each
other. “Here now, mates! Gadget’s
already told ya once, she don’t need the likes of you scrapping in the
RangerWing. Besides, ol’ Dale was just having a mite of sport, right mate?”
Monty asked. Dale leaned forward from his back seat position and gave Chip an
impish grin. “It was great sport for me!” Chip pushed him back where he
belonged. “Dale, stop fooling around! There’s work to be done. You never know
when something could come
up.” “Aw, you’re always saying
that!” Dale countered. “We weren’t causing any trouble, were we,
Gadget?”
At this, the
RangerWing’s pilot looked back toward Dale. Gadget Hackwrench was the Rangers’
inventor, mechanic and pilot, and as far as two chipmunks were concerned the
loveliest mouse ever to grace the planet. She, like most obsessed geniuses,
was totally oblivious to their attentions. “Hmm...oh, I suppose not. Golly,
who would’ve thought that Fat Cat would’ve stooped so low as to use itching
powder at a dog show and then try to steal the trophies? Of course, he
couldn’t have won them legitimately. I wonder why there aren’t cat
shows?” “There are, lass,” Monty
said, shuddering at the thought. “They just aren’t as popular—can’t
imagine why…” “If Fat
Cat’s any example, it’d be a total disaster,” Chip quipped. “Let’s get back to
headquarters. I want to make sure no one’s left us any messages about new
cases.” Monty rolled his eyes, the sarcasm rolling off his tongue. “Too right.
Be a bloomin’ shame to have only one case today and haveta spend
the rest of the time loungin’
around.” “You said it!” Chip
said, enthused by the thought. “Rescue Rangers,
away!” “Me an’ my big mouth,”
Monty mumbled, under his breath, as the RangerWing neared its home
base.
Later that afternoon, Danny met
up with Sawyer again, this time outside Studio 17 of Lot C, the building
reserved for the shooting of Danny’s film. Animal actors of every era and size
poured out of the building, from King Kong and Grape Ape to Atom Ant and Felix
the Cat. Sawyer for her part looked a little worse for wear, having been
through several hours of auditions. “You wouldn’t believe what some of
them are asking just for part-time work,” Sawyer started
in. Danny was as peppy up as
ever. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Sawyer. L.B. will handle the money details.
I can’t wait to start directing this masterpiece!” Sawyer got up in Danny’s
face. “Can’t you take this seriously? Danny, this is a big responsibility! You
can’t sing and dance your way through it. Directing’s a lot tougher than being
in front of the camera.” “Oh,
I’ve seen Flanigan do it hundreds of times, and all he does is tell everyone
where to be and when to hit their cues. Besides, if I mess up he’s still
assistant director on this flick. I’m sure he’ll help out if I miss
something.” “Well, just so that
you’re aware of how tough it is,” Sawyer said, dubious. “The hopes and dreams
of lots of animals are riding on the success of this movie and there are lots
of people who would love to see you fail—see all of us fail for that
matter.” Danny took Sawyer’s hand
and guided her over to a small al fresco table outside the nearby
commissary. “I know it’s risky, Sawyer, but it’s all been a risk so far. Who
would’ve thought that we’d be two of the biggest stars in Hollywood, huh? It
took every bit of faith I had to stick it out, and...” Danny took her hand
again. “…I think I also had to borrow some of someone
else’s.” Sawyer glanced away for
a moment. She’d been embarrassed at the Derby by his antics and meant to tell
him so, but now he’d taken her out of train of thought. Danny was by no means
a romancer, but he’d take her out on dates every week and when their schedules
weren’t running their lives they’d go for a day trip to Palm Springs or
Monterey. She looked back, locking onto his eyes, and let her initial
frustration go. “I wouldn’t have had any faith to give if you hadn’t given me
my own faith back first. This town can really take a lot out of you. You don’t
get very far alone here.” Danny
smiled back at her. “Don’t I know it. You’ve always been there for me, and I
just wanted to say, well, that it’s meant a lot to me. It still
does.” Sawyer looked into those
eyes that were beaming at her, and that special something came over her.
Slowly the world around them faded into the background, and Sawyer seemed to
hear music coming from somewhere as she started to lean forward. Danny leaned
in toward her as well, taking her in his arms, and their eyes started to
close. Just then, a shout from across the lot broke them out of their
nearly-special moment. It was Flanigan, and he appeared on the verge of panic
as he ran up to the seated
cats.
“Oh dear, what a
calamity!” Flanigan said, waving his arms in a frenzy. “What a disaster!”
Sawyer frowned, letting Danny go and turning to the frantic director.
“Flanigan! This better be really, really important!” Flanigan sat down between
them, catching his breath. “Oh, it’s the most horrible, the most unimaginable,
the most...” “WHAT IS IT!?” the
two cats demanded. Flanigan grabbed Danny by the collar, who in turn grabbed
Sawyer’s arm as he was pulled along. “Come along,
quickly!” The printer’s office
was halfway across the lot, but Flanigan was doing his Michael Johnson
impression, Danny and Sawyer flying behind in tow, and they were there in less
than a minute. Flanigan slammed the office door shut, then checked to make
sure no one was inside. Danny
gasped in surprise at the sight in front of him. “When, where, what, why,
how?” The office was in a shambles, papers strewn everywhere. Sawyer recovered
herself from the breakneck dash they’d done, and one look at the place was
enough to justify Flanigan’s ravings.“Why do we even pay security here,
if people can just waltz in like this? What did they
take?” Flanigan gulped and
pointed to Danny. Sawyer’s mouth dropped open. “You mean…his
script!” “I’m afraid so,”
Flanigan said. Sawyer’s pulse doubled as she looked to her friend. “Danny,
please tell me you had more than one
copy!” The orange tabby started
to perspire. “Well, I—” “Oh,
no...”
L.B.
walked in and quickly shut the door again. He was beside himself with worry,
wringing his hands. “Oh, if this gets out...or worse if the script gets
out! A leak now could cost us more than any profits we’d
make!” The studio owner tried to
steady himself, but the thought of ruin didn’t make things any easier. “With
all the hype we’ve already paid for, we simply have to recover that
script intact! Danny, I’m putting you in charge of it. You’ve got as
much invested in it as any of us. And remember, no police. No one here
can know about this, not even your old friends. We can’t have this getting out
to the press, or it could be the
end!” Sawyer, as always, was the
levelheaded one. “You’re leaving the recovery of a stolen script to an
actor/director? Okay, I can see your desire to avoid the press. They’d think
that this was just a publicity stunt. And we do need some help of the private
type. We need someone who can be discreet and doesn’t mind working for
animals.” Danny thought a moment,
then his countenance brightened. “You can count on me, sir! We’ll find out
who’s done this and make them wish they hadn’t! And I know just who to call on
for this, too. I just hope they’re
available.” “Whoever it is, I
want them on the case yesterday!” L.B. barked. “Get them here and save
my...the studio’s reputation!” Danny nodded resolutely and led Sawyer outside,
while Flanigan bit his nails and did his best to console his
boss. “You up for a quick trip to
the Big Apple?” Danny asked. Sawyer raised her eyebrows in surprise. “New
York? Why all that way?” “You’ll
see. We need an experienced investigative team with a proven track record.
Besides, New York’s been good to us. Remember our Broadway
reviews?” “You better believe it,
Danny,” Sawyer said, smirking. “I love that town. But who’s so important that
we have to go all that way?” Danny pulled out a cell phone and placed a
call, then returned his attention to Sawyer. “Let’s head for the airport.
We’ve got the Mammoth jet warming up in the bullpen as we
speak!”
In
a montage sequence, Danny and Sawyer quickly prepared, then rode to the
airport. The Mammoth Studios private Cessna C-10 was there, primed and
waiting. A valet rolled a red carpet down from the plane’s hatch over the
stairs in time to cover the bottom step before they could step on it. The cats
boarded, the hatch closed and within a minute they were in the air. Danny read
the latest movie society papers while Sawyer checked over their movie budget,
wincing a couple of times. When they landed at LaGuardia, a car was already
waiting to pick them up. The
Rangers had just finished dinner, and the sounds of Dale grumbling emanated
from the kitchen. It was his turn to do the dishes—they’d switched to hard
plastic quite a while back—and the fun-loving chipmunk grimaced, his arms
halfway in the sudsy dishwater. “Why can’t Gadget invent an automatic
dishwasher...” In the main room,
the Rangers were watching the evening news. Stan Blather, their favorite news
reporter, was doing a live shot. “...and the news on the war front continues
to be wait-and-see. In the world of entertainment, Mammoth Studios’ chairman
L.B. Mammoth today expressed great hopes for his company’s upcoming film, ‘A
Street Cat Named Desiree’.” L.B.
Mammoth’s visage appeared on-screen. “We expect ‘Street Cat’ to be one of this
studio’s greatest achievements.” The picture switched back to Stan. “Word has
it that Danny Cat is writing and directing this modern musical interpretation
of the Tennessee Williams classic. Studio security is extra-tight to prevent
any leaks, but we understand filming will begin in two
weeks.” Gadget turned to the
others, sitting on the semicircular sofa with her. “Golly, I bet filmmaking
must be exciting! Think of all the great inventions that have gone into just
making movies.” “Too right,”
Monty said. “Why, I remember seeing those old crank-reel cameras they used to
use. Me dad, Cheddarhead Charlie, got hold of one once. Filmed a year of his
life he did—won the documentary award at the Cannes Film Festival, too! Of
course, he traded it in for a one-way ticket to Timbuktu and their annual goat
cheese festival.” “Just image,
being able to be a movie star!” Dale said. “The fast cars, the fame, the
food!” Chip turned around as Dale came into the room, still wearing his
dishwashing gloves. “Take those things off, Dale! You’re making a mess out of
the floor. Did you clean all the dishes this
time?” Dale saluted, splashing
water on the sofa. “Chip, they’re so clean you could eat off of ‘em!” Chip
rolled his eyes—he was never one for patience where Dale was concerned.
“That’s the idea, silly. Now put those gloves back in the kitchen and get back
here! The movie’s about to
start.” Dale totally ignored
Chip’s order and jumped over the top of the sofa, landing right between him
and Gadget. “Oboyoboyoboy! Which one is it tonight?” Gadget was oblivious as
usual to the munk-fighting over who got to sit next to her. “Well, I thought
since all the movie talk’s about Danny at the moment, we’d watch one of his.
How about one of his hits from the 70’s, like ‘Squeaky Clean Dancing’ or
‘Sunday Morning
Bedrest’?” “Booooriiiing!” Dale
shouted. “Hasn’t he made any movies with car chases or explosions?” Gadget
crossed her arms, frustrated. “Jeepers Dale, is that all you like?
Danny’s always tried to push for nice movies with a positive and uplifting
message to them. Isn’t that more important than a few random explosions and
gratuitous onscreen
violence?” Dale thought on it.
“Uh…nope.” “Gotta go along with
you there, Dale,” Monty said. “A bloke needs a bit of a punch-up ta have some
fun every now and again. All that dancin’ and singin’, well, it’s all right
but it’s not Monterey Jack’s cup of
tea.” “Well, I think it’s good,”
Chip said. “After all, he’s brought some higher culture to the masses. And
that’s always worthwhile.” Monty shrugged. “If you say so, mate. Me, I prefer
a good dust-up or two. After all, when was the last time a dancer
scared anyone?” A knock came at
the door. Dale (who still had those gloves on) rushed to be first but due to
his slippery gloves he couldn’t get the door open. Monty got up to give him a
hand and opened it for him. Those at the couch could hear the gasp in Monty’s
voice.
“C..c..ca..ca...CAT!”
Chip
jumped up like lightning, the thought flashing through his mind that their
greatest enemy, the nefarious Fat Cat, had finally found them. The other
Rangers took cover as well, thinking the same thing. Monty for his part was
frozen in place, so it was a good thing that it wasn’t a criminal at the door.
Dale peeped around the paralyzed Aussie to see a smiling, well-dressed orange
tabby cat sitting cross-legged on the limb outside their
door. Danny took off his straw
hat, which he still liked to wear when he traveled. “Hi there! Is this the
home of the Rescue Rangers?” Dale looked at the smiling feline’s face and took
on a smile of his own. “Gosh, you look just like that cat from the movies! Uh
yes, we’re the Rescue Rangers! What can we rescue you
from?” The cat took on a hopeful
look. “Um, total financial
ruin?” Dale couldn’t remember
anyone having come to them for that reason, but then again there was always a
first time. “Okay, that sounds reasonable. Come insi...er, outside and we’ll
talk. Hey gang, look who’s here!” Dale walked outside, wishing he’d brought
his autograph book. The others got up from their hiding places and came to the
door. “Gee willikers! It’s
Danny!” Gadget said. Monty was
still frozen in place, but Zipper had flown to the kitchen and brought back a
thimbleful of water. Chip promptly doused him with it. “Pwah, wha...what
happened!” Monty shouted, starting to punch the air. “Where’s the
fight?” “No fight here, Monty,”
Chip said, then gestured outside. “Say hello to our new client, Danny!” Monty
looked, and the cat was still sitting there, smiling and waving his fingers at
him. He didn’t freeze up this time, but he was still dubious. “Uh, right.
Pleased to meet ya—I think.” The
Rangers and Danny climbed down the treehouse to the lawn below. Sawyer took
one look at the lot of them and wondered whatever had possessed Danny to think
these little animals were the answer to their troubles. Danny saw the look of
course, and knew it well. “Look Sawyer, I know they’re not that big, but
they’ve solved countless crimes like this! Our old friend Canina La Fur
recommended them to me especially. She said that Mortimer
here—” “Mont-er-ey…” the Aussie
growled—Canina had a penchant for mistaking his
name. “Er, Monterey helped her
out of a big jam,” Danny continued. Sawyer wasn’t convinced by any means. “But
that was years and years and years ago! I’ve heard of them too, but I
think they’re a little out of their
league.” Chip climbed up on top
of a nearby park bench, getting at eye level with Sawyer. “Hey, we may not be
big, but that’s never stopped us! We’ve beaten international spies, smuggling
rings, supervillians, evil twins, and corporate and animal pirates. If you’ve
got a problem, we’re willing to
help!” “I suppose it’s too late
to call some Pinkertons in on this...” Sawyer mused. “Okay, here’s the deal.
Someone stole the script to our upcoming movie and we have to get it back as
quickly as possible.” “Stole it?
Golly, that’s terrible!” Gadget said. “That’d be like someone stealing the
blueprints to one of my
inventions.” “True, but it’s
worse,” Danny said. “Unless we can get it back before filming begins, we’re
looking at a hundred million-dollar project down the tubes! Not to mention my
life savings.” Chip loved a big case, and this was about as big as they came.
“It looks like you’ve hired yourself some detectives. We’ll leave immediately
and find that script for you. Rescue Rangers,
away!” Dale ran in front of
Danny. “But first, could I have your autograph?” Danny grinned. “Sure, be glad
to!” Dale rushed back up inside the treehouse, and while they waited Danny
began to explain more about the robbery to Chip. They were interrupted by a
high-pitched squeal that came from across the park lawn. It was a red-haired
teenaged squirrel that was a friend to the Rangers, and had a huge crush on
Chip. In this case, Tammy wasn’t looking at Chip, but at the cat speaking with
him “DANNY!” Tammy zoomed across
the lawn in far less time than any of them thought possible. The girl just
stood there in her rolled-up jeans and pink shirt, the bottom of it not tucked
in as usual. Just like Monty, she was frozen, but it was from being totally
star-struck. Danny of course was used to this, and took it in
stride. “Hello there, little
lady,” Danny said. “Are you
okay?” “Uh-huh...” she
sighed. Danny stuck out his hand
to shake hers. “I’m Danny. What’s your
name?” “Uh-huh...” Chip
chuckled. “Her name’s Tammy, Danny.” Tammy took his hand, but still seemed
barely aware of her surroundings. Dale came back, and Danny signed his
autograph book. Then he asked Dale for a blank page and wrote one out for his
admirer. “Let’s see…’to Tammy...thanks for being such an adoring fan...Danny.’
There you go!” Tammy took the
autograph, her sparkling eyes still fixed on Danny. He waved goodbye to her,
and motioned Sawyer and the Rangers to the waiting car. As they left, Tammy
snapped back to reality. “It happened! IT REALLY HAPPENED! Oh, I’ll never wash
this hand again!
Nevernevernever!”
As
the giddy squirrel bounded off, Danny continued to explain the problems they
were facing. Chip went into detective mode, already letting his mind try to
sort things out. “So, who would be the most likely candidates to do something
like this? Who would profit most by the picture not showing?” Danny
shared a look with Sawyer. “Well, there’s always Darla of
course...” “Darla Dimple?” Dale
said. “I heard she was dead. Okay, anybody else?” Sawyer ran through the list
in her mind. “Any of the rival studios could be involved—MouseWorks,
Luniversal, Paramoot...not to mention the small-timers who’d like to see
Mammoth Studios in the tank. If any of them get their hands on that script,
the game’s up.” “And there’s
always the chance that either the media or an overzealous fan broke in
somehow,” Danny said. “Whatever the case, we’ve got to act
fast.” “We can’t just assume it’s
an enemy,” Chip said. “Even someone you think of as a friend could be behind
this. We’ll need to investigate anyone close to this project and look into
motive. You’re right, though, we’d better hurry. There’s not much time to
waste. As a precaution, Danny, I’d suggest you get to work on a new script. Do
it all from memory if you have
too.” Danny rubbed his temples,
trying to bring the world into focus. “You’re right of course. I’ll try, but I
really just typed the story as I went along in a stream of consciousness.
Whatever you need while you’re in Hollywood, just let me
know.” Dale assumed a “wise old
man” pose. “As Yoda says, ‘there is no
try’.” Monty, who didn’t dare
take his eyes off Sawyer or Danny, gulped at the thought he voiced. “The
sooner we’ve solved this case, the sooner we’re not working with
ca...cats!” Sawyer ignored the
Aussie’s trepidation. “And if we don’t solve this quick, there’s no more
Mammoth Studios. I’m going to go along with you on your investigation.” Chip
immediately took exception with that idea. “You? No, you’re not!” Sawyer got
right in his face. “And why not, pray
tell?” “Because you’d only slow
us down or blow our cover!” Chip countered. “Everyone in Hollywood knows you,
not to mention everywhere
else.” “I don’t care! I’m
not going to sit on the sidelines and watch while everything in life that’s
important to me hangs in the
balance.” “She does have a point
there, Chip,” Gadget said. “Besides, she could probably open some doors that
we couldn’t.” Dale nodded, pointing at Sawyer. “That’s obvious! She’s like,
three feet taller than us.” Chip
bonked Dale on the noggin. “She means Sawyer has influence, nuthead!
Which she does, but we can’t be seen with her or whoever’s involved will know
something’s up. All right, Sawyer, you can run interference for us. Use your
influence to gather attention wherever we go, and that’ll make it easier for
us to slip into areas
unnoticed.” “Some of us won’t
even need help,” Zipper
buzzed.
The car stopped at
the airport, and soon the Rangers were flying first-class to Hollywood. When
the plane landed, Dale ran down the red-carpeted steps, having put on dark
shades he got from somewhere. “Talent scouts, here I am! Dale Oakmont, fame
and fortune hunter!” Dale looked
for any sign of approval, but the tarmac was empty. “Aw, nuts! Guess we’ll
have to stick with detective work a while longer.” Sawyer took her time,
stopping when she got to Dale. “You remind me of me when I got to this town,
Dale. But it’s got a dark side you wouldn’t believe. Stay naïve, you’ll enjoy
your trip better that way.” “I’m
always naïve!” Dale said. “It makes the day go
faster!” They piled into the
waiting limo, and soon they were at the majestic Mammoth Studios. Dale was
running first to one side of the car, then the other, pointing at the
buildings and actors he’d seen in dozens upon dozens of movies. “Wow, and
there’s the old steam engine they used in ‘Death Train From Planet Z’, and the
old haunted house from ‘Flying Vampire Rutabagas’
and...” “Is he always like this?”
Danny interrupted. “No, it’s
usually worse,” Chip said. They
drove on through the various lots, reaching the printing office. Everything
was just as it had been when Danny left, and the Rangers went to work
immediately. After a series of tests, painstaking analyses and following up a
few theories, Chip reported to Danny, now at eye level with his client thanks
to the tall partition at the front of the office where printing requests were
received. “I’d say whoever did this was thorough, and did their best to make
it look like a random robbery,” Chip said. “So many papers were strewn around,
it gives it the feeling of a deliberate
cover-up.” Gadget emerged from a
cloud of dusting powder. “Jeepers, they didn’t leave fingerprints or
anything!” Chip returned his attention to Danny. “It almost had to be
an inside job, since the thief knew when the office would be empty. Who had
access to this place at the time of the
robbery?” “I think I can answer
that one.” L.B. strode in, with Flanigan at his side. “I spoke with the
printing office manager, and the list is a long one. Any of the studio
janitors could’ve gotten in—they all have keys. The senior staff has keys as
well, including myself, Danny, Sawyer,
Flanigan—” At that moment,
Flanigan tapped L.B.’s shoulder. “Actually, sir, I no longer have
mine.” “What’s this?” L.B. asked.
Flanigan ducked in embarrassment. “I sort of...lost my executive set. I had to
get them replaced, and I’m still waiting for the duplicates from
security.” “That’s two good
possibilities, then,” Chip said. “We’ll look into the janitorial and security
staff for any irregularities.” Sawyer broke in on him. “You’d better do it
after-hours, which incidentally is about to get underway. The studio closes in
just under an hour.”
Danny
headed for the door. “Say, why don’t I take all of you out for a nice dinner,
and then you can come back and get started? I’ve rented a nice suite at the
Hollywood Palace for you when you need to
rest.” The others appeared to be
about to accept Danny’s offer, but Chip spoke up first. “We really appreciate
the offer, but we’ve got to focus all our energy on the case. When we’ve
solved it, then we’ll be more than willing to take you up on that. Don’t
forget to get working on your script!” Dale rushed up to his leader. “But
Chip, I wanna pow-wow with the big-wigs! Schmooze with the movers and shakers!
Sell my life story!” “There’ll be
time enough for that later, Dale. If we get this case done in time, I’m sure
doors will open all over and even you’d be able to sell a story
here.” “Zowie, do you think so?”
Dale asked, getting excited. “Maybe we could sell a story about the Rangers,
and then we’d get our own movie or a series on DVD!” Chip sighed and shrugged,
looking apologetically at Danny and Sawyer. “Could you have something brought
in for us?” “No problem, Chip,”
Danny said. “Hollywood’s made for that. I’m going to see what I can recover of
my script from memory. Sawyer, are you staying here?” Sawyer headed for the
door with Danny. “I’ll let them handle it for tonight, but when they start
touring the studios in the morning I’ll help them out. I think you and I need
to talk some, anyway.” “My
thoughts exactly,” L.B. said. “Well Danny, it appears that you’ve got some
experienced detectives on the job. Keep me
updated.”
The famous cats
left the Rangers to do their work, and drove out of the studio. They had
houses right next to each other in Beverly Hills, and each one had come to
treat the other’s house as their own in matters of daily routine. Sawyer went
with Danny to his house, where he had set up his writing area in a private
drafting room. Danny did his
writing on an old Corona typewriter, in fact the same one that he had used
when he infiltrated Mammoth Studios and added the names of his friends to the
invitation list for Darla Dimple’s premiere. He’d considered it lucky, so he’d
stuck with it. Now, he sat down in front of the old keyboard, put a sheet of
paper in, and sat there. “Oh boy...maybe I should’ve upgraded to a computer,
like you asked me to.” “I could
have one here in less than an hour for you,” Sawyer
said. Danny eyed his old
typewriter like it was an old friend, as it truly was to him. “Uh, naw, better
not. This will do fine. Okay, page one, scene one...now how did the rest of
the 90 pages go?” Danny scratched his head, trying to put it all back into
words. “Let’s see...college...football...streetwise girl...college
quarterback...” “Danny, we need
to talk,” Sawyer said. Danny kept on banging the keys. “Uh, sure. What’s the
topic?” Sawyer sat down, trying to think of the best way to open the
conversation. “I’m not sure those Rangers are going to find anyone. Yes, I
know that they’re supposed to have a reputation as detectives and that you
like them. I’m starting to like them a little myself,
but…” “Say, could you give me a
hand?” Danny asked, pointing to one of the typewriter keys that had stuck.
“You know more about the ins-and-outs of these things than I do.” Sawyer got
between him and his Corona. “Danny, are you listening? You’re so wrapped up in
getting this script done that you don’t seem to be thinking
straight!” “What do you mean?”
Danny asked. “I’m just doing what I can to get things back in shape for
filming and all.” “I mean,
we should be looking for the crook, not a bunch of pint-sized sleuths!”
Sawyer said. “Or better yet, someone with the size and muscle to handle
whoever’s taken your script!” Danny knew it was more than that now. “What are
you so worked up about,
Starlight?” “I’m worked up
because you’ve put your entire self-worth on the line, and if this falls
through I’m afraid that you’ll—” she stopped, looking at him curiously. “What
did you call me?” Danny ducked
his head a little. “You remember—I started calling you that after I sang that
song, ‘You Are My Lucky Star’.” Sawyer looked down a moment, remembering. She
did recall it, and when she looked back she was smiling. “You haven’t called
me that in a long time.” Danny smiled back. “Well, when you started getting
upset, I remembered how you acted that way in the movie and it just clicked.
But you are my Starlight, though. It’s there, in your eyes, in the way you
move, the way you sing.” “Oh,
Danny,” she said, shaking her head. “What am I going to do with
you?” “Help me to make this next
dream come true, I guess,” Danny said. “Now, let’s see what’s
next.”
With Sawyer’s help,
Danny got his Corona going again and worked up a basic summary of his original
story, attempting to expand it from there. After an hour, he stood up,
exhausted. “Sawyer, it’s just no good!” the tabby cried. “I spent weeks coming
up with original ideas, the songs and even the choreography! I can’t
possibly recreate all that in time for filming! If the Rangers don’t
come through for us...if they don’t come through, we’ll be broke,
finished.” Sawyer knew that Danny
could get down on himself, especially when others were depending on him. “Hey!
Don’t lose hope, Danny. What happened to that swinging cat who could belt out
a song and dance number at any time or place? You’ve been so intent on this
project for so long, maybe you’ve lost sight of the old magic. You’ve got to
calm down, relax! Let your mind drift back to the good old days for once. Get
in touch with the old
Danny.” Deliberately, Sawyer
walked over to the record player. Danny couldn’t bring himself to upgrade from
his beloved 78’s to 33’s (he’d never dream of upgrading to CDs). She took out
a jazzy classic and put it on. “You always worked better with music
playing.” Danny was about to
protest when the beat of Benny Goodman’s “One O’Clock Jump” got to him. His
feet started tapping, his eyes closed, and a contented smile formed on his
face. As the volume rose, he leaped into the air and came down by Sawyer,
taking her hand. She smiled and let her dancing blood take over, and soon they
were nearly flying across the room. They cavorted like young kittens, moving
to the rhythm, and when it finished they were both on a higher
level. Danny immediately headed
back for the typewriter. “Okay, maybe I won’t get the whole story back, but I
can least get all of it I can. And maybe I can even write it better the second
time!”
Sawyer stayed with
Danny for a while to make sure he got off to a good start on his
script-writing, then retired to her own home. In terms of interior design, it
was the total opposite of Danny’s nostalgic tastes. Everything was white,
bright, spacious and modern. Sawyer liked things cozy and convenient when she
came home, and her butler, Stevens, a faithful old Himalayan cat, did his best
to assure that all was to her
tastes. Such was the case now and
after a few words of praise for her servant, Sawyer slipped into bed quietly.
Tomorrow was sure to be a long day.
Chapter 2 – A Change in Plans, a Change in Perspective, and Some
Loose Change
When
the dawn came, Sawyer found the Rangers assembled at the gate to Mammoth
studios. “So, who’s going to check out Mammoth’s rivals with me?” Both Chip
and Dale tried to side up with Gadget, but Chip ended up pushing the red-nosed
munk forward. “You go with Sawyer, Dale. You know the movie lingo better than
the rest of us put
together.” Dale wanted to stay,
but he had to admit what Chip said made sense. “But I...oh, all right. Guess
I’ll have to check out all the glitz and glamour for myself!” Monty stepped
forward. “What about me and Zipper,
Chip?” “You go and check out
Darla Dimple,” Chip said, checking off a list on a clipboard he was holding.
“See if she’s got anything to do with this.” Monty and Zipper saluted. “If
that lass is up ta something, we’ll find it out!” Monty
said. “And what’ll I do, Chip?”
Gadget asked. “I need you to help
me check over the rest of Mammoth Studios. I’d also like to interview the cast
and crew for Danny’s
picture.” Sawyer pointed behind
them. “You’ll find them on Lot C, Chip. Stage 17. They’re all down there this
morning, getting the scenery in shape and the cast is getting fitted for
costumes. Just remember, they don’t know anything about this, so don’t let it
slip.” Chip liked things well ordered, and so far things were to his liking.
“Good! We’ll meet back here tonight and compare
notes.”
The three groups went
their separate ways. Dale quickly forgot the wrangling over Gadget, because
there was so much else to catch his attention. Sawyer needed to check with
Danny first before heading for Luniversal, Mammoth’s chief competitor, so they
headed off for Beverly Hills. Dale was a ball of energy, looking left and
right at all the action movie sets on the Mammoth lot as they left the
studio. “I can’t believe
I’m finally in Hollywood!” Dale exclaimed. “The magic town! You’re so lucky;
you have all kinds of excitement and adventure. People look up to you and
you’re around all these famous people—well, you’re even famous. I wish
I was a star!” Sawyer pulled out
her appointment book, making some notes. “Dale, it’s not all peaches and
cream, you know. You have most of your life scripted, just like the roles we
play. The studio tells you where to go, what to do, what parties you have to
be at and who you have to be nice to. You end up having to share yourself with
a lot more people than you ever thought you would, and inevitably something
you didn’t want anyone knowing about will get leaked by a snoopy entertainment
reporter. But all that aside, it’s a pretty decent life as long as you don’t
let it all go to your
head.” “Heh, nothing goes to my
head!” Dale said, pointing at his noggin. “Well, except Chip’s fist when he’s
mad and all.” “Why does he do
that do you?” Sawyer asked. “Why do you let
him?” “Aw, it’s nothin’,” Dale
said. “Chip doesn’t really mean it. It’s just the way he’s always done. Chip
likes everything just-so, and I’m just-so out of
control!” “Yeah, I’ve noticed,”
Sawyer said. “Well, try to keep it under control for a bit,
okay?” Dale managed to rein in
his curiosity for a minute, but that was about as much willpower as the munk
had. “Well, I guess nothing really is like how it looks like on the outside.
Is being in the movies as exciting as watching ‘em?” Sawyer smiled, the topic
turning to a favorite subject. “Oh, a lot more. Don’t get me wrong,
it’s a lot of hard work. But when you’re in the spotlight and you feel that
freedom it’s unlike any other feeling. Especially when I sing or dance, it’s
there, because it’s a part of me reaching out to the
audience.” “I’m kinda surprised
the studio’s making a musical,” Dale said. “That stuff hasn’t been popular
since my folks were kids. Maybe if the musical had car chases and explosions
it might work.” Sawyer turned an
annoyed eye in Dale’s direction. “Excuse me? I beg to differ there. Musicals
are timeless, and if they weren’t popular then Broadway would just be an
ordinary street name!” Dale ducked his head, forgetting who he was talking
with. “Sorry, ma’am. I’m just not into that kinda stuff. It’s weird just
watching people pretend to suddenly burst into song. Things like that don’t
happen in real life, but explosions and all
do.” “Oh, singing does happen,
but only if you’re open to it and looking in the right places,” Sawyer said as
they approached their destination. “Okay Stevens, we’ll get out here.” When
Sawyer and Dale pulled up to the adjoining mansions that were Danny and
Sawyer’s homes, the munk’s sense of awe shot through the roof. “Wowie-zowie!
Real movie-star homes! Can I see your place too? Huh, can I?
CanIhuhcanI?” Sawyer spoke a few
quick words to Stevens, then started toward her house. “Come on, but we better
make it quick. I figure Danny’s hard at work, and he’ll want to know what
we’re planning to
do.”
Sawyer’s house was
immaculate and modern, inside and out. A two-story white Colonial style
edifice with green shutters, it spoke of both brightness and a conservative
liking for style. That style was accentuated on the porch, with a big
green-and-gold “welcome” bow on the front door, plus several beautiful
ornamental potted hibiscus and
geraniums. When they walked in,
Dale found his first impression of the house augmented. Where the exterior
said “welcome”, the interior said “hope you like it, because I do”. Twin
spiral staircases were accented by chrome banisters leading down to the
black-and-white checkered marble floor of the
entryway. As they walked toward
the stairs, a spacious doorway revealed a high-ceilinged living room to the
left. The floor here was covered by an off-white berber rug, with plush white
area rugs under the tables and in front of the large fireplace. The sofa was a
plush white as well, giving the whole area a feeling of openness. Modest
pictures of Sawyer, Danny, and Sawyer’s family and friends lined the walls. A
skylight in the ceiling let in warming sunshine to further give the room that
airy feeling. The duo continued
on, finding another door to the right. This was the way to Sawyer’s
professional-looking kitchen that could be shut off when company was over.
Felix her chef ruled this domain, and she let him have free rein to create all
of his culinary masterpieces. Behind the ornate stairs were two smaller rooms,
one to the left a trophy room that was more for guests to look at than
herself, and to the opposite side an entertainment room with a big-screen
television, surround speakers built into the walls, and an alcove in the wall
full of the latest electronic audio and video
gizmos. In short, Dale was
enraptured. “Wow! I could stay in here for months and never got bored! I don’t
suppose you’d like a houseguest—say for a year or two?” Sawyer chuckled.
“You’re pretty entertaining, but I think we’d be shouting at each other by day
three. We’d better be getting over to Danny’s house and see how he’s doing
with that script.”
Dale had
been impressed with Sawyer’s house, but Danny’s went beyond that for him. A
stately-looking ivy-covered brick manor-style building, the edifice gave the
impression of age just looking at it. “Danny had this building moved from
England and reassembled here,” Sawyer explained as they walked up the front
walkway. “It used to belong to some old toad or something like
that.” The front door was a huge
oaken thing, and when they knocked one of Danny’s servants—a lion named
Leo—bowed and showed them in. “Master Danny is in his writing study, Miss
Sawyer. If you and your companion would wait in the memento
room?” Sawyer and Dale headed to
the right on the wooden floor, bedecked with Oriental rugs, to a
similarly-floored room. The memento room was an homage to early Hollywood, and
particularly to the musicals and animals of the period. The natural wood walls
were littered with photo frames, with personalized autographs from such greats
as Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly and Rin Tin
Tin. Dale also noticed a picture
of the MGM lion, and looked back to Danny’s servant. “Say,
Leo…” “Yes?” the lion
responded. “Uh,
nevermind…” Several custom
display cases showed memorabilia from such movies as “Wizard of Oz”, “Singing
in the Rain”, and “An American In Paris”. One small item was displayed with
some extra ostentation—a glass case holding two bus tickets. Dale read the
inscription. “Hey wow! ‘The ticket on the left was the one I bought to come to
Hollywood. The second was the ticket I bought to go home, and it was on that
bus that inspiration finally hit me and I made my big break onto the Hollywood
scene.’ “ “He’s a fool for
sentimental things,” Sawyer said. “He saved everything he could from all our
movies and—” Leo returned, bowing. “Miss Sawyer, Master Danny did not respond
to my knocking.” Sawyer let out a slight chuckle. “If I know him, he’s
probably cat-napping. When we were on the movie sets, you could always find
him snoozing away between scenes in that monogrammed chair of his when it was
warm.” “I’m fond of chipmunk
napping myself,” Dale said. “Especially when the late, late, late show’s
over.” Sawyer and Dale followed Leo through the austere house to another room
with a large door. Sawyer knocked then opened it, finding the cat in question
using his typewriter for a pillow. “I thought
so.” Sawyer padded over, Dale in
tow. She pushed Danny a couple of times on the back of his shoulder, causing
him to blink and yawn. When he sat up, his audience chuckled at the sight—the
typewriter’s keys had left a pattern on his facial
fur. “Wakey, wakey, Prince
Charming,” Sawyer half-sung. “You’ve got visitors.” Dale jumped up and down,
doing his best to be noticed. “Wow, Sawyer’s been showing me all kinds of cool
Hollywood stuff!” Danny shook off his sleepiness, embarrassed. “Oh, hello
there! Sorry, must’ve dozed off. So, what’s the plan for
today?” “We’re headed to
Luniversal as soon as you’ve had time to stretch and wake up,” Sawyer said.
“You didn’t skip breakfast, did you?” Danny woofed down the half-eaten muffin
on the plate by his typewriter. “Of course not! But uh, maybe it would be good
to get up and stretch some. How’s about I show you my place,
Dale?” “That would be great!”
Dale said, then changed his voice to a Robin Leach tone. “Lifestyles of the
Rich and Furry!”
Danny
laughed while Sawyer shook her head, and the song and dance cat led the tour.
The old manor house had a sense of warmth in its interior, like its owner. To
the right of the writing study was an old library, imported with the original
house. Antique clocks and furniture accented the room’s feel, with a working
turn-of-the-century dial face phone as the final touch. Danny showed them
through his private theater, pictures of old movies and movie stars lining the
walls, and a vintage projector in the
rear. When they came to Danny’s
entertainment room, Dale was expecting something like Sawyer’s setup. Instead
they found an old Philco black-and-white television set from the fifties in
mint condition, with a mélange of unique-looking antique radios of all sorts
filling the room. Last on the tour was Danny’s dance rehearsal and exercise
room—a mirrored room with the usual wooden railings on the walls in front of
the mirrors for stretching and a well-worn wooden floor that spoke of the
hours of practice its master had put
in. “Well, I hope you like the
place, Dale!” Danny said, resting a hand on one of the railings. “This room’s
probably my favorite, because here I’ll work up new dance steps and
choreography. Musicals take a lot of work and preparation, but the payoff’s
great, don’t you think?” Dale
wanted to be nice, but also honest. “Well, Chip did force me to watch ‘My Fair
Lady’ once, it was okay. And then there was the time we all went to the opera
and had to listen to fat people hollering in Italian for a few hours and then
everyone died at the end. I dunno, Danny. I’m not much into musicals.” He
whiffed his fists through the air, boxing against a pretend foe. “If you beat
people up while singing and dancing, then I’d probably watch it
more!” Dale’s reaction caught
Danny off-guard. He was used to having people compliment him, but Dale was
pretty frank in his comment. “You…don’t like musicals? But you seem
like such a fun-loving guy! Surely you like to sing and dance, don’t
you?” “Song and dance isn’t
‘real’ enough anymore! People want the darker and edgier stuff. I like to see
good versus evil and the bad guy getting crushed by the hero! There aren’t
really any musicals or any kind of song and dance stuff you can do with that.
There’s no, well, no ‘Terminator, the
Musical’!”
Danny stared at
him for a few moments, and Sawyer was afraid that he’d want to terminate this
critical munk right then and there. However, that wasn’t what happened.
“Hmm... ‘Terminator, the Musical’...” Danny
mused. Sawyer saw the speculative
look in Danny’s eyes, and didn’t like it. “Uh oh—when he starts to ‘hmm’,
something’s about to come up...” Danny’s face changed in an instant then,
going from a look that was deep in thought to a ‘Eureka’ moment. “THAT’S IT!
That’s what was missing!” Danny
shook Dale’s hand vigorously. “Wow, I can’t thank you
enough!” “Huh? What?” Dale said,
totally clueless. “Uh, what did I do? Uh, I mean, I meant to do that! Sawyer,
what did I do?” Sawyer watched as Danny ran off, yelling at Leo to give him a
pencil and some paper. “You got me, Dale. When he’s like this, it’s best to
humor him.” Danny came back in a
couple of minutes, all charged up. “Wow, is this musical ever going to
have a great climax! The home team comes out on the field, led by their brave
quarterback, the game on the line. On the other size—Max the Marauder.
He’s determined to take our hero down, and it’s a battle of wills and strength
combined with upbeat musical flair that’ll have the audience begging for a
sequel! That reminds me, better find out where Max is these
days…” Dale watched the
hyperactive cat skipping around the room. “A musical sequel? I’ve never heard
of anything like that. And a football musical? Guys singing and
tackling each other?” “Well, not
at the same time of course,” Danny said, now writing again. “But it’ll combine
the sheer energy and pulse-pounding power of the sport with a great hero
rising above the odds to save the day! And of course, a strong and supportive
female lead to make sure he gets there, right
Sawyer?” Sawyer crossed her arms
and smiled in a “what else” expression. “How could he hope to triumph without
his girl Friday?” “Exactly! Dale,
that’s what the musical world’s all about—adapting while keeping that
fun-loving spirit to it. Say, why don’t you and I try something? I bet you’re
a natural when it comes to
fun.” Dale took a step backwards.
“Me, sing and dance? I’ve done a little, but mainly just the times on cases
where we had to whip up a routine on the spot with no preparations. But that’s
completely different.” Danny wasn’t fazed by his protests a bit. “Oh, not at
all! Sawyer, if you
would?”
Sawyer went over to
Danny’s antique record player and inspected a line of records he had on two
long shelves. Selecting one, she pulled out the old platter and set it on the
turntable. Giving the player a couple of turns on its crankshaft, she got it
going and put the needle in place. The music was Tommy Dorsey’s “Flying Home”,
a real hot jazz tune. Immediately, Danny’s feet were
tapping. “Okay Dale, just watch
me and follow my lead!” Danny
said. “But I don’t know how
to—” Danny started to sway with
the quick beat of the trombones and trumpets, smiling more all the time. Dale
watched him, and began to feel the bang of the drums reverberating through the
wooden floor and hitting his feet as the saxes joined in. Danny threw his arms
up in the air, and Dale matched him, both now synched to the beat. The pace
picked up, and the sway became a spin and step, with both of them spinning
around and putting a confident right foot forward, then spinning back to the
left. They snapped their fingers
to the rhythm, shifting just their feet now along with the beat. Then they
stretched their arms out and started pumping their fists in alternate rhythm.
Pointing to the floor, they accented it with a series of big, big jumping
stomps as the base drum did a
whompwhompwhompwhompwhompwhompwhomp...WHOMP! Cat
and munk were laughing now, cavorting and doing whatever came to them as the
music was at a fever pitch. It reached a crescendo of trumpets and trombones,
and Dale and Danny were running in place, side by side, then slid to the floor
on their knees, going down fast in a worship-like motion on the last beat of
the drum and cymbals. Sawyer
clapped approvingly, and the two glory hounds jumped up and bowed to their
audience. “See? What’d I tell you? Great fun, isn’t it?” Danny asked. Dale
caught his breath. “Yeah, it was! Wow, that was fun! But how do you get that
across to someone sitting in a movie theater? Dance is kind of
old-timey.” “Well, no one said
that it couldn’t be new again!” Danny said, all pumped up. “All it takes is
the right touch. You just wait—this musical, you’re going to like.”
Dale thought about it. “I guess you’re right. Disco’s coming back, and if
that can come back, anything
can.” Danny grinned—he could see
that this convert wasn’t going to be an easy one. “Thanks for the vote of
confidence, friend. Say, you two’d better get back over to Luniversal and the
other studios while you
can.” “How’s the new script
coming?” Sawyer asked. Danny settled down on the floor, cross-legged. “With
the help of our friend here, I think it just got the extra spark of
inspiration that’s going to make it a real winner! Of course, I’ll have to
make a couple of changes, but I think it’ll really pay off in the end! Leo,
you around?” Leo came quickly and
escorted Sawyer and Dale to the door. Danny followed in a few moments, but his
body language showed that he was eager to be writing now. “I’d better get back
to it while it’s all fresh in my mind. Thanks for visiting!”
Back at Mammoth, Chip and Gadget
had already conducted several interviews of staff that were involved in
Danny’s production and now they were headed for Lot C and the actual filming
site “Golly Chip,” Gadget said,
“I’ve often wondered what it would be like to visit a movie set! The amount of
technical knowledge required to make a movie is just amazing.” Chip reveled in
having this time alone with the mouse inventor. In a tight-knit group like the
Rescue Rangers, such moments were rare indeed. He grinned as she gawked at the
Hollywood technowizardry around them, chuckling inwardly at her “kid in a
candy store” reaction. “You bet
it is. And you’d make a great leading lady,
Gadget.” Gadget chuckled. “Oh,
that’s silly, Chip! Who would want to watch me? I think you’d make a good
leading man, though. With that hat and jacket, you remind me of someone, but I
just can’t put my finger on
it.” Chip was about to follow up
on that, but then he saw a sign for Danny’s movie outside one of the sound
stages they were approaching and remembered they had a job to do. He led the
way as the two Rangers entered Stage 17 and found a menagerie of crew, actors
and stagehands buzzing about the stage like bees in a
beehive. The banging of hammers
mixed with amplified voices of the sound crew doing mike checks, making it a
challenge to even concentrate at first. Gadget tugged on Chip’s jacket and
pointed to a trailer where a sign indicated costuming was going on. Chip
nodded and they went in to find a bunch of animals getting fitted for
traditional college wear and/or football
gear. A gruff-looking old goat in
a coach’s outfit eyed them menacingly. “What’re you two doing in here? There’s
no mice or chipmunks on the roster. Get lost!” Gadget held up her hands
apologetically. “Sorry, we’re trying to help here. Danny brought us in
to—” Chip covered her mouth.
“What she means is, Danny brought us in to make sure everything’s going
smoothly and that no one sneaks onto the set and tries anything.” He smiled,
then led Gadget over to a corner. “Remember, no one but the studio brass knows
the real reason why we’re here,” Chip whispered. “We have to keep this under
wraps.” Cranston marched over,
coming eye to eye with Chip—okay, Cranston was leaning over. “You! What
was he thinking?” Chip took it in stride. “He was thinking smart! We’re the
Rescue Rangers.” “Never heard of
you,” Cranston said dismissingly. “Why don’t you go rescue some rangers, and
butt out of our business?” Before Chip could retort, a big female hippo in an
oversize cheerleading outfit saved him the trouble. “Cranston!” Tillie said.
“That’s no way to treat someone trying to help
us!” “It is where I come from...”
Cranston grumbled. Tillie thumped
him, knocking him into the trailer wall, and creating a nice impression of his
head in it. She focused her attention on the two rodents at her feet. “Sorry
about that, but he is a cranky old goat after all. My name’s Tillie, that was
Cranston....” She took a deep breath.
“TheothersarePeebo,T.W.,Woolie,Frances,staff, dressingcrewandthat’saboutit!
Oh, what’s your names?”
Chip
was left in a tizzy, but Gadget was used to fast talkers having lived with
chipmunks so long, not to mention her own tendency to babble. “Hi, I’m Gadget
Hackwrench! We’ll do everything we can to keep anyone from messing with your
movie. It’s important to animals everywhere that this gets
made.” “And I’m Chip,” the
fedora-clad munk said, once his head stopped spinning. “Yeah, we’ll keep
anyone from messing with things.” A short little penguin—still twice the
Rangers’ size—waddled over in some football shoulder pads. They were far too
large for him, and the penguin had to just about stand on tiptoes to keep the
lower edges of them from dragging the floor. “Hi, I’m Peebo Pudgemeyer, but
call me Pudge. Do you think someone’s going to try to sabotage the
movie?” “Well, we hope not,” Chip
said. “We’re going over every possibility for security’s sake, though. We
solve crimes for a living.” Peebo was impressed. “You do? Wow! That sounds
neat.” A rather nervous—okay, a
very nervous turtle followed Pudge over to them, doffing his bowler hat. “I
hope nothing happens,” T.W. said. “Yesterday, I forgot to jump the 13th step
up to my home! Disaster could be around the
corner!” “Oh, that’s silly!”
Gadget said. “There’s no such thing as luck. Do any of you have any ideas on
how anyone might try to sabotage the film?” An old female fish slid a glance
over toward Cranston, who had managed to divest himself from the trailer wall.
“Knowing old Billy goat here, he could eat it like spaghetti,” Frances
said. “Fiddlesticks!” Cranston
retorted. “I’d keep an eye on some of the wage slaves around here. They’re
griping about their onionskin paychecks again! Kick ‘em all out, I
say!” “I hope there aren’t any
black cats around...” T.W. said, shaking at the
thought. Tillie shrugged. “Most
people in this town love Danny—well, as long as L.B. loves him, anyway.” Chip
nodded, continuing his questioning. “Has anyone been particularly against the
making of this picture?” “No, not
really,” Pudge said. “A musical is kinda unique and all these days, but
Danny came up with answers for everyone’s questions.” Tillie nodded, grinning.
“He silenced the critics all right! Convinced ‘em that we’re overdue for a
revival of the modern musical in the motion pictures. But uh...” Tillie leaned
down, whispering. “It’s been spread around that L.B.’s hedging his bet. He’s
supposed to have some kind of escape policy in case the movie
flops.” Chip filed that tidbit
away. “Probably he’ll let Danny take the fall if it doesn’t work
out.” Gadget meanwhile was
looking around at all the costumes. “I think it’s a good idea to make a
musical. It would be a nice change from all the violence and stuff that’s on
TV.” Cranston raised an annoyed eyebrow at Gadget’s comment, but she just
smiled sunnily at him. The goat shook his head and walked
off. Pudge edged up next to
Gadget, now free of his shoulder pads. “I think the movie’ll be good too. I’m
going to be the center on the football team!” Gadget tried to imagine the
little penguin holding back anyone. “Golly, is that safe?” Pudge grabbed a
drinking straw and bent it. “Oh sure. I may be little, but I’m strong!” Then
Pudge emphasized his statement further by picking up Chip with one flipper and
setting him back down. Gadget giggled at the penguin’s antics, and it was time
to continue their investigation.
As Dale and Sawyer left Danny’s
house and entered the limo, Dale looked up at his feline companion. “Uh, what
was that all about with Danny? I’ve never seen anyone who just goes off
dancing like that.” Sawyer grinned back. “It’d take too long to explain. Danny
has those bursts of inspiration like that sometime. Stevens, we’re going to
Luniversal now.” The Himalayan
nodded, tipping his chauffeur’s cap, and drove out of the driveway. Luniversal
was a splash of primary colors and eye-catching characters, which naturally
appealed to Dale. When they passed the Luniversal set for “T-Rex World”,
Sawyer asked Stevens to
stop. “Very good, Miss Sawyer,”
Stevens said, coming around and helping Sawyer out of the car. Immediately,
she was beset upon by several autograph hounds who were touring Luniversal.
She was glad to oblige, then she along with Dale headed for the “T-Rex”
set. “I’ve got a few old friends
over here I’m going to do some casual talking with,” Sawyer explained. “You go
ahead and watch the filming. Looks like they’re about to shoot a scene.” Dale
was already distracted by all the high-tech gadgetry the set provided. “Okay,
I’ll just stay here and keep out of the
way.” After she had walked away,
Dale watched the filming as best he could. From where he was he wasn’t able to
see much. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to get a little closer to the
action.” Dale began working his way deeper into the set, then stumbled over a
wire, causing it to come free from a metal cylinder that was part of a row of
about twenty. Dale gasped, not
sure what the canister would do. “Gosh, someone could get hurt with all this
stuff laying around! I’d better put this back in.” Dale quickly reconnected
the wire, but the moment he did, he was thrown to the ground by a deafening
explosion. The tubes each launched the special effect they had been placed
there for, fire and sparks shooting up from all over and soon every special
effect on the set was going off all at once. People and animals were
scrambling wildly in panic,
screaming.
After a few
moments, the red-nosed chipmunk dared to poke his proboscis out from hiding,
along with the rest of his face. “Uh, I hope Chip doesn’t find out about
this.” Dale ran for cover, hoping no one had seen him. No such luck—he ran
right into Sawyer, with the film’s director right next to her. “Dale!” Sawyer
shouted. “I leave you alone for five minutes and...how did you manage
all that?” Dale looked behind
him to see that the set was now in ruins. People were coming out from hiding
and a fire crew had just arrived. “Oh, I dunno. Just comes natural, I guess.”
Sawyer turned to the director, a sheep who was eyeing Dale. “I’m sorry, Mr.
Springberg. It won’t happen
again.” “Are you kidding?” the
director said, throwing up his hands. “That was great!” Both Dale and
Sawyer did a double-take and Springberg continued. “It was just the feel of
surprised terror that the scene needed! Of course, we’ll have to edit your
friend out of the final take, Sawyer. Dale, was it? How’d you like to be a
triceratops?” Dale’s eyes bulged
out in pleased surprise. “Can I Sawyer? Huh, can I, can I?” Sawyer grabbed
Dale’s arm. “Not today, Dale. You’ll have to handle that end in digital
postproduction, Mr.
Springberg.” “Okay, that’ll
work,” Springberg said. “Nice meeting you again, uh, Dake—too bad you’re not
bigger. I could use someone with that kind of talent for
destruction!”
Dale begged
once more, but Sawyer was adamant. As they headed for the car, Sawyer filled
him on what she’d learned. “I traded a little dirt with the director, and
found out that they’re curious about Danny’s film and how it’ll turn out but
nothing more. Oh, they did mention that the studio big-wigs were interested in
courting L.B. to come to Luniversal, but that’s pretty much industry
policy.” “I’m sorry I messed up,
Miss Sawyer,” Dale apologized. “I just have a habit of things like that
happening when I’m around. I’m just so excited to be here in town! That’s
probably why we’ve never come here before, because they knew I’d go
crazy...er…” “Oh, don’t worry
about it,” Sawyer said. “You’re just about the same way Danny was when he got
here from Kokomo.” Sawyer smiled, thinking back on that time as they got in
the limo again then exited shortly once they reached an empty sound
stage. Sawyer showed her
diminutive friend around. “This Luniversal stage was where I first tried to
get into Hollywood. Ended up being a stage hand, but it was better than
nothing. But getting back to what I said about Danny, he was so fired up, so
determined to succeed. I didn’t think he had a chance at first—I’d seen so
many animals have their dreams squashed, including mine. But Danny wouldn’t
give up, and ultimately he resurrected all our dreams! Now, he’s putting it
all on the line again, and unless we come through it could all be
over...” Sawyer got a far-away
look in her eyes, and in her mind she could hear some soft jazz playing in the
background, slowly. She began to sing, that silky-smooth voice she was so
admired for filling the huge
room:
It’s alllll or
nothing One shots are…all
he knows His dreams, they
grow and grow Big as
liiiiiife
All
the years All the
tears And now, it’s
all on the
line
Win
or lose I’ll be
there ‘Cause his
dreams are
mine...
We’ve
got to give it our
all This time, it’s alllll
or
nothing... And-nothing-less-than-all…will
doooooo....
Sawyer
continued to stare off into the distance a few moments more, than looked down
at Dale, smiling wistfully. Dale stared back, amazed. “Zowie, people really do
burst into song!” Sawyer nodded, then finished her
reprise.
It’s allllll or
nothing, And it’s got to
be
all ....now...toooooooooo…
From
behind, a crowd that had gathered burst into applause, breaking both cat and
chipmunk out of the melodic moment. They nodded and waved in kind, then headed
back for the car to continue their search at Paramoot and MouseWorks.
Leaving the trailer, Chip and
Gadget talked to the stage and technical crews on Stage 17, the latter taking
up most of the day as Gadget talked on with them in a running conversation of
technobabble. When they left the stage, she was positively giddy. “Gosh! I
think if I weren’t a Rescue Ranger, I’d love to be a Hollywood movie
technician. Just think—with a mix of pyrotechnics, digital overlays, proper
costuming and set design you could literally do anything! I wonder if their
director’s chairs have built-in ejection
seats...” Chip was only
half-listening as his pretty counterpart spluttered on about the electronic
and mechanical marvels she’d seen. What Tillie had told them about L.B. stuck
in his mind. Of course it could be rumor, but what if it wasn’t? It warranted
a closer look at the files and at L.B.’s financial transactions. It could be
tricky, but if he was the one behind all this it was imperative to know it now
rather than later. He just had to
find…then another thought suddenly thrust itself into his mind and he stopped.
Gadget realized after a few moments Chip wasn’t keeping up and looked back.
“What is it, Chip?” The chipmunk detective was staring off into space,
thinking. “Nothing…nothing really. I just had a thought.”
At the same time Chip and Gadget
had first entered the costume trailer, Monty and Zipper had tracked down the
home of Darla Dimple, former child star. They found she wasn’t home, but her
butler gave them two tickets to the afternoon taping of the talk show she now
hosted. For several years, Darla had been blacklisted in Hollywood, so she’d
turned to the lecture circuit and finally television. Now, “Darla!” was a
nationally-syndicated program that catered to the low-brow crowd and the
problems that many of Hollywood’s more famous citizens
faced. Monty and Zipper found
they had front-row seats, and when the saw the set’s décor they wished they
hadn’t—it was all pink with a mockup of Darla’s dimpled face smiling on the
rear wall of the set and “Darla!” written beneath that in fancy cursive. The
interviewer’s desk and the chairs included impressionistic mock-ups of Darla’s
curly hairdo on top. Monty was about to get up and wait until after the show
was over when Darla came out and the applause signs went
up. The crowd was raucous and
rowdy—just the way Monty liked it—and that helped the Aussie to change his
mind. “Thank you, thank you!” Darla said, blowing kisses. “You’re all too
much. On today’s show, we’re going to talk about phobias, and my guest star
today is a guy that can attest to it. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s have a big
Darla welcome to Professor Norton
Nimnul!” The crowd alternately
booed or whistled, according to cues. Monty and Zipper were shocked that their
old mad scientist enemy was here, and it was certain not to be long before the
unbalanced professor reciprocated that sentiment. Darla showed the short
balding bespectacled scientist, wearing his white lab coat, to the guest
chair. She walked up a small pink spiral staircase that led to her big comfy
host’s chair behind the spacious pink
desk. Darla put her pudgy elbows
on the desk, taking on a look of mock sympathy. “Now Professor, you tell Darla
alllll about what happened to you...” Nimnul leaped out of his seat and
began gesturing wildly around the set. “It’s all about a bunch of insidious
rodents named the Rescue Rangers! They interfere with my work all the time!
How can I get any devastation done if they’re always breaking my brilliant
inventions! I even got my head switched onto the body of that icky fly of
theirs once! Stupid rodents, I hate them
all!” “Oh, you do?” Darla
asked, taking on an innocent tone. “Well then, I don’t think you’re really
going to like the next guest we
have.” “And who would that be, as
if I cared?” Nimnul asked. Darla grinned mischievously and pressed a button on
her desk, causing a hole to open in the floor. Out of that hole, using the old
Bugs Bunny elevator trick, came Slappy Squirrel. A caption on the bottom of
the screen showed “Slappy Squirrel:
Rodent”.
“Hey, what gives!”
Nimnul said, then gasped. “A big disgusting
rodent!” “Eh, stuff a sock in it,
Einstein,” Slappy said, stopping to cough a bit. “I’m getting triple scale for
puttin’ up with you for five minutes, though if I can find some dynamite we
might be down to three.” Slappy walked over to the irate professor. “You know,
you remind me of a young…actually, I can’t think of anyone you remind me of.
What loony bin did you escape from,
anyway?” “I am not a
loony!” Nimnul shouted, accenting this point by jumping up and down a lot.
“I’m simply here to voice the opinion of all mad scientists everywhere about
no-good rats and bugs interfering with their legitimate evil
schemes!” “I’ll say you’re
buggy,” Slappy said. Monty became
indignant at being called a rat and leaped to his feet, rolling up his sleeves
and running out on stage. “The Rangers ain’t rats! We’re mice and chipmunks!”
Zipper was right there too, of course. “And don’t forget the
fly!” Nimnul froze in shock when
he saw Monty and worse...Zipper. “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! THE
VERMIN!”
Nimnul began running
around like a chicken with its head cut off, much to the pleasure of Darla and
the producers. The audience was beside itself with laughter. Slappy waited for
the right moment, then brought out a huge mallet and conked the hysterical
human on the noggin. “Now that’s comedy!” she said, taking a bow to the
applauding audience. Monty took
advantage of the moment to confront Darla, jumping up on her desk. “Hey, you!
I hear you ain’t got any love for Danny, after what the bloke did to ya. Bet
you’re egging to get back at him, ain’t ya?” Darla had been enjoying the
professor’s antics, but now the Aussie mouse had hit her sore spot. She began
having a conniption right then and there. “HE RUINED MY LIFE! Of course I want
back at him, and someday I’ll figure out a way to get him back, too!”
Darla sneered as the guards
hauled Nimnul off, then returned her attention to Monty. “Are you DONE
now?” “Only gotta point out that
you did the ruining, lass. If you’d played it straight, you wouldn’t be
here on this fourth-rate show. Lots of things are better in life than fame and
fortune, ya know.” Darla took on
a smug look. “Oh? Name one!” At
that moment, somewhere off-stage, some poor soul made the mistake of getting a
tray of snacks ready. What was on that tray caused Monty’s moustache to
tingle. “I’ll gave ya one!
Chee-yee-eee-eee-eezzzeeeee!” Monty
was caught in a cheese attack, and ran right though Darla’s interview desk,
causing it to collapse—not to mention Darla. “YAAAAH! Where’s Max when I need
him!” Slappy had long since decided to stand aside and watch the mayhem. “You
know, this reminds me of my first day on set with Weed Memlo. Of course, it
was the last day, too.”
The
audience was whooping it up over all this action, and the stagehands were
trying their best to stop Monty. If they’d known him, they would’ve known
better. The motivated mouse headed straight for the cheese tray, gobbling up
its delicacies in seconds. The attack ended, and Monty relaxed.
“Aaaaah...nothing like a bunch of sharp cheddar ta mark a grand
adventure...” Zipper hovered over
him, shaking his head. “Monty, I can see why we leave the detective work to
Chip.” Zipper flew over, landing by Monty. He couldn’t talk well, but his
disapproving look spoke volumes. Monty ducked his head. “Aw, now don’t be that
way, Zip ol’ pal! Besides, we got what we came after. If the lass had the
goods, she’d be trying ta cover things up, but instead she blurts out on
national TV that she wants back at him. Unless she’s just a Grade-A fool, she
didn’t do it.” “Well, I suppose
that makes sense. Okay, what’s the next step?” Zipper didn’t have long to wait
for that one. Darla emerged from the rubble of her desk, beyond irate. “I HATE
ANIMALS! Get them out. OUT! OUT!” Monty looked around for the exit. “That lass
has got some loose change upstairs, mate! I think that’s our cue to go
walkabout!” “Or runabout...”
Zipper said. The two Rangers made flank speed for the exit, Darla ranting and
raving in the middle of her trashed stage.
Chapter 3 – A Dream of a
Story
Across town,
the atmosphere was a lot more peaceful. Possibly too peaceful, as Danny was
beginning to tire once again. He’d been working on his new script all day,
without taking a break. In the middle of the first act, the cat stopped,
trying to talk himself through what he’d previously written while adding in
new material. Danny sat up in his
swivel chair and picked up the small pile of typed pages sitting next to him,
looking them over while leaning back in his chair. “Okay, so far so good. Act
1, Scene 1, the train pulls up to the train station and a beautiful woman
steps off the train. She’s got all her worldly goods in the suitcase she’s
carrying. Her mind is filled with dreams of the future as she enters this new
town, a stranger in a strange
land...” Danny looked over the
words, trying to remember if he’d included all the good ideas he’d come up
with. As he read, he found it increasingly harder to concentrate. His reading
slowed more and more until it was just a mumble, and then his eyes closed. In
a few moments, he opened them again to find himself looking up into a blue
autumn sky. Then he looked down to find he was dressed in a football
uniform. “Hey what gives?” Danny
said. A clock tower in the
distance struck two, taking his attention off of himself, and he realized he
was on a small college campus. Animals of all kinds, dressed like students out
of the fifties, were walking, talking and cavorting all around him. Danny was
right in the middle of campus, next to an old railroad station. As he watched,
he heard the whistle of a train coming in the
distance. Danny headed for the
station, grinning. This was the opening scene of his movie. The train drew
near, slowing as it approached the old brick station in the small southern
college town of Tuberville. The train’s brakes set in and, with a loud hiss,
the train came to a halt. This was the freshman train that brought new
students to begin their postsecondary
careers. Among them was a white
female cat named Desiree Summers who had come down south from Chicago. She was
a Chi-Town native who had enjoyed the life of a street cat, growing up amid
the iron and steel monoliths. Now she wanted to try her wings, and she’d
decided to see what another part of the world was
like.
Desiree stopped at the
top step of the train—she was dressed conservatively, wearing a white blouse
under her dark blue sweater that had the orange Tubervillle Tech “T” stitched
on the right front along with a cream-colored skirt. “Boy, this is sure a cow
college...” A cow next to her on the train steps, dressed in a similar college
sweater to hers, tapped her on the shoulder. “You got a problem with
that?” “Oh no, just an
observation.” Desiree looked
around. To the horizon in every direction there were fields as far as the eye
could see. This was farm country, and small Tuberville Tech only took up about
half of the area she could take in. The big brick buildings and landscaping
were nice, though, with the blooming magnolia trees and beds of marigold and
lilies. It was all foreign to her, and she didn’t know what to do next. She
saw a uniformed porter and hailed him as she walked off the train onto the
station’s wooden platform. “Hello! Can I get some help with my
baggage?” The porter started to
walk over, stopping halfway and pointing at her. “Wow, look who’s here!”
Desiree smiled. “Well, that’s nice of you to—” The porter zoomed right by her,
going up the train steps and pulling out a red carpet, which he rolled down
the steps and onto the platform. “It’s the pride of Heartland
High!” Everyone within shouting
distance immediately ran for the train station. An old goat, dressed in a
coach’s uniform, took center stage on a makeshift podium. The crowd cheered
wildly. “Settle down, or you’ll all run ten laps around the school!” All was
quiet and the coach continued, Desiree watching all this to the left and
behind the big crowd. “I have the pleasure to introduce to you our new
freshman quarterback sensation and number one signee, Stan
Kowalski!” Cheerleaders lined the
exit from the train, shaking their pom-poms. “Stan! Stan!
Stan!” Stan appeared, in the
Tuberville Tech uniform. The band ran up and played, “Hail to the Chief” as
the student body kow-towed to him. Stan smiled, flashbulbs popped everywhere,
and he came down the steps and up the podium to the mike. “ Now, now, hold
your applause! I’m just glad to be here, and help ol’ Coach Vince to win ‘em
all!”
The crowd went wild,
and porters ran up from everywhere to take all of Stan’s luggage. Desiree
crossed her arms, disgusted with the whole thing. She sighed, then tried to
decide what to do next. Meanwhile, one of the cheerleaders, a cute
blonde-haired bunny named Blanche, sauntered up to
Stan. “Hi there, big boy,”
Blanche said, confident. “I’m Blanche Dubois, head cheerleader. Guess what?
You get to escort me to the pep rally for the new team’s arrival!” Blanche
made the biggest show of taking Stan’s arm, but Stan’s attention was already
elsewhere. “Sure, Blanche.
Anytime.” And with that, Stan walked off, catching up with Desiree. “Hi there!
New student?” Desiree looked at
him, unimpressed. “Who are you and why are you so nosey, bub?” Everyone around
Desiree stopped and looked at her, to see if she was serious. One of the
cheerleaders, a large hippo named Gertie, walked over. “Why, don’t you know?
He’s Stan Kowalski, the new quarterback for the Tuberville Tech Tigers! He
only threw for five thousand yards and fifty touchdowns last
year!” “Uh, actually it was
fifty-two…” Stan corrected. Several girls in cheerleading outfits
gathered around the new quarterback. “Stan! Stan! He’s our man! If he can’t do
it, no one can! Yaaaaaay!” Danny...er Stan smirked at Desiree. “That answer
your question?” Desiree shrugged. “So, looks like there’s not much to do
around here. What do you guys do for
fun?” Stan grinned from ear to
ear. “It’s funny you should ask…” From somewhere some peppy marching band
music started up.
You
don’t have to look real
hard To find out what we
like! Just listen close
and give a toast While I
stand up to the mike!
The
marching band appeared, and the students gathered around, cheering, as Stan
grabbed the mike from the
podium.
It’s foot-ball,
that game we love to
play! The cheering fans,
the daring plans, A
touchdown on the
way!
It’s
foot-ball, the rivalries are
best! A stadium all full
of folks Who come from
east and
west!
It’s
foot-ball, it’s
foot-ball! That…game…that
we looooove!
Stan led the
way through campus, picking up his feet, the band marching right behind.
Desiree kept up as best as she could, then she stopped when she saw the huge
brick and concrete football stadium. It was by far the largest thing on
campus, and everyone was heading into it. Desiree walked in, where Stan was
running a few plays with the team. Players were bashing each other and the
crowd was eating it up. Then Stan came over to the sidelines and led a huge
student pep rally. He saw Desiree and pulled her over, continuing his
reverie.
When we play a
home game It’s excitement
all the way! Ev-’ry-one
will stand and
scream Until the fin-al
play!
A
win will mean a happy
year A loss would be a
crime! It’s foot-ball, the
best
sport Of…allllllllllllll…tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime!
The
band wrapped it up, and the pep rally ended. Stan walked Desiree out to the
middle of the field, showing her the great expanse that was Tuberville Tech
Stadium. “So, what do you think? Pretty neat,
huh?” Desiree looked at it all.
“I hate sports.” The buzz of
activity stopped, and the students who were filing out halted and stared. Stan
for his part was shocked, his mouth open. “You...you hate sports?”
Desiree gestured at the field around them. “Sports is just a bunch of big
sweaty guys hurting each other. If you people put half the effort into
classwork that you put into sports, imagine what you could
accomplish!” “Bu..bu..but,
but...” The coach, an old goat by
the name of Pat Vince, marched out on the field. “Get off my field! Go on,
before you ruin the turf!” The two of them walked off, and Stan caught
Desiree’s hand. “Um, y’know, I’d really like to see you again. How about
coming to the big game on Saturday? Everyone’s going to be
there...” “Almost
everyone, hon,” Desiree said, taking her hand back. “They’re going to have
tryouts at the theater department on Saturday for ‘My Fair Lady’.” Now it was
Stan’s turn to look displeased. “Acting? Singing and dancing? That’s
sissy stuff!” Desiree stopped and faced him. “I bet you’ve never been to a
show, have you?” “Nope, and I
don’t plan to,” Stan said. “You don’t see anyone getting sacked on stage, you
know. Pulse-pounding action’s what’s popular now! Give me a good post pattern
for a wide-open touchdown and we’re talking excitement.” Desiree shook her
head. “If you tried it, you’d like it. Now, could someone please show me where
the admissions office is?” Stan sighed, pulling out a campus map someone had
given him. “It’s straight across campus. C’mon, I’ll walk
you.”
Meanwhile, in the
background, Blanche had been lurking and working up to a slow boil. From
behind, one of the big football players tapped her on the shoulder. It was
Bruiser McGee, a wolf who was one of the Tuberville Tech linebackers.
“Popularity problems, Blanche?” Bruiser asked, his deep grating voice
reverberating. “Who does that
kitty think she is!” Blanche said, her eyes pure poison. “No one upstages
Blanche DuBois! And that quarterback! How dare he embarrass me in
public!” Bruiser grinned with a touch of mischief. “So you want back at the
big guy, huh? Well, it just so happens I’ve been given a lucrative offer to
gain a few semolians, and I think we can both be
happy.” “How’s that?” Blanche
asked. “Well, the Pine City and
Pricetown teams need to win when they come here, and let’s say they’ll think
highly of anyone who lends them a helping
hand.” Blanche thought about it.
“So we tip them off, and let them run that little disrespectful quarterback
over?” Bruiser nodded, chuckling. “You got it, sweets. They’ll mow him under
like a tractor hitting the weeds.” Blanche broke out in an evil grin. “And
I’ll come up with something to get the better of that feline floozy!” The two
of them laughed, rubbing their hands with
glee.
For the next few weeks,
Desiree got used to her surroundings. She landed the role of Eliza Doolittle
and played to mostly-empty seats at the theater. Meanwhile, the football
stadium was jam-packed every weekend, and Stan led the team to win after win.
The college town was small and friendly, though, and soon Desiree had made a
lot of new friends. She was just coming out of world geography class when she
noticed Stan coming out too and decided to see what he was up
to. “So Stan, what else besides
football is there to do in this town? Shuck corn, spin cotton, churn butter?”
Desiree quipped. Stan spun a football on his index finger. “Most of us just
hang around at the E-Z-Scoop and eat ice cream while discussing the next big
game.” Stan noticed the big
notebook under her arm. “Hey, what’s that
for?” “It’s for
schoolwork,” Desiree said. “You should try it sometime. Seriously, I’m
majoring in theater with a minor in economics. What are you here for,
as if I couldn’t guess.” Stan
waived off her concern. “Oh, you don’t need to go to all that trouble!
Spending all that time grinding away at books? Besides, it’s all common
knowledge. Once you know that America broke away from France to become a
country and Tokyo’s the capital of China, you got it
made!” “On second thought, you’d
better stick with football. Is there a movie theater in this one horse
town?” Her comment evoked an
indignant snort from a horse standing behind her. “Sorry,” Desiree
said. “Sure is!” Stan said. “The
Tiger Cinema’s open every night. Would you, uh, like to step out with me
tonight?” Desiree knew she’d probably regret it. “Will you stop annoying me
with silly questions if I
agree?” “Uh, okay! So will
you?” “Sure,” Desiree said,
looking heavenward. “It’ll be the only taste of civilization I’ll have for the
next few years. I’ll warn you not to try and get fresh with me, though. I
carry a set of brass knuckles in my purse.” Stan smiled, impressed. “Wow,
really? I never knew a girl who owned brass knuckles before. Say, you’re
pretty cool. Well, gotta go! See you after football
practice!”
Desiree shook her
head, watching Stan romp his way across campus. When seven rolled around, she
was in front of the theater and he wasn’t. Desiree waited ten more minutes,
then was about to leave for the library when Stan came running up to her, out
of breath. He was on the mild side of desperate. “Look uh…sorry I’m late. It’s
just that…coach held me…over for a talk
after...practice.” Stan looked
embarrassed, and Desiree could sense something was up. “What happened? Did he
think your uniform was too cute?” Stan didn’t catch her sarcasm but he did
catch his breath. “No, he said I had to pass all my classes or I’d be
kicked off the team! Can you believe that? I didn’t know they could do that to
you!” “I’m sure that the idea of
football quarterbacks being held to the same educational standards as the rest
of us must come as a shock. What class are you
failing?” Stan tugged at his
collar. “Um, all of
them?” “All of them! How
could you have let that happen...no, don’t bother answering,” Desiree said,
holding up her hands. “I already know the answer. How much time do you have to
turn your grades around?” “I have
the pass the midterm exams on Friday, or I’m busted! Do you know anything
about Geometry, History, English Lit, and World Geography?” Desiree looked at
that cute desperate face and sighed. “Well, two hours won’t make or break the
situation. You promised me a movie, and tomorrow I can start doing some
emergency tutoring, but no football till exam time. You’ll need to focus on
your schoolwork.” Stan blinked,
reality hitting him like a blindside from a crazed linebacker. “No FOOTBALL?
I’ll die from
withdrawals!” “You’ll die if you
get kicked off the team, but the choice is yours,
Stan.” Stan’s shoulders slumped.
“Oh, okay...”
Desiree enjoyed
the movie, but Stan hardly noticed it. He was trying to fight off sheer panic,
and the next day wasn’t much better. Desiree found that Stan knew little or
nothing about studying, but fortunately she was taking the same classes he was
and let him borrow her notes. She dragged him to the study hall, and there she
worked with him hour after hour, helping him to learn all the things he’d
ignored in his sheer enjoyment of the
game. “Stan, you’ve got to pay
attention or you’ve never going to make it!” Desiree said. Stan stared at the
stack of papers in front of him. “But how can I remember it all? It’s
just a jumble of things…” Desiree thought a moment, then came up with an idea.
“Okay, there’s more than one way to remember things. For instance…” Desiree
thought a moment, then sang to the tune of “Pop Goes the
Weasel”:
A circle’s round,
it never ends, The way
around’s the
cir-cum-f’rence A radius
is half-way and then All’s
the di-am-et-er!
“Hey,
neat!” Stan said. Desiree pointed to another paper, singing to the tune of
“Yankee Doodle”:
The
Pilgrims came to Ply-mouth
Rock, The state of
Mass-a-chu-setts The
Con-stit-tu-tion set up laws
with Twenty-seven
amend-ments
“Wow, that’s
great!” Stan said. “Do another one!” Desiree did, to the “Anvil
Chorus”:
Chau-cer
in the days of old wrote tales both sad and
mer-ry, Told by pil-grims
on a trip to go to
Can-ter-bu-ry
“Hey,
you’re great!” Stan said. “Got another one for geography?” Yakko Warner ran
up. “I do! United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama…” Desiree pushed Yakko out
the door, then took up the melody of “Under the
Boardwalk”:
Pacific
Ocean’s got the biggest space of all the
fi-iiiive The Indian’s got
the Cape to Tasmania
spied Under the world lies
the Southern’s reeeeach,
yeah! On the top with the
Arctic’s where I’ll
be…
When Friday came,
Desiree was a little shell-shocked from all the time she’d spent helping Stan
review, but it also meant that she easily passed her exams. She was anxious
about her pupil, though. She’d been waiting for him outside the geography
class while he and the football coach waited for the teacher to grade the last
of Stan’s tests. When Stan came out, he was beaming and ran up to
Desiree. “Hey, I passed
everything!” Stan shouted, picking her up and spinning her around. “Now I get
to play tomorrow! Thanks, Des, I owe you.” Desiree grinned. “Yes, you sure do.
And it so happens I need a favor.” Stan stopped, not sure what was
coming next. “Yeah?” “We’re about
to start casting for ‘Guys and Dolls’ and we need somebody to play Nathan
Detroit, the lead,” Desiree said. Stan blinked, not sure he’d heard her right.
“Uh, you…want me to…act?” Desiree smiled wickedly, nodding. “Tryouts
are next Monday, hon. I’ll expect to see you
there.” Desiree started walking
off, when Stan ran up beside her, holding out a ticket. “Won’t you at least
come to the game this week? I’ve…we’ve won every game so far and we’re
playing the Pine City Bulldogs. Here’s a free ticket, best seats in the house!
Please?” Desiree was about to remind him of his promise to stop annoying her,
but bit her tongue. “Uh, thanks Stan. I might go, to see if my hard work was
worth it.” Stan pumped her arm up and down in a vigorous handshake. “Hey,
that’s swell! See you after the game for the big victory celebration,
okay?” “Sure, I guess.
Whatever.”
Stan walked off,
happy as a lark. Desiree watched him go, then looked at the ticket in her
hand. Should she? After all, this fellow was just an egotistical sports boy
and they had nothing in common. When the time came, though, she found herself
headed for the stadium. It was a rowdy, noisy place with more people at one
event than she had ever seen. When she found her seat, she sat down next to a
loudmouth human, and commented on the rowdy state of
affairs. “Yeah, great atmosphere,
ain’t it?” the burly human said. The big fellow stood up and turned around,
yelling toward the concession stands. “HEY, WIL-MA! DON’T FORGET THE
NACHOS!” Desiree rolled her eyes
and sat down. After a lot of bands playing and cheerleaders jumping around,
the game started. She saw Stan on the field, but had no idea of what was going
on. However, she did notice the cheerleaders, and Blanche in particular. She
was waving at the opposite sidelines repeatedly for some reason, and every
time she did the Tuberville team lost yards. She winced one time when a bunch
of linebackers led by Magilla Gorilla came up the middle and crunched Stan to
the ground. The game didn’t go well for the home team, and Tuberville Tech
lost to Pine City 21-7. Desiree watched as a dejected bunch of players left
the field, Stan leading the
way. Behind the stands, Blanche
and Bruiser were laughing. “That was great!” Blanche said. “This’ll teach him
who’s the best.” Bruiser nodded. “You got that right, Blanche. But the best
lesson’ll come next week. Nothing like getting humbled by your biggest rival.”
The devious duo walked away, counting their payoff, while Desiree waited
outside the locker room for Stan to come
out.
Desiree knew Stan would
need a talking-to, so she waited until he’d changed his clothes and left the
locker room. He had a nice shiner on his right eye and a bag of ice wrapped on
his shoulder. Stan was surprised to see her and he blushed in embarrassment
and shame when he remembered his promise to take her to the victory
celebration. “Oh, hi Des. Guess I can’t take you to the celebration after all.
I’m sorry I let you down. Our first
loss!” Desiree managed to hide
her relief at not having to go, not wanting to upset Stan any further. “Don’t
worry about it, there’ll be other games. You win some, you lose some. How
about I take you to the feeling-sorry-for-yourself celebration at that Scoops
place you mentioned?” Stan shook
his head, holding it down. “No, I couldn’t go there. I let everyone
down, not just you! Don’t you understand, Des? A loss around here is like,
well it’s like losing your best friend and your girl all in one day! Right
now, I feel flatter than a five-cent sandwich.” Stan walked over to a nearby
bench and plopped down, covering his face with his
hands. “What in the world are you
talking about?” Desiree asked. “It’s just a game! The winning or
losing of that game won’t affect the balance of power in the free world, won’t
lower crime, won’t regrow lost hair! It’s just a silly game! It’ll wear your
body out before its time and when that happens your mind won’t be in much
better shape, since you neglected it in order to play football. Just get up
and try again!” Stan looked up,
glumly. “You’re embarrassed to be seen with me, too, huh? I don’t blame you.
All I’ve ever dreamed of was playing football and winning a big game! Maybe I
should just quit.” “Stop feeling
sorry for yourself!” Desiree said. “And the only thing that’s embarrassing is
how you’re acting over losing a single game. It’s not even the World Series,
for heaven’s sake!” Desiree came over and sat next to him. She hesitated at
first, but it was obvious this boy wasn’t perking up. She leaned over and
kissed him on the cheek. “Now, are you going to walk me
home?”
Stan hadn’t seen the
kiss coming, and when it registered with him he realized that things were
different. The sting of the loss wasn’t as bad now, and some of what she was
saying made some sense. “Yeah, sure Des. We are still 10-1, after all. I guess
I’ll just have to prove my worth next time. We play our big rivals next, the
Pricetown Pachyderms. If I can win that game, then they’ll totally forget
about this one!” Stan walked
Desiree home, all the time babbling on about football. She was glad he wasn’t
depressed anymore, but he sure could talk a person’s ear off. Stan took her
hand at her door. “Thanks, Des. It means a lot to me, all you’ve done. You’re
the only person that’s ever done things like this for me, and I just wanted
you to know
that...well...”
Soft music
came from somewhere:
All
my life’s been one big
game. Some days I’ve
won, Some I’ve
lost, But some things stay
the
same
I
had fans by the
carload Girls who called
my name, But when they’re
gone I know You won’t care
about my
fame
I
know it may sound
lame, But you made my
day My week, my
year And now I won’t
fear...
Stan took her
other hand.
As long as
you’re near. Des, you’re
quite a dame...
Desiree
shook her head, chuckling. “You’d better believe it, big shot. Feeling better
now?” The two of them came closer, their eyes locked, and Desiree interjected,
“By the way, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you at tryouts on
Monday.” Stan took a step back. “You mean you were serious about
that?” “You bet I was,” Desiree
said. “We need a strong guy for the lead, and you’ll bring a lot of popularity
to the role too. Please, Stan?” Stan hunched over some and rubbed the back of
his neck, not really wanting to say yes, but Desiree had him on the spot.
“Well, all right. But if anyone I know sees me, I’m going to feel
stupid!” “No, you won’t. Besides,
I’m the female lead, Miss Sarah Brown. Isn’t that worth risking a
little embarrassment?” Stan
gulped. “Uh, I guess so…” Desiree
kissed him ever so lightly on the lips. “Good. See you Monday.” Stan watched
her go as she waved goodbye and then…he heard someone else calling. The images
were swept away, and Danny woke up. “Wow, what a dream!” Danny said,
immediately starting to type again. “And now I know just how to lead into the
big game!”
Chapter 4 – Mission Improbable and Missing in
Action
As Danny got
to work again, the setting sun was gleaming on the stone mammoth that marked
Mammoth Studios. Cars spilled out of the place, and the night watchmen came on
duty. Inside the main offices, it was already getting dark. Chip had to use
the portable LED penlight that Gadget had made to help him read the files they
were perusing. The comment that Tillie had made before about L.B. was nagging
him, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. Now, they were going through the
company’s financial
files. “According to their
records, Mammoth’s stock has declined in value twenty percent over the past
six months,” Chip said. “I hope Danny’s picture works out or they’re going to
be in real trouble. Wait...” Chip checked a list of financial statements,
noticing a glaring
omission. “Gadget, L.B.’s
statement isn’t on here! He must’ve kept it private. When we were in his
office before, I noticed his personal safe by the wall. That’s got to
be where his financial records would be. Only one problem—we can’t be spotted.
There’s one of those revolving security cameras near his office. Can you get
us around it?” Gadget shrugged.
“Sure I can, Chip, but isn’t that kinda
illegal?” “Well, technically. But
a good detective knows when to bend the law in a good cause. And if L.B. is
the one behind Danny’s missing script, we might just find it
there!” Gadget started heading
for the hall. “Okay, let me at that safe and I should be able to open it with
no problems.” Chip started for the file room’s exit, then stopped. Whenever
Gadget used the words “should” and “no problems” in the same sentence, it
usually meant disaster. Still, that was normally in terms of her inventions,
so Chip shook off the notion and walked
on.
The mouse inventor
stopped them when they were just out of range of the camera’s line of sight,
clocking its motion from left to right. Once she was assured they could make
it, they waited for the camera to return and as it headed to the right they
followed, careful not to go too
fast. Chip threw his rope up
toward the keyhole, a safety pin on the end catching the hole’s lower edge.
Gadget climbed up and was able to simply reach inside the old-fashioned
keyhole and trip the lock. She pulled the door’s catch back from the inside,
eliminating the need for the doorknob, while Chip pushed as hard as he could.
The door came open and quickly they moved inside, shutting the door behind
them before the camera could reveal their
handiwork. As Gadget had figured
(and to Chip’s relief) the safe was no huge obstacle. Soon, they had the
cabinet-size safe open and Chip was rifling through the papers. After a few
minutes, he found what he was after. “Yes, here it is! Apparently, L.B. sold
off about half of his stock in the company at the start of this month. So, he
must’ve thought the company was in trouble—foolish to keep a record of it,
though. And here’s another page attached...ah, he’s also planning on cutting
the promotional budget for Danny’s film down to next to nothing! Do you know
what that means,
Gadget?” “Honestly, no,” Gadget
said. “Without the money for
adequate promotion, Danny’s film would likely flounder at the box office!”
Chip said, then pointed to the painting of L.B. on the wall. “Gadget, L.B.’s
the one behind Danny’s problems! He must be selling off his stock behind the
company’s back so he can leave with his pockets full of money! We’ve got to
make a copy of this paper.” “It’s
not going to be easy,” Gadget said. “The copier’s in the outer
office.” Chip rolled the two
sheets of paper up into a cylinder. “I know, but if we don’t have hard
evidence, L.B. could find out someone’s been snooping and simply burn this
thing. You have been mentally keeping up with the camera’s motions,
right?” “Uh huh,” Gadget said.
“Otherwise, we’d have no way to know when it was safe to leave.” Chip took the
papers, unrolled them, and placed them on the floor by the door so it would
swing over the papers when it opened. Gadget performed her handiwork on the
door’s lock again, opening it at the critical moment. Chip dug his claws into
the bottom of the door, pulling as hard as he could. He just managed to get it
open enough, then he and Gadget moved to the other side and snatched the
papers as they pulled the door closed
again.
Running up the hall to
evade the camera, they passed by the file room and another security camera to
end up in the main office. There, they had friends waiting for them. Sawyer
looked at the papers in their hands. “Well, I see you two have been busy.
What’s that you’ve got
there?” “The answer to the whole
mystery of Danny’s missing script,” Chip said. “Looks like L.B.’s the one
behind all this. Take a look.” Sawyer read the document and her face took on
an angry appearance. “That weasel! And I don’t mean that as a compliment! Wait
till I get my claws on him!” Dale
scratched his head. “I thought L.B. was supposed to be a good
guy.” “Supposed to is
right!” Chip said. “What did you two find out at Luniversal?” Dale shrugged.
“Just a rumor that L.B. was thinking of jumping ship to their studio.” Chip
snapped his fingers. “Of course! It all fits together. L.B. plans to go to
Luniversal, so what’s more natural than that he should try to torpedo Danny’s
movie? And he’s probably going to get a big signing bonus from them for doing
it, too.” “Waitaminit, Chip!”
Dale said. “Take a look at this!” Dale held up the photocopy that they’d made
of the top page, and it showed writing beneath the printed material. Chip
checked and found a thin piece of paper that had been stuck between the two
sheets they had taken, and had been clinging to the top
page. “Hmm…well, it appears I was
wrong. It’s written with a felt-tip pen so we can’t analyze the handwriting.
Listen: ‘To the Rescue Rangers: You are on the wrong track, and I put you
there. If you want to see Danny’s script again, come to the warehouse at Santa
Monica Boulevard and 2nd Street. I’ll be waiting.’ It’s signed,
‘The Phantom
Moviemaker’.” “That’s down by the
ocean front,” Sawyer said. “Near Santa Monica
Place.” “Smells of a trap for
sure, mate,” Monty said. “Do we take the
bait?” “Yes, but this could be a
diversion by this person to pull us off the scent and try something here,”
Chip replied. “Gadget, take Sawyer and the others to check this out. I’m going
to call Danny and get him over here to make sure that no one tries
anything.” At that moment, Zipper
flew in and joined the others. “Where you been, pally?” Monty asked. “You’ve
been gone half the day. Out sightseeing?” Zipper shook his head and indicated
that he’d been keeping watch over Danny’s house from the air in case anyone
tried anything. Chip nodded. “I sent him there, just in
case.” “Are you sure you can
handle this alone?” Sawyer asked. Chip thought about that. “You’re right, I
could use some help. Zipper, you’re with me. You can keep watch over the
studio this time and give me early warning if anything happens. We’ll be
careful, and if the situation gets bad we can always call on security. Whoever
wrote this note will be watching us, so we need to have it seem that we’ve
swallowed the bait.” “Then we’d
better do one thing more,” Sawyer said, taking Chip’s
hat. “Hey!” Chip said. “Careful
with that!” Sawyer grinned.
“Don’t worry, we’ll bring it back safe. We’ll set up a dummy in your
RangerWing to make it look like you’re along.” Gadget took the fedora from
Sawyer. “That’s a great idea! I’ll gather some material and make one right
away!” “Make sure to find
something with a lot of hot air in it!” Dale shouted, then ducked as Chip
tried to bonk him again. Soon the Rangers’ plan was underway and Chip watched
them go with satisfaction. He missed his beloved hat, but it was a small
sacrifice to be sure the plan unfolded seamlessly. He gave some instructions
to Zipper and the fly nodded, buzzing his way outside. Climbing a telephone
wire in the main office where they’d copied L.B.’s papers, Chip tapped out a
series of numbers and waited.
At Danny’s house, Leo knocked on
his employer’s door. “Pardon me, Master Danny. One of your Ranger friends,
Chip, is on the line.” Danny was in the zone now, and hated being interrupted.
Still, if it was Chip, it had to be important. “Okay, tell him I’ll be right
there. I’ll take it in the
library.” Danny finished up the
thought he was on, then quickly walked to the library and picked up the old
antique receiver. “Chip? What’s this all
about?” “I need you to come down
to the studio right away, and you’ll probably want to bring your work with
you. We may be here for a while.”
While Chip and Zipper defended
the studio, Stevens was driving Sawyer while she kept an eye on the
RangerWing. For Sawyer, this new revelation had been a relief. L.B. had done
so much for them, and it would’ve been such a betrayal if he had really been
behind Danny’s problems. But still, maybe he was. After all, he could’ve
written the mysterious note and now they could all be about to face his
ire. Sawyer shook her head—that
just wasn’t possible. No, it was likely what it appeared to be, the maniacal
ravings of someone who had gained access to the company and had tried to
discredit her friends while shifting suspicion. Whoever it is, they’re
going to wish they hadn’t played this insipid little game, Sawyer thought,
as she watched the RangerWing land on top of an old warehouse half a block
ahead of them. It had taken them about twenty-five minutes to cover the
distance, but Sawyer wished they hadn’t had to come so far. Her thoughts were
still chiefly back at the
studio. Signaling Stevens to stop
well away from the warehouse, she got out, leaving him instructions to follow
if she wasn’t back in half an hour. Quickly, the feline stole through the
shadows, trying two doors to the warehouse before finding one that opened.
This warehouse hadn’t been used in years, and the dust covering the floor and
paraphernalia strewn about attested to it. Sawyer moved as quietly as she
could, realizing that the slightest sound would echo horribly in this
place. As she rounded a bunch of
old packing crates, she stopped short. A shadow on the wall revealed what
appeared to be a large human. And he was holding a pistol.
Chapter 5 – The Dream Continues and A Rude
Awakening
Danny had
ordered Leo to stand by at the phone, then he picked up his typewriter. He’d
forgotten how heavy it was, and lost his balance, knocking a stack of papers
off his desk onto the floor. Danny packed his typewriter, notes, and new
script into a nearby wooden crate and hefted the combination to his spacious
garage. He’d put the contents
into his white 1937 Auburn, a classic antique car which he favored driving,
but then realized that if there was a criminal who might try something he
could be tipped off by seeing that car so he took his red 1957 Cadillac
instead. Taking the back way into the studio, Danny parked his car well away
from any place he normally frequented and walked toward Stage 17. Fate was in
his favor, and Danny ended up in the wardrobe trailer without anyone seeing
him. “Chip?” Danny hissed. “You
here?” “Right behind
you.” Danny jumped, and Chip
shushed him. “It’s okay,” Chip said, keeping his voice low. “We’re alone,
though I don’t expect things to stay that way. I know who our criminal is and
what he’s up to. I figured you’d like to be here when he
comes.” “But how do you know?”
Danny asked. “That’ll have to
wait,” Chip said. “For now, go ahead and work on your script. I’ll keep
watch.”
With a few minutes of
setup, Danny set to work again. It didn’t take long for him to get back into
the swing of things. The peace and quiet of the trailer was just the thing he
needed, and now things were going smoothly. On occasion Danny would look up at
the sets and let his imagination take
over. After about a half-hour,
he’d finished another large scene. Danny looked ahead through the louvered
windows at the huge stage in front of him and the setting sun that was just
visible through a crack where the big barn doors met to the left. Chip was
dutifully keeping watch, and Danny leaned back in his chair and in a few
moments the only sound was the cat’s snoring.
About that time across town,
Sawyer was ready to make her move. The big shadow hadn’t moved for all of five
minutes, and she was beginning to wonder where the Rangers were. Getting up
from her crouch, she slowly moved toward a point where she could at least see
who she was dealing with. Taking several precautions, she crawled her way on
the floor around another packing crate—and screamed right at the moment the
mouse she was facing screamed as
well. “ARGH!” Sawyer shouted, for
she’d come nose to nose with
Monty. “Don’t EVER do that!” the
two of them shouted at the same time. Then they both got down again, as well
as the other Rangers. When they saw that the shadow didn’t move, they
continued on together to where they could see the source of the
problem. “A cardboard cutout!”
Gadget exclaimed. And so it was—it was actually a quite small cutout, placed
in front of an old burning oil lamp. “From the look of the wick and the odor
of kerosene, this lamp’s been burning for quite a while. Perhaps a day or
more.” “Looks like our bird’s
flown the coop,” Sawyer said, picking up a piece of paper on a nearby table,
the writing on it done using a felt tip pen as before. “Get this: ‘Dear
Rangers, I have burned the script so don’t bother looking for it. I want it
made clear why I committed the crime. The practices of men like L.B. Mammoth,
making actors the directors of their own films, is ruining the corporate
health of Hollywood for the sake of profit. I leave you now to go to a better
country where the men in charge have more respect for the employees under
them. The Phantom Moviemaker.’
“ “Oh great, a wild goose chase,”
Monty said. “First, the bloke steals the script then burns it and heads for
the hills when we get too close. Makes you wonder why he did it in the first
place.” Sawyer turned off the
lamp. “Well, whatever the reason, it’s time for us to
go.” “Miss Sawyer?” It was
Stevens, come to check on them. “Are you
okay?” “We’re fine, Stevens,”
Sawyer said. “We’ll head back to the studio now and see how Danny and Chip are
doing.” The group came outside, and Sawyer was about to get into the limo when
Stevens gave out a shout of surprise. “Look, Miss Sawyer! Someone has let the
air out of one of the rear
tires!” “Peachy,” Sawyer said.
“Must’ve been some kids with nothing better to do. There was a service station
not too far back. Think you can jack up the car and get that tire
off?” “At once, Miss Sawyer,”
Stevens said, rolling up his sleeves. The Rangers decided to stay with Sawyer
to make sure she’d be safe while Stevens reinflated the tire, and soon they
watched the dutiful manservant roll the loose wheel down the street.
Stan Kowalski—for Danny was
dreaming again—was surrounded by laughter. It wasn’t the good kind of laughter
as far as he was concerned, either. Stan had taken up Desiree’s challenge to
try out for “Guys and Dolls” and to his utter surprise he’d won the lead. The
source of the laughter wasn’t that, though. The theater team had been in
rehearsals now for a couple of days, and word had slipped out that the
football team’s quarterback was actually acting in a
musical. The rehearsal was about
halfway done when a bunch of big guys and a crusty old coach came in, followed
by several of the more popular people on campus. Stan was crouched down on
stage, dressed up as Nathan Detroit, and about to throw a pair of dice when he
heard someone from the audience say, “Heavens to Mergatroid! The rumors are
true. Verified, even!” Stan
looked up to see all his teammates out there, jeering and making faces.
Blanche was there too, of course. “Hey Stan,” she began, “this the best
time-waster you could find? You could always have volunteered to be the team’s
equipment boy.” The director, a crusty old British badger wearing spectacles,
came over to the group. “Do you people have a reason for being here?” The
coach grunted in humor, about the most amiable he got. “Sure do. That’s my
starting quarterback up there making a fool out of
himself.” “Sir, no one was ever
made foolish practicing the fine art of the legitimate stage,” the director
said. “In fact, I see several young men here who could likely benefit from a
little drama and dance practice.” The laughter returned, and Bruiser stood up.
“Yeah? Well, I’ll make a deal with you, tea and crumpets. If this namby-pamby
stuff does our prima donna quarterback any good on the football field, we’ll
all come and act and dance and sing in your pretty little plays for the
next whole year. Right guys?” The
players grinned and nodded and the director raised an eyebrow. “It is a deal,
my friend. Now, if you please, we are in rehearsals.” Sawyer watched the team
file out, still laughing, then turned to Stan. “Don’t let it bother you,”
Desiree said. “You’re doing great, and I bet none of those guys would have the
courage to get in front of an
audience.” Stan knelt down and
threw the dice—snake eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not worth all this.”
Desiree patted him on the back. “It’s worth it to me.” Stan looked up, and
Desiree was holding her hands in front of her, smiling. Stan returned the
smile. “Thanks, Des. I’ve got to admit, it’s been pretty
fun.” “For me too,” Desiree said
softly. “Now, you’d better get to football
practice.” Stan had a thought.
“Say, why don’t you come out for the cheerleading squad? I know they’d take
you.” Desiree looked like Stan had asked her to stand on her head.
“Cheerleading?” “Sure!” Stan
said, smiling. “After all, you’d be cheering for
me.” Desiree grimaced
some, but she nodded. “Okay. For you. Now you’d better hurry. Those Pricetown
Pachyderms are waiting for you this weekend.”
Danny smiled in his sleep, and
then something shook him out of it. “Come on,” Chip said, “wake up!” Yawning,
Danny rubbed his eyes. “Something
up?” “Ssh!” Chip warned. “Not so
loud. Our mystery man just came on the
lot.” Chip turned to Zipper, who
had alerted him and was standing at the ready. “Get up in the rafters. If he
escapes us, it’ll be up to you to see where he
goes.” “Yes, sir!” Zipper
saluted, then flew as quickly as he could to the top of the huge stage. Danny
looked at his watch—eight o’clock. It was just over an hour since he’d come to
the trailer, according to the clock on the wall. Chip doused the lights and
silently they waited in
darkness. Their vigil was not a
long one, for in a few minutes Danny’s feline eyes caught a change in things.
Something had moved out there inside the stage, and certainly it was alive.
Only the night watchman had any business in this area, and he’d be outside,
not inside this studio. The half-visible figure kept coming through the
shadows and it became evident to Danny this person was carrying something
heavy, for it caused the intruder to stumble a few times over the weight
imbalance. Silently, Danny and
Chip crept out of the trailer and decided on a plan of action. The dark figure
was headed for the main set, and Danny moved toward the light switch controls.
Chip meanwhile positioned himself where he could try to thwart the
ne’er-do-well. The person stopped, setting down his load, and seemed to be
trying to decide what to do next. Danny wasn’t going to give whoever it was
time to think further. He flipped on the main light switches, bathing the
encroacher in the bright
floodlights.
It was a hooded
figure, but nonetheless the lights had caught him off guard. Danny stepped out
into the open. “You there! Hold it!” The hooded rogue dropped the object he’d
been carrying—a can of gasoline—and started to run. Then he tripped and fell,
and the hood fell back on the fellow’s head. Danny was floored when he saw the
man’s face. “Flanigan!? You’re the thief? But
why?” Flanigan looked about,
making sure his way of escape was still clear. “Why, you ask? Why, when I was
about to lose everything I’d ever worked for!” Danny shook his head, not
comprehending. “What are you talking about? You’re a director at one of the
biggest studios in Hollywood! You live in a nice house, you dine with the rich
and famous and you get to make movies. You’ve got it
all!” Chip walked forward. “Yes,
but that wasn’t enough for him. I figured out early on that someone was trying
to set L.B. up, and the more I saw the more it pointed to Flanigan.” Danny
raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Then why didn’t you tell
anyone?” “Because if I had, we’d
have had an ugly situation on our hands that we probably wouldn’t have been
able to control,” Chip said. “I was concerned that Flanigan would get wind of
my suspicions and try something drastic that would ruin the studio. I’ve had
him tailed for the last day and I knew he was planning to come here
tonight.” “How could you know
that?” Danny asked. “My secret
weapon!” Chip said, pointing to Zipper. The fly drew himself up proudly and
Chip continued. “I met with Zipper secretly after he and Monty got back from
Darla’s and I told him my conclusions. He’s been keeping a discreet eye on our
friend here and saw him stow the robe and gas can in his car. He wouldn’t
chance keeping those things in there for long, so it stood to reason he was
planning on using them
tonight.” “Then who are the
others chasing?” Danny
asked. “Shadows,” Chip said. “I
needed to get them out of the way, so I planted some fake evidence to make it
look like some disgruntled nutcase was behind this. That way, only you, Zipper
and me had to know it was really
Flanigan.”
Danny looked down
at the captured director, confused. “Why’d you do it, Flanigan? You’re the
best-treated director in Hollywood!” Flanigan harrumphed at Danny’s reply. “Oh
sure, but do I get noticed? No, it’s always the star! I had to
play second-fiddle to that conniving little monster Darla for years, and put
up with her endless tantrums! Did I get any credit for that? No!” Flanigan
started to get emotional, and the frustration mounted in his voice. “For
decades, I’ve worked and slaved, giving my life to my craft! And all I’ve ever
been is tolerated! And now, to top it all off, I’m being replaced by a
CAT!” Flanigan covered his head,
weeping in a mire of self-pity. “A ca-aa-aa-at! DeMille would
never have been replaced by a cat! But Flanigan T. Fosworth, he’s replaced
without anyone batting an eye-laaaaash!” Danny walked over, sympathetic, and
helped him up. “Hey, I know all about being ignored and treated with
disrespect. I am a cat, after all. You know how hard I had to fight to get
where I am now. Okay, so maybe you’re not Lucas or Scorcese, but you’re
certainly better than Roger Corman or Ed Wood. I understand that you feel
underappreciated, but what’s this all
about?” Danny held up the gas can
that Flanigan had dropped. “You hate me that much that you’d burn down
the entire studio to hurt me? That’s so low...Darla would do
something like that!” Flanigan looked up from his pity party. “You? No,
no...it wasn’t you at all! It was L.B. that I was after! He’s the one
who made you director, who took all the glory of the studio’s accomplishments,
and now that he’s about to retire he’s bound to name you as his
replacement! That why I decided to ruin him, and in the worst way—in front of
the board members! I intended to ruin his reputation with those false
financial statements. He can’t stand humiliation, but I wanted him to get his
turn at it just
once!” “That’s the most
selfish thing I’ve ever heard!” Chip chided. “You’ve made movies that
entertain and uplift, people know your name! And you’re ruining the studio
because you feel
underappreciated?”
Danny
interrupted his smaller friend. “For putting up with Darla all those years
you’ve shown you have a constitution of iron. You seemed happy when Darla got
canned and we’ve worked together great all these years. I thought we had a
great working relationship, Flanigan. We’ve done great things together. You
made history being the first director over an all-animal movie. Doesn’t any of
that mean anything to
you?” Flanigan walked around,
gesticulating. “Of course it does! Why would I be so infuriated
otherwise?” He started to calm some, thinking on what Danny had said. “Yes, I
enjoyed making history with you and Sawyer and all. You’ve...always treated me
well. It’s just that now, just when everything seemed to be paying off for me
and I’d finally get my turn at the big chair, L.B. pulled this
publicity stunt and made you the head director. Danny, it was more than I
could take! I’m...sorry I...shouldn’t have tried to take this out on you
but...oh dear, oh dear. I’ve really ruined everything, haven’t
I...”
Danny understood it all
now, and lowered his voice. “If it was such a problem, you should have talked
to us.” Danny began to pace now, thinking. “The way I see it, we have two
options: we could turn you over to the authorities or...uh, what did you do
with my script?” Flanigan cringed. “Well, you see, uh...I sort of disposed of
it. In my furnace at home.” “Or I
could thank you for saving my career by destroying that dog of a script that I
wrote. Having to rewrite ‘A Street Cat Named Desiree’ has allowed me make a
much better story, a story with
heart.” Chip looked at Danny,
incredulous. Flanigan uncringed, studying Danny curiously. “Huh? You mean, it
helped you?” “That first
script was written with a single-minded purpose, writing a script so that a
cat could direct a movie. I wasn’t thinking about making a good story—it was
bland and lifeless. The new script reminds me of the old days, the days when
people would tell me that cats don’t dance. The passion, the music’s there
again! I’ve let myself get into the politics of Hollywood so much that I was
beginning to forget why I came here in the first
place.” Flanigan’s shoulders
slumped. “I guess I was forgetting too. I wanted so badly to be head of
Mammoth Studios I forgot why. You’re right—it’s not about the glory, but just
making a difference.” Flanigan rubbed his forehead, repentant. “I don’t know
what got into me, Danny, but now I’m ruined! I’m sure your allies have pieced
together the entire puzzle, and L.B. himself will have the honor of booting me
off this studio lot and into jail. Can’t say as I really blame him,
either.” “Actually, they don’t
know,” Chip said. “As I said, I knew that the situation was a delicate one so
I planted some false evidence to lead them away. Then I had Zipper follow them
and he deflated one of the tires on Sawyer’s limo to ensure they wouldn’t get
back here before we could handle this on our
own.” “So we’re really the only
ones who know?” Danny
asked. “That’s right,” Chip said.
“Now we have to decide what to do with what we know. Do we go to
L.B.?”
“L.B. doesn’t have to
know,” Danny said, then turned to the director. “Flanigan, you’re one step
from the edge. You have to decide what you want. Do you want to keep doing
what you love or do you want to destroy it if you can’t have fame and
recognition for it?” Flanigan
looked outside though the big barn doors, now open, at the huge Mammoth
symbol, bathed in the moonlight. He’d been so young when he first saw that
symbol, so eager. He’d worked up from best boy and grip to set design and
finally to third assistant director. It took years more to gain the top spot,
and when it did come it was in the B-movie lot at first. Patience had won
Flanigan the more lucrative directing positions until he’d become L.B.’s
right-hand man. Now, the years had gone by and he remembered—the tragedies,
the happy times, the near
misses. “We have made a lot of
good movies here. In my own way, I’m just another Gutzon Borglum,” Flanigan
said. “Huh?” Chip
asked. Danny scratched his head,
trying to recall if he’d ever heard that name before. “Yeah, if that’s a good
thing, then yes you are! L.B. made me the director of this picture, but it
would be very helpful having an experienced director backing me up. Flanigan,
would you help me make history by helping me make the first animal-directed
movie?” Flanigan grinned. “Gutzon
Borglum was the artist who created the figures on Mount Rushmore. Everyone
knows the work when you mention the place, but no one knows the artist. Still,
I suppose that doesn’t matter. The work itself is more important. Okay Danny,
you’ve got a deal.” Danny looked up at Flanigan and then extended his hand.
“Well, with a name like that it’s easy to see why he’s not a household name.
Next time, if there’s a problem, let talk about it first. Remember, we’re a
team.” “Even if this doesn’t work
out, thanks,” Flanigan said. “You’re a rare person,
indeed.” “Thanks,
Flanigan.”
They shook hands,
then Danny returned his attention to Chip. “That all right, Chip?” Chip rubbed
his head, thinking. He missed his fedora, as he always believed he thought
better with it on. “I don’t
know…” “Please!” Flanigan said,
kneeling down in a pleading position. “Haven’t you ever done something in a
fit of passion that you regretted?” Chip slowly nodded. “A couple of
times.” “Then can’t you
understand the need to give someone who did a second chance?” Flanigan asked.
Chip worked his teeth in his mouth, thinking it over some more. “Well, all
right. But I’m going to keep an eye on you! If you’re trying to trick
us—” “I’m not!” Flanigan said,
taking one of Chip’s hands with his thumb and forefinger and shaking it.
“Believe me, you won’t regret this. I’ll make it up to all of you, and I swear
I’ll make things right!” Danny
and Chip looked at each other and nodded, then Chip spoke to Zipper. The fly
also agreed to keep their secret and Danny pointed the way to the nearby
parking lot. “Okay Flanigan, you’d better make like a banana and split before
someone comes in and sees you dressed like that with that gas can. They might
mistakenly think you’re trying to burn down the place. We start shooting in
less than a week. Are you going to be ready by that
time?” “Yes, but what about your
Ranger friends and L.B.? Surely they must be suspicious by now. How are we
going to explain all this to
them?” Chip stepped forward. “As
long as my diversion holds up, they’ll think that the criminal got away and I
won’t tell them any different.” Flanigan nodded, still somewhat in shock over
his good fortune. “I’ll never forget this, Danny. I’ll make sure to have
everything and everyone ready to go here when the new script’s finalized.” The
director headed for his car and a minute later, the trio was
alone. “Thanks, Chip,” Danny
said. “You too, Zipper.” “But did
we really do the right thing?” Chip asked. “We’re letting him get away with a
lot. He did make a mistake, but shouldn’t he have to pay for
that?” “Sometimes mercy’s more
important than justice,” Danny replied.
“He got away!?” L.B.
shouted. “That’s right, sir,”
Danny said. The tabby appeared glum, standing alongside Sawyer and the Rangers
the next morning in L.B.’s office. “Tell them about it,
Chip.” Chip came forward, taking
off his hat. “Last night, my team and Sawyer traced the script to an old
abandoned warehouse on the western side of town. Whoever this person was, he
was slippery because by the time they got there they’d already flown the
coop.” Sawyer took over. “Then we
searched the place to try to determine the criminal’s identity and found this
letter, evidently written for the Rangers...” She handed the letter over to
L.B. and the owner of Mammoth Studios read it, chuckling as he finished. “Let
him go, then. There’s no other country in the world that makes pictures the
way we do. Let him burn all the scripts he wants! Don’t worry, Danny, we’ll
get your movie made no matter
what.” The Rangers, Sawyer and
Danny exchanged smiles. “Glad you’re still with us on this, sir!” Danny said.
“In fact, I’ve just about finished re-writing a new script that has a lot more
potential than the first one—thanks to one of my new friends here.” Danny
gently bumped Dale in the side, causing him to go a little
off-balance. “Aw, it was
nothin’!” Dale said. L.B. stood
up, satisfied. “Excellent. If there’s anything you need to help you finish,
let me know and I’ll personally see that you get it.” Danny shook L.B.’s hand.
“I think Flanigan’s already handling that, sir. He’s really been a big help
with recovering from all this, and I’m glad that I’ve got him to catch any
mistakes I might make.” “Good,
I’m glad he’s on board with this. He’ll show you the ropes of working behind
the camera, and you might even be as good as he is someday,
kid.” Danny grinned, ducking
under his shoulders. “Well, Flanigan’s a pretty unique guy. It’d be hard to
match the passion he has for the job, but I’ll do my best.” L.B. walked them
all to the door. “Now you’d better get back to writing that script. Rangers,
well, it perhaps worked out for the best that the thief got away. An arrest
and trial would’ve been bad press for the studio, what with someone just
waltzing in here and stealing a script right off the lot. Good work, and you
can pick up your check from the accounting
department.”
As they left,
Chip and Danny exchanged looks of relief. Gadget walked up to the both of
them, looking up at Danny. “Well, I’m glad we were able to help save the
studio. Wish we could’ve caught the criminal, though. Gosh, I guess this means
we can go home now!” Dale didn’t like the sound of that. “Aw, do we
have to? I hardly got any autographs in my book yet! We haven’t even
gotten to meet Don Knotts
yet.” Danny immediately blocked
their route out of the studio. “Hey, you’re going to stick around for the
start of filming at least, aren’t you? I mean, without you guys, things
wouldn’t have worked out nearly as good! I’d like you to come and stay with me
as my guests for a couple of weeks. I’ve certainly got enough
room!” “And Gadget could stay
over at my place, if she’d rather,” Sawyer added. “With your eye for
inventing, maybe you’ll even come up with a way to improve my interior
decorating.” Chip wasn’t eager to be away from his work for that long. “I
don’t know if we could stay a couple of weeks, but perhaps a few days wouldn’t
hurt.” Dale pressed him. “Aw
c’mon, Chip! All you’re gonna do when we get back is read Sureluck Jones
stories and go to the police station an’ you know it! This is a chance to see
movie history being made!” “Got
to admit, the bloke’s got a point,” Monty said. “It was kind of slow at
home before all this, Chip.” Gadget threw in her two cents. “Well, it would be
intriguing, but I’d also like to get back to my workshop pretty soon. How
about if we stay a few days like Chip says and then come back for the filming
and the premiere?” “That sounds
like a good compromise,” Chip said. Danny grinned at Dale. “I’ll even invite
Don Knotts to the premiere when it’s time. Along with the rest of you, of
course.” “Wowie-Zowie!” Dale
shouted. “Big time, here we come!”
Chapter 6 – A Not-So-Chance Meeting and the Big
Finale
Two weeks
later, the Rangers gathered at Stage 17 of Lot C. Hot lights bathed the set
below, giving the impression of being in a football stadium at night. Sawyer,
in the role of Desiree, was on the sidelines in a cute cheerleader costume.
The Rangers were in the stands nearby, which were packed with a lot of the
classic cartoon animals. At the moment Woody Woodpecker was laughing that
annoying high-pitched laugh of his as Slappy Squirrel chased him, trying in
vain to bop him with her
sledgehammer. Up in the
announcers’ booth, Woolie the Mammoth was on the left for the Pricetown
Pachyderms. “…and today’s gridiron altercation promises to be an epic battle
of force versus speed,” Woolie said. Meanwhile, on the right, Tony the Tiger
was announcing for Tuberville Tech. “It’s a showdown in Tiger Town! Today, the
undefeated Pachyderms take on your Tuberville Tigers. The chief matchup to
look for is our own Stan Kowalski against Pricetown’s leading defender, Max
the Marauder! It’s going to be
grrrrrrrrreat!” The crowd
cheered wildly when the home team came out, Stan leading the way. Desiree
jumped up and down, all the time fighting for position with Blanche. For her
part, Blanche had welcomed Desiree onto the cheerleading squad eagerly—she
wanted her close so she could get even with her. The Rangers watched
everything going on with great interest. “Golly, this is so neat!” Gadget
said. “We’re actually getting to watch a movie being
made!” “And we’re right in the
middle of it!” Dale said. “Say, where’s
Chip?” “Oh, he’s backstage,”
Monty said. “Something about checking back home for
cases.” Dale looked incredulous.
“When all this neat stuff’s
happening!”
Chip just
couldn’t stand it. He’d had to call Tammy, who he’d left in charge of checking
in at the police station. The munk had been disappointed when she reported
that nothing was going on—he wasn’t big into this Hollywood stuff. The leader
of the Rangers sat down for a minute on a prop park bench, thinking, when
someone sat on the opposite
side. “Hey chipmunk, where’d you
get that funny-looking hat?” a voice spoke. Chip looked around and came
face-to-face with a fedora-clad human, wearing a leather jacket. The human
tipped his hat to him. “Nice choice.” The man got up, leaving an autograph for
him on a small slip of paper. Chip was flabbergasted, his mouth wide open, as
the human left the area. He grabbed up the autograph like it was gold, looking
as the human left the
building. “But how did…” Chip
started. “That was a thank-you.”
It was Flanigan. The director came up, tipping his director’s beret. “He used
to do repair work on my house. We’re old
friends.” “Gee, thanks Flanigan!”
Chip said. “You earned it. Now,
we’d better get back to the
action.”
Chip headed for the
set and joined the others in the stands. “You’ll never guess who I just met!”
Chip said excitedly, about to pull out the
paper. “Quiet, Chip!” Dale said,
shushing him. “You wanna get us thrown off the set? We’re coming up to the big
scene now!” The game had been a
battle, with Pricetown ahead 22-17 in the fourth quarter. Stan huddled the
team near the sidelines. “Okay, we’re going to run X-5, slot right, post
pattern. On three!” His team consisted of Yogi Bear and Snagglepuss at wide
receiver, with the Swat Kats, T-Bone and Razor, in the backfield. Pudge was at
center, and the rest of the offensive line was made up of the big animals on
campus. As he spoke, Blanche began making some hand signals to the opposite
sideline, and one of the Pricetown coaches wrote down something on a notepad.
Desiree walked up to her. “And just what are you
doing?” Blanche put her hands
down, thinking fast. “Uh, I have a boyfriend on the Pricetown team,” she said.
“I was just waving hello.” Desiree crossed her arms. “I thought Bruiser was
your man. Blanche, if you say hello that way again, I’ll stuff those pom-poms
you’re shaking down your
throat.” “Break!” Danny shouted,
and the Tigers came to the line. “Set! Hut one, hut two, HIKE!” Danny dropped
back to pass and then it was as if the offensive line parted in front of him.
Max—yes, that Max—came charging past Pudge and the rest of the offensive line
like a one-man wrecking crew and stepped on Stan. It left a big indentation in
the field, with Danny at the bottom of the giant footprint, and the ball
popped and went flat. “Whoa,
bummer,” T-Bone said.
The
referee blew his whistle and a medical team came out. Stan reached up his hand
for them to help him, but instead they took the ball on the stretcher and took
it off the field, tossing him a fresh one. On the sidelines, the coach
signaled for a time-out. With that, a bespectacled water boy grabbed up his
supplies. “When the team needs water I am not slow. It’s hip, hip, hip and
away I go!” Stan swayed back and
forth as he neared the sidelines. The coach caught him by the arm. “You’re
stinking it up out there, Kowalski! It’s like they know what you’re calling
before you call it!” Stan shook his head to clear it. “What’ll I do then,
coach?” “Don’t waste any more
footballs!” the coach shouted. “Our athletic budget’s stretched to the limit!”
Desiree ran up to Stan. “Stan, are you okay?” Stan checked his playbook. “I
don’t understand it! It’s like someone’s telling them what we’re doing!” Off
to one side, Blanche and Bruiser traded winks. Desiree caught Stan’s
attention. “I think Blanche and Bruiser are tipping off the other side. You’ve
got to call an auditor.” “You
mean an audible?” Stan
asked. “Yeah, one of those! Do
something unpredictable,” Desiree
said. With that, the referee blew
his whistle again. In the booth, Tony the Tiger was sweating bullets. “And
it’s all going to come down to this, Tiger fans! Fourth and seven, and the
Tuberville Tech boys have just ten seconds to score that touchdown!” Stan
called his plays at the line, and again Blanche signaled the other side. Then
Stan called a new play, catching them all
off-guard. “Looks like Kowalski’s
calling an audible,” Tony said. “He fades back, fakes to Razor, looking for a
receiver, and FINDS Snagglepuss along the sidelines for the first down! Two
seconds left now, with the receiver having made it out of bounds, stage right.
Kowalski’s calling the team into the
huddle.” “Okay, guys,” Stan said.
“We need to score on this play. T-Bone, Razor, you two go deep with the others
and look for it in the back of the end
zone.” “Hey, hey, hey!” Yogi
said. “Don’t worry at all, just throw me the
ball!” “Give me time to throw,
fellas. Break!” Stan said. Pudge came up to the line, and saw Max staring him
down on the other side, sneering. Pudge growled back at him, causing the
monolith of a man to blow him off the line—with his breath. The official blew
his whistle, calling offsides on the Tuberville
team.
Stan gulped as he saw
Max chuckling, then approached the huddle. On the sideline, Blanche had a pair
of binoculars, watching the quarterback. She began scratching like crazy, and
the Pricetown coaches immediately made some changes. Sawyer grabbed her purse
and marched over. “Hey, you little cheat! What is it with
you!” Blanche had been waiting
for this moment and grabbed a bottle of fleas she’d been saving for just such
an occasion. The bad little bunny uncorked the bottle and threw it at Sawyer.
At the same moment. Sawyer swung her purse. The brass knuckles inside it hit
the bottle, shattering it, and the contents went straight for
Blanche. In moments, Blanche was
scratching for real. “What’s wrong, Blanche?” Desiree said, laughing. “Your
conscience itching you?” Blanche screamed in rage, then the crowd screamed in
excitement. Sawyer shifted her attention as Danny took the
snap. Danny handed off to T-Bone
who drew the defense then tossed the ball back to Danny. “It’s a flea
flicker!” Tony announced in the booth. “And Max breaks through the line!” Tony
said. “He’s after Kowalski with a fury, no time left on the clock! Kowalski
scrambles, he scrambles! A receiver’s open in the end zone—he’s
counting nickels and dimes back
there…” “Hey Yogi,” Boo Boo said
from the stands, “why are you counting nickels and
dimes?” “Because we parked in a
metered space, Boo Boo!” Yogi said, then flipped his friend some change.
“Here, you go—save our two-seater and go feed the
meter!”
Tony the Tiger was
clenching his mike, looking like he wanted to strangle it. “No time left on
the clock! Kowalski can’t see his receivers through the mound of defenders!
Now there’s three, no, four of them on Kowalski’s tail!”
Desiree could see Blanche and
Bruiser laughing—though Blanche was paying for it—and knew that again they’d
managed to tip the other team. In a flash of inspiration, Desiree headed for
the bandleader and whispered into his ear. The leader nodded and the band
began playing the fast Latin rhythm “Havana” from “Guys and
Dolls”. “Stan!” Desiree shouted.
“Remember the routine!” Stan was
tiring, and he’d already given up fifteen yards avoiding the sack. Then he
heard the band playing, and Desiree’s shout. He spun about, using his dance
skills. Max leaped for the sack, but Stan leaped through the air and avoided
him. The giant plowed a huge furrow in the field, half burying himself before
he could stop. Two other Pricetown defenders went for the sandwich tackle with
Stan in the middle, but Stan did a limbo move and they crashed into each other
above him. He popped up and twisted and turned, dancing to the
beat. “He’s at the forty, the
thirty-five!” Tony said, his eyes bulging in wonder. “He fakes the linebacker
with a pirouette and does a pas de deux over another! He’s at the
twenty, the fifteen, ten, five! He leaps again, and—he’s in! Touchdown,
Tigers! The Tigers win!” The
crowd went wild with excitement, and Desiree ran out on the field. She hugged
Stan tight. “You did it! You won!” Stan hugged her back. “No Des, we
won. Thanks.” Slowly, they started to come together for a big kiss, when
the team lifted the two of them on their shoulders. “Rah, rah! Tigers,
Tigers!” they shouted, and they were off with a big flourish from the band to
a big victory
celebration.
The scene faded,
and when the next one began it was in the theater department. The stage
director had a smug look on his face. “Now, once more, gentlemen,” the British
badger said with a flair of satisfaction. “With feeling this
time!” Up on stage, the entire
football team, thanks to Bruiser, was adorned in tights and dancing to the
opening music of “The Nutcracker”. The coach was up there too, dancing right
along with them, and clouted Bruiser. “See what your stupid bet got us? I
heard about your deal with that Blanche girl and our rivals, too. You’ll be
running laps from now until
doomsday!” The coach danced over
to Stan. “I have to admit, without the dance training you’d never have made
it. Even if we have to look like dorks, if it nets us more wins next year,
it’s worth it.” Stan grinned, spinning around. “Don’t you worry, coach. We’ll
be a lean, mean, dancing
machine!” The team leaped as one
through the air, shaking the entire stage, and the stage manager and the
audience applauded. Desiree was also next to Danny, and smirked at the whole
thing. “We’ve never had this many people come for a performance, much
less a rehearsal. Looks like theater’s become popular all of a
sudden.” “When you can watch
300-pound linemen stumbling around to the ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’, you
bet it is,” Stan chuckled. “Say, whatever happened to
Blanche?” “Oh, she got her just
desserts,” Desiree
said. Backstage, Desiree
grumbled. She’d been assigned to cater the meals for the team, and she was
hurrying back and forth to get the cascades of food ready. Blanche scratched
her head repeatedly, vowing never to even look at another
quarterback. The scene switched
back to the stage, where Stan and Desiree danced together, happy in each
other’s company. The big football players lifted a long line of sugar plum
fairies and turned completely around, holding them up as they finished their
routine. The audience clapped its approval, and the curtain came
down.
“And, cut!” Flanigan
shouted. “That’s a wrap, folks. Great job, everyone!” The Rangers, who had
been in the audience, stood up and clapped again as Danny and Sawyer came down
from the stage. “That was
great!” Dale said, laughing still from the sight of those big guys on
stage. “That’ll have ‘em rolling in the aisles. And the football stuff was the
coolest!” “Glad you liked it,
Dale,” Danny said. “So, can we count you an official musical fan
now?” “You bet!” Dale said. “When
you do the next one, call me. We’ll come up with all sorts of neat ideas, like
a musical with vampires, Frankenstein monsters, werewolves…” Chip bonked him
on the head. “Don’t worry about it, Danny. He’s always like that.” Danny
blinked a couple of times, thinking. “A musical with
monsters…” Sawyer bit her lower
lip. “Uh oh…” Danny’s face lit
up. “Come on, Sawyer! Let’s get back to my
typewriter!” L.B. intercepted
them before Danny could get going. “Great job, everyone. I have a really good
feeling about this movie. Flanigan, for all the help you gave on this film,
I’d like you to think about replacing me when I retire from
Mammoth.” “Me, sir?”
Flanigan said, happily surprised.
“Really?” “Yes,” L.B. said.
“You’ve always been a loyal Mammoth man, and I know you’ll carry on the legacy
we’ve built here. What do you say?” Flanigan took off his director’s cap.
“Sir, all I can say is thanks. I’ll do my best to justify your
trust.” L.B. shook Flanigan’s
hand. “Good, good. I had a feeling you’d come through if I gave you a chance.
Now, what’s this I hear about a sequel,
Danny?” “Oh, I’ve got this great
new idea about monsters…” Danny started, but Sawyer pulled him aside. “Let’s
enjoy the completion of this first movie,” Sawyer said. “Then we can start
thinking about the next one.”
Chapter 7 – A Premiere Night to Remember and Fond
Farewells
Premiere
night in Hollywood is always a spectacle. The spotlights told the glamour city
that something big was going on, and limo after limo pulled up at Grauman’s
Chinese Theatre. When Sawyer’s limo pulled up, Stevens her manservant came
around and opened the door. The crowd gasped in awe as Sawyer exited, wearing
a sparkling sequined evening dress of fiery blue. Danny followed her up in his
own limo, along with the Rangers. Danny was in a tux, as were the munks, Monty
and Zipper. Gadget, despite her
reluctance to dress up, had been influenced this time by Sawyer. She was
wearing a sparkling purple full-length dress with matching shoes and a gold
necklace. She wasn’t wearing makeup—Sawyer’s influence only went so far—but it
hardly registered with anyone. As she walked up to the red carpet, escorted by
the munks, the photographers were taking her picture as readily as anyone
else’s. Then all attention went to Danny and Sawyer, who took up positions
behind mikes set up for
them. “Wow, what a turnout!”
Danny said, his voice resounding through big speakers. “We really want to
thank everyone for coming to tonight’s premiere of ‘A Street Cat Named
Desiree’. It’s going to be great fun for you, but not as much fun as it was
for us to make! Sawyer, anything you’d like to
say?” Sawyer took the mike stand
in her hands. “When we first came to Hollywood, they told us that cats don’t
dance. Then when we made this picture they told us that cats don’t direct. Now
we’ve proved them wrong on both counts. I eagerly await them to tell us
something else we can’t do, just so we can show them they’re
wrong!”
The crowd gave a
friendly laugh and clapped while Danny and Sawyer waved to the crowd and went
inside, the Rangers right behind. There in the lobby, L.B. and Flanigan were
in their tuxes, greeting the big-wigs and schmoozing up a storm. “Sweethearts,
celebrities, dahlings!” Flanigan exclaimed. “The stars are
here!” L.B. motioned Sawyer and
Danny over. “Folks, these two cats have made Mammoth Studios what it is today.
It’s a pleasure to be here for the historic opening of this first
animal-directed picture!” There was more clapping and hand shaking, and then
the small talk started. All the cast was there in their finest, of
course. Pudge came up and got the
Rangers’ attention. “Hi, guys! Just wanted to say thanks for all the help you
gave us. Glad you could make it for the big premiere!” Dale gave the penguin a
slap on the flipper. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world! Stars!
Photographers! Spotlights! Obscenely overpriced concession
snacks!!!” Gadget pointed across
the room. “Golly! Don Knotts!” Dale’s smile grew as he followed Gadget’s
finger. Sure enough, Danny had kept his promise and Don came over and thrilled
Dale with all his best Barney Fife lines, then signed his autograph book. Dale
was in a state of euphoria, and didn’t even notice when he bumped into
T.W. “Whoops, sorry there,” Dale
said, helping the turtle up. “Oh,
that’s okay. It’s probably good luck having a chipmunk bowl you over,” T.W.
said. T.W. straightened his bowtie and then something fell out of his shell—a
single bullet. T.W. grinned and put the bullet back in place, heading
off. Dale scratched his head,
thinking. “You know, come to think of
it—” “Hey Dale, come on!” Chip
shouted, waving Dale over, where he and the others were talking to Tillie,
Woolie and Frances. “They want a group picture with
us.” Frances looked Dale over.
“Sort of shrimpy—reminds me of my fourth husband. Insisted on telling everyone
he was a prawn.” Tilly jumped up and down, shaking the whole place.
“Oboyoboyoboy, picture
time!” Tilly picked the Rangers
up in her hands, so they’d fit into the frame with the rest of them. All the
crew gathered around and in a puff of smoke and light the picture was taken.
Tilly set the Rangers down again, and Dale now was as excited as Tilly had
been. “Wowie-zowie! This stuff is great! I think I feel a song coming
on!” Chip cast an annoyed look in
Dale’s direction. “Don’t be silly, Dale. There’s no such thing as spontaneous
singing! That just happens in the movies.” Dale crossed his arms. “Oh yeah?
Hit it, guys!”
Conveniently,
there was a small ensemble of musicians in the lobby, and they hit on the tune
to “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” as Dale started
singing.
The Rangers are
here to stay We came and
saved the day! When the
odds aren’t very good And
you’re down and out and you’re mis-un-der-stood,
hey, The Rangers are here
to stay!
Dale pointed to
the other Rangers. “C’mon guys, sing along!” The Rangers took up the lyrics
the second time through, save Chip. Then Dale put an arm around his old
friend, who was blushing with embarrassment at being the center of
attention.
Some munks
might be a little smarter than I
am Bigger and stronger,
too But none of them will
ever annoy you The way I
do, It’s me and you,
bud!
Now Chip joined in
with him, laughing.
And as
the years go by Our
friendship will never
die Two munks making those
bad guys pay! The Rangers
are here to stay!
The
rest of the Rangers backed them up. “You got that
right!”
The Rangers are
here to stay!
“Out of
sight!”
The Rang-ers are
here-to-staaaaay!
The
munks finished up with an improvised soft-shoe and the crowd clapped in
approval. Sawyer leaned over the two munks. “All he needed was a little
inspiration, right
Dale?” “Right!” Chip
tipped his fedora. “Okay, maybe there is such a thing as spontaneous song.”
Dale grinned. “Yep! Just have to have your heart open and feel the beat!”
Meanwhile, Woolie and Monty were talking about places they knew in common.
“…so there I was, right in the middle of darkest India!” Monty
said. “Darkest India?”
Woolie said. “Don’t you mean darkest
Africa?” “No, mate! I was right
in the middle of an India ink factory and they had a big spill!” Monty laughed
and Woolie shook his head. “I should have known. You know, I’m not exactly
comfortable around mice.” “That
why you didn’t take that Colonel Hathi role down at MouseWorks?” Monty
asked. “Precisely. Every actor
has his limits, after
all.”
With that, someone gave
the five-minute warning until curtain. The group started heading into the huge
theater, and soon the movie began. Danny was understandably nervous, but as
time went on and he saw the critics were staying he slowly relaxed. The crowd
reacted exactly the way he’d hoped, and the movie ended with the audience
laughing along with the kicker at the end. When the lights came up the crowd
clapped and whistled, and Danny breathed a sigh of
relief. The tabby looked around
at the others. “Friends, I think they like us!” T.W. trembled, looking for the
exit doors. “Do you think we can get out of here without having any black cats
crossing our path?” “Oh, don’t be
silly, T.W.,” Tilly said. “That was so much fun!” Tilly giggled and got
up. When she did, the seats around her settled back down to normal height.
However, it’d helped both Pudge and the Rangers, so they didn’t mind. “That
was cool!” Pudge said. “I looked really menacing as the center on that
football team. Maybe I should’ve tried out for the lead in the new ‘Hulk’
movie after all.” Cranston
crossed his arms, looking at Danny. “They’ll probably snub you out for Best
Picture and Best Director.” Danny shrugged. “Well, if they do, it won’t
take away from it being a good
movie.” “Well said,” L.B. said.
“Now, everyone join me for a premiere celebration party at the Trocadero, my
treat!” “Now that’s the
kind of words I like to hear!” Dale said. “Lead the
way!”
L.B. regaled the entire
cast and crew and the Rangers to song, food and the best of everything. Dale
spent the entire evening going from table to table, filling up his autograph
book. Danny and Monty told their favorite stories for hours on end, while
Gadget had an entire entourage of guys surrounding her (much to Chip’s
jealousy) while she explained everything from quantum theory to the mechanics
behind automated stage
lighting. Danny was telling the
story of how he got the lead for his first starring role when Sawyer tapped
him on the shoulder. “Care to dance?” she asked. She didn’t have to ask twice.
The orchestra met them with “In a Sentimental Mood” as they took the dance
floor, and the patrons clapped their approval as the duo glided across the
floor. “Thanks for standing by
me, Sawyer,” Danny said. “I couldn’t have gotten through all this without
you.” “You’re welcome, Danny,”
she replied. “And we can’t forget the Rangers, either. I was wrong about them,
I admit it. They had a lot to do with everything turning out right. But I’m
glad that you found the way to have fun again, and that everything worked
out.” Danny looked into her eyes
for a moment, then looked away, then back. “Um,
Sawyer?” “Yes?” “Would
you, uh, well…like to…that
is…” Sawyer’s face brightened,
and her eyes shone. “Stan Kowalski, are you asking me to go steady?” Danny
smiled back and nodded. “After all, we won the big game. What would I do
without you, Des?” Sawyer laughed. “Go down the drain, most likely. Okay,
mister popular, give me your class ring and we’ll call it a square
deal.” Danny reached into his
pocket and pulled out an exquisite diamond ring, slipping it onto her finger.
“I bought this years ago, but I never had the courage to give it you. I just
didn’t know how you’d react.” Sawyer gasped at the sight and Danny grinned. “I
always said that you’re my Starlight, and the sparkle from that’ll always
remind me of it.” Sawyer wrapped
her arms around him, giving him one platinum smooch. “Does that answer your
question on how I’d react?” “Uh
huh…” Danny said, ecstatically surprised. “Um, does this mean that we’re, uh,
engaged now?” Sawyer held up the
ring. “You better believe it, big
shot.”
The crowd broke into
applause, and from every corner photographers appeared, splashing the room in
light. Their friends came up to congratulate them, and Tilly picked up the
whole bunch, overcome with joy. The next day, the papers had a splendid
picture on the front page, announcing the engagement:
The first person to see it was
Danny, who had it in his hands as he and Sawyer were standing in Danny’s front
yard to bid the Rangers
farewell. “Thanks for everything
you’ve done,” Danny said. “You’re always welcome to visit, and we’d like you
to come back when we set the
date.” “Gosh, this is exciting!”
Gadget said. “I think it’s great that you’re getting married. Don’t you think
so, guys?” Chip nodded, holding his jacket lapels. “Can’t think of two people
that’ll do better. Well, we’d better be getting back home. It’s a long flight,
and crime never sleeps.” The
Rangers exchanged pleasantries with Danny and Sawyer, then Gadget started up
the RangerWing. The two cats waved goodbye and watched the small aircraft
disappear into the distance. Danny put his arm around Sawyer. “Well, what’ll
we do for an encore?” Sawyer took
his hand. “What else?” Music
started from somewhere, and the two of them were off and dancing. They danced
all around the yard, around the house, into Danny’s rehearsal room and kept on
going. Everything in their world was right, and with each one to give the
other strength they both sensed it was going to stay that
way. In a few minutes they got
into Danny’s Auburn, headed for a celebratory drive around town. Leo took the
record he’d put on the turntable off, putting it away. The dutiful butler
watched through the window as they motored away, and grinned. “One thing is
certain—life here will never be boring.”
Danny, Sawyer, L.B., Flanigan, Tillie, T.W., Frances, Woolie, Pudge, Cranston,
Darla Dimple, Max, Slappy Squirrel and Yakko Warner are copyright Warner
Brothers and used without permission. Yogi Bear, Snagglepuss, Magilla Gorilla,
Fred and Wilma Flintstone and the Swat Kats are copyright Hanna-Barbera and
used without permission. Woody Woodpecker is copyright Universal Studios and
is used without permission. Underdog is copyright Total TV Productions and is
used without permission. Tony the Tiger is a registered trademark of the
Kellogg Company, and appears without permission. The Rescue Rangers, Tammy and
Norton Nimnul are copyright Disney and are used without permission, but with
the utmost respect.