Chapter 5

When Oswald the Lucky Rabbit found himself with a heart, and because of that back in the ‘real’ world, he expected to have some problems adjusting to the 21st Century. Most of the time he expected the change. Heavy Metal Rock and Roll? He liked some of the Power Metal variety, although he’s mostly a jazz fan. Technological gadgets that borderline on what Yensid can do? First thing he did when he got his new house is get all three modern game systems and a computer for E-Mail and Letter writing. Drugs and Crime? Nothing new under the sun to him. A Black President? My, how things changed, too bad he found Barack Obama to be a bit inexperienced. Terrorism? Pshaw, the United States military may be eons advanced from the army he was used to, but they should go a couple rounds against the Phantom Blot and then come back to him.

It wasn’t until he went into a Starbucks for the first time that he was truly shocked.

And Mickey Mouse was there to see it first hand. “Ha ha ha,” Mickey said as he slapped Oswald’s back. “Welcome to the 21st Century, big brother.”

“F-Four bucks for a cup of coffee?!” was all Oswald could say when he looked at the menu.

“Those are just the espresso drinks, Ozzy,” Francie Cottontail said in consolation. “There’s the ones I lived through Med School on. Take three cups of coffee condensed into a shotglass, add steamed milk and your favorite toppings, and after slamming it down, you won’t blink for three days. Fortunately the brewed drinks are closer to your budget, hon.”

“I usually just stand there and look cute, and they give me a sample size,” Johnny said.

“Just my speed, um?”

“Oswald didn’t hear what The Kid said. He was too busy turning on the charm to the lady barista who scratched his chin. “My, Oswald, you sure wear your age well.”

“A lot better than my younger brother, afraid to say,” Oswald turned to Mickey with a sly grin. “Was that a grey hair on that arm you slapped my back with?”

Mickey, of course, steamed on that.

“Oswald!” Ortesnia said with a stern voice. “Could you pry yourself away from that barista so she can make a couple coffees, will ya? I think she’s one of Johnny’s girls anyways.”

Oswald rolled his eyes at Johnny, who was Starbucks literate enough to pick from the three kinds of normal coffee offered. It came from a decanter with several ceramic mugs with cream and three kinds of sugar.

“You’ll be surprised how many people are picky about their sweetener,” Amber said.

That reminded Ortesnia. “Ma’am, I hope you don’t have any of my kids wanting some coffee. They’re pretty much hyped up as normal.”

The barista shook her head. “We set up a water tank for them outside, keeps them from barging in. Did you know that some of them have those hydration backpacks?”

One of the larger ones was filling one just now.

Ortesnia shrugged. “Some of them are quite adventurous. I just tell them to watch out for cars, stay off freeways, and keep within the property boundaries. They usually don’t cause trouble.”

The barista had to ask. “How do you manage four hundred and eighty kids?”

“Don’t ask,” Ortesnia said as she returned to the iPod, she did a video search for Parkour and was playing it for the others in the table.

“This internet is pretty something when it’s good, isn’t it?” Ortesnia said.

“We might need to emphasize the three words, “when it’s good,” don’t we?” Francie said with a giggle.

“I take it you came back thanks to the internet too, did you, Fanny?” Amber asked.

Francie nodded. “Yeah, used to practice in the Wasteland, but I ‘fell’ under the same condition that fell Ozzy and Ortesnia,” she said. “It was only after contacting Yensid did we knew what happened. It seems that it’s spreading too, this modern technology is making forgotten characters remembered again. He’s monitoring it as we speak. Speaking of monitoring, have you seen some parts of the Net?”

“What parts, Fanny,” Ortesnia asked.

“We all have fan groups already,” Francie added. “Even you Johnny.”

Johnny just smiled and straightened up. “Well, I do keep up with my ‘far-eeeks.’ That’s what I call them.”

“That term could be apt, JB.” Fanny said. “Did you hear about some of the arguments that go on over which one of us,” she pointed between herself and Ortesnia, “should be Oswald’s true love?”

Ortesnia eyes grew a bit wide. Oswald’s more so. “You’re not kidding?” Ortesnia said.

“Oh, I think I heard some of that,” Ortesnia said. “There are some stories fans made that put both of us completely out of character.”

“That bad?” Johnny asked.

“One of them made me into a vindictive rageaholic who is hell-sent on getting Oswald back from some Valley Girl version of Fanny here. If you know me enough, young man, you’ll know I’ll never get that violent.”

To that Francie had to say, “There was the time she had to defend her kids from that Jailer Pete, though.”

“He got in between a mother and her kittens,” Ortesnia said, “what else should I do?” She then went back to her half-drunk coffee. “They even had me teaming up with Mortimer. Ugh! What was the writer thinking?”

“About how you and me could make beautiful music together? Ha-cha-cha.”

All three girls slumped. They didn’t have to turn around to see who was behind them.
Amber didn’t say a thing. She just refilled her cup with the still-pipping hot coffee from the decanter and just threw it where she heard the voice from. Underhand.

Judging from Johnny and Oswald’s wince, she made her intended target: Between the chest and the insides of the thigh.

They could hear the scream over the “It’s a Small World” music.

“They weren’t kidding about coffee being that hot!” Oswald said.

“You’ve heard of that lawsuit already, then?” Johnny replied.

“And we’re drinking this?” Oswald said.

“That’s why I always put ice in it myself,” Johnny said.

“Heh, but I guess he won’t hit on anyone else again for today,” Oswald said. He winced again as he saw a doubled over Mortimer favoring the affected area.

“If it were only so simple,” Ortensia said.

Mortimer Mouse’s voice sounded more like his more famous rival. “You just up and threw it at me!” He wondered if it were steam or fried toon flesh he was seeing.

“Well, seeing that whenever you try to talk to me eventually ends up with something thrown at you,” Amber said. “I thought I’d bypass all the annoying talking and hitting on me and just cut to the chase.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Amber,” Mortimer siad. “I was talking to that hot-to-trot cat.”
Ortesnia just favored her head.

Mortimer tried standing up.

“And don’t start, Moritmer,” Johnny said. “You already look like you couldn’t wait to go to the bathroom.”

“One moment, then.” Mortimer said. He went outside.

Ortesnia and Fanny breathed a sigh of relief.

Mortimer returned with a fresh pair of slacks on.

“Don’t tell me he just switched pants right in Main Street.” Johnny muttered.

Mortimer than took a deep breath.

“Someone stop him!” Francie said. “He’s about to spurt out a mass of pick-up lines!”

Johnny and Oswald was on the move before the inhale was full. Oswald hopped up on Johnny’s shoulders as Johnny made sure he had a firm enough stance. Oswald then grabbed Mortimer’s snout and clamped his mouth shut.

“Not one word to my wife, buster, or you’ll have worse things than hot coffee between your…”

“What is the matter here?!”

Johnny had to blink at the Cop Pete that showed up at the front door. “Another Pete?”

Mortimer tried to say something to Pete but Oswald was still holding on.

“Will you kindly let go, Oswald,” Pete asked. “He’s trying to talk to me and you’re annoying him, see?”

“I’ll let go as soon as Morimer turns back to Johnny.” Oswald replied. “Apparently you distracted The Kid and he forgot to let go of my feet.”

And indeed, Johnny still had a hold of Oswald’s feet on his shoulders. The rest of Oswald was hanging off Mortimer’s face when he turned around.

“That’s right, Mortimer, turn back around, that’s it” Oswald had to guide the larger rodent back to where Johnny was at so that Oswald can reclaim his feet. He then hopped down. “As a matter of fact, I’m glad you’re here. This man was annoying my wife and her friends.”

“One of them nearly singed off my…”

Oswald just hammer fisted Mortimer below the belt. “And he talks too loud.”

“And you just hit him in an ungeltmanly spot!” Cop Pete said as he grabbed Oswald by the neck, making sure that he got all of him. “And in a restaurant to boot, did you? That sort of thing would get you noticed over at The Blaze, but we don’t take kindly on that kind of activity here in Celebration, See?! I’m taking you in.”

“Under what jurisdiction., Mister?”

Cop Pete turned around to find who was yelling at him.

“Last time I checked,” Mickey Mouse said. “The Amusement Park Division has Celebration under it’s beat. And I doubt they’d hire you.”

“Yeah,” Minnie said. “That floosie vixen would have you for lunch.” Her lips curled at the thought of mentioning OCP-APD’s top cop.

Cop Pete just growled.

“But you’re right about not wanting a fight inside a Starbucks!” Mickey said as he pointed toward the lawn. “Let’s take it outside!”

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.  

Chapter 2

The cool Floridian night air does a lot to clear someone’s head, especially when you’re two foot five, 30 pounds and have to deal with a stomach full of 2 proof rum and fruit juices. And when you have those stats, like Johnny Briz, even 2 proof–1% Alcohol–will give a good enough buzz.

Johnny was grateful for one thing, though: Johnny can still run a straight line. Or as straight as possible while he’s weaving back and forth around trash canisters. Along the way, he switched his white gloves to the fingerless version for better grip. Needed to scale a cement block wall surrounding the storage facility next to the Magic Kingdom.

He paused on the styled and smooth cap on top of this wall. Sitting on his haunches, and then balancing himself on his hands, he surveyed the area. His nose couldn’t pick up any other people around the building for as far as he can see. His eyes scan around for a path to get inside. He found one he liked.

He made a smooth transition to a standing base, and the leapt for a nearby tree. He swung under a branch, jumped to another branch. He swung back to get enough distance to leap over to the air conditioner on the ground. Rolled through the landing. Kick jump back up and grabbed a storm drain to climb up to the roof.

Cool Floridian night air really does a lot of clear Johnny’s head.

And his size is advantageous for sneaking into buildings, such as the more modern storage buildings surrounding Disney Parks. They’re designed to be green, with plenty of skylights to reduce the need for those spiral light bulbs. Ceiling fans circulate the fans so that the air conditioner Johnny just rolled over won’t be overtaxed in the noonday sun. And there’s vents that can be easily opened by a switch. Or a clever mouse with a horseshoe magnet and a spool of 100-pound test fishing line always on hand.

Rappelling down the ceiling vent and onto the storage bins, Johnny looked around the storage area and found the tiki torches, all resting in a bin in a corner. There were three dozen of them set apart in another bin with a sign wired over the front. ‘Looks like they’re about to discard those torches. And I assume that they have expiration dates and all.’

Johnny’s convinced that those torches are still good.

And if a human pitched something that he can still use, it doesn’t count as stealing.

In Johnny’s mind, those three dozen torches were fair game.

As he dropped his way level by level down the storage shelves to the ground, however, Johnny found out that he was fair game as well.

Three levels to the ground, he felt himself stop in mid-drop, and a powerful hand grabbing him from the back collar. His field of vision shifted right to reveal the face of…

“Ah, if it isn’t Peg Leg Pete as I live and breathe,” Johnny said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

What the Security Uniform clad Pete did shocked Johnny, he showed both his hands. He wasn’t the one grabbing him.

“Sorry pal,” the voice said from behind Johnny’s head. “You were talking to the wrong Pete, see?”

Johnny did his best to turn his head to see who was behind him.

What he saw surprised him. Or at least the part of Pete’s artificial leg he did manage to see.

“All right Pegleg, I’ll bite,” Johnny said. “How many Petes are there?”

“Enough Petes to keep you corralled, you Tigger-blood infused rabble rouser.” Security Guard Pete bellowed with a similar voice, as he took Johnny from the other Pete.

“That’s Tiger blood,” Johnny replied. “Tigger’s only skin and bone, believe me, I checked.”

Pegleg snorted. “I’ve been doing some checking of my own, see? I overheard that you were planning to snatch those Tiki Torches, and lo and behold, you came dropping in here like your usual Mouse Prince of Persia.” He then turned to Johnny snout to snout. “And we caught you red-handed, see?”

“First, you can’t be sure I’m going for those particular torches,” Johnny said, and then looked at Pete’s hands. He even managed to snag one of them. “And Second, you didn’t cat me red handed. These gloves are still white.”

Pete had to look at the palms of his hands to see for himself. “Oh, you might be right about that.”

But that was all Johnny can hear before his vision blurred again.

“You young punk!” Security Guard Pete said as he threw Johnny across a hallway.

“Don’t, Stupid!” Peg Leg Pete shouted. “He’s like a cat! I wasn’t kidding about the Prince…of…Per…”

Peg Leg saw Johnny use the momentum of the throw to wall run across several storage boxes, slide jump across the alley to an empty space, vault across cat-style and land on the ground at a running clip.

“How’d…he…do?” Security Guard Pete said pointing to where Johnny was.

Only to get smacked by Peg Leg Pete. “You Idjit! Did I just told you he’s got all those tricks.” He then shoved him to one alley and went down another. “Find him!”

Johnny was already at the other side of the facility, next to the refrigerated section. He knew he couldn’t carry all those torches and lose those Petes.

How many of them are there?!

He had to distract them somehow.

He slipped into the refrigerated section. There was two exits covered by plastic sheets which proved effective in keeping the walk-in fridge cold. He could see the plush toys in the next area at the far end.

He also saw a bunch of tomatoes marked “Over-Ripe! Do Not Use.”

Johnny took one.

He climbed up to a third opening, a steel door panel used to slide trays across to a waiting cart to send to all those in-park kitchens. He peeked out and whistled.

Right at Peg Leg Pete.

“There you are, you young punk!” Pete said, charging into the steel door panel. Right hand first.

Johnny ducked, but as he did, he tossed the tomato in the air.

Pete’s hand grabbed the tomato.

“I got you now, you little…”

He squeezed.

SPLURT!

“Now you can catch me red handed,” Johnny said as he ran off across the refrigerator and into the stuffed toys, especially the overflowing supply of…

“Duffys,” Johnny mused. “They always give me the creeps.”

Off in the distance, he heard one Pete screech, “YOU KILLED HIM?!?!” at the other.

“He’s also giving me an idea.” He looked around to find exactly what he needed, finding several outfits and accessories and even some other stuffed toys that he could cannibalize for his plan.

When his eyes fell on some toys for the upcoming Circus area…

They’ve already got toys ready? They’ve just broke ground on the tents…

…his plan was full and complete. He reached for his pocket knife, giving an evil grin at the two Petes at the other side of the refrigerator.

Two Petes that were wailing on each other as they went through the Kübler-Ross Stages of Grief.

Denial: “No Way you could kill him!” “His neck couldn’t be that scrawny!”

Anger: “How could you do this, you Idjit!” “Are you accusing me of killing him?!”

Bargaining: “How are you going to explain this to Amber?!” “Oswald’s gonna skin you alive! Yeah, you! Not me! I wasn’t caught red handed!”

Depression: No quotes, they were reduced to blubbering and weeping sacks of tears and bruises.

They never got to Acceptance.

“Guys, you do know it was a tomato, right?”

They were still crying for five seconds.

Johnny didn’t know it was because of the presumed murder or by the Ultra Combos they were putting on each other. Either way, it looked pathetic, and he showed it when they finally looked up.

“I am disappoint.” Johnny said as he closed the door panel.

The two Petes looked at each other.

Then at the door.

Then at each other.

Then at the door.

Then at each other.

Then they rushed under the plastic flap, or rather struggle under the plastic flap as they tried to squeeze their way through the door at the same time. “Wait. Til. I. Get. My. Hands. On. Once I can see first.”

What they saw when they got the plastic flap away from their eyes was something they regretted seeing:

A plush Duffy was sitting on a rolling tray. Dressed like Chucky from Child’s Play. Knife and all.

“Hi! I’m Duffy! Wanna play?!”

That was Johnny holding his nose and throwing his voice. It worked too well.

At least according to the girly screams from both Petes.

And what Johnny did next as the topper didn’t help matters: He was on the top ledge above the tomatoes, which he placed just off the edge of the table leading to the door panel.

He jumped at the part that was just beyond the ledge, causing the rest of the tray, with the tomatoes at the far end, to flip over. Johnny found the cliff side of the table and leaped away before the tray would hit him. He bounced off one of the Petes’ tummy (which one he didn’t cared) and spun away through the plastic tarp.

By the time he was rolling at the landing, he could hear the tomatoes pelting the two Petes.

Followed by a couple of louder thuds.

Johnny wiped his gloved hands as he saw the two unconscious petes: having been fainted by the mass of tomato pulp on them.

By the time the two Petes were found, and reassured that they were still alive, Johnny was already gone, carrying a bundle of torches on his back.

Now look, I don’t have any qualms on any single human. Heck, on a person by person basis we’re on very friendly terms. You take one look at me and go all a-squee, pick me up and scritch me, and even take my picture. And I’m not complaining, I’m very photogenic, don’t mind getting hugged by children—Protip, try not to yank my tail, okay kids—and all the autographs I’ve written inspired me to make this blog in the first place. Oh, case by case, I have a ball.

But I’ve gotta tell ya. As a group, as a dominant species, humanity as a whole? You’re all fricking nuts!

You get into fights with the slightest provocation, toss away perfectly good stuff that is still usable, and it appears that some of you deliberately look for things to angst over.

Oh, the usual shipping debates don’t bother me none. I just laugh at the ones who wanted Fanny to be with Oswald and not with me. But it’s when you’re nitpicking over what’s going on in the parks, that’s where I have to raise my gloved paw and speak up.

Maybe it’s the way I’ve been raised, but you don’t see me angsting much. I grew up in an orphanage at the colony, who was run very well by a femme priest under a…well, I wouldn’t call it a religion, but I did do a little research and found that Miss. Shaw (that’s what I call her) practices something similar to your Buddhism, only with nautical imagery. You can find similarities in several basics: The Four Noble Truths, the Eightfold Path, the concept of Mindfulness, yada yada yada. If you wanted to know more about it, let me know. When you see me sitting down in a meditative pose somewhere in the parks, it’s that version of Buddhism in practice.

And the main point that I want to share with you here, when it comes to the changes in these parks, is that nothing is static. Everything has the capacity of change, and nothing will be the same at any two points of time, at times even between eye blinks. I think that Uncle Walt knew it as well with the line, “Disneyland will never be completed. It will continue to grow as long as there is imagination left in the world.”

I think it’ll apply just as well here in Disney World.

I’ve met with Imagineers during my times when Amber takes me backstage in the parks. Nice people once they stop looking for where she puts the batteries in me. They love to find ways to improve on these rides, to them ‘plussing’ is their very own drug. Heck, some of them even tried to plus me! I think I got these new frictionless sneakers by an Imagineer. And they’re always looking for ways to toss in new tech into the shows. Sometimes they work, sometimes they need work. And sometimes the person who designed it just needs help.

But to me it’s nothing for me to fret about. Everything changes, and part of me like to see the changes around me. And I hope these changes will be for the better. Or at least the improvements to the improvements are for the better.

Now that I said that, since some of the folks asked me oh so nicely, (Again, you humans are friendly one on one but totally insane as a group.) here’s my own thoughts on the current crop of improvements.

By far my biggest “What the Heck” moment would be the upcoming Circus area, where the Toontown fair used to be. Big question here: do people go to circuses nowadays? I keep hearing about this Ringling Brothers gig that’s still going about, I’m surprised that they still sell out in arenas. I’d rather see the Tea Party get doubled the way the Dumbo ride is, but that’s just me. Oh, and for the record, I’ve taken out five clowns so far in my dreams. I’ll keep a running total for you all on Twitter.

And while we’re talking about Toontown Fair, Mickey moving to his own place in Main Street is a good idea. He does know magic, and he’s even teaching me a few tricks. I’d like to see them improve on the LCD panels in the future. I heard that the Harry Potter place has better panels, but that’s in “The Place That Must Not Be Named©”

I’d just love to see how good they get that talking Mickey Mouse costume over time. A talking Mickey who knows your name as he does his illusions? That’ll be perfect for that theater place. And have the other costume characters talking as well would be a plus.

I wonder what they’d do to the second area once the Princesses get their places back? I hope it becomes an Oswald wing. And a kiosk on myself? That’ll be all I ask.

On queues. I don’t mind them tweaking at the queues, plenty of you humans need something to keep you busy when you’re standing in line. Believe me, some of you can get scary. However, I’d like to see them focus more on rides and attractions than queues. What they’re doing with the rest of Fantasyland? That’s much better to me.

Side note here: I’ve been contacted with some of the ghosts when I was meditating in Liberty Square, they want their headstones back where they were, guys. Some of them are a bit ticked off.

Here’s an idea they didn’t thought of: You’ve probably heard of David Foxfire. Yeah, that idiot. He’s the one who’s hosting my blog. When he says, “As Mousketeers go, I am Pure Evil,” he’s not kidding. He makes Captain Jack Sparrow look sane. Well, he has this idea on this thrill ride that would be perfect for where they’re putting the Circus tent. Consider it with me, people: A Peter Pan-themed flying coaster. How many of you took one look at these flying coasters and think “a Peter Pan theme would be perfect for such a ride.”

I could go on with the other parks, but those are just a few right on my head. Just some ideas on how the folks running the show can improve on things. And improve them I will while I sit back, eat my cheese and enjoy the world around me. Letting go of all that angst and enjoying the Magic for what it is can be a real uplifting experience. Some of you humans should try it.

A story by David Foxfire, based on a fictional version of the Walt Disney World resort, and is used for a parodial purpose.  The Walt Disney Company did not authorize or endorsed this story. Artwork by David Foxfire, colored by Rich Koster

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Chapter 1

It was evening time over at the Polynesian Resort, and most of the crowd there were adult humans looking for a break from their children to wind down from their exciting day on property, usually with the local drink, the pineapple contained Lapu Lapu.

One of the hula-skirted waitresses handed one to a tall table with something that looked like a stuffed rodent sitting in a tall chair and almost did a double take. Not because she thought she just served a stuffed animal. But rather finding out that the stuffed animal moved. The rodent looked up to her with bright green eyes and wiggled his nose. His ears unfurled into large pink dishes, one gray furred, the other black.

“You must be Johnny,” the waitress said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I’m with a friend,” Johnny said, his voice a more mellowed falsetto than Mickey’s. “So that’s a Lapu Lapu?” He leaned over to sniff at it.

“You want one?” the waitress asked. When she saw the nod, she lowered one of the marked pineapple jugs in front of him. “This one doesn’t have that much a kick, on me, little guy.”

The waitress scratched Johnny’s forehead, producing a soft churr, before she walked away.

The manager saw all that. “Janet, did you just give Johnny Briz a Lapu Lapu, he’s a little small for…”

“It’s one of the low alcohol ones, Phil,” Janet said as she passed by. “He won’t be flying about.”

And it was, according to Johnny’s nose. The combined aroma of Rum, Orange Juice, Sour Mix, and the actual pineapple shell was intoxicating to the mouse. (Someone commented how he got so big, he just looked toward the voice and go, “I got tiger blood in my veins,” and chuckled.) And he could smell the sting of the alcohol in the first drink, which wasn’t so pronounced in the second. This lack of sting, a burning sensation from the alcohol, caused Johnny to start sipping at the Lapu Lapu he was given. It proved as heavenly as it smelled.

Also by the small sips Johnny took through the straw, as he usually does, the managers knew they wouldn’t have a drunk off his tail mousie on their hands. Johnny Briz proved to be enough of a handful sober. But the question need be asked: Why is Johnny here, and what’s that regular Lapu Lapu for?

The answer arrived with a series of shocked gasps from the human guests. They had to qualify the populace with the word ‘human’ because the arrival didn’t look human at all. Careful eyed guests identified the white-furred creature passing them by as the Yeti from Animal Kingdom’s Everest coaster. But wasn’t that yeti a Code 101 for months now? (Code 101 being Castmember Speak for ‘out of order,’ a phrase some of the more regular guests sometimes use.)

The Yeti made his way to the tall table with Johnny. He looked at the mouse sipping at a pineapple of his own. “Johnny, is that Lapu Lapu the unleaded version?”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think I could take the one you’re drinking. It’ll burn my insides.”

The Yeti just stood up and took his pineapple in his large hand. “And here I thought you don’t want to get drunk.”

“Are you kidding?” Johnny said as he pointed at his drink. “With my size, I’ve only sipped a tenth of this one, and already I’m feeling a bit of a buzz.”

The Yeti snorted. “A little booze does do ya, don’t it, little fella?” He rubbed Johnny’s hair.

“Eh, comes with the territory.” Johnny said as he looked out.

He was always fascinated with the lights and the sights of the amusement parks around his quiet humble village in the protected glens on property. On a clear night, he can climb up to the tops of the trees and see three light shows surround him up there in the canopy. The Magic Kingdom to the North, Epcot to the East, and Hollywood Studios to the. All going out with fireworks, lazers, lights, and sounds. If a guest thought that the night shows Disney World makes is incredible, he or she should try seeing all three of them at once.

Johnny Briz experienced just that on a regular basis before he stumbled into that lab.

“I thought people will notice ya if you left your mountain by now,” Johnny said to the Yeti.

The Yeti just shook his head and sighed. “Wish that were the case. The animatronics has been 101ed since forever. I’ve contacted every manager I knew. I’ve even contacted Imagineering over at Callie, and no response. I’m at the point so that, next time Bob Iger is here, I’m stopping his car and speaking with him personally, even if I have to be in the middle of traffic.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Johnny said. “You ask me, it’s this economy, or whatever they call it.” He sipped at his Lapu Lapu. He turned to one side and saw the captivating flames from the torches. “I have to admit that I don’t know everything about global finance and all. But from what I hear from Amber and her parents, everybody’s having tough times. If things weren’t so dire, as some called it, your animatronics would have been fixed by now.”

“You’d think so?”

Johnny just shrugs. “I’m just guessing. It also explains some of the disrepair in some of the parks here. Some areas are getting rather drab and when I tell a CM about it backstage, they say it’s because money’s tight here as well.”

“Ah.”

“They just didn’t have the budget to get new stuff to renovate the parks.” Johnny concluded.

The Yeti looked over at the torches. He tilted his head wondering what makes them so entrancing to Johnny. It seems that he couldn’t pull himself away from the flickering lights.

“Say Johnny,” The Yeti said, getting Johnny’s attention. “There’s a lot of those torches in storage. About three thousands of them. I’m thinking three, six hundreds of them can really light up Adventureland. And the Polynesian won’t use them all before some idiot decides to just pitch them. Maybe you should play around with planting a couple of them in the park.”

Either it was the flames dancing in Johnny’s eyes, or the even minute amount of booze in his Lapu Lapu, but what The Yeti suggested sounded like a good idea. Even as a kit, Johnny knew how wasteful humans could be. The colony became one of the more technological advanced colonies in the animal kingdom because 99% of the items they picked up for the buildings, were perfectly good items that humans just up and discarded. A computer tower here, a repairable PSP there, several video screens rigged to become their version of Times Square. Even as current as last afternoon, Johnny was rummaging around the bins in Hollywood Studios, picking up still-working toys and props that Disney didn’t want anymore. It would be a shame to just let stuff be dumped to the trash before it was even used. And Polynesiann torches qualify as such.

“You know where this storage place is?” Johnny asked.

“I’ll take you there on my way back to my pad,” The Yeti said.

Johnny smiled, and then picked up his pineapple. “After we finish this off, that is.”

“Of course,” The Yeti said. “Let me get you a spoon to scrape out the insides, those are the best part.”

Chapter 4

Oswald scratched his head as he looked at the black tablet in his hand. To him an iPhone would be little more than a handheld monolith from 2001. “So, this is a phone?”

Ortensia nodded. “It’s a phone, a radio, a music and video player, and you can even play games on it.” She showed her hers. Both of them were given by Minnie earlier. “Flowers vs Zombies, my favorite.”

“Meh,” Johnny said, looking out the window of the light rail train. “They’re not so hot.”

“Speak for yourself, sweetie,” Ortensia said. “Where we were, we still had phones that weren’t even rotary; there was that crankshaft that you have to turn to call the operator.”

Johnny looked to Ortensia, gave a smile and snorted a little. “There’s this application called ‘Cheese Platter’ but when I downloaded it, there wasn’t any cheese. It was just shapes you can move around on the tablet.”

Ortensia raised an eyebrow. “Aaaaaah.”

“So they can’t make food appear,” Oswald said. “Important thing to know about these things.”

“Tell me about it,” Amber said. “I had to stop Johnny from going up Steve Jobs’ pant leg for that.”

Johnny has to nod to that. His eyes dart over to the window outside of the light rail train heading to Celebration. Unlike the Monorails that the guests use which by now connects all of the parks in the property, the Light Rail is used by the castmembers and the local people in the region, especially those in Celebration. The train is nearing Animal Kingdom now and Ortensia wondered why he’s got this expression. Then she remembered.

“Johnny,” she said, “Is this where that mouse village is at?”

Oswald looked over to her wife.

“Johnny was once a normal field mouse who lived in a forest around Animal Kingdom,” Ortensia said. “Am I right?”

“Actually the place is between Animal Kingdom and Epcot,” Johnny said, “but you’re right. It’s protected wilderness so they shouldn’t worry about it being paved over. We got a little worried when Eisner decided to build his zoo.”

“Minnie told me your story, about how you got here,” Ortesnia said. “About the experiments in the 40s evolved the mice there, about that experimental beam that made you toon sized. You must’ve had a very exciting life, young man.”

Johnny shrugged first, and then smiled at the cat. “What can I say, I wanted a life of adventure like Mickey and company had. Actually dropping into one, though, it’s another matter. But enough about me. There’s something that’s bugging me. How on earth did you and Oswald get out of this Wasteland place? From what I heard, you need a heart to get out of there.”

Oswald continued the thought. “And in order to have a heart to leave the wasteland, kid, you need to be remembered. And I have to admit that it was the utter shock of our lives to wake up one day to the sounds of our own heartbeats. And that’s when Master Yensid popped out of the mirror and explained things to us.”

“Or rather, I discovered the reason.” Ortesnia said as he lifted up her iPhone to show a screen of a Youtube search on ‘Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.’ “First thing I did when I saw Yensid’s computer is to do what you call ‘Googling’ for my husband. And lo and behold. Every cartoon was there. Every one of them. It was almost like we never left.”

“This internet thing pulled my cotton tail out of the mire!” Oswald said. “Everyone in the wasteland was getting their hearts back left and right, it was unbelievable! Even Yensid was surprised, and that’s something you just can’t do.”

Amber had to chuckle at that. “I heard about one guy who found a never fairy near death, so he thought he’d Google ‘Clap for Fairies’ with the pixie in front of the screen.”

“Did it work?” Ortesnia asked.

“Ever seen those electric paddles you use to shock a heart back beating?” Amber waited for the nod. “Imaging using a lightning bolt as a defibrillator, that’s what the results were.”

As Ortesnia looked over at Oswald with an expression of utter awe, the train slowed down.

“Here we are, guys,” Amber said. “Celebration Station.”

Johnny kept the door to the train open—never mind that the door automatically did so—to let out Oswald and Ortesnia—and then did a little weaving around the two, causing Oswald to spin from the torso up, and then bounded on top of a railing, hopping over benches and trash cans. Oswald had to run to catch up. “Hey, wait up, Kid. How’d ya do that?!”

“There he goes again,” Ortesnia said. “Amber, does Johnny always do that?”

“That’s parkour for you,” Amber said with a nod. “Look it up, you’ll find a lot of videos.”

“Maybe once I get out of traffic first.” Ortesnia said as she made her way along the crowd, some of them even greeted the ‘new’ character that appeared in front of them. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you too, my dear. Yes, they warned me about Johnny, heh heh heh. My husband’s out there with him now trying to get him into line. Oh, we’ve just moved in last night. If you search Youtube for us, you’ll find out why we—FRANCIE!”

She almost didn’t catch the black-ink rabbit in a nurse’s frock coming toward her. “Ortesnia! You’re here!”

The two embrace almost like sisters.

“How’d you get out here, Fanny?” Ortesnia asked.

“Well, I really lucked out today, hon,” Francie. “I’ve got hired to be an assistant for a local vet. Yes, I know my medical education is mostly for more sentient folk, but with this economy, you take what you get.”

“That vet,” Amber said as she came up to them. “That wouldn’t be Terry Merichello, by any chance.”

Francie took one look at Amber, and the recognition of her in a Mouseketeer outfit doubled the bright smile she had. “You must be Amber. Your mother told me all about you and Johnny. But I met him earlier; had to patch up his forehead after taking one of Donald’s elbows. Should’ve warned the mousie about him.”

“Oh, Johnny knew what he was getting into,” Amber said. “It’s getting out of things that’s the problem.”

The three laughed at that.

“So anyway, how’d you get the job, Fanny?” Amber said.

“Well, she wanted to help me bring Ozzy and Ortesnia’s kids over here so they have someplace new to play in.” Fanny said, and then blew an imaginary lock of hair back into place. “All 480 of them.”

The pair waited for the number to register in Amber’s brain.

Ortesnia made sure that the Mouseketeer was looking at her in utter shock to say, “Not all at once, dear! We spent eighty years in the Wasteland, that’s plenty of time to…” she then blushed. “You know.”

She paused just a moment to shoot a stern glance at someone who shouted out “Rule 34!” to her.

But that was enough for Amber to ask, “Are they all here?”

Amber got her answer from a sound of a stampede and a panicked Johnny: “Ohmygosh! Zerg Rush!”

She managed to run on ahead to see Johnny about to be swallowed up by what looks like a tsunami of blue fur.

The impact made her wince.

Ortesnia just sighed. “Better break out the first aid kit, Fanny. Johnny might need patching up again.”

“Right,” Francie said as she made it materialize out of thin air.

“Hahahaha!” was all Ozzy could say. “I don’t know what you mean by Zerg Rush, but I think my kids are the masters of it.” He then turned to the three girls. “Hey ladies, I learn something new every minute nowadays!”

This story ported from the Disney Echo.

Story by David Foxfire; Artwork by David Foxfire, colored by Rich Koster

Chapter 3

Mickey got the rest of his Tuxedo back on and stopped Amber on the way to getting back to meeting and greeting guests.  Amber was trying out a custom outfit that someone made for her overnight, based on a classic Mouseketeer costume.  “Hiya, Amber.  Hey, there’s something I wanted to tell you, as a head’s up.”

“Sure thing, Mickey,” Amber said.  “It’s about Oswald isn’t it?”

Mickey looked around.

“He’s talking with Johnny now, probably bringing him up to speed.”

“Ah, in that case, I can warn you without getting him mad:  I know you’d like to show him around and stuff, but don’t go near Universal Studios or even mention that company to him.  For obvious reasons.”

Amber’s mouth didn’t have time for her brain to catch up.  “Universal, why would he be upset about…”

And then she remembered.

“Oh, right.”

Meanwhile, Oswald was telling Johnny the story behind that studios himself.

“Man,” Johnny said.  “Sounds like a bunch of corporate lawyers suing a little girl.  Darn, Ozzy, that’s way harsh, what happened to you.”

Oswald showed a somber expression.  “Yeah, I know, Kid.  If it weren’t for those jerks, all this you see around you would have started with me, instead of Mickey.”  He shook his head.  “Just because a committee at Universal thought they could do Walt’s Job.”

“Yeah, I’d understand if you’re a little peeved off at your younger brother.”

Oswald’s expression brightened up a bit.  “Me mad at Mickey?  Nah.  Not anymore, once I was brought up to speed.  Oh, sure, I might be jealous over the limelight he’s getting, but it’s not his fault.  Besides, he’s helping me get back into the swing of things.  Can’t be mad at a fella who’s isn’t afraid to share the limelight.”

He then pointed to Johnny, “Say, kid.  Mickey’s been telling me about ya, budding action star, wall-crawling, bouncing off the poles and everything.  You and me, we’ve got the same goal.  Maybe we could be partners.”

Johnny blinked a couple times, smiled a bit, but then let his jaw hang.  “Me?  Team up with you?  S-shure.”

Then there was another squeaky voice from the hallway outside.  “I dub thee worthy, young knave. Don’t bother kneeling.  Huh-hah.”

Oswald just shook his head.  “He’s going to need my help, Mick, if he’s ever going to beat you.” He then chuckled as he approached Johnny.  “I like you already, kid. Put ‘er there.”

Oswald held out his hand, but Johnny held out a fist.  Actual Question Marks appeared over Oswald’s head.

“Oops,” Johnny said, “You don’t know about Fist Bumps.  Just a light enough tap on the knuckles here.”

“Heh, I learn something new every day,” Oswald said.

Johnny just chuckled.  “Wait til you find out where the Devil Horns and the Ozzy Chants people’ll be giving you come from.”

Almost as if on cue, a passing supplier CM walked by seeing the Lucky Rabbit.  He made a hand sign showing his forefinger and little finger and went, “Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy…Go easy on JB, Oz.”

Oswald made a hesitant attempt at repeating the hand sign.  He turned to Johnny.  “Am I doing it right?”

“You need to thrust it up in the air,” Johnny said, showing the proper way, “go with gusto and all that.”

“Looks like some wacko alien greeting or something,” Oswald said.  He shrugged.  “Guess how much I need to adjust to.”

“Good thing for you ya got me as a guide,” Johnny said.

Amber walked out of the dressing room before her mouse friend and returned rabbit, all decked out in a modified Mouseketeer outfit, her name in bold letters over an electric blue skirt, light blue socks—which go up to Grade A Zettai Ryouiki levels—and shiny black shoes, plus a bow in her hair.

Johnny always had a smile for that outfit.

Oswald had to hop closer to Amber to get a closer look.  “So this is the Mouseketeer outfit that Mickey always talked about.”

“It’s quite authentic, if I say so, I also customized it a little.” Amber said, as she spun around to give Oswald a look at a bow on the back of the skirt.  “Mickey said it’s a lot better modernization than the two other clubs that followed the classic version.  I think you’d like the extra add-on, Ozzy.”

In mid spin, she snatched a vest to slip on over the shirt.  There was a patch where someone could put on a “Mickey Mouse Club” insignia, but Ozzy found that the vest was reversible as well as had a patch on each:  One side had an embroidered patch with Johnny on it.  But the side Amber showed had a Team Oswald Patch, which had the Rabbit instead of Mickey on the insignia.

“Oh, shucks,” Oswald said.  “Yer buttering me up, you really are.”  He then shouted down a hall.   “Hey, Mickey!  Get this, bro.  I’m actually getting…”

He then paused.

“Er…”

He then turned back to Amber.

“What can I call my version of a Mouseketeer?  And how can a human make a sweat drop that big?”

“Happens to me all the time,” Johnny said on the side.  “It’s missing something though.”

“Yer right, kid,” Oswald said, tapping his nose.  “But I also need to get my version of mouse ears.  I don’t think they make them yet.”

“Would you believe that some of the characters here voted against Mouse Ears for Amber?”  Johnny said.  “Especially, Ariel.”

“It’s the hairstyle,” Amber said, flicking at the curved tip at top.

“Hmmm.”  Oswald tapped his foot.  “Y’know, I think it would be better if you have something more you in that get-up.  You said you wanted to be an animator.  Let’s find something animatorly.  I’m sure there’s a souvenir shop somewhere in this place, come with me.”

And with that, Oswald just waddled out into the top floor of the Magic Kingdom.

“Wait for me,” Johnny said as he gave chase.

“Boy, did I ask for this or what?”  Amber said, but then shrugged and ran after the two.

Oswald bounded over the bushes and into the public, easy to do with his rabbits feet.  He flashed a smile when someone called him by name, happy as ever to have people know him.  Even if it involves chanting his nickname and showing that strange index and pinkie salute.  Whatever that was, he was sure Johnny’ll clue him in.  He’s more used to the modern day.  Speaking of The Kid, where is he, oh yeah here he comes.

Johnny wasn’t too far behind, vaulting over the same bush and leaping over light poles to catch up, with an occasional “Excuse me, pardon me, hope I didn’t run up your pant leg.”  Amber was appearing behind him, looking like one of those Castmember Handlers that were supposed to watch after the characters.  And not having an easy time at it, poor girl.

That was when Oswald heard a gasp.

He turned to see Minnie Mouse, favoring her forehead.  “Ah, Minnie, something wrong, need an aspirin or something?  Got the flu?  Oh dear what would–”

Minnie placed a hand on Oswald’s shoulder.  “It’s not that Oswald, it’s just that I got an image of the proverbial blind leading the blind here.”

And with that, Johnny put one hand over his eyes and pretended to tap a cane around.

“That’s right, Jonathan!”  Minnie said, pointing to the young field mouse.  “I’m talking about you,” then she pointed to Oswald, “with him.  I know Mickey wanted to get Ozzy here up to speed after all that time in the Wasteland, but teaming up with you gets me worried.”

“Minnie,” Johnny said, “I might be an adolescent, but I’m not entirely clueless.”

“I’m referring to some of the stuff you’re used to, Johnny,” Minnie said.  “Video Games, Mixed Martial Arts, Rock and Roll?  YouTube?  Some of the stuff you know about would just melt Ozzy’s ears off.”

And with that, there were a couple of thuds to Minnie’s right.

She didn’t even look.  She just said, “Would you kindly put your ears back on, Oswald?”

“Ulp!”  Oswald acted as if he didn’t notice that his ears had actually broken off his body and fallen onto the lawn until Minnie reminded him.  “It happened again?  You’ve gotta excuse me.”  He picked up his loose ears and fumbled through reattaching them.

Amber didn’t know if she remembered that part about Mickey’s older brother, but she did put up a good act.  “Oh my goodness,” she said as she hovered next to Oswald and his ears.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!”  Oswald was doing his best to put people’s fears to rest.  “Most of my body’s detachable by design.  I do it all the time.  Look.”  He put one of his long ears back in place and it wiggled.  “Good as new.  As long as I keep track of where my parts are there’s no worries.”

To further illustrate the fact, Oswald snapped off one of his feet, kissed it, and rubbed it on Amber’s head.  “You could use some good luck there, Amber.  I’ve got tons of that.”

“Hey, watch it, pal!  You don’t know where that foot’s been.” That came from the other side of the grassy field in a gravel-like and unmistakable voice.

“Pluto’s been laying land mines again, see?” Pete (in a security uniform) said as he walked through the crowd in his typical tough guy gait.  His left leg tapped the stone border with an audible clack, announcing to the world where the peg leg is.

Johnny put his hands on his hips and bristled his fur for all it’s worth.  “Well, if we in fact did step in Pluto Doo, that only means that someone in this park’s already fired isn’t it?”

“How did he get out of the Wasteland?”  Oswald said pointing to Pete.

“Oh,” Amber just shrugged.  “He’s been here for quite a while already.”

“What’s Yensid doing to my side of the tracks, dumping hearts to anyone within arm’s reach?”

Pete just hovered over the young field mouse.  “From what I hear, there’s a plan of someone looking for a five finger discount.”  He then snatched Johnny by the shirt collar and hoisted him up to his eye level.  “It wouldn’t've be you, by any chance?”

That only got him an off-speed kick to the jaw.  A warning shot.  “Knock off that crap, Pegs.  You know I don’t do that stuff, I have a decent bank account at Scrooge’s Credit Union.”

That caused someone in the back to wonder.  “You’ve got a bank and a credit union?”

That person was talking to Scrooge McDuck at the time.  “Aye that I do.  Used t’be a Savings and Loan, but all those scandals o’ these last years, I had t’ change the format.  Good thing too; it be the only bank in Duckburg that stayed afloat.”

“You’ve got a bank account!?”  Pete said as he looked Johnny over, “Hah Hah hah!  That’s a good one.  You don’t look like someone who’ll keep a job.  You just ain’t the respectable kind.”  He then looked at Oswald as he got everything back together.  “Or is it the company you keep, right, Ozzy?”

And with that, Pete threw Johnny right at the returning cartoon character.  Oswald pretty much shattered on impact, with his head, and all four limbs remaining stationary while Johnny took out the torso.

“Dang Nabbit!” Oswald’s head said as that body part landed in Amber’s arms.  “I hate it when this happens!!”  His arms tended to flop around while the legs just walked aimlessly.  He did his best to look back to where Johnny landed, with a roll to cushion the impact.  “Are you all right, kid?”

“I’m all right,” Johnny said, thrusting up a slip of paper in his own–and still attached–hand.  “I don’t know about Petey Boy here, though.”

Nobody heard that remark, because the crowd was watching an indigo-ink cat toon walk into the scene, with a softer version of Minnie’s voice.  “Oh my goodness, young man, are you all right…and what’s this slip of paper all about?”

Meanwhile, Pete was eyeballing Amber.  “Whoa!  Someone just plussed throwback week.  How’ya doin, toots?”  He said, giving her an unwanted wink.  Or was that because of a wayward drop of sweat.  “Man, thin fabric or not, how do you Mouseketeers handle those sweaters?  It’s almost eighty degrees in the winter, jeez.”

Just then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief…with a price tag still attached to it.

And a couple of other security guards, each of them twice the muscle head of Pete, saw it.

“Hey Hey Hey, chill out guys,” Pete said as he raised his hands.  “I got the receipt for this…right here…or is it here…”  He tried to look for the receipt, digging through pocket after pocket in his outfit, until he gets knocked down.  “Hey!  I have it!  I have it!  Give me some…YOU!”  He pointed to a smiling Johnny.  “You’ve got it!  Give it back!  Come on pal.  You know how these security thugs can get!”

“He’s got a point there, Mister,” the lady cat told the young mouse.  “You better return that to him, or he’ll get arrested.  Now if you excuse me.”  She picked up Oswald’s torso.  “I have to reassemble my honey bunny.”

Johnny got up, sighed, shrugged, and then bounded over to the tackled down Pete.

“That’s right, pal.  Give it back to me, please.  I’ll buy you that hat for your lovely lady, ‘kay.”

Johnny just hopped up on top of Pete’s back, reached into the pants behind Pete’s back and pulled up Pete’s

“MY EYES!!!”

The look on Pete’s face was priceless.

So was Oswald’s and his cat friend’s.

“Ortensia,” Oswald said.  “It’s-it’s a thong!”

Ortensia, the cat, just shook her head.  “What kind of a man wears a thong?!”

That only got some concerned looks by some of the castmembers.

Oswald just muttered about sights he’d rather not see, while Johnny talked about his poor burning retinas.  Then Oswald thought of an idea of getting Pete back for this injury:  he took the jockstrap and pulled it out further.  Just enough for Johnny to slip the receipt under the underwear, which was his intention in the first place.

Oswald released the jockstrap, which produced a echoing *snap!*

“Ow Owowow!” Pete complained, still on the ground, still pinned by the two security thugs.  “I’ll get you for this, Johnny Briz!”  He then lowered his head to mutter to the guards.  “Just get me outta here so I can properly die of embarrassment, will ya?”  He managed to belt out a “Young Punk,” to Johnny as he was carried away.

“A young punk?”  Johnny said, feigning shock.  “The nerve of that guy.”

“You do have some of the image, I have to say,” Ortensia said to Johnny as she approached him and Oswald.  “But from what I’ve heard, you seem all right.  Johnny Briz, is it?”

Johnny smiled.  “You heard of me right.  And you are?”

She made a curtsy with her skirt.  She looked as much modernized as Oswald, with a skintoned face, gloves and heeled shoes.  She also had on a Popcap T-shirt and a hat that had one of those Sunflowers from ‘Flowers vs Zombies’ on it.  “Ortensia, Oswald’s beloved wife of…er, that would be showing my age, would it?  I feel so younger now that I got my heart back I end up a little shy about how old I am.”

“That’s quite all right,” Johnny said, making an tip of his invisible hat.  “Er, my mouse ears are kinda attached pretty tight.”

“Oh!” Ortensia remembered.  “You two live in Celebration, right?  We just moved there ourselves.  We’re wondering if you could join us for a housewarming party tonight.”

“That’s terrific,” Amber said. “We can show you around the place in the meantime.”

“That’s great, Amber.  Oh, by the way, like the outfit.  Missing something though.”  She turned to Oswald.  “Do they make…”

And that’s when Ortensia froze, and froze as in frozen solid.  She actually shuddered.

“What’s wrong, love?”  Oswald said, showing a bit of concern.

Johnny slapped his forehead.  “Let me guess, you Googled Bunny Ears.”

“Let’s just say,” Ortensia said, once she got her voice back, “that there are some parts of this Internet thing I don’t want children to see.”  She looked back to Amber.  “You’re perfectly fine with that bow on your head, young lady.  Now then, think you can show my husband and me around your hometown?”

“That’s just what I was planning to do,” Amber said with a smile, as she guided the three of them out the front gates.

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This story ported from the Disney Echo.

Story by David Foxfire; Artwork by David Foxfire, colored by Rich Koster

Chapter 2

While Amber was finding out about Oswald’s return—and scoring points by knowing about Oswald in the first place, Johnny has just met him for the first time.

It was Oswald’s nose that peeked out to sniff the snacks laid out in the green room, the room Johnny was in, who was sniffing at the newcomer as well.

Then the rest of the Lucky Rabbit joined his nose, all two foot ten of him—including his long ears—all black and white save for his blue shorts. Little was added to the long-forgotten character save for the modern eyes. But to Johnny, who’s nose just twitched as he said “Hi there, guess you’re new too,” he was indeed as young and green as he was.

Oswald, being older than Mickey of course, didn’t know what to think of that remark. He just humphed.

Johnny humphed back.

Oswald shrunk a bit, Johnny followed suit.

This lead up to a series of Oswald and Johnny trading up sillier and sillier poses, each one trying to out-do the other. Eventually, they both lost their balance and hit the floor at the same time.

Oswald was the first to smile after that. “Looks like you’re pretty much all right too. Name’s Oswald, what’s ya name, kid?”

“Johnny Briz,” Johnny said as he shook his hand. Or rather, Oswald shook his.

“You’re that guy who’s been bounding around that Celebration place like a high-bounce ball?” Oswald said. “Mickey told me about you.” He then scratched his head. “Or is it he warned me about you?”

Johnny just waved his hand, “Oh, pshaw. I haven’t done anything Mickey himself hadn’t done in his prime.”

Oswald just smiled. “I like you already kid…and we’re just talking about ya, little brother.”

Johnny blinked, and then tilted his head to see around Oswald.

It was Mickey, of course, in the longer version of his red shorts with a collared shirt. It looks like he had his tuxedo on but took part of it off. Johnny could smell smoke coming out of Mickey’s ears. It also looks like he didn’t take the “in his prime” bit too well.

“Well, hiya, Mickey,” Johnny said, with a smile. “You have my condolences.”

That caused Mickey to blink. “How so?”

Oswald turned around with a sly grin. “You haveta put up with both of us.”

Mickey had to smile at that, as he rubbed his head. “I heard you were here, Johnny. Had to check up with you after your sparring this morning. Donald felt bad after the little mishap.”

Oswald wanted to hear this, especially when Johnny pointed to that band-aid that was on his forehead that the rabbit didn’t notice before.

“Oh this?” Johnny said. “It’s not that bad now. We were just sparring and Donald landed a lucky elbow. It wasn’t that much once they got all the blood wiped out. Didn’t even need stitches.”

Oswald was impressed. “Whoa? You took a lick from Mr. Rageaholic and just laughed it off? I’m really liking ya, Kid.”

“Oh! What do we have here?” A girlish voice said from the far door. “Is that Oswald?”

Johnny and Mickey recognized it as Amber, but Oswald just took one look at who entered the room and went, “Hellloooo nurse.”

Mickey was already protesting. “Hold on there, Ozzy! That’s Johnny’s girl.”

But Amber was already stroking Oswald’s ear and causing his foot to thump. “The kid knows how to pick ‘im then.”

Mickey just sighs, shoves Oswald aside, much to his chagrin, and looks up to Amber. “Looks like you’re going to help my older brother get used to the 21^st century, Amber.”

Amber gives Mickey a scritch as well. “Yeah, Robbie gave me that suggestion.”

“Huh-ha,” Mickey said as he felt her fingers on his head. “Well, I hope he told you enough about my older brother. Not only does he have zero idea about the world today, being wherever he was all these eighty plus years, but he thinks that he could just waltz into here and just take over the top spot in the Magic Kingdom. Sure he’s older than me, and sure he was the big star in his short first career, but what does he know about what is humorous in this day and age. This isn’t the 1920s you know…he’s doing it again, isn’t he?”

What Mickey was referring to is Oswald, and what he was doing again is making faces behind his younger brother’s back, silently mocking him. And with perfect timing, Mickey turns around to see Oswald whistling and looking innocent, rocking on his large feet.

Amber couldn’t stop laughing.

Mickey couldn’t keep himself from sighing.

“Just keep him outta trouble, all right, Amber?” was all Mickey could ask.

Amber nods and returns to Oswald, who was getting high fived by Johnny. “Hey, wanna stop by our house over at Celebration? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Well, since you asked, I didn’t tell you yet,” Oswald answered, “but me and my family just moved in there. My lovely wife Ortensia and all 420 of my kids. We’re going to have a pizza party tonight to warm the house, and…what can I say, two more can’t hurt.”

“Ohmigosh,” Johnny said, in utter shock. “Four Hundred and Twenty kids? How do you deal with them all?!”

Oswald only grinned and chuckled as he led Johnny and Amber out the door, while Mickey just stood there and picked at what was left of the snacks.

There was a ring from Mickey’s iPhone, he answers it.

“Hello,” Mickey started, but then his eyes went wide for a moment. “Yessir…Oswald just left with Johnny. Yes, that one. Wha? When did you start…” He winced. “Okay okay…I’ll keep you posted…oh, you don’t need that…”

He then fell silent, whoever was at the other end made him a bit nervous. He flipped the iPhone over, sending it to speakerphone mode.

An ancient sounding voice was heard as Mickey switches to a web browser. He paged through some RSS feeds until he came to an article titled “Oswald the Lucky Rabbit newest toon heartthrob; Could mean Disneyfied Twilight Effect.”

“Having your older brother return to the real world will have unforeseen repercussions,” the voice said. “Repercussions that could put the world around us in. We must be vigilant if we are to weather this coming storm, not just for the general population of our Kingdom, but for others blazing their own world like Johnny. But I can guess, in quieter moments, you might have thought of it yourself.”

Whoever it was on the other end, he hung up at that point, leaving Mickey to just sigh again.

He slid the phone back to his pants and glanced over at the passing Bob Iger.

“Was that Yensid?” Bob asked. “How did he get a phone?”

Mickey shrugged. “He said something about Oswald stirring up something that he might not be able to deal with, or something like that.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Bob knelt down and scratched Mickey’s head. “You worry too much, pal. You’ve been nervous ever since Oswald returned.”

“Are you worried about the fast popularity he’s getting?” Mickey asked. “Not that I mind, Ozzy deserves some of the spotlight after all this time, but I’ve heard horror stories about how some of these fan groups can get.”

“A valid point,” Bob said. “Michael told me about some of the Rescue Rangers groups while he was CEO, and some of them weren’t pretty. And that was tame compared to the anime groups; God, I needed brain bleach.” He stood up. “I’m sure that they’ll be some action there, but it’ll blow over in time.”

“I hope you’re right, Bob,” Mickey said. “I hope you’re right.”

This story ported from the Disney Echo.

Chapter 1

“Thank you for letting me have a copy of Johnny’s health records, Amber,” Bob Iger said at a side office as he paged through the manila folder Amber Merichello gave him. “Nothing’s too much out of the ordinary. Johnny was originally a common field mouse residing on property, in that field Walt found. We later found out that the mice there were descendants of lab escapees.”

Amber nodded. “Yes, sir. My dad traced it to an experiment in UCF in regenerating brain tissue.” (UCF, being University of Central Florida.) “I heard that some of the interns there, as well as some Imagineers, monitor the colony.”

Iger just shrugged. “We just make sure the place isn’t paved over. The College kids just wanted to study on the rate of their biological evolution by descendants…” He picked up a form that showed red cell count in blood. “A-ha, here we are. This is the one I was looking for.”

“That’s the study my mother made when we first found him,” Amber said. “Does that have to do with the secret thing you wanted to talk to me about?”

“The same,” Bob said. “I trust you can keep it a secret.”

Amber nodded. “Johnny might talk of it, but it sounds too fantastic to be believed, shades of that ‘Honey I Shrunk the Kids’ movie.”

Bob continued. “But he doesn’t go into specifics.”

Amber shook her head. “He was too busy getting outta there.”

Bob chuckled. “Well, the movie reference isn’t too far from the truth.” He handed her a folder of his own. “The device Johnny mentioned is one of Imagineering’s more private efforts. It’s just like the film, it’s designed to expand and reduce the molecules of matter, causing them to shrink and grow. It’s basically made so that we can store and transport objects better, such as stage props or ride floats, or even company records. We have no intentions, emphasis added, to use it on living organisms, which is why Imagineering wanted those records. It’ll be part of the hazard precautions for the device once we really start using it.”

Amber mulled it over. “I agree with you about the no living part. Johnny was a bit touch and go for a bit. If he were much bigger he wouldn’t’ve survived it.”

Bob nodded. “Yes yes, that’s another reason why I want you to keep it a secret. I don’t want any uproars by it leaking.”

Amber just returned the file back to Bob. “Your secret’s safe with me, Mr. Iger. Besides, I’ll have my hands more or less full keeping up with Johnny.”

Bob laughed. “Especially with that Lifetime Pass I got him.” He shrugged. “He might not be from Disney, but he’s from this place, like it or not. I basically gave him the Kermit package. But that’s not what I also want to talk about. It’s about a new character of ours that’s an armful in his own right. Or at least, he’s new to us. He’s actually been around long before his younger and more famous brother…”

“Aaaaaah,” Johnny said as he arched back a bit He tried sitting in the side room where Amber put him so she could talk with Bobbie, but he was just too restless. “Bored bored bored bored. I hope Iger and Amber get done soon. Rather get chased by security than sit here in this dump.”

His ear twitched to pick up the sounds of a woman CM (Castmember) walking into the room on heels. She had a Barbie-like figure and had a business casual dress with a knee length skirt. She brought with her a large snack tray.

“Oh,” Cheryl said when she looked down, her name on her name-pin. “You must be Amber’s little friend. Johnny, right?”

Johnny just smiled as he looked up. He then blinked and looked around. “Well, I don’t think there’s any other large mice in the room. Must be talking about me.”

Cheryl beamed at him as she set the tray down. “I thought you might want to nibble on something. You might find another guest coming in a bit…”

Johnny sniffed at the cheese tray with bagels and cookies, while Cheryl pulled out four bottles of juice and two milks. “I’ll leave something for him.”

His cute smile proved infectious to Cheryl as she walked out of the room, but she was stopped a bit while she was down the hall. Johnny could hear her talking to someone, but his ears didn’t pick up any details since he was nibbling on a bagel. The other voice sounded like a toon voice, not unlike his own, but he couldn’t quite place the character.

He just shrugged and went back to his chair when he saw another nose poke into the room.

“And don’t ask me how on earth he’s still alive and frisky after all this time,” Bob said. “From what I heard, Yensid had a hand in it, and that wizard is more tight lipped than we should be.”

Amber blew up a lock of her Ariel-style hair. “So, how is Ozzy?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Bob said with a sigh. “When we got him back, I thought we could ease him into the Disney life like another character. But I didn’t count on him being wary of us corporate stiffs. Can’t say I blame him, after how Walt lost the bunny. We also worried about his relationship with Mickey.”

“From what I heard,” Amber said, “He’s got a bit of jealousy going on.”

“A bit?” Bob asked. “Some say Disney should have been the House of Rabbit, Amber. I wouldn’t fault Oswald one iota for his issues. But he seems to take it in stride, nowadays. He knows the truth about what happened in the 20s. He saves his sharp tongue for Universal. And he warmed up to not just Mickey, but the general populace as well. Especially with those who actually remember his classic cartoons.”

“Three cheers for YouTube,” Amber said.

Bob nodded. “Indeed. I can see that Ozzy wants a share of the spotlight, but he has to deal with having to adjust to the modern day. I don’t know where he was between then and now and I don’t think there was much for him to know about the outside world. I’d like to see him meet up with Johnny, maybe make friends, go on some adventures together. Maybe keep him out of trouble.”

Amber had to laugh. “Keeping out of trouble? Bob, Mickey would bail Oswald out of jail. Johnny Briz would be in the same cell with him. I speak from personal experience.”

Bob couldn’t help but laugh along. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Amber sighed. “Well, I suppose I can keep an eye on both of them. By the way, where’s Oswald now?”

“If I hear that commotion behind us right,” Bob said, “he might be meeting Johnny right now.”

Chapter 1 End.

As opposed to classic Disney Toons like Mickey and Oswald, who need some color in their outfits, including tuxedo, Johnny goes the opposite in his emulation of a Classic Black and White cartoon character, hence going the Johnny Cash mouse in black style. This goes especially true in his tuxedo.”