[...unWARP!!!]
Good evening.

PROLOGOS

This here is the continuation of the first ending of “Let's Suppose Chip And Dale Behaved Slightly Differently After The Kidnapping”, based on Roy Neal Grissom's “Consummation”. A continuation of the second ending will be coming later. Now, bring your mourning attire, because LAUGHTER is about to die in a certain home in New York City:

I would probably *also* rate this PG-13:

*******
“Changing your lifestyle can be hazardous to your health.” - The J.A.M.

Tress MacNeille Corey Burton Tress MacNeille Jim Cummings Corey Burton Deborah Walley

- witness the -

DEATH OF A COMEDIAN

- along with -

Peter Cullen Corey Burton Frank Welker Tara Charandoff B.J. Ward and Noelle North

- special appearances by-

Susan Blu and
Jackie Burroughs

Written by The J.A.M. (i_am_the_jam@hotmail.com)(but please call me J.A.M.)

Edited (well, proof-read, at least) by John W. Nowak, who was also kind enough to help me in my previous story. I neglected to name you there, so I'm naming you here now.

* To our beloved “Enduring Man-Child”, Roy Neal Grissom, without whom this story (and the previous one) would have never existed, and to Tom and Stacy, and George and Natasha. *

Please forgive the anachronisms, people:

*******

“Good-bye, my wife.”

“Good-bye, my beloved husband.”

I really want to see you.
I really want to touch you.
If only I could hold you
In-my-arms again.

I really want to reach you.
Forever to be with you.
If only I could hold you
In my arms agaiiiiiiin-

It was written in the stars,
On the pages of my heart.
Oh, that someday I would find
The love I feel for you-tonight.

On the ocean of our dreams,
Like a prayer you came to me.
And the longing that had been
Found its ending in-your-eyes,
And I am missing you tonight.

I really want to see you.
I really want to touch you.
If only I could hold you
In my arms again.

I really want to reach you.
Forever to be with you.
If only I could hold you
In my arms agaiiiiiiin-

Across the waves, across the sea
Separating you from me,
Here's a promise, and it's mine:
I will love you for-all-time,
I'm wishing you were here tonight.

I really want to see you.
I really want to touch you.
If only I could hold you
In my arms again.

I really want to reach you.
Forever to be with you.
If only I could hold you
In my aaaaaarms again-

I really want to see you!!
I really want to touch you!!
If only I could hold you
In my arms again!!

I really want to reach you!!
Forever to be with you!!
If only I could hold you
In my arms agaiiiiiiin---!!!!!!

IF ONLY I COULD SEE YOU!!!
IF ONLY, ONLY I COULD REACH YOU!!!
I WANNA HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS-
Again::::::::::::::

*******

HEIS - THE DAY LAUGHTER DIED

Chip awakened from another night's sleep. Or so he thought, for when he looked at the clock on the wall he saw that it was six o'clock in the *evening*.

*Odd. Why did I sleep so late?* he wondered. *Normally, only Dale sleeps in, but never _this_ far:* He got up and was about to shake Dale back into consciousness, but upon looking at the occupant on the top bunk, his sense of continuity was abruptly thrown out the window. He laid his ears back in confusion. *Cheddarhead? What's he doing in Dale's bed-*

It then all came back to him, much to his regret. Yesterday was the big day when Dale and Foxglove were to be married, only to be interrupted by Fat Cat kidnapping Foxy. Dale passed out, and they couldn't wait for him to wake up, so the Rangers left him here with all the parents that came for the wedding. Their attempt to rescue Foxglove from Fat Cat's lair went awry and they were in need of rescue themselves, but they were rescued by Dale, Midge, Otis, and several hundred other bats, and just in the nick of time, too. While the rescue had been successful, for some reason his best friend was behaving as if Foxglove had been killed. Then, at dinner, he suddenly broke down in tears and ran out the tree, with Foxglove following. He, too, was about to follow them, but Dale's father, Pierre, asked him to leave the two of them alone. Something had quite obviously snapped within Dale, but what? Exhaustion had prevented him from pondering on this, and they all retired to sleep for the day, with Dale's parents, Pierre and Dalee, sleeping in the new room, his father Chap and his uncle Phinehas sleeping with Monterey and Zipper; Camembert Kate, and his mom, Nikoma, sleeping with Gadget, and Tammy Hazelnut and Midge on the couch.

He got dressed and went to the living room. There was no one there, so he went to the kitchen and saw the others, except for Kate, preparing dinner again. Neither Dale nor Foxglove were around, however. Again, Pierre was a tough and burly sciurid, his brown fur beginning to grey slightly, with a black nose and buckteeth, and he was now wearing a dark grey shirt. Dalee had a red nose and straight incisors, her fur was brown like Dale's, and she was clad in an orange dress. Chap looked exactly like Chip, except for the greying and the wrinkles, and now wore a black leather jacket. Nikoma had green eyes and brown fur with just a touch of grey, and had chosen for her attire a plain green dress, which accentuated her eyes.

“Anyone seen Dale or Foxy?” Pierre and Dalee stopped mixing ingredients and just looked sadly at each other, laying their ears against their heads. Gadget padded up to Chip and replied,

“No, Chip. They haven't come back yet, and we're getting worried. Maybe we should go look for-”

“NO!” Everyone stopped breathing for one second, laid back stiff ears, and looked at Dale's parents..

“Er, no,” repeated Pierre, more calmly. “Dale and Foxy are going through-something-that can only be solved by *them*. Please, *please* leave them alone until they come back.” Chip looked at Dale's father and exclaimed,

“But they *haven't* come back, Pierre! And it's been a whole day! Also, both of them *are* Rescue Rangers, and as members of this team it is our duty-”

“Chip, please,” said Dalee, with a soft, sad voice. “We know Dale is your best friend, and we know you're worried, but, right now, this is something between him and Foxy. We know, we-sorta went through the same thing.” Chip looked at Dalee for a moment, with slight suspicion.

“What?” he asked. Pierre looked at his wife sadly for a moment, and then replied,

“I think we should talk about this in the morning, it's kinda long:”

A reddish light filtered through Dale's eyelids, waking him. Someone who was playing a radio a trifle too loudly just now may have also awakened him, but he wasn't too sure of that at this point. He opened his eyes to see the sun setting behind the skyline, announcing the end of the day. It was a beautiful sunset, so beautiful, it made him lay his ears back and cry.

It made him cry because in a flash, memories of the past year and the previous night landed on him like an anvil. Memories of him and Foxglove so much enjoying sunrises and sunsets, memories of them about to get married yesterday, memories of the tragic events of last night, memories of the sudden realisation of who he was and what he was getting Foxglove into, memories of the talk they had---oh no---no-----

He noticed he was still in the tree across from the large oak he called home. He was so devastated and exhausted that he didn't bother going home, and had curled up in a crotch and cried himself to sleep. His cheeks and throat were matted from his tears, and Foxglove's, too. Her scent was still quite prevalent, emanating from his arms and torso. The pain in his chest then reappeared with full force, making him think he had a black hole where his heart used to be. He tried to comfort himself,

*I did the right thing. Foxy doesn't deserve someone so hazardous and fickle like me. She'll be safe now, safe from me.* And despite her promise to return, it was more than obvious to him that she would not be coming back, not ever. And he knew she knew that, too. His sorrow was then mixed with anger. His ears remained flat, and his tail stiffened,

*All this time, I never thought it would happen to me. What are we cursed or somethin'? Why do ALL Oakmonts have to go through this? All those stories my parents told me, they were sad, but I thought they were all coincidences. Now it happened to me. What's worse, it happened to Foxy too!!* Sitting up, he looked at the oak, and then at the sky, with one last smouldering wick of hope. The oak remained still, and its occupants made no sign they were there. But he knew they were there, as they should also be waking up by now. The sky was a swath of blue and red, and a hint of dark blue off in the eastern horizon. A crescent moon hung just above the southwestern horizon, and an occasional bird fluttered through the sky. There was an airplane now and then, but no bats.

She would not be coming back.

:a tear quenched that smouldering wick:

*If she knows what's good for her, she will stay away from me. From us. From our enemies.* For a moment, he thought that since Foxglove was gone, he should reinstate the competition between him and Chip over Gadget, but he quickly removed that thought from his mind. *No. Chip loves Gadget, maybe more than I loved Foxy. If he's willin' to go through what Foxy and I went through, then he deserves her more than anybody. He's no klutz, so he'll probably make a better husband and father than me. If Gadget hasn't realised that yet, then maybe I should talk to her. She's blowin' the chance of a lifetime--*

He began sobbing uncontrollably again at this point; the unbelievable sorrow and grief and pain and anger within him overriding his desperate need for food.

*But no more. No more Klutz, no more Clown, no more goofin' off, no more foolin' around, no more-gettin' girlfriends-in danger-no more gettin' your hormones and emotions in the way of duty! I'm a _Crime-fighter_ for cryin' out loud! Crime-fighters and Comedians don't mix!! No more-no more---no---more---*

Exhausted from his emotional disturbance and lack of nourishment, he cried himself to sleep again, with those words echoing all over his spirit, mind, and body, announcing the decision he had made:

No more, no more, no more:

The sunlight filtered through the western windows of the steeple, illuminating the painting of Noah's Ark. A breathtaking sight, so breathless, it made Foxglove cry; her tears flowing up her forehead, down to her ear tips, and dripping to the floor below. A radio that had apparently been playing a trifle loudly outside awakened her shortly before the spectacle began, and upon seeing the painting, she too, was hit full-force with memories that, more than fresh, were downright freezing.

How she wished Dale were here, to see this just one more time with her!

How she wished to have never thrown a stone at the window, (which had been replaced) in order to come in here again!

How she wished she could have said something that would have made Dale change his mind!

How she wished to have never fallen for Fat Cat's trick!

How she wished Dale to have just a slightly different echolocation profile, so that she would not have detected him so easily!

How she wished to have never picked up Dale on her sonar and fallen head over heels in love with him in the first place!

How she wished Winifred had succeeded in becoming a full-fledged witch, and then turned her into a completely evil animal, incapable of feeling affection for ANYONE!

How she wished Bud had never captured her!

How she wished to have never fallen from her mother as she flew!

HOW SHE WISHED SHE HAD NEVER BEEN BORN---!!!!!!!!!!

Her train of thought was derailed at this last wish, and she also began sobbing uncontrollably. A few minutes later, she saw the blurred image of Noah's Ark begin darkening as the night set in. She had told him she would eventually return, but those were just words. He had released her, and she could not go back to him, ever. He wanted what was best for her, and he obviously thought *he* wasn't the best, and would never be. And with enemies all around, she, and whatever cubs they had, would never be safe.

Looking down at the floor, she saw the spots her tears had made, mingled with pieces of broken glass, and the stone that she threw last night. Her tears were mixed with Dale's; they were on the floor too, as well as on her face. His woody/nutty/bubble-gummy/chocolaty scent was still mingled with her own as well. That final good-bye hurt, and it hurt so much, she actually reconsidered her threat of finding Fat Cat and feeding herself to him-

No.

She told Dale she would try living with other bats; she at least owed that to him, as that was his parting wish. Besides, it was obvious that Fat Cat and his cronies had most definitely removed chiropterids from their diet list after last night's saliva fest.

If she did not like her new life, then she would try something else, and if not, then she would try over and over until she found a lifestyle that would satisfy her, but the one thing she would NOT do was to fall in love again. The pain was too extreme. No chipmunks, no bats, either, no male of no species would have her heart offered to him ever again.

“But if you *do* find someone else--drop me a line. I will feel better knowin' you are finally out of danger.”

She *would* drop him a line: a note left on his doorstep in the middle of the night, a piece of paper with a lie written on it, a lie that would tell Dale that she was happily married and with two pups, with her and her fictitious family in no danger whatsoever, so maybe Dale would then forget her and try to find someone he truly deserved.

Instinct set in at this point and she released herself from her perch, flew out the window (the opening was large enough for her to fly through), and headed in a direction well away from the park.

As she rode the air currents, her sonar picked up two distressingly familiar signals: up ahead were two bats, and their flight paths were converging.

*Well, I guess my social life with bats begins now*. Catching up to them, she detected that they were both female-

*-and one was carrying a _pup_*.

The hexagonal knot in her throat connected with the black hole in her chest, causing her ears to droop somewhat.

Unable to speak, she tried not to look at or echosound at the pup. They did not say anything to her either, or to each other. Perhaps they were not among the chiropterids that attacked Fat Cat last night and thus did not recognise her. Well and good. They were headed for Staten Island, occasionally catching a few mosquitoes; perhaps there they would reach a larger feeding ground. Hopefully, no one there would recognise her, either. She calmed down, gradually, as the distance between her and Dale increased with each flap of her wings.

And how she wished that right now, instead of being so far apart, she and Dale be as close as husband and wife could get, enjoying each other on their magical first time:

DUO - IT'S AN OAKMONT THING

“Dalee and I were both madly in love, as crazy for each other as Dale and Foxy were.”

*Were*? thought Chip.

“We were planning an enormous wedding, inviting every herbivore in our part of the forest, including deer and moose. One day before the wedding, a lynx kidnapped Dalee. Now, that lynx was not just your average woodland predator. He was downright EVIL, probably even more evil than your friend Fat Cat. He not only killed, but he tortured his victims in the most horrible ways no human or animal has ever thought or seen. He seemed to be in a particular rage against us Oakmonts, since my ancestors befriended a family of bobcats and had some protection against him. I was enraged, as much as Dale was when he woke up. All the animals then gathered against that lynx, and we rescued Dalee. Now while she knew about the feud my family had against that lynx, she never expected something so horrible like this to happen. And that lynx then went on to find a few allies of his own! I was so worried about Dalee, and I then knew that even with the bobcats, she and our cubs would be in constant danger. So, I wanted to let her go, but she refused. We got married and had Dale.”

“But why let her go?” asked Gadget. “Couldn't you two have lived somewhere else?”

“That would have been the easiest thing to do,” replied Dalee. “But it's not that simple. Pierre just couldn't leave his old homestead, and even if he did, he knew that the lynx would have hunted him down, *and found him*, no matter where he went. Also, he had a deep friendship with a bobcat, his name is Tac, even though *he* pleaded him to move away. Pierre refused, thinking that it would be better if *I* moved away and married someone without family feuds. Tac then changed his mind and insisted that Pierre marry me, and we finally did. The bobcats then doubled their surveillance, and the lynx and his allies were eventually defeated.”

“Sounds like a ëappy ending to me, mates.” said Monterey. Zipper added,

“Yeah, I just hope this incident doesn't break up Dale and Foxy.” Pierre then looked at the overweight murid and his muscid friend, took a deep breath, and continued,

“That's what we're afraid of, guys. You see, *every* single male member of my family has gone through the same thing. You may think that all of this is a coincidence, but by the way it's been happening, by the *pattern* it has followed, and from what happened now, we know now that there is something, or someone, behind this. A ëfamily curse', if you wish to call it that.”

“Sounds to me that you're just as superstitious as Dale,” said Chip. “And just exactly what is this ëpattern' that your family is ëcursed' with?”

“Dalee got kidnapped, was rescued, and she married me. My father first fell in love with a flying squirrel, she got attacked by a marten, was rescued, but she left him, and he went on to marry a chipmunk. My grandfather fell in love with a squirrel, and she nearly died in a forest fire. My great-grandfather first fell in love with a chipmunk, but she caught tuberculosis and died, and he married another. My great-great-grandfather fell in love with a buck-toothed hamster, she was captured by a wild dog, was rescued with the help of the bobcats, and they married. The list goes on and on.” The mammals, the insect, and the avian looked at the Oakmonts in disbelief. Dalee resumed,

“You see, every single generation of Oakmonts has been hit with either abduction, disease, or accidents, all right before the wedding. And every ëother' generation of Oakmonts has lost their first fiancÈe, one way or another. And since Pierre got to keep me, I-I-” She lowered her ears and began to cry at this point, “I think Dale is going to lose Foxy!!” She wept on her husband's shoulder but was suddenly frightened, as well as everyone else, when Chip stood and banged his fists on the table, ears back and tail stiff.

“NO!!” he chattered. “This is INSANITY!! It's all a COINCIDENCE!! Foxglove was NOT killed!! She would NEVER leave Dale!! And he would NEVER let her go!!!” Dale's father stood and glared at him, also with stiff ears and tail.

“All right, Mister ëDetective', then YOU explain why our family has gone through this-this-this HELL!!” Both sciurids breathed heavily and appeared to be ready to jump at each other. Chip began to calm down, however, when he felt Gadget's paw on his shoulder. Pierre, too, calmed down, as his wife held him close. Tails relaxed and ears were raised again. Slowly sitting back down, Pierre sighed,

“Sorry, Chip, I guess my temper got the best of me.”

“No, no, I shouldn't have started yelling. This is-a very sensitive issue. I should have been more understanding with you. I'm sorry too, Pierre.” Breathing deeply for a few moments, Chip continued, “Now, then, Pierre, let's say that this is indeed a family curse, or that someone secretly hates your family. Do you know when this pattern began?” Pierre thought deeply for a moment, and replied,

“This-this *curse* began even before we got the Oakmont name. And since we started keeping records only recently, I really can't tell you when this all began. I'm sorry, Chip, but for all we know, this could have started before our ancestors boarded Noah's Ark!” Chip thought for a moment, and then he asked,

“Are you completely sure that this has happened to EVERY single Oakmont generation? There haven't been any breaks in this pattern?”

“The pattern has held since before the Europeans arrived. Beyond that, I can't say the pattern hasn't been occasionally broken, but from what my grandfather told me, it has always been there.” Chip pondered again and said,

“Then for all we know this pattern began spontaneously, and it could very much break spontaneously-”

“That's what I was hoping for since the day I met Dalee,” he replied through clenched incisors, lowering his ears.

“Now, now,” said Chap, “Pierre, you can't just give up hope for Dale and Foxglove. This pattern could very much break with them!! There's no reason why it shouldn't!”

“He's right,” added Gadget. “A similar case would be the U.S. Presidency. Since 1820, every president that got elected in a year that ended in zero died in office, one way or another. As far as we know, that pattern began spontaneously, and was stopped spontaneously by Reagan, elected 1980.”

“But that's only 160 years of a ëspontaneous' pattern,” said Nikoma. “The Oakmont's streak has existed since before Columbus, or even the last ice age!” Chip interrupted,

“Guys, what I'm saying is this: There's no way to find out how this all began. Hence, there's no way to find out how to end it. But also, there's nothing that can prove that this pattern has NOT been broken before. In Dale's case, Foxglove was abducted, but she was not murdered, made sick, or killed in an accident. And judging from Dale's behaviour, there's NO WAY he's going to let Foxglove go. And don't even THINK Foxglove is going to leave Dale. Sheesh, they would have probably got married right after the Winifred Case if Dale hadn't been so shy!! Look, Pierre, I think my dad is right. There is no reason why this pattern cannot break now. This whole incident may just as well bring Dale and Foxy even closer than ever before. For all we know, they could have gone to the nearest justice of the peace, got married right there and then, and right now they could be on their way to Bermuda!!” Pierre then looked at his son's best friend's eyes, raised his ears, and asked,

“Then why was he hurting?” Chip sat back at this question.

“Huh?”

“You saw the look in his eyes. It was the same look I had when I told Dalee I was going to let her go. I was going to remain single and let the Oakmont line *die*-to end the curse. I didn't want my cubs, or their cubs after them, to go through the hell this family has been put through. And his reaction was an exact copy of what I did 25 years ago!!” Pierre laid his ears back again and began to cry and snarl at the same time, while digging his claws on the table. “It-it was like watching a re-run on TV!! Or even worse, it was like watching a ghost of myself, my father, my grandfather, every single ancestor, all rolled into one tortured ëMUNK--!!!” Dalee held her husband tighter as he tried to remain dignified before his friends. Chip, however, did not know what to make of this. Dale was in pain; perhaps it was because he thought the curse had landed on him. But Foxglove was safe, and there was absolutely no reason for him to break up with Foxglove at the last moment!

“Is that why you didn't want us to go after them?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Dalee. “We didn't want you to see history being repeated.”

“Blimey!” squeaked Cheddarhead, gruffly. “You don't know if THAT was what ëappened!! I say Chipper's right and those two are ëitting it off right now-!!”

“Watch yore language, ya big lug!!” said Camembert, slapping the back of his head. “There are cubs present!!”

“Where?” asked Tammy and Midge at the same time. Chip then tried to regain control of this conversation.

“Listen, guys, the fact is that Dale and Foxglove have been missing for over 24 hours now, and I think we should start looking for them. From Dale's behaviour, they *could* be on their honeymoon right now, but I *know* he'd *at least* leave us a note telling us where they were going. And if they're NOT on their honeymoon, then they just MIGHT be in trouble *again*! But those two breaking up, Pierre, I'm sorry, but I just don't see any motive in that!! They love each other so much, they're absolutely inseparable!!” Pierre then turned and looked at the watch on the wall.

09:28

He then looked back at Chip and said,

“Dale will come in here right now, and when he does, we'll see about that. And you don't know how much I have prayed that this pattern would break right here, right now-” Phinehas asked,

“And just how do you know he's going to come in at this very moment-”

The front door opened.

Everyone turned and saw a familiar rodent standing there.

All ears and tails drooped at this point.

Pierre and Dalee's hearts sank when they saw him standing-

Alone:

TREIS - A SEARCH BEGINS

Staten Island was not exactly a new place for Foxglove; she had been here before. Still, she felt more than a trifle self-conscious when she reached the garbage dump and began feeding, for this was the first time in a long while that she fed with other bats. And from the looks and echosoundings they were giving her, she knew that several of them thought they recognised her. Still, there were plenty of insects for everybody (but she couldn't bring herself to eat flies), and she tried to blend in. But as the night wore on, she started getting increasingly nervous. Several male chiropterids tried to start conversations with her, but she quickly banked and flew away from them. And one male pipistrell in particular seemed to be echosounding at her *very* closely. At first, she regarded this as normal, but when she heard him continuing his scans with more and more intensity, she decided enough was enough and left the dump. She didn't get too far, however.

“Foxglove??” Her ears perked up. She turned around and heard-

“Otis!!” She had been found by the “chiropterid representative” of their wedding, not to mention the same one who helped round up a myriad of bats to assist in her rescue. She let him catch up to her, and he continued,

“Foxglove! It IS you!! I *thought* I heard your profile, but I couldn't believe YOU would be HERE!! I thought I was getting a sore throat or something, or that I needed to get my ears cleaned.” They turned and headed back to the dump.

“Well, yes, Otis, your throat and ears are just fine. It *is* me. It's just that-when you were echosounding at me so loudly, I thought you had-other things in mind.” Ashamed, he replied,

“Oh, um, well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were you. I'm sorry I made you think otherwise.” Deciding to change the subject, he asked, “And what are you doing here, anyways? Aren't you supposed to be getting married? And-are you all right?” Otis had noticed her matted fur on her face. Foxglove's throat tightened again and her ears went limp. What on earth could she say to this? She simply could NOT spill the beans right now, not in the middle of this crowd!

“Er-well-we-um-decided to wait-sort of-until we both calmed down-and-and-we decided-to take a break-for a while-and-and-I'm all right-really-I just haven't groomed my face yet-” She simply could not tell him they had broken up, as he then would probably begin to court her. She also tried not to notice his handsome features, and the only way to do this was to think of him as her possible long-lost brother- “Um-Otis-actually, the real reason-I'm here is because-because I need to find my family. Any family. I *really* need someone of my family present at the wedding, even if it is a distant cousin. The ceremony-can't be totally legal without witnesses from *both* families. And-and-I need your help.” Both of them banked and hovered suddenly, echosounding at each other for a moment. This was the first time Foxglove had asked for help from someone other than the Rescue Rangers.

“Really?” he asked. “Then why aren't the other Rangers helping you? Or are they looking somewhere else-?”

“YES!” she blurted, trying to keep his mind away from Dale. “The others-are searching other areas--I was assigned this place, and-and I will need your help. First, we will need to gather any couples or mothers who lost their pups several years ago. Then-we will need to-screen them-somehow-”

“Wow, Foxglove, you're a very good detective!! And you've learned that from your friends, didn't you? You must be really proud to be a Rescue Ranger.” The knot intensified and she could barely speak,

“Yes, I know-I-am-”

For she could simply not tell him that she was a Rescue Ranger no longer:

TESSARES - I AWOKE AND LAUGHED NO MORE

“Dale, where's Foxglove?” The other tamias turned and replied, lowering his ears, slightly annoyed,

“I'm just fine, Chip. Excuse me, I need some breakfast.” With that, Dale padded into the kitchen, with his parents following.

Everyone feared the worst at this point. Chip then stood, ran out the door, and looked outside.

It was another fine day, with partly cloudy skies. A perfect day to get married.

Foxglove wasn't there.

“No,” he growled. “NO! You DIDN'T!! YOU'RE STUPID, BUT NOT *THAT* STUPID!!” He whirled and saw Gadget at the door. Both had their ears down now. He tried to reason, “No. Foxglove must have gone into emotional shock. He must have comforted her, and had her sleep someplace away from the park. There is NO REASON why he can't marry her!! NO REASON!!!!” Gadget then took hold of his arm and led him back inside.

“Chip, I hope you're right. But now, only Dale can tell us what happened, and he's going to need some time before he can tell us.” The sciurid shook his head in denial,

“He won't NEED time!! Foxglove is coming here by sunset, and everything is going to be perfectly fine for both of them!!” Gadget closed the door, led him to the couch, and sat him down. She was about to hold him close too, but another knock on the door interrupted her. Everyone perked their ears, looked at the door again, and prayed dearly that Foxglove would be there. Gadget ran to the door, and opening it, she asked,

“Foxy?”

“No, my name is Clark Jent. I'm a reporter for the *Fur and Feather Journal and Picayune*.” Everyone stared at the tall brown ferret, who wore a red shirt and white cap. “I was sent here two days ago to cover a wedding for our social column, a wedding of one-” he pulled out a paper from his right pocket, “Dale Oakmont and one Foxglove-no last name. A chipmunk and a bat, interesting combination. I got to the pond just after you all learned that the bride had been kidnapped by one of your enemies. Our sources tell us that you Rescue Rangers rescued the bride. Is she and the groom in right now? I'd like to interview them-” Gadget eyes flashed with sudden anger as she interrupted,

“The bride and groom are indisposed right now, Mr. Jent.” Pausing for a moment, she added, laying her ears back. “And now that you mention it, so are we.”

“Still? Hmm, I *thought* I had given you guys enough time to recover from the emotional shock that this incident might have brought. My boss wanted me to come yesterday, but I asked him to be patient.” Gadget calmed down and raised her ears again, but only for a moment, as Clark continued, “Still, I have a column to fill. Could you ëfill' me in on the facts of the kidnapping and rescue?” When Gadget replied, with low ears again, even *she* was surprised to hear her voice somewhat lower,

“I *could*, but I *really* don't feel like it right now, Mr. Jent!!”

“All right, we'll skip that. What will happen to the wedding now?” Gadget's mind went blank for 1.45 seconds upon hearing this question. She *didn't* want to give the press something that would make their enemies feel victorious. Thinking for another 6.83 seconds, she replied,

“The wedding has been postponed, Mr. Jent.”

“Really?” he asked casually. “I already knew that. And when is the new ceremony going to be held?” Gadget had to use every bit of self-control to avoid strangling this media representative. Her tail stiffened, as she tried not to growl,

“The wedding has been postponed, Mr. Jent. For security reasons, it will be held in an undisclosed place at an undisclosed time, both of which will be disclosed to you one day later. Good-bye.” The ferret was about to ask another question but before he even finished taking his next breath the door was already shut.

With angry ears and tail, Gadget went over to the couch and sat next to Chip.

“Postponed?” he asked.

“I hope,” she replied.

Dale opened the cupboard and was about to get a candy bar, but then, something within him held him back. Or actually, it was something that wasn't in him anymore. Dale felt confused for a moment, seeing that he simply couldn't bring himself to get his favourite food. With a sigh, he closed the cupboard, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out an eighth of an apple. He sat at the table and practically had to force the food down his own throat. His parents, looking at him with unbelievable sadness and with drooped ears and tails, slowly sat in front of him. His mother fearfully began,

“Dale? What-what happened?” Dale returned a blank stare, swallowed, and replied with a sigh,

“What was supposed to happen:what:what happened to Grandpa.” His parents' hearts finished breaking at this point. Both reached out to hold his paws, pausing his breakfast momentarily. Pierre said,

“Dale, we're so sorry. But you already know the whole story. You know that you can't lose hope because it won't happen-”

“Again, yes, I know,” Dale stated, pulling back, lowering his ears. “Not with me, at least. No sirree, this generation has paid the toll. But Dad,” he looked at Pierre's eyes, “It *can* happen again, with whoever comes after me, and whoever follows *him*!! It's never goin' to stop!!!” Remembering Chip's words, Dalee said,

“Well, now dear, we don't know that for sure. For all we know this could stop at any momen-”

“It already did,” interrupted the young tamias.

“What?” she asked in confusion, raising her ears, as did Pierre.

“I said it already stopped. I finally figured out how to stop this, and I'm *puttin'* a stop to this.” His parents looked at him even more confusedly.

“You figured it out?” asked Pierre, with annoyance added to his confusion. “Then why didn't you do something before???!!!” Again, Dale looked at his father with the same seriousness of the tragic night.

“Because the Clown, the Goof-up, the Klutz, and the Comedian convinced me not to.”

“Dale! Don't talk about your friends that way!!” exclaimed Dalee, ears stiffened up. Dale looked at her and sighed,

“Mom, I'm talkin' about ME. For a long time *I've* been all those things. And all those things pushed me into doin' somethin' I *knew* would lead to disaster. But I know better now. I'm puttin' a stop to this. It won't happen again because I'm gettin' *rid* of the Clown, the Goof-up, the Klutz, and the Comedian:and it won't happen again because:” Dale gritted his incisors for a moment, trying to push back the pain of what he was going to say, “Because I'm *not* goin' through this again.” He just couldn't look at his parents' faces now. He stared at the table, trying to make himself eat again.

“Wh-what?” asked Dalee, drooping her ears and beginning to cry again. Dale looked up a trifle and continued,

“Mom, Dad, you heard me. I'm not goin' to pass this torch from hell to *anyone*, much less my cub and grandcub. And the only way I can put a stop to this-is if I put a stop to *us*. Mom, Dad, I'm not goin' to try again. I'm-” The pain was so intense he nearly threw up. “I'm-remainin' single. I-won't look for anyone else. The only way this curse will die is if the Oakmonts die. And I've decided to let the curse die with me. No more Oakmonts will suffer this pain from hell.” He sat back and sighed, reflecting, “Maybe this will be the smartest thing I've ever done, with all the goof-ups I've caused-”

Like watching a re-run on TV.

An exact copy of his exact thoughts 25 years ago.

And not only thoughts, but now, thoughts brought to action: an EXECUTION.

A ghost of himself, his father, his grandfather, every single ancestor, all rolled into one tortured ëMUNK-

This last statement caused Pierre to lay his ears back, stiffen his tail, grind his incisors, sink his claws on the table, stand slowly in an incredible rage, and snarl,

“DALE SEGOLEH OAKMONT---!!!!!” Dale almost lowered his ears and shivered and cowered when he heard his father call him by his full name, but a previous decision kept his serious look on his face.

“Oh, by the way, Dad, I'm gettin' rid of that name as well.” Pierre enraged even more and leaned closer to his son.

“WHAT???!!! You mean you're killing your Mohawk roots before their time as well???!!! Why not just kill yourself and *us* right now???!!!” Dale continued to speak calmly,

“No, Dad, *I* already died. I died the other night. And I should have said ëI'm *changin'* that name as well'. ëHe who laughs' simply can't be a part of me anymore, not after all the damage he's caused up to now.” Dale's parents were speechless again for a moment. So, he took this chance to explain, “Dad, I'm not cuttin' off my roots. I'm just adjustin' them to the decision I made. As of today, I'm Dale Hastahah Oakmont.” Dalee gasped, paled, and nearly fainted. Her whole life flashed before her eyes for a moment, or more precisely, just the day of Dale's birth, and how instead of crying or whimpering, the cub made strange noises which almost sounded like *laughter*. And now, her son was not only rejecting the name they had given him, which had proved to be quite prophetic, but he was now replacing it with its exact opposite. Still shocked and enraged, especially by seeing his wife's reactions, Pierre snarled again,

“But Dale, you can't change who you are by just changing your name!!!” Dale replied with a deathly calm,

“You're right, Dad, but I'm changin' my name *because* I'm changin' who I am.” With veins nearly standing out from his neck fur, Pierre asked,

“Well, ëhe who grieves', just *what* will you be grieving at?” Dale looked at his parents, then he looked down again, and sighed,

“At what else? At the death of the Oakmont line. At the death of Dale and Foxglove. At the death of a Goof-up, a Klutz, a Clown-” His heart collapsed within him once more, as his voice cracked:

“:at the death of a Comedian:”

Pierre would have beat the tar out of his son, but Dale's tone of voice and the shock and the suddenness of a nearly literal death caused him to freeze after he stood. His whole body trembled as his eyes reddened. Finally, he just leaned over and hugged his son tight, whimpering. Dalee, too, broke down in tears and hugged them both.

But Dale didn't cry, for some reason:

One hour later, a freshly showered sciurid stood outside the front door, looking at the sky, ears up and tail relaxes. No chiropterid tears or scent remained on him now. He still refused to talk to the other Rangers, and that was getting just a trifle unnerving for them. But he would tell them, eventually, if they didn't know about this already. At this point, his parents padded outside and hugged him.

“Give us a call whenever you need us,” said Pierre, with sad ears and tail.

“I will.”

“Oh, Dale, are you *sure* you won't come home with us, even for a little while?” sobbed Dalee.

“I'm sure, mom. I-I've got a job here. An important one. I can't let my feelin's get in the way of rescuin' others. But I *will* keep in touch. And-I'm sorry you came all the way here for nothin'.” Pierre said,

“You-did what you had to do, son.” With that, they kissed him good-bye and climbed down the tree.

And they both knew that they would be the only couple in their part of the forest without grandcubs:

Chap, Nikoma, and Phinehas gave their farewells to the other Rangers and padded outside. Their features also expressed their sadness.

“Are you *sure* you're gonna be all right?”

“I'm sure, Chap.”

“You'd better. I think Chip's taking this worse than *you* are!!”

“I'll talk to him, Nikoma. I'll talk to all of them. I-have to move on. And, Phinehas, I'm sorry you never got to do the ceremony. I'm sure you had somethin' big in mind, but, maybe you'll be able to do it with Chip.”

“Now, Dale, don't you keep talking that way. For some reason, I don't think this whole thing is over yet-”

“Phinehas, please, just forget the whole thing. It's over-it's-over-” Chip's relatives then hugged Dale and left.

Cheddarhead and Camembert followed. Their ears and tails were down as well.

“Dale, lad, I must say that this is the first divorce I've seen that ëappens afore the weddin',” said Camembert.

“My first time, too,” replied Dale. “I suppose you two know how I feel-”

“No, we don't,” stated Cheddarhead. “We may be divorced, but that was ëcause of differences that came o'er the years. You-you released the one you loved-because you loved ëer. We're sorry, lad.” Monterey's parents hugged Dale and left.

Midge hopped out and said,

“Dale, I'm so sorry about this-”

“I'm sorry you flew all the way over here. And, thanks for your help. I couldn't have rescued-” The chipmunk choked on this last word and simply hugged the bird. Moments later, they broke. “Keep in touch, will you?”

“I will. So long, friend.” With that, the swallowmaid flew off.

Tammy had just kissed Chip good-bye, and for some reason, he did not mind that, and nor did Gadget. She padded outside and looked at Dale. She was about to give her condolences too, but her words disintegrated in her throat. Her eyes welled up, her ears and tail drooped, and she embraced the chipmunk tightly, sobbing on his shoulder.

Dale did not cry.

He already did that the other night:

A few moments later, he said,

“Please, Tammy, you *really* should go home now. Your mom and sister are probably worried about you.” The teenage squirrelmaid looked at the chipmunk and could only reply,

“Oh, Dale, I'm so sorry-I'm so sorry-” Abruptly, she released him and ran back home.

Dale sadly saw her run off. From her reactions, one would think *she* was the one who lost a loved one. Looking at the sky one last time, Dale padded back inside.

He'd have to stop looking at the sky that way now:

The other Rangers were waiting for him in the living room, so he padded up to them and casually asked,

“Okay, guys, what's our next case?”

Chip then jumped at him and bonked him with the biggest bonk he had ever given him, so big, he actually hurt his left paw in the process. Before Dale could recover, Chip grabbed his Hawaiian shirt and slammed Dale's back into the wall.

“DALE, WHERE IS FOXGLOVE,” he growled, laying back his ears and stiffening his tail. The others were shocked at Chip's behaviour, but Dale remained calm, as if nothing had happened.

“She's probably sleepin' right now. Why?” Looking at him with mad eyes, Chip growled,

“I'M GOING TO ASK THIS AGAIN, DALE: WHERE-IS-FOXGLOVE.”

“I don't know, Chip. Now please let go of my shirt.” Chip, suddenly aware of his temper, slowly released his grip, brought his ears up again, relaxed his tail, and asked him more calmly,

“Dale-Dale-what-what happened?” Dale wasn't sure if he wanted to re-live the events of the other night. But still, the others deserved to know. They *had* to know.

“Chip, why did you guys leave me here and fly off to rescue Foxglove?” The others were somewhat surprised at this question, thusly lowering their ears, except for Zipper. Chip replied,

“Um, well, Dale, because you fainted, and we couldn't wait for you to wake up.”

“And?” Chip looked at him as if *he* were the one being interrogated.

“And-and-because she needed help right away-”

“And?”

“And-because-because-we knew you'd go berserk. We saw things that would have made you-made you-”

“Mess everythin' up, *again*?”

“Yes-NO!-I mean-”

“It's okay, Chip, you-you made the right decision. I'm-I'm glad I didn't see the things you saw. I-could have got everyone killed.” Chip wondered if Dale was reading his mind, particularly in a chapter *he* didn't even know existed.

“But what about Foxglove?” asked Zipper. Dale took a deep breath and replied,

“Guys, I'm sorry we made you build the new room. And-I'm sorry for all the times I fooled around and messed things up. It won't happen again anymore. As for Foxglove-well, guys-I-I let her go.” Shocked beyond explanation, the Rangers looked at him with slack jaws, ears, and tails. Moments later, Gadget laid her ears back and whimpered,

“B-but-why??”

“For the same reason you never chose me.” Gadget's mind, as well as everyone else's, went blank. Dale explained, “Gadget, it all became clear to me the other night. You didn't choose me, and you were right by not choosin' me. Foxglove-and you-deserve someone who won't faint when you need help, someone who won't go berserk and put you in danger, someone who won't fool around and get bonked on the head over and over and over-” Chip winced here, “-someone without horrible enemies that want to kill you-or your cubs-and that very much leaves me out of it. Foxglove's gone to live with the bats.” The others simply could not believe they were hearing this, and much less hearing it from *Dale*. “But don't feel too bad. I-I'm kinda relieved we all found out about this before we made a stupid decision. Strange, isn't it? It was *Fat Cat*-our enemy-who stopped us from makin' a HUGE mistake! And-there will be no more messin' up by me. No more wisecracks, no more practical jokes, no more goofin' off, no more clownin' around, no more stupid comments, no more jokes, nothin'. The Comedian is dead. From now on, I'm a full-blooded Rescue Ranger. Now, do we have a next case?” Chip stuttered,

“Um, well, no, but-”

“Then are we goin' to *look* for a case?”

“N-no. Dale-”

“All right, then, excuse me. I've got things to do.” With that, he padded back to his room. The others just looked at him pad out to the hallway, and then they looked at each other, stupefied. Moments later, Chip enraged once more and stormed off after his best friend, leaving Monterey, Gadget, and Zipper by themselves.

“He-he-let her go-” she sobbed. Monterey could only reply with sad ears and tail,

“I-I know, luv. But maybe Dale did somethin' right for a change. You know the sayin': If you luv somethin', let it go:”

“If it comes back-it's yours forever:” she continued. Zipper finished,

“And if it doesn't, it wasn't yours to begin with-” Gadget looked at her father's best friend with shock, pain, and confusion, and with low ears and tail, threw herself at him and cried.

And the only time that she had cried so hard was on the day her father died:

Chip stormed into his room and saw Dale packing all of his comic books and joke books into an empty milk carton. Dale turned and asked,

“Say, Chip, can I borrow one of your Sureluck Jones novels-?”

“DALEWHATINTHE######HELLDOYOU######THINKYOU'RE######DOING!!!!????” Dale looked at his best friend more than surprised at this outburst,

“I'm packin' away my comics, do you have a problem with that? Gosh, Chip, I never thought I'd see the day I'd hear you cuss like that--”

“THAT'SBECAUSEI'VENEVERBEENSOSHOCKEDATYOUBEFOREDALE,” he growled in response, and breathing *very* audibly. His ears were again against his head, and his tail was as stiff as a board.

“What'swrongwithputtin'awaycomicbooks?” he asked, also beginning to get riled.

“DALE***WHAT***AREYOUDOING???” Dale sighed, stood up straight, padded over to him, looked at him in the eye, and replied,

“WhatdoesitlooklikeI'mdoin'?I'mburyin'myoldlife.” Calming down somewhat, relaxing his tail, and raising his ears, Chip asked,

“Dale, what-*what* *about* *Foxy*?” Dale sighed again,

“She's better off without me. We realised that the other night.” Chip's mind simply could not register this fact.

“Whatdoyoumeanëbetter'??!!Youtwowereperfectforeachother!!”

“PERFECT???!!!” he spat. “NowTHAT'Saninterestin'wordtodescribemeespeciallywhenit'scomin'fromYOU!!!!!” Chip stood back a moment and lowered his ears upon hearing this accusation.

“AndjustWHATdoyoumeanbythat??!!” he spat back. Dale looked at him for a moment as pain once again filled his eyes. Finally, he explained,

“Do you know what it feels like to be insignificant, Chip?”

“Huh?” Dale laid his ears back and explained,

“Sure. To see your friends, people you would gladly lay down your life for without hesitation, to see them cringe when you offer to help them with somethin'. And to have your advice, input and thoughts on *any* topic instantly dismissed as worthless?” Chip suddenly felt all his blood pool to his foot-paws. He never knew:“You, Chip, on more than one occasion were ready to be believe that I had lost my mind before you were willin' to believe that I was right about somethin'.” Chip suddenly felt a deathblow himself. “Or Gadget, of all people! Her words are STILL ringin' in my ears all these years later: When we were in South America, tryin' to find who was stealin' those cacao trees, and when I showed you all where the trees were taken, Gadget uttered those cruel words, ëGolly! Could Dale be right after all?' As if the very idea of me bein' right about somethin' was utterly unimaginable to her!! I would have expected words like that from *you*, Chip, but not her. That-that was the worst part:” Dale turned away for a moment. Chip was now robbed of all speech. This was certainly something he had *never* considered. “Actually, no, that *wasn't* the worst part,” he continued, turning back to Chip. “The worst was Paris. Chip, even though that nozzle exploded on me, I *knew* I had messed up again. I *knew* I shouldn't have tried to get more cream. But all I wanted was a little slack from *you*. *YOU*, being a Detective, should have used your powers of observation to see that the nozzle was faulty from the start. Still, you had every right to be angry with me, but you didn't have to say that the Rescue Rangers would be better off without me.”

“Well, they wouldn't be-”

“Of course not, Detective. How long did it take you to get out of that sewer?” Once again, Chip felt another blow. It was because of the absence Dale's sensitive nose that they took so long in finding their way to the correct storm drain. “But that wasn't the end of it. I really thought Gadget would have backed me up, with her bein' so smart and knowin' what was wrong with the nozzle. But she called me a Goof-up as well, as did Zipper. And did you think I didn't notice the way she said it? Monty was ëkinder', you might say, by callin' me a ëComic Relief', but at *least* he already apologised for that! And then you told me to do somethin' I wouldn't mess up: *sight-seein'*. And do you think I didn't hear you say that I would learn my lesson if you solved that case by yourselves??!!”

“Dale, I-”

“But do you know what was the *truly* worst part? Chip, I was *cryin'*. And how many of you came after me?”

Silence.

Chip could not say a single word.

“Yeah, you're just barely noticin' that, aren't you? Chip, I was *one second* away from leavin' Paris and the Rescue Rangers forever, if that was the thing that would have made you happy. Fortunately for you, I got hit on the head right before I went to the train station. And sure, later on you apologised, sayin' that the Rescue Rangers wouldn't be the same without me. And you said that you'd never doubt my abilities again. But tell me, Chip, *have* you doubted my abilities after Paris?” Chip froze again. “Come on, Chip, I *dare* you to say NO.” Dale crossed his arms and waited one minute, but his fearless leader/best friend would not say a word. “And not only you, my best friend, but Zipper, Monty, and GADGET as well!! Boy, how I wanted to speak out. Of course, I couldn't tell her that her words or her lack of faith in me was deeply woundin', otherwise it would have hurt her feelin's. Which would have prompted YOU to bonk me on the head for not being considerate of HER feelin's!!! Am I right, Mister Maplewood???!!!” Despite all his outward denial, Chip knew, he *knew* that those would have been his exact reactions. “I've admired you from the first day we met, Chip. When you decided to make a rescue/detective organization, I jumped right in. I was your best friend *and* I wanted to feel important. But do you think it's been easy for me bein' a Rescue Ranger? Here I am, day after day, surrounded by a detective who is equal to or better than Sureluck Jones, an inventor who can build things that baffle science, a legendary adventurer, a fly who can knock you down once he finds your balance point, and here I am, Dale: the Cowardly, Dim-witted Klutz!!!”

“D-Dale-”

“Do you have any idea how small and unimportant I have felt *bein'* a part of this group? It often feels that if it wasn't for occasional bits of dumb luck, my presence would add nothing.”

“Now Dale, that's not-”

“Have *you* ever felt insignificant, Chip?” he interrupted, derailing once again Chip's train of thought. Before he could even think about that question, Dale continued, “I think not, but I have, *ALL* *MY* *LIFE*!!! You think you're so tough and bold, Chip, or *any* of you for that matter. Try paddin' in my shoes for just *one day* and know what if feels like to be worthless. What if Gadget lost her prodigious intellect? Would you start bonkin' *her* on the head if she started doin' or sayin' dumb things?” Once more, Chip stood in shock. He had never considered that option, not in the least. “What if Monty wasn't big and strong? What if Zipper suddenly started makin' jokes and wisecracks? What if YOU lost your detective abilities? Imagine these things and know what it's like to be Dale. What it's like to be the Comedian.” Chip was not only robbed of all speech, but of all thought as well. So many things he had taken for granted, so many things he had overlooked, so many times he, and the others, had hurt Dale without even knowing it. Dale looked away from him for a moment, and continued, “Even before we came to the city, it has always been like that. You know we've not only fought for Gadget, but for other females as well. And they all seemed to like *you* better. And even those who remotely SEEMED to like me more::Chip, I've never heard from them again. They talked to me once or twice, and they've *never* come back.” He then counted off his digits, “Not Clarissa, not Clarice, not Chi-Chi, not Lucy, *NONE* OF THEM EVER CAME BACK!!!!!!” Dale fumed to himself for a moment, trying to control his rage. He continued with stiff ears and tail, “If I suddenly left, I know now that Gadget would not even *think* of goin' after me, just like the time in Paris!! *She* would be *another* who would simply NOT come back and *NEVER* give another thought about me AGAIN!!!”

“Nowyoujustholdonthere-”

“I'MNOTFINISHEDHERE,” Dale suddenly growled. He paused again, as his throat knotted again, and as his chest pressed against him as well. “But-but then, one fine night, I found myself fallin' twenty feet off a lamppost, by my stupidity again, what a surprise, and out of nowhere, a bat flew by and saved my life. Not five seconds later she began flirtin' with me. Chip, she had never seen me before, she didn't know me or what I did, or even my name-*I*DIDN'TKNOWHERNAME######IT!!!! And then she started lookin' at me like no female has ever looked at me before. Not Clarissa, not Clarice, not Chi-Chi, not Lucy, much less *Gadget* had ever looked at me like that. Chip::I was scared to death of her. Not just because she was a bat and of all the things I *thought* I knew about bats::but::” Dale's paws trembled a trifle, as finally, his actions and thoughts and feelings coalesced into words, “:but because she thought of me as *significant*, Chip. No one's ever thought of me that way before. Not *you*, not *Gadget*, not *Monty*, not *Zipper*, not those other females, *no one*. I had no idea how to react other than to push her away. When she left the first time, I thought I was right, as you were *always* right: that I was *really* insignificant and she never really meant anythin' of what she did to me, and that she was *exactly* like all the other females who had even *bothered* to talk to me. Then-then-” He paused again, as his voice nearly cracked. “Then she came back, Chip.” Dale's eyes were filled with pain once more. “No one has ever done that to me. She-she was the first one to ever came back-to *me*, Chip---she came *back* *to* *ME*. I had *no idea* what to do. And-and--so I--I got scared all over again. I decided to try to be a good friend and not say anythin' that would hurt her feelin's, which I STILL stupidly messed up again, what a surprise here, and-then I suddenly saw that I'd lost her to a RADIO. You know, I was ABOUT to tell her that she could take her radio back to her home, thinkin' she would and then she and her radio would never come back and live happily ever after the end. But---when she got captured---I----*I*--felt captured too, Chip. I didn't know what was happenin' to me. Until I looked at her eyes. And then everythin' fell into place. Finally, I had someone who really, *really* believed in me. Someone who *wouldn't* consider my ideas insignificant or worthless. Someone who *gladly* accepted my help. Someone who *wanted* to hear my thoughts and ideas. Someone who *loved* the Comedian. I felt *important*, Chip. I finally thought that after all this time, I was *really* worth somethin' after all. You thought we were perfect for each other? Well, we thought so too. But-but-” Suddenly Dale stood to Chip's face and chattered, “Butweweren't!!Sodon'tyoutellMEanything'aboutbein'PERFECT!!!TheComedian'snogoodforherandifhewasthenhewouldn'thavefaintedwhenhereadFatCat'snotewouldhe??!!YOUwouldn'thavefaintedright??” Chip pondered for a moment on what would have happened if Fat Cat had kidnapped Gadget and left *him* a similar clue. And all he could answer was,

“N-no.”

“Andyouknewthat.Andyou*also*knewthatIwouldhavegoneberserkandmessedupagainateveryone'sriskright?”

“Well, yes-”

“So there you have it. She was wrong about me, and you were right once again. You've *always* been right. The Comedian could never live up to anyone's expectations. Not hers, not mine, and not yours. That's why I'm killin' the Comedian and startin' again.” With that, Dale turned around, relaxed his ears and tail, and padded back to the box. But Chip wasn't through.

“Andyoulethergojustlikethatthen??”

Dale stopped.

He turned to him again, and slowly replied with a pained voice,

“'Just like that', you ask?” He padded back to him and continued with tight fists, clenched incisors, flat ears, and stiff tail, “'Just like that'?? ChipI**DIED**thatnight!!AndFoxydiedtoo!!” Turning aside, he raised his paws and reflected, “You know, you just don't wake up one day and say to yourself, 'Zowie! This looks like a fine day to kill myself *and* my Significant Other!' Chip, that was the most horrible decision I've ever had to make. Now, I'm startin' over again.” But for some reason Chip still could not understand.

“But Dale, why do you think those were perfectly good reasons to let her go? I mean, you *have* been getting more serious lately-”

“Chip, Fat Cat also saw a chance to get all of us, and he made good use of it. Can you imagine what would have happened if he had got not only Foxy, but also my three cubs and *your son*??!! There's no way we could get married, not with danger being all around us!!” Chip's features twisted and stiffened at this. With an accusing index digit in front of him, he hissed,

“That'stheLAMESTexcuseyou'veevercomeupwithyouIDIOT!!You'rejustsayingthatbecauseyoumadeyourselfbelieveaLIEthatALLofthishappenedbecauseofyoufamily'sso-calledcurse!!” Dale growled back,

“Somyparentstoldyouaboutthat.WellI'llhaveyouknowthatyou'reWRONG!!IoncehadtheVERYdimhopeofbeatin'youandwinnin'Gadgetoverandmarryin'*her*!Andyoucouldverywellseethatnocursewasstoppin'mefromtryin'!!ButwhenIfellinlovewithFoxglovethememoriesofwhatmyparentstoldmestartedtohauntme.ButIkepttellin'myselfthatthosewerejustcoincidencesandthattherewasNOWAYitcouldhappentousnotevenwiththeenemieswehavenow!! That's why-I fainted-whenIsawthenote.Azilliongenerationsofcurses-hitme--IN MY INSIGNIFICANT *FACE*!!!!!”

“ButDaleFoxglovewasrescued!!YOUrescuedher!YOUrescuedUS!!AndyouDIDN'Tmessup!!YouprovedyourselfmorethanWORTHYofher!!”

“IalreadytoldyouwhyIlethergo.And-don'tworryaboutme:Gadget'sallyours-andIwon'tseekanother.” Chip infuriated again when this last phrase reminded him of what Pierre said.

“So*you're*goingtodothehonorsthen?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Huh?Whathonors?”

“You'regoingtodowhatyourfathercouldn'tbringhimselftodo:you'regoingtoremainsingleandlettheOakmontline*die*.”

“YouhaveaproblemwiththatMisterMaplewood?”

“DALEAREYOUCUH-RAZY?????!!!!!” It was Chip who had his paws in the air now.

“IfIwas'cuh-razy'IwouldhavemarriedFoxglovealongtimeagoandrightnowIwouldhavesixteencubsnotgivin'theleast######aboutthemormygrandcubsconcernin'thiscurse!!
Soyou'rerightChip.I*will*dothehonors.” Dale sighed. “With me, the Oakmont line-and this curse-comes to an end. It's about time I finally did somethin' significant.” Satisfied with this, Dale relaxed again and continued packing away his comics. But Chip would not give up so easily. Still with stiff ears and tail, he continued,

“Daleyoubrokethelaw.” Dale looked up and shook his head,

“Huh?Whatlaw?”

“Don'tyouremember?AgentsMulderandScullyplacedFoxgloveunderourcustodyunderYOURcustodyandunderalifesentence!!”

“NoChipthey*recommended*alifesentence.Theyneversaidforhowlongshewouldhavetobewithus.AndIthinksheservedhertimewellandsheisnowmorethanabletore-enteranimalsocietydon'tyou?” Chip slowly wiped his face with his left paw.

“DaleFoxgloveisALSOaRescueRanger.HerdecisiontoleaveaffectsALLofus!!Whydidn'tyouATLEASTtellusaboutthisbeforesheleft??”

“Chip-you-you just had to be there when it happened. She did not abandon us-she resigned. Just leave her alone.”

“Oh?Andwhatwillyoudoifshesuddenlyreturnstohercriminalpast?” Dale stiffened his features again and growled,

“FromwhatshetoldmethatnightI*really*doubtthatwillhappen.ButifitdoesthenIguessI'lljusthavetohelpyouguyshuntherdownanddefeatherwon'tI?” Chip looked at his best friend with total incredulity. Not only had he released his ultimate love, but also he would not seek another, *and* he would treat Foxglove like a criminal if he had to.

“DaleYOU'REINSANE!!!Andwhat'sallthisaboutacomedianbeingDEAD??” Calming down with difficulty, Dale explained,

“Chip-ChipI*was*insane-but no more. The Comedian I was is now *gone*, *dead*, and *buried*. And why aren't you glad I'm no longer a clown? Isn't that what you always wanted? For me to stop foolin' around and help you solve cases without messin' up? Didn't you say that you thought the Rescue Rangers would be better off without me? Well, surprise. They *are* better off without the Goof-up, the Clown, and the Comedian. And as of today, the Rescue Rangers are goin' to improve. Because that is exactly what I am goin' to do now: I'm killin' the Goof-up, the Clown, and the Comedian. Chip, I'm sorry for all the times I've messed things up because of my clownin' around. From Day One I've been messin' up, and I can only guess you haven't fired me because I'm your best friend. I abused of your friendship, Chip, and I've caused you and the others to say all those things about me, and I'm terribly sorry I did, and::now that I look back, I see that you were right::in sayin' what you said. But I won't abuse of you friendship, or anyone else's, anymore. As of now, the Goof-up, the Clown, and the Comedian is dead.” Chip simply could not believe that this was the same happy-go-lucky chipmunk who was ready to get married two days ago-

Suddenly, he ran up to him, grabbed his shirt again, and growled,

“ALLRIGHTDITZWHATHAVEYOUDONEWITHDALE??????!!!!!!” Dale looked at his best friend with low ears and tail and tremendous sadness.

“You don't know how much I wish I *was* Ditz, Chip. If I was, then the real me would have already escaped from his spaceship and Foxy and I would be havin' our honeymoon on the actual moon-”

“DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Dale stiffened again, grabbed Chip's jacket and chattered,

“CHIPI'M**NOT**DITZ!!! ANDIT'S***OVER****!!!!FOXGLOVEIS**GONE**!!!THECOMEDIANIS**DEAD**!!!”

Silence.

Slowly, they released each other.

Their ears came back up again, and their tails relaxed.

Breathing deeply, Chip said,

“I'm sorry, Dale. I'm sorry for what happened to you-and Foxglove. If you need anything, I'm on the lower bunk.”

“Thanks, buddy. I'm glad I can count on you. And-I'm glad Foxglove was the *only* friend I lost.” Chip then saw Dale take his last issue of “The Red Badger Of Courage” and place it in the carton, along with his joke books, and his Iron Goose tapes. He then closed the carton and placed it neatly in a dark corner of the closet, in a dark corner of his life.

Neatly?

Dale then went to the bookshelf and asked,

“So, can I borrow one of your novels?”

“Uh, sure, just don't mess up the order they're-”

“I won't. And thanks.”

“Dale, again, I'm sorry I yelled at you, and for all that I said to you. And-you're *not* insignificant-you never were-never-”

“Forget it, pal, it's all in the past-all-in the past-” Dale then climbed on his bunk and prepared to read the novel while hanging from his ankles, but just as he reached that position, he blinked and said, “Oh, sorry. Old habit.” He raised himself up, sat on his bed, and began reading.

Chip looked at his best friend with low ears and tremendous sadness. Dale *had* killed himself. The Comedian was truly dead.

And a part of *him* had just died too, for some insane and unknown reason:

:and that reason was driving him insane, for it was unknown, and far beyond his own capacity of logic, analytical thinking, and deductive reasoning, to figure out what it was:

PENTE - A FUNERAL PYRE

Gadget tried to keep busy that day by modifying the design of an elevator she had planned on installing in the tree. And that was easier said than done, for even in her workshop she could hear yelling, screaming, and unintelligible chattering coming from the chipmunks' room. Things had quieted down now, almost too quiet. It had been several hours since Dale's shocking announcement, and Gadget had found herself weeping for him and Foxglove. It was something so sad, so terrible, so shocking, and the only worse thing she could think of happening was Foxglove being killed. But even so, she knew Dale *at least* had the advantage of having his friends, and his parents, for support, unlike *she* did on that awful day:

Frustrated by the fact that she no longer had a roommate and confidante and that she could not find any more flaws in her elevator design, she aggressively rolled up the blueprints and stuffed them on a shelf. She then decided to build a rodent-sized satellite dish, and as she did so, she realised that for the first time ever her inventions were not helping her forget.

Stiffening her tail, lowering her ears and slamming down a rodent-sized screwdriver on the table, she did her utmost effort to calm down. No one had been killed, no one was seriously injured, Fat Cat and his cronies had been defeated once again-

*So why do I feel as if Dale and Foxglove had died? Why did Dale say that a comedian was dead? Was he planning on killing himself? He wouldn't, not after he said he wanted to look for more cases, and if he was going to work, then he would soon be coming back to normal, but then everything wouldn't be normal without Foxy, which means that everyone will have to adjust again, which means that the new room will have to be used for something else, but I don't know *what* to do with it, not after Dale and Foxy were planning on using it, and I was so much looking forward to seeing them married and with cubs, and I don't think I can bring myself to modify the room, but maybe if I ask the others they would do it for me, but I don't know if Dale would want to, but then he said he was going to be a full blooded Rescue Ranger, without messing things up, so maybe he would, but after all he went through it probably wouldn't be a good idea-*

A knock on the door made Gadget jump off her chair.

“Um-c-come in,” she stuttered. Dale opened the door and entered the workshop. His heart hung heavily again when he remembered that this was the very same place where he finally made up his mind to propose to Foxglove.

“Are you busy, Gadget?”

“Golly, well, no, Dale, I was just trying to work on something but-but-” The muscid didn't know why she did this, but with low ears and tail, she ran to the sciurid, threw her arms around him, and began crying again. He embraced her too, though he did not cry anymore.

“Oh, golly, Dale-I'm so-sorry for you--and Foxy--I'm--sorry--”

It was all she could say, for her vocabulary promptly shut down and was replaced by bitter anguish and sadness for her friend, as if he had passed away.

“Gadget, I'm more sorry than anyone could ever be, but I had to do this. And, I have to move on.” Gadget then looked at his dark eyes and sniffed,

“Dale, you would have been a great husband for Foxglove. Was it really necessary to let her go?”

“I had to. I don't want her to get in danger anymore. And I won't get any of you guys in any more danger than necessary, either.” For ONE fleeting moment, she thought she finally understood, but that feeling only lasted ONE moment and was replaced again by total confusion. All she could ask was,

“S-so, a-are you going to be all right?”

“I hope so, but first I need to do somethin'. Chip told me you picked up the contract, the veil, and the ring after I fainted, right?”

“Y-yes, I did.”

“Good. I-will need them now.”

“Why, Dale, what are you go-”

“Gadget, please, I need them *now*.” Gadget, surprised by his ever-increasing seriousness, released him and went to her father's cabinet. She dialled the combination on the lock, rather clumsily, and opened the drawer. In it was the translator she had built last year, the one that nearly got Foxglove killed. She tried to blink back tears when she saw it, but it was no use. She fumbled around the drawer, unable to see clearly, but finally she felt the paper roll, the silk cloth, and the metal ring. Standing up straight, she padded over to her friend and handed them to him.

“Thanks, Gadget. Thanks for everythin'.” He was about to leave, but then he turned back to her and said, “Gadget, the other night I finally realised why you never chose me, and-you were right. And-I just want to apologise for competin' for your attention. I really did love you, but-you had your reasons, and they were right.”

“Dale-”

“I know you didn't want to hurt me or Chip, but-all you had to do was ask us to stop. We would have stopped-er-*I* would have, at least. And after all you went through, I would have understood if you didn't want a boyfriend just yet. Gadget, I'm sorry about your mom and dad, I'm sorry for hittin' on you, I'm sorry me and Chip forced you to choose between us, I'm sorry for the time I faked my injury back in New Zealand, I'm sorry for all the times I screwed things up, I'm sorry for makin' you build the new room, I'm sorry that the weddin' was called off, and I'm sorry you lost your roommate.” With each word that came from him, Gadget was growing more and more confused. Dale looked at her confused eyes for a moment, and then turned toward the door. But then he stopped again and said over his shoulder,

“But, please, you must know somethin', if you haven't already figured it out.”

“W-what?” Dale sighed,

“Gadget, Chip loves you. He really, *really* does. And-it would mean the world to him if you loved him too. But if you don't, or if you can't, then-please tell him that. I don't want to see him fightin' for you anymore, especially if he's goin' to lose. And if you say no, he'll understand. I know *I* would have:but, at least, give him a chance. He deserves that, and-you deserve a chance with him, too.” He sighed again, “You'll make him the happiest chipmunk on earth if you do, and-I'm sure you'll be very happy with him as well.” Gadget didn't know what to think. True, she may have feelings for one or both of them, and they may have been made even more clear the other night, but right now her thoughts and emotions were short-circuiting each other. Furthermore, her concern right now was for her close friend and what he was going to do with the contract in his paw: a document that plainly told the world that he and Foxglove would love each other forever; the veil: the symbol of a covering which only the husband could remove; and the ring: a symbol of their commitment and unity.

“Dale, where are you taking those?” They looked at each other, and from what Gadget could interpret, Dale's eyes, ears, and tail were telling her that *two* close friends of his had just died a horrible death.

“I'm goin' to a funeral, and I need to go by myself. Don't wait up for me. This will be the last time I deliberately stay up late. Good night.” Dale closed the door and left, leaving behind a confused mousemaid with only one word in her mind:

Funeral?

Funeral, indeed. It was past ten at night, and Dale was standing by himself at the edge of the pond, in the exact same spot where Foxglove was kidnapped three days ago. Just before he left Headquarters, he made a quick stop in the kitchen to get a safety match. Once outside, he had gathered the willow-leaf canopy and the foxglove wreath that had been left behind on that fateful evening, and had placed them on the ground. Now, picking up the safety match, he struck it against a stone, and held it high as it fizzled to life. The stench of sulphur filled his nostrils momentarily, but he held his breath and waited for a light breeze to clear up the air. Holding the match like a torch, he looked at the wedding artefacts in front of him.

His ears and tail were limp again.

This was more difficult than it seemed.

It is never easy to say good-bye, especially to a close friend. But this had to be done.

He closed his eyes and tossed the match.

Hearing the crackle of combustion and feeling the heat increase in front of him, he wondered if this was what Luke Skywalker felt when he set fire to Anakin's-Darth Vader's-body-

No.

Anakin had died because he rescued his son, and he never promised Luke that he would always be there for him. Furthermore, neither Anakin nor Luke ever fainted in the face of danger. Still, he just couldn't help but feel a parallel here. It would probably be the last one too, for he swore to himself that his imagination would never get the best of him again.

He then turned to his right and picked up the card Fat Cat had left him.

“On Your Wedding”

A worthy adversary, for if it weren't for Fat Cat keeping them on their toes, the Rescue Rangers would probably not be the efficient organisation it is now, AND he and Foxglove would have made the biggest mistake of their lives.

“A best friend and a worst enemy at the same time,” he mumbled. But the chipmunk would probably not be so forgiving on their next encounter.

He tossed the card in.

He then picked up the wedding contract and unrolled it.

*I, Dale Segoleh Oakmont, do hereby swear to love Foxglove with all of my heart, soul, and body, to protect her and provide a home for her, to be a husband to her, to be there whenever she needs me-*

He failed that test.

*:I, Foxglove, do hereby swear to love Dale with all my heart, soul, and body, to be a wife to him, to comfort him and support him, to be his helpmeet, to honour, obey, and respect him, to be there whenever he needs me, in all circumstances, from now until death do us part:*

It was settled. She had more than passed, and he had failed miserably.

He tossed the contract in.

“Good-bye, Segoleh.”

It was common in the old days for people (and animals) to change their names without much hassle. These days, however, it involved a lot of red tape, so when he had the time, he would go back upstate to make it legal. But as far as he was concerned, it was official as of now. Having thusly rejected the name that his parents bestowed upon him, Dale proceeded to acquire his new identity.

He had his new name ready.

And from this day forward he would now be known as Dale Hastahah Oakmont.

Picking up the veil, he imagined, for a moment, how it would have looked on Foxglove's head, and how her face would have filtered through it, and what her face would have looked like if he had ever got the chance to lift it.

He tossed the veil in.

“Good-bye, Foxglove.”

His heart burned with the same intensity as the pyre in front of him.

His parents' hearts were broken too, but there was no way out of this. He just hoped that Chip and Gadget would not have to go through what *he and Foxglove* went through. They deserved better; after all, they were the brains of this team.

He then took out the ring.

A gold ring, originally a link from a gold chain, hammered out and welded just for the occasion, and fitted with a string so it would hang in front of Foxglove's heart.

And gold doesn't burn.

He then took out *his* ring.

Tying both rings together, he grabbed the string, twirled the rings around until they were a blur, and with all his strength, threw them into the pond.

The rings then sank to the bottom of his heart:

“Good-bye, my cubs.”

He then turned back to the pyre, and reflected on what had happened.

He and Chip had moved to the city looking for adventure as crime-fighters, detectives, and rescuing in general. They had advanced a lot by themselves, and even more under Plato's tutorship, but the Klordane case was their “graduation”. In that case alone, they had travelled to the Arctic Circle and back, and on the way, they met their new friends and partners, not to mention they fell in love with the same girl. But one fine night, his clumsiness, and bubble gum, left them all hanging from a lamppost. Dale was the first to fall, but from out of nowhere a female bat swooped down and rescued him. It turned out that the batmaid had picked him up on her sonar and fallen in love with him at first “hearing”. After that case, Foxglove left but then came back, and she became an official Ranger. So, with Foxglove, the team was more or less complete, each with a special talent, and weakness as well. Chip, the leader and mastermind, could use deductive reasoning to figure out most cases. Gadget could probably build a nuclear reactor out of a microwave oven if she needed to. Monterey could probably beat up ten mice his size at the same time. Zipper could spy and retrieve information and slip in and out of places totally unnoticed, and was also well trained in personal combat, with his keen knowledge of physics and tricks of leverage. Foxglove could practically see in the dark and speak several languages now. And he, well, he was the wild card, the random factor. He could set up an attack plan almost instantaneously and most of the time it would work, seeing that no one, not even him, would be expecting it to go the way it normally went: unpredictably. However, Chip had the misfortune of having a *very* short temper, and he was at times unbearably arrogant. Gadget was very naÔve and would sometimes lose track of what she was doing, and she STILL had not recovered from her father's death. Monterey had his cheese reflex, as well as his rushing into fights. Zipper was too small to cause much damage in case he needed to attack at a large number of enemies. Foxglove was sometimes obsessed with learning new things, or just plainly, with him. And he, well, he had an imagination on overdrive, he stayed up late, he was easily distracted, he learned slowly sometimes, he had trouble figuring out even the simplest clues, he said stupid things all the time, but most of all, he fouled things up *all the time*. But, then, didn't everyone screw up once in a while too? Chip, as the leader, would sometimes make wrong decisions, but even with knowing all the facts, that was possible, and it was never deliberate. Gadget's inventions failed most of the time, but technology wasn't perfect, and she, too, did not do so deliberately. Monterrey's reflex was also beyond his control, and it wasn't Zipper's fault that he was so small. Foxglove couldn't help being obsessive; she used to be a loner and needed to learn many things the rest learned long ago. So, it all came down to him. Whenever he got distracted, it was by *his* choice. Whenever he stayed up late, it was by *his* choice. Whenever he fooled around, it was by *his* choice.

*His* deliberate choice, and his alone.

His fault.

Perhaps, an outlet for his feelings of insignificance.

But whenever he chose to fool around, the others often found themselves in more danger than necessary, and often they needed to rescue *him*, besides themselves, too. And even with Foxglove, his randomness had decreased, but not totally disappeared. It had levelled off, sort of speak, but it was still present nonetheless.

And it was because of it that he had failed Foxglove and the Rangers.

*Being a comedian is fun, but it doesn't come in handy when fightin' the bad guys. It just gets in the way, and it can bring danger to all of us; it can get us killed. Sure, there are times for laughin', but laughin' doesn't help much in solvin' cases. Clowns and detectives don't mix too well.*

He picked up the rodent-sized joke book, “1,001 Jokes For All Occasions”. Though he had others, he chose this one as the symbolic one, the one that would mark the severing of his old profession. He did not bring his comic books, since he planned on selling them later on, for a good price. Furthermore, he had practically memorised every single joke from this book in particular by now.

He tossed the book in.

“Good-bye, Comedian.”

No more jokes, no more wisecracks, no more stupid comments, nothing.

Dale simply couldn't look at this sight in particular, so he hung his head as the book slowly turned to ashes. The dancing flames played a few tricks on the flower pattern of his shirt, and for a while, Dale examined each and every single flower. Ever since he laid eyes on this shirt, he *knew* that it said “Dale”. The Hawaiian theme proclaimed the fun lifestyle he practised, and the vivid colours reflected his desire to be noticed, and, if possible, to make others laugh.

Dale pulled off his shirt, and looked at it.

*Orange and yellow are nice colours, but they can stick out if we need stealth. They can give us away _big time_.*

He tossed his shirt in.

“Good-bye, Dale. You were a fun guy to be with, and I will miss you. I really *do* wish there was another way, but you simply have no place with the Rescue Rangers anymore. And it's necessary for this curse to end here and now. I will not put Foxglove in danger, and no grandcub of mine will go through what me and my grandfather went through.” As the fire continued to burn, Dale reached down and picked up the other shirt he had brought here. It was an average T-shirt, no designs, no patterns, just dark grey all over, much like his father's. It had pockets, but it was doubtful he would need them, for he had already decided to leave all unnecessary ballast behind whenever they went out on a case. No more bubble gum, no more candy, no more junk food, but above all, no more chocolate.

He put on his new shirt.

Hastahah.

The guys were most certainly going to grind their incisors over this, but there was simply no other way.

His new shirt blended somewhat with his brown fur, and even more so in the dark. It wouldn't give them away so easily now. He then turned to the pyre again, and contemplated it for a while. His gaze then drifted from the flames up to the sky, where the parts of his life were being dispersed. He saw the moon above him, and wondered if Foxglove was also looking at the moon.

A flashback from the movie “An American Tail” triggered a song within him:

“*Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight

Someone's thinkin' of me, and lovin' me-*”

He abruptly stopped himself, quivering momentarily. His imagination almost took control of him again. True, maybe Foxglove was looking at the moon right now, and maybe she was thinking about him too. That she loved him more than life itself was something he already knew, for he loved her too, and that's why he had released her. But all of that was irrelevant now. The song then went on to say that if love could see them through, then they would be together:

:somewhere out there:

But they both knew that in their case in particular, love would actually keep them apart, protecting Foxglove from harm, and protecting his descendants from a family curse. And maybe, somewhere out there, they *would* meet again, and he would greet Foxglove and her husband and their cubs, and he would feel happy for them because he would know that his decision had indeed been the correct one.

He then looked down to the pyre again. He *really* would have to stop looking at the sky like that. And he would have to deal with those movie flashbacks, too. From now on, he would be a top-notch serious detective and Rescue Ranger. The Comedian, Romeo, and Entertainment Expert were now dead.

“:you can't change who you really are inside:”

Monterey, unfortunately, would be proven wrong. Perhaps one can't change who they really are, but circumstances can surely change *you*.

He continued to gaze at the dying flames, with his heart burning with pain, anger, and sadness.

But he did not cry.

Nor did his ears or tail change position.

He would not cry anymore, either:

HEX - A SEARCH CONTINUES

“*:someone's saying a prayer
that we would find one another
in that big Somewhere Out-*”

Foxglove caught herself singing that song under her breath again. This time, however, she could have sworn that Dale was singing it with her.

How she wished she had never seen that movie with him!

How she wished at least to have never heard that song!

How she wished she could stop herself from dreaming about him EVERY DAY!

How she wished those dreams were AT LEAST just a trifle more G-rated!

How she wished her parents were here to comfort her in this time of horrible pain!

HOW SHE WISHED SHE HAD NEVER BEEN BORN--!!!

Gasping at this last wish, she broke out of her trance, and tried to re-establish reality. After some careful grooming, Dale's tears and scent had been removed from herself, but that had not helped much. Otis, meanwhile, had helped her in looking for bats that had lost young ones, but that first night did not bring any luck. They had flown to Liberty Island, and Otis had gone inside the Statue of Liberty to speak with the chiropterids. She had perched herself just under the base of the crown, and was waiting for him. She then contemplated the city, and on how beautiful it looked, and then wished for Dale to be here to see it with her, then she looked at the moon, then she remembered that movie, then she remembered that song-

Shaking herself back to here and now, Foxglove wondered how long she would have to wait until she was able look at the moon, and sunrises and sunsets, without thinking about Dale. And just what *did* that song have to do with them, anyways? In that movie, a brother and sister were singing it to each other with the hope of finding each other again. Foxglove did *not* need to find Dale; she knew exactly where he was, or where to wait for him in case he was not there. Also, Dale was *definitely* not her brother. And an accident separated those two, not an attack by a horrible villain. It was also doubtful that any of the other Rangers were “saying a prayer” for them to get back together. Furthermore, neither she nor Dale “wished upon a star” anymore, much less the same one. And they *definitely* did not sleep “underneath the same big sky”. Dale slept under a dark sky, and she slept under a blue one.

*So why does that song keep playing inside my HEAD--!!!!!*

“Foxglove!!”

“Uh, what? Oh, Otis, I didn't hear you roost.”

“Foxglove, are you all right? You were looking at the sky as if you had lost something there.”

*I did,* she sighed. “Um, well, sorry, Otis, I was just nightdreaming again. Did you find out anything?”

“Well, there were five couples and three single mothers in there that say they have lost a pup, but four couples and one mother say they lost a *male* pup. The other couple says they lost a girl, but that was out at sea. The other two mothers told me they lost a daughter, but that it happened five years ago. Too recently, I presume?”

“Yes,” she replied, sagging in disappointment. “And those were all the bats that lived in the statue?”

“Yup.”

“And none of them know any other bats who lost a girl pup?”

“One mother mentioned a sister that lives in Queens, and another told me of someone who lives in Harlem. Where do you wanna check first?”

“Well, first, I think we should eat. Those moths by the spotlights look rather tasty!!”

“Okay. But-Foxy??” She held her breath for a moment. This was the first time he had called her “Foxy”.

“Y-yes?”

“*Are* you all right? You seem rather sad, and you haven't gone back to the park since yesterday. Is-is something wrong?” Foxglove had to think fast. Her excuses were rapidly running out of convincing power, and Otis was asking too many questions.

“Um-oh-well, you see, I-the others told me to take my time. It's obvious that they're planning a big surprise for me when I get back. And-I miss Dale, that's all.”

“Oh. I see.” Though her last statement was more than true, it was obvious that Otis was getting more and more suspicious now. He was about to release himself when Foxglove said,

“Otis?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for your help. I really, *really* appreciate it.”

“You're welcome. But do you think it *really* is a good idea *not* to show yourself to the bats and having *me* ask the questions?”

“Otis, I don't want to give anyone false hopes by making them *think* they have found their daughter. I think it's better this way.”

“Okay, you're right. Now let's get those moths before they run out, shall we?” With that, they released themselves and fluttered down to the spotlights. As they did, Foxglove couldn't help but notice that Otis' voice was soft and deep, and that his musculature was quite evident, and that his membranes were dark, very dark, and that his brown eyes were deep and expressed friendship to all, and that his sonar sounded *very* interesting-

*He's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother:* she mantraed to herself. She would NOT fall in love again, much less with someone who thought she was engaged to someone else!

*He's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother, he's your brother:*

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