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Literature Text
Chapter 2
The Talent Show
~Monday - Dec. 1st~
On the outside, Acme Looniversity probably resembles what anyone would expect of a school. But if the tall stone statues of two famous cartoon characters weren't enough, any student who walked through the front doors would paint a vastly different picture of anyone's absurd idea of common education. The truth was that Acme Loo, being a school for Toons, was as far removed from the "common" school curriculum as one could imagine.
While some schools have chemistry classes, Acme Loo has Exploding Cakes. Most schools discourage dangerous stunts, and wisely so, but when you're a cartoon character and your main purpose (or at least one of them) is to administer laughter and humorous gags, you can't be afraid of getting your head pounded — quite literally — flat.
In a general summary, at Acme Loo, normality is discouraged and zany, outright free-thinking lunacy is something to smile at. After all, when you're a Toon, what's better than a good laugh?
However, that isn't to say the teachers of Acme Loo don't take education seriously. Quite the contrary: A Toon needs to be well-practiced and finely-tuned before they're ready to take on the world as successful cartoon adults. Plus, there's college to look forward to — actual, real, not-so-much-nonsense college. Toons may have the advantage of occasionally defying reality, but when it comes to cartoons that talk about life — or, as the kids these days call them, "Slice of Life" — a Toon has to know when to laugh and when to be serious. And seeing as Tiny Toon Adventures has been off the air for more than a year now, Hamton and his friends were living as real lives as one could imagine for a Toon: occasionally crazy, but, at the same time, welcomingly normal.
Thus, the morning classes of Acme Loo resumed right where they left off before Thanksgiving break. Some lessons, such as Outwitting with Prof. Road Runner or Wisecracks with Principal Bugs Bunny, proved intriguing to most students.
Outwitting was always a tad awkward due to Prof. Road Runner's inability to speak anything other than "Meep ", but nonetheless, his class was entertaining as well as enlightening. Most days Hamton and the class analyzed videos of cartoon characters getting the better on their villainous rivals, whether it was using verbal tactics to outsmart them or simply tricking them into walking off cliffs.
Wisecracks was a favorite to many — not only because Bugs Bunny was the teacher, but because the students often got to practice on each other: throwing mild insults and thinking up smart comebacks.
Buster, Babs, and Plucky were especially good at Wisecracks. Fifi and Shirley were all right, and Hamton was, in polite terms, okay. Compared to his friends, he never quite got outstanding results due to his fear that he might accidently hurt someone's feelings. Whenever he practiced Wisecracks with Fifi, however, he not only had trouble thinking up anything witty, but was rendered incapable of speaking all together, except for short stutters like, "Uh...um...y-yeah, you the same."
It was hard to say what was more embarrassing for Hamton: Fifi's puzzled look or how everyone else stared at him.
Nevertheless, Wisecracks was still pretty fun. Hamton especially liked the comedy skits his friends put on. Some days it was almost like being back on Tiny Toons.
As with every school, however, some classes proved to be remarkably dull.
Calculations with Prof. Granny was as difficult as any math class, where the only thing some students ever counted were Zs. That is, until Granny smacked their desks with an ACME Indestructible Yardstick. (She went through these a lot and was currently out).
Another boring hour and fifteen minutes was Self-Centerism with Prof. Daffy Duck, though the monotony of this class was mostly due to the status quo Daffy had obtained over his long career of being constantly outshone (and from being a total blowhard). Plucky, though, proved to be quite attentive to his mentor (both out of respect and for his own reasonable talent with the subject). But Plucky was nowhere near as gifted with Self-Centerism as Montana Max, whose greedy, self-absorbed nature was so nefarious, one often wondered why Monty hadn't yet married himself.
The other classes all had mixed feelings from the students, depending on their interests. Prof. Pepe Le Pew taught lovey-dovey French as well as Smellogy, though not until the Spring Semester when all the windows could be thrown open (thank goodness). Prof. Elmer J. Fudd taught Cartoon Logic, which was a balance of calculations and fascinating side-effects and theories found in animation. Last but not least, Prof. Foghorn Leghorn taught Hound Teasing, which was as basic as picking up a stick and playing fetch when, in actuality, there was no stick.
When the bell rang for Lunch, it was a like a breath of fresh air for the students, who had practically drowned in the knowledge being pushed upon them.
Hamton, as always, was the first one to arrive in the cafeteria, having zipped straight out of Calculations and leaving a cloud of smoke in his absence.
He was halfway through eating his lunch of soup, sandwich, and salad by the time Buster, Babs, Plucky, Shirley, and Fifi joined him at the table. After a few mouthfuls, they began to discuss a question that had come up in Calculations.
"I still don't understand how anvils can adjust their speed while falling," Plucky said while chewing a bite of sandwich. "The way they follow me around, you'd think they know how to fly!"
"Well, I'm just guessing here," said Buster, "but I think part of it involves Cartoon Logic, being that anvils adjust depending on context or when the situation demands it. But who knows?" he shrugged, taking a sip from his can of carrot juice. "We don't normally question things like why some anvils fall faster and others stay airborne. A lot of animation is just like that: if there's an anvil's falling, it's gotta land on somebody's head."
"Yeah, Plucky," said Babs, "they just happen to land on your head more than anyone else's."
Plucky snorted. "Yeah, well, at least I can handle it when an anvil falls. You'd all probably spend time in the hospital, and I ain't talking about the Five-Second Recovery Ward down in the Nurse's Office."
A couple more moments went by where the group took bites and Hamton, sipping from his mini milk carton, glanced around at the other students. Calamity Coyote was savoring spoonfuls of Imitation Road Runner soup. Furrball, who had finished his lunch already, was seated next to Calamity and seemed to be asking around the table if anyone was planning to toss out any food.
Over in the most polished corner of the cafeteria, where a large sleek window gave a clear view of the snow-covered grounds, the scent of five star cooking wafted around the room. Montana Max was eating Turkey alaKing on a solid gold platter with silverware made out of fine 18th century silver. He sipped from a crystal goblet of cold, sparkling children's tears. After a satisfying gulp, he snapped his fingers in the air expectantly. Grovely handed him a one-hundred dollar bill, which Monty used as a napkin before holding it to the candelabra and watching it burn.
Occasionally, Monty would look around, hoping to catch someone staring jealously at his wealth, because if there was one thing Montana Max loved more than money, it was flaunting his money and watching other people squirm, knowing they will never have as much as he did. But most of the school was used to this by now, and the only person looking in his direction today was Elmyra, waving and giggling.
Annoyed, Monty went back to his high-class dish, biting his fork in half and chewing it in frustration.
"So," said Hamton, putting down his milk carton, "what are you guys planning for the talent show? I know what Plucky and Fifi are doing, but what about you guys?" he asked to Buster, Babs, and Shirley.
"Oh, you know me, Hamton," said Babs. She put her fork down in her salad, then stood up from her seat and spun around. For a moment, she resembled a miniature pink twister, not that different from Dizzy Devil (minus the flecks of spit and destruction). When Babs slowed to a stop, she was dressed in a leather jacket and greasy blue jeans, bearing a face which belonged to someone looking for a good fight.
She pounded her fist into her palm. "An actress' gotta do what an actress' gotta do," she said in a gruff, manly tone.
Hamton heard a reasonable bit of applause around the cafeteria. Babs gave the clapping crowd a curtsy, which looked quite funny in her gangster get-up. Then she spun around again and stopped, back in her yellow sweater and purple skirt.
"I've got about forty new impressions to show-off," she said. "I'm still unsure which would be best, though. We're only allowed five minutes each. I'm thinking of maybe doing a cross between Billy Joel and Ben Stein."
Buster smirked. "Yeah, 'cause everyone loves a monotone business man with a healthy obsession for pianos. No offence, Babsy," he added quickly, "or to Mr. Joel or Stein."
"Eh, none taken." She hopped back down into her seat and took a bite out of her carrot sandwich. "I still don't understand why you didn't want to enter, though, Buster. We would've made an awesome act."
"I told you, Babsy, I don't feel like it this year," Buster said with a sigh. "I mean . . . last year wasn't my best show. . . ."
Babs cringed slightly. "Yeah, good point."
Hamton, too, remembered the day well and agreed with Buster's decision not to enter. Never could Hamton have imagined that a unicycle, an elephant, and a ship anchor could do what they all did when put through a large hoop hanging 30 feet off the ground. Montana Max had laughed so hard at the disastrous outcome, he wound up in the Acme Hospital's ER.
"Don't feel bad, Buster," said Plucky. "Not everyone is destined for the stage like me."
Everyone rolled their eyes.
"What about you, Shirley?" asked Buster. "You thinking of stealing a couple spotlights?"
"Like, no way am I going up there again!" she said, crossing her arms. "I got nothing but bad vibes from the audience after I read their futures. I mean, it was almost like they didn't want to know!"
"Well, you did kind of predict a lot of dreary stuff," said Hamton hesitantly, afraid that he might offend her. "Remember when you predicted there would be heavy rain?"
"Which came true!" Shirley remarked critically.
"Yeah," Buster said deadpanned, "but you failed to mention the rain drops would be the size of semi-trucks."
"Hmph!"
"Oh, do not fret, Shirley," said Fifi sweetly. "You also gave hope to some. Why, you predicted zat love was bound to find us, and look at Buster and Babs," she smiled, motioning to the two rabbits across from her. "Holding hands, happy, and so very ensemble (together)".
Buster and Babs both blushed.
With a dreamy "Le sigh . . .", Fifi placed her hand against her cheek. "I envy you both. If only I could find my special somebody. I dreamt about him as I walked to school today."
Hamton froze in the act of spooning some soup. "You, uh . . . did?" he asked.
"Oui!" Fifi said, smiling. "Tall, strong, and so, so beau (beautiful). Ze perfect skunk. Oh, if only you all could see him!"
"Yeah. . ." Hamton said normally enough, though inside he felt his appetite diminish and he placed his spoon back into his soup bowl.
"He held my hand," Fifi said soothingly, tracing a purple, furry finger around on the table top. "He was kind and charming, with his montera and —"
"Uh, Fifi?" said Babs, sounding suddenly unsettled.
But Fifi continued, " — zat silky red cape —"
Buster cringed. "Fifi, your - uh, your — " He looked slightly sick and brought his shirt collar up over his nose, but Fifi didn't notice. She was still eyeing the table with immense longing.
Hamton, who was eyeing his friends, frowned with confusion. Babs pressed her napkin hard into her pink nose, and Plucky and Shirley had both hands covering the slits in their beaks, their eyes starting to water.
But then Hamton sniffed the air. Eyes widening, he acted quickly. He patted Fifi's hand. "Fifi!"
Fifi broke from her daydream, looking curious. "Oui?"
"You . . . uh, well . . ." Hamton didn't know how to say it. Besides feeling his face go red at making contact with Fifi's hand, he was afraid of embarrassing her by mentioning it. But knowing it would be worse not to do anything, he silently pointed in the direction of Fifi's tail.
"Huh?" She followed Hamton's finger and saw, to her fright, a very faint yellowish-green mist hovering over her tail. "Oh, my! I am sorry! So sorry!" she said to her friends. Quickly and frantic, Fifi reached behind her back, pulled out a folding fan, and began fanning desperately.
The sickly green cloud vanished, but, as expected, the odor lingered long enough for the surrounding tables to get a whiff, which was enough to make some gag while others merely pinched their noses. Calamity had pulled out a clothes pin and fastened it over his snout. Little Beeper actually ran out of the cafeteria.
Over at his table, Montana Max had thrown the window open, letting in a cold draft that broke through the cafeteria's warmth.
"Hey, skunk!" he snapped in Fifi's direction. Fifi did not look towards him, but kept her eyes down at her half-finished salad. "Skunk! I'm talking to you! Do us all a favor and give a warning the next time you let one off! The food this dump serves is bad enough, we don't need you making us add our vomit to it!"
Hamton gave Monty his hardest glare, who was now pulling on a gasmask before continuing his lunch. Grovely, Hamton noticed, merely had a handkerchief pressed to his nose, though he didn't appear too unsettled by the smell. Behind Monty's back, he gave the rich boy an exasperated shake of his head and moved to close the window, cutting off the bitterly cold draft.
Hamton turned back to Fifi, and at once his anger for Monty died and was replaced with pity.
Fifi's head was bowed and her eyes were slightly wet.
"I am sorry," she said softly to her friends, not taking her eyes off the table. "I did not mean . . . it just . . ."
"Fifi . . .," said Hamton gently, his stomach tying itself in knots. "It's okay. We're not mad." He looked at his friends, praying he was right. But there was no need to worry.
"Yeah, like, come on, girlfriend," said Shirley, placing a hand on Fifi's shoulder. "It wasn't too bad."
"Yeah," said Babs encouragingly. "Nobody fainted, did they? Don't worry about a thing, Fifi. Everyone's fine. And don't listen to a word that rat, Monty, has to say. I can't see how he can criticize you when his face is more likely to make people gag. Poor Grovely must hate having to live with him."
Fifi looked up and gave a small smile.
"Still," said Plucky abruptly, "when something stinks it stinks," and he pushed his last bit of sandwich forward, having lost interest in it. "No offense, Fifi — seriously, I mean that, no offense — but next time spare us your sappy talk. I get that you're lonely, but that stuff alone is enough to make someone lose their — AHH!"
Plucky broke off and winced in pain. Shirley, glaring dangerously with her teeth bared, had punched Plucky in the side of the arm.
But then, to everyone's greater surprise, Plucky jumped as something hard hit him from under the table.
"OW!" he exclaimed, grabbing the whole room's attention. Rubbing his leg, he retorted, "What was THAT for, Hamton?"
The others looked at him in astonishment, but he quickly responded, "Oh, sorry, Plucky! Shirley took me by surprise."
Plucky and Fifi both accepted this answer, but to Hamton's unease, he saw Buster and Shirley giving him suspicious looks, and Babs showed the faintest trace of a smirk.
His throat feeling tight again, Hamton returned to his soup.
***
After lunch finished, the students passed some time in the library before heading off to their last classes for the day.
Fifi, Babs, and Plucky left in the middle of the lesson to prepare for the Talent Show, leaving Hamton, Buster, and Shirley stuck listening to Daffy complain about why he should've won an Oscar that currently sat in the trophy case bearing Bugs Bunny's name.
At 2:00, the bell rang and the students poured into the halls on their way to the school auditorium.
Once there, Hamton, Buster, and Shirley grabbed three seats in the front row, closest to the stage. Off to the right at a fold-out table sat the Talent Show's three judges: Principal Bugs Bunny, Prof. Granny, and Prof. Pepe Le Pew. Gogo Dodo stood beside them, his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his feet. Next to him was a wooden sign, depicting a large clock face with numbers but no hands.
For a while, chatter from the students filled the auditorium, but within minutes, the spacious room fell into quiet darkness when the overhead lights were extinguished and the spotlights illuminated the stage. The folds in the long red curtains were visible as circles of light passed over them. The polished wood floor of the stage gleamed, emphasizing the space in which it stretched.
For a moment, all was still. Then the red curtains divided.
Out stepped Prof. Elmer Fudd, dressed in his blue teacher's suit, his bald head slightly reflecting the spotlight that followed him as he moved forward to address the school.
"Good afternoon, students," said Prof. Fudd, his voice amplified through a handheld microphone, "and welcome to this year's Annuwal Tawent Show. We teachers at Acme Woonaversity are pweased to see that so many aspiawing students have vowunteered to demonstwate their many tawents."
Elmer Fudd took a moment to clear his throat, and around the auditorium, Hamton, Buster, and Shirley could hear students snickering. Prof. Fudd's age-old speech impediment hadn't changed a bit after so many years.
"Now, befowe we begin," Prof. Fudd continued to the now silent crowd, "awwow me to go over the wules. Each student will come on stage one at a time. They will each have a maximum of five minutes to show their tawent which, at the end, will be judged based on skill, gwace, and personawity, each adding to a gwand total of thirty points. The student who wecieves the highest scowe will win the tawent show and a small pwize, compwements of the school staff. And now, without furver ado," and he pulled out a flashcard from his pants pocket, "I pwesent the first pawticipant, Pwuky Duck and his 'Evweything Act'."
The room let off a light applause as Prof. Fudd walked down and sat beside the judges.
From out behind the curtains, Plucky walked on stage, dressed in a light-blue suit jacket and wearing a matching bow tie. His face held calm and confidence, as well as the usual trace of smugness.
Gogo Dodo hopped up and pressed his back against the painted clock face. He pointed his arms up at the twelve and one and slowly started moving one arm counterclockwise from which actual ticking could be heard.
With the five minutes counting down, Plucky began his act.
It was one of the strangest things Hamton and his friends had ever seen, and they had all seen and done some pretty crazy things.
Plucky started off by pulling five bowling pins out from behind his back and began juggling them while singing a loud, ear-torturing something which everyone supposed was a song. Then a unicycle appeared underneath him and he tossed a few pies into the air, each one hitting him squarely in the face. Then he broke into a tap dance; he started reciting Shakespeare mixed with slang; he dissected a frog; he impersonated an owl; and finally, he jumped into a cannon that shot him straight across the room and onto a trampoline nailed to the wall, bouncing him back onto the stage, where he landed with his arms outstretched in an obvious "TA-DA!"
A couple seconds passed where all that could be heard was a single, unnoticed cricket.
Nobody applauded except for Daffy Duck, Hamton, and his friends. The judges and everyone else were staring with wide eyes and baffled faces, not really certain what they had just finished seeing. Plucky's eyes darted around the room, his smile starting to look strained.
Eventually Granny, Bugs, and Pepe came to their senses and wrote down their scores. They each held up a score card, neither looking very impressed: Granny gave Plucky a two; Bugs, a three; and Pepe, a one. A total score of —.
"Six?" Plucky bellowed, completely outraged. "I do all of that and all you give me is a lousy six?"
"Sorry, Plucky," said Bugs Bunny, and he truly sounded like he was. "Too many chaotic changes are hardly ever a good thing, even in cartoons. You've got a lot good talent up your sleeve, but you need to have some solid ground onto which you can base your talent, not just let it go crashing around the room. The audience will mostly end up being confused rather than amused, as you can plainly see," and he motioned around the room of still baffled students.
To the right of the judges, Gogo, still attached to the makeshift clock, held up his own kind of score card, which depicted a large capital "D".
"A 'D'?" Plucky shouted indignantly.
"Yep," said Gogo, smiling. "You totally earned it!"
Growling, grinding his teeth, Plucky ripped off his bowtie and stormed away behind the red curtains.
"What?" called Gogo, looking confused. "It stands for 'Determination'."
"Well, I give Plucky an 'A' for effort," Buster said to his friends.
"Like, wouldn't that be an 'E'?" asked Shirley.
Before Buster could respond, Prof. Fudd, standing beside the judge's table, spoke into the microphone. "Next up, we have Cawamity Coyote and his super science."
On stage walked Calamity Coyote, who demonstrated his scientific ingenuity to the school. Most of it was in the form of highly sophisticated traps, all of which backfired at the last moment. Thankfully, Calamity used his lightning-fast skills to build a landing pad before crashing into the stage. He received a score of twenty for skill and personality, though grace, given all the bangs and unexpected results, was left something to be desired. Gogo's scorecard depicted a stick of dynamite; whether it was meant to be encouraging or insulting, he didn't say.
"Next," said Prof. Fudd, "Elmywa Duff."
Tied to a leash, Elmyra was led on stage by Pete Puma. She had been granted permission to compete in the Talent Show so long as she swore not to run and grab any students, as did happen last year. This year, to everyone's surprise, she recited poetry she created herself. Most of it turned out to be deeply disturbing couplets about "cute widdo" animals she had once owned:
I once had a turtle-wirtle named Shelly-Welly,
I used to hug him tight and squeeze his cute shell belly.
Then one day, when I woke up in my bed,
I greeted my cute turtle-wirlte, and saw he had no head.
Pale faced and wide-eyed, Granny, Bugs, and Pepe scores went in this order: nine, one, one. Gogo, for once looking disturbed, showed a scorecard with Edvard Munch's famous painting, "The Scream." Elmyra didn't seem to mind, however; she was too busy fighting the urge to leap off stage and find another cutsy-wootsy critter to hug and squeeze, like her dead turtle-wirtle. Thankfully, she seemed to master the impulse for this one occasion and walked willingly offstage with Pete.
"Well, those are images our minds will never be healed of," said Buster.
"Ah, don't worry. We'll be fine," said Shirley nonchalantly. "It's, like, a matter of mind over matter."
"And a matter of keeping away from Elmyra," Hamton added.
"Hmm . . . yeah, that too," Shirley agreed.
Next on stage was Mary Melody, who performed the most normal talent any Toon at Acme Loo ever saw: playing the piano. While it wasn't terribly exciting for most Toons, Hamton thought the young human teenager played rather beautifully and received a fair round of applause at the end. The judges must've liked it too, as they each awarded Mary with an eight, for a total of twenty-four points. For whatever reason, Gogo held up a picture of a heart.
Then at last came Babs Bunny — no bowling pins, no explosives, no disturbing poetry. From the moment she stepped out from behind the red curtains, her identity and outfit changed into . . .
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello. Many of you may be wondering why I'm interrupting this scene. Well, due to the fact that people, organizations, and many sentences themselves are often copyrighted, I feel it would be unwise for me to state too many actors' names, movie titles, and such and such into a fan-made story. So, I'm simply going to stick to scenes that, hopefully, will pass by as acceptable and not copyright infringement. Good luck guessing the references!)
Babs was dressed in military gear with a red bandana, and appeared to be holding . . . a machine gun. The judges' mouths dropped at the sight of the weapon, but Babs, looking dead serious, pulled a sign out from behind her back, which read:
NOT A REAL GUN! DUH!
Underneath this message, in very tiny print, Hamton could just barely make out, But seriously, young viewers — never, ever bring a weapon, even a fake one, into school, EVER!
Then, without warning, heavy metal music blared from out of the overhead speakers. The entire school jumped in their seats as Babs began an ongoing yell and the sound of blank rounds exploded from the gun's barrel. It lasted for 10 whole seconds: the gunfire blaring and Babs' yell of fury.
When the gun finally clicked empty, Babs tossed the gun away, spun around, and was now wearing an elegant dress and a long red-haired wig. From under her feet, an iron ship shot up from out of the stage. Babs stood at the bow's railing and stretched out her arms like a bird, her long red locks flying in the wind as a romantic song swelled in the background.
The ship sank into the stage and the music went from romantic to jazzy. Babs spun around again, stopped, and was now in a colorful Hawaiian shirt. Her hair was spiked at the front and she wore red and black striped pants. For whatever reason, animals — birds, raccoons, cats, dogs — drew to her like fish on a hook (making Elmyra feel very jealous).
The jazz ensemble broke and "Hail to the Chief" took its place. Babs was now on stilts, wearing red, white, and blue clothes, a large top hat on her head, holding a large American flag on a pole.
Then she was a little girl with a red hood, skipping with a basket; a pirate with dreadlocks and a beaded beard; a pale white man with green hair, red lips, and a huge smile that would give any child nightmares. On and on, one impression after another until Gogo's mouth emitted the sound of a ringing bell, signaling the end of Babs' turn.
The end result was deafening. Buster, Hamton, Shirley, as well as the whole school stood up and applauded wildly. Wolf whistles, whooping, and "ENCORE!" roared around the auditorium. Babs, out of breath but clearly happy, gave a bow to her ovation.
"That's my girl!" Buster shouted, cheering like mad.
"Like, awesome!" cheered Shirley, levitating as she applauded.
"What to go, Babs!" cried Hamton, wiping away his tears from having laughed so hard.
A few seats away, Monty was the only one not clapping, looking cranky with his fist pressed into his cheek. To the side of him, Grovely was clapping softly.
"Good show," he said.
When the applause finally died, the judges revealed their scores, and the applause started up again.
Granny and Pepe both gave Babs a nine, and Bugs gave her a perfect ten: A score of twenty-eight, for excellent personality, superb skill, and reasonably fine grace (sort of). Gogo's sign depicted a golden Oscar.
Once the clapping died away for a second time, Elmer Fudd stood up from his chair beside the judges table and cleared his throat. "And now," he said, "pwease welcome our wast participant, Fifi Wa Fume, perfowming 'Habanewa' by Fwench composer, Georges Bizet."
(A.N. - To hear a sample of the song, go to YouTube and search "Habanera - Carmen - Bizet - Nana Mouskouri", or else click here. Just one of several fine examples.)
The lights of the auditorium, which had lit up for Babs' act, dimmed again, leaving only one spotlight to shine on the center crease in the large, red curtains. Out from it stepped Fifi.
Hamton's breath seemed to catch in his throat and his cheeks were suddenly warm. Fifi was wearing a dark rosy pink dress. The sleeves were short and the skirt fell to her ankles. Her light purple eyes gleamed, her face was calm, and her hands were folded together up front. Her posture was totally peaceful. Even her large fluffy tail remained still.
Hamton almost forgot to breathe.
Then, out of the corner, where no one could see, a violin began to play. The first few notes were soft and short. After three repeated measures, a sound, more beautiful than any instrument, filled the auditorium.
Fifi's voice reached every ear, singing an aria that practically danced with the violin, playing steadily with each French word. Its melody was gorgeous; its harmony, graceful; its tone, gentle. As the song progressed, Fifi's voice increased where the notes demanded, and never did she fall short.
Buster and Shirley (in their seats), Plucky and Babs (both backstage), the whole student body and faculty — all stared speechless as Fifi sang and walked across the stage, her steps practically lighter than air.
Hamton was spellbound; he could feel nothing but his beating heart. He didn't understand what the song meant, but the music seemed almost too beautiful for words. And the one singing it . . . the song was nothing compared to her. Hamton's pig ears seemed to sigh as Fifi's voice carried the melody. She moved like a blossom on a soft, slow breeze, her hands gently waving across the air. Her expression was passionate. She seemed to be seeking something — something she wanted very dearly.
Again, Hamton found himself short of breath.
The ending was profound. Fifi held the note, sang the last few, and the violin concluded it all.
Applause followed immediately. Hamton stood up in his seat and began clapping so hard that his hands hurt. Buster and Shirley joined him, though with considerably milder cheers and shouts. Backstage, Babs, not caring that the applause was louder than it had been for her performance, clapped eagerly for her friend, whooping crazily. Even Plucky, who was open-mouthed and dumbfounded, couldn't keep his hands from clapping. There were whoops, wolf whistles, and "BRAVOS" everywhere; someone even threw a dollar or two. Onstage, Fifi, looking quite humble, smiled gently and curtsied.
When the applause finally started to die away, Buster made certain to stop Hamton's clapping, which did not die down with the rest. Buster caught hold of one wrist as it drew back, and Shirley, understanding Buster's intention, grabbed the other. Hamton seemed to awake from a fabulous dream and sat back down in his seat as the room went silent.
Up front, the judges gave their scores: Three perfect tens. Gogo, who was smiling broadly, showed his scorecard, which depicted, for whatever reason, a bullfighter.
"Wadies and gentleman, we have a winner!" Elmer Fudd announced, his voice sounding through the speakers. "First pwace goes to Fifi Wa Fume!"
The clapping resumed as Plucky, Calamity, Mary, Babs, and Elmyra (now held by a steel chain) walked back on the stage, congratulating Fifi on her performance. Plucky, Hamton noticed, did not look quite as happy as the others.
Bugs Bunny walked onto the stage and shook Fifi's hand. He handed her a white envelope, then walked forward to address the school. Elmer Fudd handed him the microphone and the audience went quiet.
"Thank you," said Bugs Bunny, the spotlight's beam shining down atop of him. "Thank you, for your applause and cheer. Thank you, staff, for helping to make this show happen. And, of course, thank you, our contenders." He smiled proudly at Fifi and the others. "This was a fantastic display from our students. It's inspiring to see that the talents at Acme Looniversity are as varied and surprising as those we have seen today. Please, if you will, one more round of applause for our six participants."
And they did, all of them. Hamton winced at how sensitive his palms had become. Thankfully, though, this applause did not last quite as long.
Bugs cleared his throat. "Now, before I let you all go and get into zany cartoon shenanigans — as is likely, despite our show having been long off the air — I have one last thing to say. And no," he smirked, "it has nothing to do with homework or the upcoming Cartoon Exams."
A few relieved exhales were heard all over the auditorium.
"As you all know," said Bugs, "from the snow we have outside and with today being the first of December, the holidays will be here soon and we, the school staff, have decided to put on a little celebration this year. We will be hosting a holiday party here at the school on December twenty-fourth. Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanza, or any other winter holiday, free to stop by and let your spirit show. Any and all are welcome to join the party. There'll be food, music, a gift exchange, and more, all in celebration of the best days of the year. So we hope you all join us to hang out, have fun, give well wishes, and all that warm fuzzy stuff."
There was a pause, and then Bugs concluded, "Just a little something for you all to think about. A plot device, one might say." He gave a wink to the reader, then said, "School dismissed."
***
Ha this is for the cafeteria scene about what Montana max said about fifi I thought of a great part you could add to it it has Hampton showing enough confidence to stand up like just watch this ( note a bit of the scene might have a bit of violence so if you're not ok with it you don't have to add it
( Montana max) hey skunk yeah you skunk I'm talking to you Do us all a favor and give a warning the next time you let one off! The food this dump serves is bad enough, we don't need you making us add our vomit to it!"
( hamton) ooooohhhh t that does it no one talks to fifi like that and it gets away with it* he said as he stormed over to Montana max *
( max) yeah what do you want you fatty pork swine
( hamton)* he then tackled max as he then punched him in the face giving him a black eye and started punching him right in the chest as he got in his face * now listen here just because you think you can act all high and mighty doesn't mean you get to be bully
( max) b but I
( hamton) no buts you should be ashamed of yourself for talking to a fifi like that and I do not I repeat I will not tolerate bullies who insult or hurt my friends now what do you have to say for yourself
( max) uhhh
( hamton) I said what do you have to say for yourself now do us a favor and get lost* he said as he kicked him out through the window