I'll Be Dog-Gone (14)

and hauls the goon back onto the boat. When she's pulled him onto deck, she whispers, "Your timing SUCKS." Turning to Ragnar, she adds, "Tie him up. I'll be right back."

Rae's door opens a fraction and she leans around it, just enough for Ragnar to get a lovely view of her bare (scar-covered) shoulders. "Good point. Tie him and we'll leave him on the docks." The door slams shut again. "Meet you on deck!"

"This place must have cost a fortune!" 6th whispered to Mouse as the Maitre'd seated them. Mouse looked around at the gold filigree, the brass, the tiffany decor, and the mirrors everywhere, and nodded.

He grinned. "Well..." He reached into his bag, pulling out two small sacks. He tossed one to Mouse who opened it, and could barely stifle a gasp. The bag was filled with cash, all high bills.

"Well, you don't think I was going to LEAVE all that cash we won there, did you?" Drum grinned, patting his invisible sack, "I could buy this entire restaurant if I wanted, so don't worry about the cash. We have plenty."

"Cool." Spyral grinned. A waiter came over, and they all ordered, Spyral asking for pretty much anything BUT seafood. The waiter was French, so they all had to relay their orders through 6th, who seemed to be fluent. She also was pretty savvy on different dishes and wines, making sure her friends got the best the Rainbow Room had to offer.

"You're mind link didn't pick up on that, huh? How strange!" 6th smiled, making Drum wonder if perhaps there were things in her mind he'd overlooked. It was a vast place...

They chatted and laughed throughout dinner, enjoying themselves immensely. Several other couples were dancing on the floor while a band played tunes none of them were familiar with.

6th looked up after a while. The music had stopped. "Uh, Drum...?" she looked around. Mouse and Spyral stood near them, looking upset. She looked the other way, seeing the band scattering. "Uh..." she looked behind her, Drum looking over her shoulder and freezing at the same time.

Diamondback leaned against a column behind them, idily toying with a long knife, smiling evilly at them. Goons had surrounded the two couples while they had been immersed in the dancing and each other. 6th spun around, her back against Drum's chest. Tommy guns and other assorted firearms were pointed at them from every direction. Big Al was on the other side of the room, grinning and smoking a fat cigar.

Drum put his arm around 6th protectively, as Mouse and Spyral edged over to them. They stood in a huddle in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded, outnumbered and outgunned.

"I'd never be able to get one out before they..." he inclined his head towards the gangsters. The goons stood fast, unwaivering in their aim, while Big Al and Diamondback talked in hushed tones. Words like 'cement' and 'river' and possibly 'hot dogs' floated over to the group, worrying them all more.

"I didn't say I couldn't. I said if I tried, they'd shoot before I could reach any potions. I could cast a spell if I had one I thought would work! But I can't think of anything!" Drum said softly. 6th picked up on his emotions, and held his hand, trying to sooth him mentally while she racked her brain for a plan...

Jila and Viridian sat on a park bench on the border between Merrie Olde England and Hollywood. What they found intriguing about the borders that existed around the various film worlds was that the costume you wore stayed the way it had been previously until you entered a new world. Hence, Jila and Viridian found themselves in proper British tweeds while staring at palm trees in the distance.

The borders were quite pleasant little parks. The two women sat for a while, discussing the various flowers they could see and reminiscing about the restrictive life they had led as Rockettes.

“Good grief, in my day you could get fired if Russell found out your had been out drinking,” Viridian said, laughing. “Oh course, that never stopped us from bar-hopping or staying out all night.”

“Ohhh,” Jila groaned, “I used to do that! And then I’d have to get up and dance through six shows the following day! After the last set of high kicks, I would feel like I was at death’s door!” Viridian laughed and nodded her head.

They sat there enjoying the pretty little park and the sunny day that existed within the border until they heard someone singing in a very loud voice-- someone they knew.

An astonishing vision came swaggering around the bend of the border’s path, approaching Vi and Jila with a walk that could only be described as a bow-legged stomp.

“I’m an old cow HAND, from the Rio GRANDE!!!” she sang, or rather shouted. She was decked out in a very extreme version of a cowgirl outfit; what Dale Evans might look like if you saw her while tripping on LSD. Artickat wore chaps and a huge red bandana. Her Stetson was enormous; had Vi and Jila not heard her voice, it would have been difficult to figure out who was hiding under all that hat. Her boots were bright red and her spurs clanked on the pavement of the pathway. Her shirt was black & white checks and a highly decorated holster hung down over her jeans and chaps. She stopped and looked at her friends. She twirled her six guns. “I’m the ROOTIN’EST, TOOTIN’EST cowgirl in the whole dang WORLD!!” she practically bellowed.

Artickowgirl came over and collapsed next to them on the park bench. “It ain’t wild no more!” she announced while wiping her brow. “Yowzer! I’m exhausted! Spent my whole time having to teach those boys some manners!”

Mouse whispered to 6th, "La fenetre! Dite a Drum ouvrir la fenetre!" (Sixth wasn't the only one fluent in French, and anything said in English could get them killed, so...)

It took Mouse a second to remember she could talk directly to Drum to, so she translated to his mind *La fen...uh, open the window! People are ALWAYS getting thrown out of windows in these movies, and if we can start a distraction (like a three stoges food fight) someone will get thrown out a window (hopefully not one of us) and we can escape.*

shot through the movie screen like speeding bullets. Their sudden appearance surprised the cast and the audience who might have been used to lizards and parrots but who had never seen a dinosaur before. Even a small one was terrifying to them. There was panic as people ran for the exits. There was shouting and screaming and pandemonium. Soon, the animal adventureres had the theater to themselves.

Up near the ceiling, toon eyes watched them exit. Tweetiebird had hidden up there since he had come through before. He had watched kitten come through after him and get chased off the stage. Now these others had come.

But Artist didn't rest. His head still throbbed like a base drum but he had to know where he was. The way Classic Land was laid out he could be an hour's travel from the longboat or days. So gesturing for the dogs to follow him, he headed off to find a map.

Shoeface's yacht had put out to sea and was cruising South. It was actually cruising in Classic Land waters, not in the Cable Ocean which was where the longboat was moored. But the two bodies of water were connected in many places.

"You don't know where we're going either." Kara said, standing up. With the yacht safely out to sea, she was no longer tied up, but her guards still followed her everywhere.

Suddenly there was a commotion. There was the sound of gunfire. Kara and her guards ran out on deck to see what was going on. Out in the ocean, deck guns pointed at the yacht, was a german U boat. And it was in black and white...

Kitten stood on the sidewalk, one front paw holding down her picture of Tweetie, the other tapping lightly upon it as she meowed for attention. She was getting a bit discouraged.

Her tail still throbbed, that was distracting, but worse was the fact that she was having no luck. She was used to talking to Scoobies all the time, they seemed to know exactly what she wanted. These people....?

So far three young women, four men and one old lady had tried to catch her and take her home. She had a small pile of cash, an old hat a drunk begger had left,and an empty bowl someone had filled with yummy milk but no Mr. Duckie. Surely someone would recognize his picture, how many Mr. Duckies could there be?

This was proving harder than she thought. She had lost Mr. Duckies trail when she ran for her life to get out of the big building with all the chairs! That place was scary, she didn't want to go back in there! *Sigh

Sniff sniff.....Her little head picked up. Sniff sniff! What was that? She slid her picture back into her back and looked around. A truely yummy odor was waffing around.

Bouncing across the wide walk she scampered down the store fronts following the odor to it's source. Was Rae cooking again? She liked Rae. Rae made her snacks!

Women screamed, babies cried, and men grabbed for something to defend them with. Sirens could be heard as fire engines and police descended on the scene.

Thor wasn't sure how to answer that one. He really hadn't thought about it before. No one had seemed bothered by him before...then he thought of the reaction of Momma's gang. That had feared him too. That was why his Queen had used him...

Viridian, Jila and the cowgirl formerly known as Artickat stood at the edge of the film world that was home to Casablanca, the RL capital of Morocco. Here it was perpetually stuck in World War II. They looked at each other. Artic’s stomach rumbled loudly. Vi shrugged and was the first to enter. Everyone gasped as the costume change took effect. Suddenly British tweeds had given way to mid 1940’s dresses, except for Artic, who was doing her damnedest to look like Marlene Dietrich in tailored trousers. *Jeeeeeez, the dren ya got to go through for a meal* she thought.

Artic just had fur. Her stomach rumbled again. As if that was the signal for action, the trio squared their shoulders and started the short trip into Casablanca. They could feel the sudden change in the air, it was warmer and more humid. There were palm trees around and the style of the buildings spoke of North Africa. They saw men in robes, other wearing fezzes on their heads and women swathed in black. They walked through crowded market places past stern men in Nazi uniforms and down tiny, narrow streets lined with big-eyed beggar children. They did not hesitate, nor ask for directions, because where they were headed was the center of this little film world and all roads would lead them there.

It was getting dark by the time they saw the neon sign blazing, “Rick’s Cafe Americain”. They heard piano music playing as they approached the door. Abdul, the doorman bowed to them as they stepped inside.

Cigarette smoke hung like a low cloud just below the ceiling. Sam was at the piano, playing the song “It Had to be You”. If the marketplace had been full of varied nationalities, Sam’s was no different. Nazi’s glowered at one table; Resistance conspirators whispered at another. A lady from Europe was trying to sell her jewelry to a Moroccan dealer, while a young couple tried to negotiate safe passage to America. The Scoobys just took it all in and Viridian summed it up: “Cooool,” she sighed.

They walked over to the bar aware of all the pairs of eyes on them as they passed by. Artickat leaned on the bar and asked the bartender, “Is it possible for a kitty to get a decent cheeseburger here?”

Before the bartender could answer, a low chuckle caused all three Scoobys to turn around. There at a small table in back, was Rick. *Wow! Humphrey Bogart!* Vi thought. He sat there, staring at them evenly. The chuckle had come from the other man at the table, who’s clothing in comparison to Rick’s neat white dinner jacket, looked dirty and tired; his leather jacket worn and his hat beaten up. He pushed back his hat to reveal his face, causing Jila to gasp and Viridian to turn several shades of pink. Artic suddenly looked like she wanted to slink away.

Jila looked at Viridian. Viridian looked at Jila. They both looked at Artickat, who was trying to shrink under a barstool. When she saw everyone staring at her, she shrugged at her friends and gave the men her most dazzling kitty smile.

Ragnar and Rae waste no time in securing a speed-boat. Rae handles all the negotiations. She may not have connections, but she has charm... And a rather large gangster standing at her shoulder. Money changes hands quickly, and the two push off.

"And if I did, it has a habit of disappearing once spent." Rae looks at the floor of the boat. She looks up suddenly. "I'll pay them back, though. Cash money. Off we go, then!"

Rae stares out at the U-Boat. "You're my prisoner." She says out of the corner of her mouth as she stands up and begins waving her arms. "British Intelligence. That's all you need: Name, rank, serial number."

Rae turns to face him, grinning, and pretends to slap him. "Watch it, British scum." she suggests as he falls backwards into the boat. She turns to face the Germans. "Ah, thank God. He was getting difficult."

"Good. Then I do not need to kill you yet." Rae turns her attention back to the German Captain. "Describe the boat to him." she says without looking at him.

"Very good. Good." The German captain says. "We saw such a boat just a couple of hours ago. Until we reach it, would you care to join me for dinner?" He smiles warmly, taking her hand.

"I can buy you an out. No worries there." Rae sits on the floor and stares despondently towards the door. Uncomfortable silence reigns until a loud claxon begins sounding. "What's that?" Rae looks around nervously.

Suddenly, IQ noticed the broom sitting nearby, "'Jila, still want to fly? Enjoy' hmm...I'm sure no one will mind if I use this to track everyone down"

A torpedo sped toward the yacht. Pedro and Jeff jumped off of the ship before it exploded. KaraS not knowing what else to do closed her eyes and jumped.

But she never hit the water. She opened her eyes and looked up to see IQ hanging onto her from rae's broom. Behind them the yacht exploded, throwing scorching pieces of metal in all directions.

The two are quickly escorted out of the U-Boat and back onto the power boat. Ragnar gapes at the sight that meets his eyes. IQ hangs over the wreckage on Rae's broom, struggling to keep it aloft with Kara's struggling dead-weight.

IQ, seeing Rae and Ragnar in the boat, turns the broom towards them. Rae shakes her head frantically, pointing to the U-Boat. IQ nods and waits for it to move off before joining them in the boat.

Rae takes the broom from him. "Didn't bother to read the WEIGHT ALLOWANCES did you?" Rae brandishes the broom under his nose. "You could both have been killed!"

Kara hops onto the broom and zips off. Rae sighs and slumps back into the boat, the illusion of her uniform fades and she is once again wearing Victoria dress. Her bustle goes *clunk* as it hits the bottom of the boat.

Ragnar and IQ stare at it until Rae, sighing in exasperation, pulls out a pulse-rifle and a med-kit. "Well you didn't expect me to go into this unprepeared? Let's find Artist while we still can."

Rae snickers and hands IQ and Ragnar occulars to aid their search. "Artist!" she yells into the still, debrise-strewn ocean, "Artist! If you're dead, I'll kill you! Artist!"

In the confusion, 6th bumped into Drum, disrupting his concentration. The spell misfired and a loud, deep reverberating sound was heard, followed by a hideous

Looking at each other, they noticed Artist's illusion had done it's job. Their clothing had automatically changed to fit the new environment. Both Spyral and Drum were

trying not to fall into the ocean. Obvioulsy, Rae didn't know how long it had taken her to learn to ride a bicycle, and balancing on a bike was easier than staying on the broom. The broom wove from side to side as Kara tried to maintain her balance. When she sighted land, Kara headed straingt toward it.

Kara's landing was hardly dignified. When she had picked herself up from the untidy heap she had crumpled into, she looked about herself, trying to decide where she was.

It was a jungle, she decided. Hot, steamy and opressive. And in black and white. It looked nothing like the country around the place where the longboat had landed.

Broom in hand, she trudged down toward the river she could see in the distance. When she got there she saw a boat tied up along the bank, The African Queen.

exited the Radio City Music Hall by a side door. Thor was dressed in the awkward trenchcoat and wide brimmed hat, with Sweetiepie perched on one shoulder and Louie, shrunk to his smallest size, hiding in the hat band. People gave them odd looks. You don't often see a 2 1/2 foot tall person swathed in black with a parrot on his shoulder walking through Times Square. But at least noone mistook Thor for a monster.

"Wait! Look over there." Louie squeaked in reptillian. He jumped out of Thor's hat and darted over to something by the wall. Then he grew big enough to eat the nugget of crunch he had found. "I think she was here."

So, like Hansel and Grettle following breadcrumbs, Sweetiepie, Louie and Thor tracked Kitten all over town. Finally they encountered a marvelous aroma.

"Well we couldn't stay in Disney with Mama mad at us." Pedro explained. "Jeff and I decided to try our luck in Classic Land. And we got jobs with Shoeface right away."

There is only one free port in North Africa, and he makes it there shortly after midnight. There is one joint open. Artist stops long enough to change.

He walks up behind a couple of familiar looking ladies. "I hope I haven't brought too much trouble with me. It seems to be following me around recently."

The exhausted illusionist slumps tiredly in a chair, pulls his white fedora down over his forehead. "Feel free to wake me up any time." Romil, Hulk and Killer rest under the table.

The kitchen door to the eatery opened and the head chef slamed open the wooden screen door just long enough to reach out a arm, kitten clutched in his fingers by the scruff of her neck, incriminating sauce on her face. He dropped her.

She landed on her bottom. Her injured tail smacked the alleyway. She grasped it in her paws as it throbed anew and looked over her shoulder to glare at the closing door. *Meow !*(Meanie!)

Kitten really hadn't paid much attention to where she was tossed. She had just hoped up on a table and begun working on a little kids meal when the people there had broken into hysterics, screaming and screaching. The chef had rushed in from the kitchen to see what was wrong.

There was kitten, sitting on his table, looking totally confused, like it was an everyday affair for her to hop on the table and eat. She remembered she hadn't yet paid for the meal. Maybe that was what they were upset about. She had rolled two morsels of crunch across the table. Surely that was enough to pay for this little meal.

*He's about this tall and...wait I have a picture!* Kitten continued to ramble on in hopes of progress. She slipped her little pack off and reached for the photo. A morsel of crunch rolled out. There sure didn't seem to be as much in there as their used to be.

Kitten suddenly felt nervous. They weren't interested in Mr. Duckie at all. *Errr its called crunch. Good for artickats!* She snatched up the stray nugget and dropped it back in the pack. The others saw more in the little bag as she did and began to salivate.

WHAP a paw, hardened by street life in the depression sent kitten flying head over heels! She tumbled back into a pile of papers and rags and lay still.

The pile of rags and papers stirred....the cats paused looking at one another. Kitten laystill, knocked for a loop. A deep growl sounded from the pile as a massive form struggled to the surface.

The big hound dog shook the last of his coverings off as he stood up. He hated bullies. He woofed for good measure as the cats ran away. The kitten at his feet was still.

He nudged her with a massive paw. She stirred but remained out. Thinking of nothing else to do he picked her up in his jaws and headed out of the alley.

Artickat sashayed over to the table with some more drinks. She stopped when she saw the man slumped at their table and the huge dogs that lay at his feet. It took her her a moment to recognize the face half hidden by the hat. “Well, look who the dogs dragged in!” she exclaimed brightly.

Artist just waved at her tiredly. Viridian signaled a waiter and ordered him some dinner. Artic stepped carefully over the dogs and sat down next to Jila. Her relaxation didn’t last long-- Strong hands gripped her furry little shoulders and lifted her out of the chair. Indiana Jones smiled charmingly at the others, causing Viridian to go pink again. “I hope you all don’t mind,” he said, “I just REALLY need to talk to Miss Kitty in private.” Ignoring Artic’s squeaks of protest, he half carried her to a quiet corner. He set her down and put his hands hard on her shoulders. “Alright, little Miss Furball, where is it?”

Indiana stuck his face down close to hers and stared at her nose to nose. He had day old whiskers and an angry glare. “You know damn well what I mean Artic!” He whispered furiously. “Ten pounds of solid gold in the shape of Bast, the Egyptian Cat Goddess-- remember???? Ruby eyes? I found it and you took it. Now, where IS IT?” He waited for an answer.

As Indiana Jones interogated artickat in Rick's Cafe Americain, three men entered the joint. They crossed to the table where Jila and Viridian sat and Artist dozed.

"Leiutennant, for desertion and dereliction of duty we have arrested you. You will be returned to outpost three where you will be executed by firing squad..."