Good evening.

VORWORT

This here is the continuation of the *second* ending of “Let’s Suppose Chip And Dale Behaved Slightly Differently After The Kidnapping”, based on Roy Neal Grissom’s “Consummation”. This story is not so morbid, nevertheless, it *is* once again filled with angst, rejection, and denial…

So much that I would probably *also* rate this PG-13…

*******

“Marital Problems. They happen to the best of them.” — The J.A.M.

Tress MacNeille
Corey Burton
Tress MacNeille
Jim Cummings
Corey Burton
April Winchell as Foxglove

envision

I DREAM OF THE NEW RANGER

along with

James Earl Jones
and
Lisa Lougheed

special appearances by

Brian Cummings
Kathleen Helppie-Shipley
Henry Gibson
Jo Anne Worley
Alan Oppenheimer
Bill Scott
and Stan Freberg

Written by The J.A.M. (but please call me J.A.M.)

Edited by Karl Schenk

* Once again, to our beloved “Enduring Man-Child”, Roy Neal Grissom, without whom this story (and the two others) would have never existed. And, to the loving memory of Deborah Walley. *

*******

EINS - NIGHTMARES TO DREAM IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT…

Dale and Foxglove were running side by side in an open field, obviously enjoying each other's company, from the way their tails were quivering. It was an odd looking field, for though it was beautiful, with its rolling hills and scattered trees and small cliffs, the colours seemed unusually bright. Upon closer inspection, it would seem that all the flowers that carpeted the lush grass had a strange assortment of colours and structures. What appeared to be normal dandelions were actually dandelions in the shape of rose blossoms. The trees, too, appeared to be a mix of oak with beech bark. Neither Dale nor Foxglove appeared to notice these details, possibly because they were too busy noticing one another. Paw in wing, they dashed to and fro carelessly, joyfully, playfully, like young cubs, without a care in the world. Their gazes were fixed on each other’s eyes, into the innermost depths of each other’s souls, souls that belonged to each other, united by an unbreakable covenant, as the rings in his digit and her thumbclaw proclaimed. Suddenly, the bat lady released her hold on her love and was now airborne, flying higher and higher above him. The sound of Dale’s laughter resonated with passion inside her ears, and her laughter, too, was something that the chipmunk would never tire of hearing. The tamias continued to run as he suddenly recognised the game: the snatch dive. All he had to do was run as fast as he could before his pipistrell mate did a nosedive in an attempt to grab his shoulders with her foot-paws and snatch him off the ground. Simple enough, although sometimes Foxglove wondered if Dale “played to lose”. He had become quicker as of late, and many times, she missed by just a quarter of a millimetre. On those occasions she would come around even more determined and snatch him up, up, and away, sometimes throwing him up into the air where he would then do several acrobatic spins before she came around to catch him again. This was, of course, the most fun and exciting game either of them could ever think of, especially since most of the time it would lead to bigger and better things. On this occasion, however, the verspetilionid did indeed snatch the sciurid off the ground. She immediately pulled up and threw him into the air again, where he did a quadruple summersault before beginning his descent. Foxglove decided to try something new this time and instead of grabbing him by the shoulders or letting him grab her foot-paws, she grabbed on to his quivering tail. With a very surprised “Yelp!” the rodent suddenly lost control of his momentum and flung his limbs awkwardly about. This caused his chiropterid mate to lose her balance as well, and they both tumbled to the ground.

Not that they were high enough to cause any damage.

Instead, as they did on the night they met, they somehow managed to embrace in mid-air, and they fell together with a mix of a giggle and an “oof”. Before they could straighten up, they suddenly realised that they had fallen on the crest of a hill. While still embracing, they were now tumbling down the hill, out of control, and with each moment adding to their velocity. Neither of them appeared to mind, instead, they giggled more and more, and each had already made up their mind to do it again once they stopped. As they continued to tumble down the hill, they appeared to roll and bounce as a single ball of fur, albeit mixed with reddish-brown and dark brown, much the same way everything else around seemed to be a mix of some sort. There were no flashes of orange or yellow, however.

Dale wouldn’t be needing his shirt for a while, again.

Finally, they tumbled to a stop at the bottom of the hill, which was beside a small pond. After their eyeballs stopped rolling, each moved their head back a bit so as to see/hear the other’s face in its full glory. It did not matter that their fur was all out of place, or that blades of grass were now part of their scarce wardrobe; all that mattered was that they were with each other, here and now, joined by an everlasting love, by an everlasting covenant, and now, by what appeared to be an everlasting kiss.

Their passionate kiss led to a passionate embrace, which, as was mentioned before, led to bigger and better—

Dale’s eyelids fluttered open.

*Aw, nuts,* he thought to himself, realising that all the previous was just a dream, albeit a very interesting one. Reflex and experience kicked in, and he deliberately stopped himself from awaking fully, replaying in his memory the last scene in his dream in order to keep it going, lest he ruin it by having it restart in a different event, or even a different setting and story. Keeping his breathing slow, and his mental patterns simple (he had much practice on that last skill), his sleepy eyes turned to his wife, sleeping soundly next to him, with her wings wrapped fully around him, and her head on his chest, and her breaths making his fur tingle. He, too, had his arms snugly around her, as they both had plenty of practice embracing while manœuvring around her wing membranes. And it also seemed that the bat lady had managed to get the hang of sleeping horizontally. Now if only the chipmunk could learn how to sleep upside-down…

Dale and Foxglove had been married for five months now. While at first, the sight of a married chipmunk and bat being was in itself quite rare, what was even more rare was the fact that they were married after a set of extremely adverse circumstances. At first, it had been Dale’s tremendous shyness and the terror of thinking of never being either ready or worthy to handle a wife and family, accentuated by what he knew was immaturity on his part. Still, with help from the other Rangers, he finally managed to propose. Less than one hour before the wedding, unfortunately, Foxglove was kidnapped by Fat Cat, who attempted yet one more time to destroy the Rangers. Upon hearing the news of her capture, Dale fainted dead away and was immediately taken back to Headquarters while the rest set off to rescue Foxglove. When Dale awakened and was informed of what had happened, a fury overcame him such as he had never experienced before, and with friends and family as witnesses, he resolved to rescue Foxglove himself, with the option of killing the obese feline if it came to that. The other Rangers, meanwhile, had fallen into a trap, but when Dale arrived, along with several hundred bats; his attitude, as well as the felid’s superstitious beliefs, saved the day. Normally that would have triggered a positive emotional response, but it was during the rescue that Dale suddenly came to a reckoning of *why* Fat Cat had kidnapped Foxglove, of *what* he was getting her into, of *who* he really was, and *why* the others had left him behind. Everyone knew why Fat Cat wanted Foxglove: to use her to destroy the Rangers. Dale realised that he was getting Foxglove into a life of permanent danger, and that was something he wouldn’t allow. But it was the latter two reckonings that made him decide to not only cancel the wedding, but also to break off their relationship altogether.

Because he was a Goof-up.

A Klutz.

A Clown.

And a Comedian.

It was the Comedian, not the Rescue Ranger, who had fainted on Foxglove. The Comedian’s presence was detrimental to not only him and Foxglove, but also to the rest of the Rangers as well. His sudden reckoning made him see that every time something major was botched up during a case, it was practically always his fault, due to his constant lack of seriousness, his clowning around, his short attention span, and just plainly his happy-go-lucky personality. That night, Dale and Foxglove had a very morose discussion, filled with yells, tears, and desperation. He explained to her why he couldn’t marry her, and why he wanted to let her go. She, however, refused to accept his reasons, as logical as they sounded. With a strength of will she never knew she had, she stopped Dale from kissing her good-bye, and presented *her* arguments as to why she should stay with him, and why she was *going* to stay with him, regardless of danger or clowning around. She would take the whole package, Goof-up, Klutz, Clown, and Comedian included, than leave him and the Rangers and find a new life in a bat colony, as he had suggested. This *new* reckoning, that here was a female who would accept him no matter what, and that she had suffered more than he would wish on his worst enemy, suffered to be *with* him, was enough to redirect his decision and follow through with the wedding.

And that, to Dale’s parents, was the ultimate miracle. It seemed that the entire Oakmont line, from time immemorial, had been under a curse, in which every generation of males had some sort of disaster befall their brides just before their wedding, and with every alternate generation the disaster was catastrophic enough to have the male lose his bride, one way or another. Dale’s father, Pierre, had told him of how it happened to all the generations he could remember, and how *his* father had lost his first bride, and how *he himself* nearly lost Dalee, Dale’s mother. Dale had inwardly scoffed at this theory when he had his eyes on Gadget, but when he fell in love with Foxglove, and experienced *true* love, the “curse” began to haunt him again. When the kidnapping took place, he knew that it was because of the curse. He would lose Foxglove, and his son’s bride would have a disaster fall on *him*, and his grandson would lose his first bride one way or another. That had been another reason why he not only wanted to let Foxglove go, but also remain a bachelor for the rest of his days. He did not want anyone else to suffer that pain anymore, and the only way he could do that was to end the Oakmont line once and for all. Foxglove and he, however, fought the curse, and they had overcome. The batmaid refused to let him kiss her good-bye, refused to leave, and refused to let a vague chain of events decide her destiny. She would stay with her male, and whatever son they had, they would make sure that no disaster would fall upon him or *his* bride.

The curse had been broken, hopefully, once and for all.

It was difficult to say what would have happened if he *had* managed to kiss her good-bye…

They both often shuddered when that line of thought came to mind. What *would* have happened if she had left? What would have become of her, Dale, and the Rescue Rangers? Would she be happy living in a bat colony? Would Dale have become a top-notch Detective and Ranger, now that he had fully realised what was harming the team? What would have become of the Goof-up, the Klutz, the Clown, and the Comedian? Would they have been suppressed and let out only in moments of relaxation? Or would they have been gone for good? What would have Dale been like if he had destroyed those facets of his personality?

No one knew, and no one *wanted* to know. And everyone breathed with relief that no such turn of events ever happened. When Dale later told the rest what had happened and that he had been two seconds away from destroying 90% of his personality, everyone looked at him as if he had just attempted to murder someone. Monterey even made a very far-fetched theory, one he had mentioned to Dale before, that if he had indeed killed the Comedian in him, it would have been a matter of time before Dale himself physically *died*. Inwardly, Dale yet again scoffed at that theory. There was no way that by altering one’s personality one could bring onto oneself a premature death. But it was during that talk that Dale explained why he wanted to reform himself. He explained that he had suddenly come to terms with the harm he had done to the Rangers, but along that discussion, suppressed emotions were brought forth. Feelings of insignificance and pain due to the others’ rejection of his input, and even *fear* of his input, due to *their* fear of disaster whenever he was involved, were revealed. This brought even more tears, this time from the other Rangers, as they, too, were suddenly hit with the reckoning of how they had mistreated their friend and relegated him to the role of the Goof-up, Klutz, Clown, and Comedian, and not the Rescue Ranger he *really* wanted to be. Heartfelt apologies and requests of forgiveness followed that discussion, as well as round upon round of declarations of forgiveness and embraces.

A cleansing had occurred, one that had been much needed for sometime, one that *had* to happen before a new chapter began with the Rescue Rangers.

A new chapter not only with Foxglove and him, but also with Chip and Gadget. When the mousemaid was fully hit with the reckoning of how she had treated Dale, teasing mostly, she was so shocked by her own behaviour that she nearly collapsed right there. She, having suffered extreme emotional pain herself, had decided to do all she could to make sure others never felt the pain she did. So, when Dale told her about the incidents where he considered her actions hurtful, she felt as if yet another invention had gone haywire. But this, too, was resolved right there. And it was at that moment when she was finally freed of her own pain. With her own release, she felt as if her heart suddenly left her chest and rocketed over to the one who had made a particular declaration to Fat Cat on the night of the kidnapping: a declaration of sacrifice: his life for the others. The sudden idea of losing Chip, with no loopholes in any gypsy-generated prediction, made her realise what she had suppressed for a long time. After the Oakmont’s wedding, Chip and Gadget began dating. The beginning was slow, as they both had still many barriers to bring down, but they were coming along nicely.

While this was happening, the Oakmont’s honeymoon was spent in Puerto Vallarta, Jalisco, Mexico, and now, five months later, the couple had adjusted to their duties as Rangers, and to their duties to one another. With the beginning of autumn, however, it appeared that Foxglove was getting more and more active, matrimonially speaking, as she (and verified by an encyclopædia) had foretold.

Not that Dale minded.

In fact, today had been a particularly active day, and both were sound asleep due to their previous efforts, up to the point when Dale awakened from his dream. He sleepily wondered why he had a dream of that kind again. He used to have them at regular intervals (like any full-blooded male or female did), and they had stopped right before the honeymoon, since, logically, he didn’t need to dream anymore, as he had the real thing right next to him now.

“……Luceeeeeeeeeelle……” he mumbled.

As he felt his consciousness fading away again, he hugged her tighter, eliciting a soft chirr on his part, which was answered by a loving ultrasonic shrill on hers. Maybe he’d get some ideas…

Chipmunk and Bat Lady now laid flat on their backs, beside each other, quite fatigued, yet happy, as their exhausted tails showed. Panting heavily, with their tongues hanging out, they were gazing/echosounding at each other’s eyes, with blissfully insane expressions. Neither could say a word. Not that they needed to at this point, of course. Paw in wing, they waited patiently for their brains to come back on-line. An indeterminate time later, the tamias sat up, and helped the pipistrell sit up. He gently kissed her thumbclaw, and she did the same to his thumb digit. He was about to suggest rolling down the hill again (and maybe falling into the lake), when something quite strange interrupted him.

Out of nowhere, music began playing.

It sounded a bit Latin, tropical even. Both looked/echosounded around to see where it was coming from, but there were no speakers of any kind anywhere. Also out of nowhere, a male voice began to sing:

“*We’re in the Land of Wuz, we’re having tons of fun,

‘Cause every single thing is really two in one.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that.

And when you add it up, you get a lot of laughs!*” Both stood up at this point, extremely alarmed. And both were wondering if they had been too daring and involved with each other to notice if anyone was watching or hearing them in their private moments.

“*Oo, they have originality.

Living with a split personality!

We’re the Wuzzles!

Oo yeah!

We’re the Wuzzles!

Oh ho, yeah!

Two times the fun, wrapped up and rolled into one—!*” Both began backing away from the lake, but they didn’t seem to be able to get away from the music. Dale suddenly had the feeling of having heard this song before, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where or when. The chorus repeated,

“*Oo, they have originality.

Living with a split personality!

We’re the Wuzzles!

Oo yeah!

We’re the Wuzzles!

Oh ho, yeah!

Two times the fun, wrapped up and rolled—

Into one!!*” The music ended, leaving the couple bewildered.

“Cutie, what’s a Wuzzle?”

“Uhh, I was about to ask you the same thing. That, and ‘what’s the Land of Wuz?’” Yet another disembodied voice began speaking again, scaring them quite severely,

“Welcome to the Land of Wuz. It looks like another perfect day for the Wuzzles, and it looks like they’re going to meet new friends today.”

“Who said that?” asked the verspetilionid, completely dumbfounded, as it sounded to her that the voice was coming from all directions at once. The sciurid shouted at the air,

“Hey!! Who are you?? Where is this place? Who are you talkin’ about? What friends??”

“DALE!!” He looked at his wife, and saw her staring/echosounding in fright at the distance. He turned in the direction she was looking/echosounding at, and saw—

“Hey, look! Newcomers!!” At first, the rodent didn’t know whether to grab his wife and run, have his wife grab *him* and fly away, or greet these creatures, because to him, they were most definitely aliens. The chiropterid padded up behind him and held him tight, using him for protection. The creatures noticed their ruffled fur and flattened ears, so they stopped their approach.

“Oh, don’t be afraid. We’re quite peaceful. We were on our way to have a picnic and we saw you here,” said one of them. At this point, the couple blushed like never before.

“Uhhhh, you *saw* us?” asked Dale, incredibly bashfully. “H-h-h-how long did you know we were here?”

“Well,” replied one of the others, quite clearly a female, “we wouldn’t have noticed you if you hadn’t stood up.”

Foxglove padded a bit to the side and asked, also quite bashfully, “Y-you mean you didn’t see or hear anything before that?” Another creature with a slightly goofy voice replied,

“No. Should we have?” The couple sighed in relief, and their blushing subsided. “But what kind of Wuzzles are you? I don’t remember seeing any of your kind around here.”

“Wuzzles? We’re not Wuzzles,” replied Dale, as his ears perked up again, wondering why this creature would call him a word he had never heard before. “And we were about to ask you the same question. Who and what are you guys?”

“We’re Wuzzles. I’m Bumblelion.” The Rescue Ranger suddenly realised what he was looking at. It was clearly a lion with a purple mane, but his abdomen had thick alternating yellow and brown horizontal stripes across it, like a bee’s, or a bumblebee’s, abdomen. He also had a pair of antennæ coming out of his forehead, and small tufts of fur on each tip. On his back was a pair of insect wings, though by their small size the Comedian and his wife doubted if they provided any significant lift. “These are my friends, Eleroo—” Taller than the others, he was a grey kangaroo with an elephant’s head and yellow hair on it, and also fitted with insect wings. And though he was a male, the bat lady wondered why he had a marsupial *pouch*, which was normally reserved for female marsupials. The pouch also had alternating light and dark purple bands. “Butterbear—” She was a yellow female bear with a white abdomen, with long antennæ, and flower-like structures at their tips, and with the largest set of colourful wings, in fact, they were clearly butterfly’s wings, which enabled her to hover and fly accordingly. “Mooseal—” He was a male blue-grey seal with pink antlers, and also fitted with wings. He had grey hair and abdomen. His front flippers were more of a hoof-paw type, while his rear flippers remained strictly pinniped, and pink. “Rhinokey—” He was a male pink South American monkey, or he at least had the head, arms, torso, and tail of one, but he had a large horn on his nose, and his foot-paws looked more ungulate than simian. His hair was a light orange, and his horn, for some reason, alternated red and yellow horizontal stripes. He too, had insect wings. “And Hoppopotamus.”

“But just call me ‘Hoppo’, darling!” She was a blue-grey female hippopotamus with blue hair, *very* big and wide, and the only hints of her being another mix of species was her large blue cotton ball tail, her blue abdomen, her long ears, her buckteeth, long whiskers, and her wings. She seemed a trifle flirtatious, with the way she kept batting her eyelashes at Bumblelion, but he appeared to have his sights on Butterbear.

And then Dale noticed another anomaly. He knew that butterflies and bumblebees were insects, and insects were very small creatures, smaller than bats and chipmunks. However, rabbits are a trifle bigger than bats and chipmunks, and monkeys and seals are even bigger than that, kangaroos are a trifle bigger, lions and bears are even bigger, moose, hippos, and rhinoceroses are bigger still, and the largest of all are the elephants—

—and for some reason, he, Foxglove, Bumblelion, Butterbear, and Mooseal, were all the same size. It wasn’t clear whether Rhinokey was taller because his hind legs were always bent and he was always hunched over, and Eleroo and Hoppo were only one-and-a-half heads above the rest. He glanced around a bit, trying to find something that would give him any kind of size reference, preferably a tree, to see if either Foxglove and he had been enlarged, or if the Wuzzles had shrunk themselves to speak to them eye-to-eye. But the nearest tree was too far away to make a definite comparison.

“Hey, you’re the strangest creatures I’ve ever seen, not counting Hoppo’s family, of course.” Rhinokey laughed at his own little joke, something that went against all of what Dale knew to be proper comedy.

“Strange? What do you mean by ‘strange’? You should talk!”

“Cutie, I think that given the circumstances, we look just as strange to them as they do to us.” Foxglove said that after she had a sudden flashback of one of the myriad of Dale’s movies. Her husband, too, suddenly remembered plenty of stories in which the main characters would visit a new land or planet, and the locals there would be incredibly strange, but then the locals would also label the newcomers as being incredibly strange. This prompted another line of thought in Dale’s mind. If both groups thought that each other were incredibly strange, it was because they had never seen any of their kind before. And with the Wuzzles being in their home turf, that would mean—

“Uh, what planet is this?” asked the tamias, suddenly apprehensive of the entire situation. Perhaps aliens, namely, Ditz and his friends, had kidnapped the couple. Perhaps they were dropped off on this planet, and had their most recent memories erased so they couldn’t remember the trip. Or perhaps this was all just a weird dream.

“Planet?” asked Eleroo. “Why do you ask that? Why would this planet be any other?”

Oh dear.

“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” whispered the rodent to his wife, low enough to have her hear him with her ultra-sensitive hearing.

“Hey, are you saying you’re from another planet?” asked Mooseal. “How did you get here? And what are you doing here?”

“Yeah, are you on a mission?” asked Butterbear. For some reason, the pipistrell replied,

“We’re from Planet Earth. Three alien friends of ours told us this would be a great place to go on vacation, and so they took us here.” Something was wrong. Dale did not have any recollection of speaking with Ditz or his friends about any vacation plans. Before he could reply with a “huh?” Foxglove continued, “We aren’t on any mission, we were just—uh—” Here, the bat lady blushed tremendously again, “Kinda—um—horsing around.” Odd, it was very unlike his wife to label their private moments in such an equine fashion. He was about to make a few comments himself but Hoppo interrupted him,

“Horsing? What’s a horse?” That was most definite proof that they were in another planet. But before either of them could begin to describe horses in general, the disembodied voice boomed out again,

“Oh-oh. It looks like something is going to ruin everyone’s perfect day.” The couple turned and looked/echosounded all around, trying to find the speaker, but there was none in the area.

“Who said that?” asked Dale.

“Who said what?” asked Eleroo. The couple looked at the Wuzzles with unbelief.

“What do you mean ‘who said what’?” asked Foxglove. “That voice just now! The one who said, ‘it looks like something is going to ruin everyone’s perfect day’!”

“Yeah, he even sounded like a narrator, or somethin’!” added Dale. “He was talkin’ just before you got here, and he even said we were goin’ to meet someone today! He’s kinda narratin’ all the events around here!”

“And the voice seems to be coming from everywhere at once! I can’t track its source!”

“Track its source?” asked Rhinokey.

“What are you talking about?” asked Bumblelion. “We didn’t hear anywuzzle—” The conversation was suddenly interrupted by what sounded like a mix between a shriek and a chatter, only it was in the bass rage, and it had a volume level of about 100 decibels.

“WHAT WUZ THAT????!!!!” yelled the Wuzzles, while the couple said “was” instead of “wuz”, and they were too busy screaming themselves to notice the others’ change in vocabulary, particularly Foxglove, who had to cover her ears due to the intensity of the sound. Ears fell flat and tails stiffened.

STOMP

The ground shook.

*STOMP*

And the lake beside them formed ripples accordingly.

Dale’s mind was in a flux. If they were on another planet, how did Godzilla follow them? Or, whoever was doing all the stomping was clearly ripping off the movie—

**STOMP!!!**

“Over at the town!!” roared-buzzed Bumblelion, while pointing at the direction of the stomping. All turned toward his indicated direction, and gasped. Neither Dale nor Foxglove knew they were near any town, much less any town near a coast. But what they did see was indeed a medium-sized seaport city, with buildings of bright colours.

And it seemed that the seaport was being rampaged by something quite clearly out of one of Dale’s movies.

Except, of course, that Dale had never seen a monster such as this one. Even so, he wondered just why he had a nagging feeling of *having* seen this monster before.

In the middle of the town stood a creature of some 100 metres in height. It almost looked like a chipmunk, or a ground squirrel, at least, for it had the hind legs and torso of such a rodent (only much larger and much more muscular), except that it was covered with reddish-brown fur. As the monster turned to crush some buildings on its left, they saw that it had a double white stripe on its back, and a black stripe in the middle, which extended from the neck to the tail. The tail had a thin translucent membrane connecting it to both legs, and when the monster raised its arms, they saw that it, too, had membranes attaching them to its torso and upper thighs.

The membranes were so *bat-like*…

Because instead of having normal chipmunk paws, the fingers were long and thin, with long claws extending from their tips.

The monster turned around, and all saw its face.

Its *horrible* face.

Its ears were huge and triangular, like a bat’s. Rodent incisors grew down from its short muzzle, but right beside them were long fangs as well.

Its right eye was dark brown.

And its left eye was blue-violet.

“A Batmunk…” whispered Butterbear, but for some reason everyone heard her. The Batmunk continued stomping all over the city, destroying everything in its path. Foxglove could now hear the terrified screams of the residents.

“Dale! That thing’s destroying everything and killing everyone in the town!!” For some reason, the Batmunk turned and faced them. And it began walking in their direction.

“Well, it ‘wuz’,” said Eleroo. “It’s leaving the town now.” And it only took five steps to leave the razed city behind. Suddenly calculating its new trajectory, Mooseal bellowed-barked,

“AND IT’S HEADING THIS WAY!!!” At this point, everyone turned and ran/flew/hopped as fast as they could. Foxglove grabbed her husband by his shoulders and took off flying at a speed she never thought possible. After a few moments, Dale looked behind and saw that the Wuzzles had run/flown/hopped off in different directions, but the monster was quite clearly following *them*. Another shriek-chatter pierced the air. Suddenly, Butterbear flew past them, screaming,

“This is all your fault!!” Quite shocked at this accusation, Dale’s fur bristled as he countered,

“What do you mean ‘our fault’???!!! We just got here! We’ve never seen that thing before in our—”

“**DAAAAAAAAADDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY……!!!!**”

The booming voice seemed to come out from the pit of Hell itself.

“Huh?” asked the verspetilionid.

“**DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY……!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**”

“Foxy, I think that thing’s lookin’ for its father!” deduced the sciurid. Looking back for a moment, the pipistrell decided to pick up more speed.

“But why is it after *us*, then??!!” The tamias looked back, and saw that the Batmunk was now clearly running and flapping its wing-arms, and crushing everything in its path in the process. His membranes were causing enormous wind gusts all over the place as well, with near-hurricane force.

And then, it began to fly.

Dale felt all his blood leave his body. Despite its size, and a lack of efficient aerodynamics, this thing was now *airborne*.

*And heading toward them.*

“**DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY……!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**”

The bat lady tried to ride a wind gust, when suddenly something hit them from behind, causing her to lose her grip on the chipmunk. He screamed, naturally, but before he realised he was falling, he was suddenly grabbed by something, BIG and COLD. Looking around himself, he suddenly realised that he was now in the paw-wing of the Batmunk. He glanced to and fro in desperation, trying to find his mate, but she was nowhere in sight. The Batmunk then brought Dale closer to its face, causing him to scream his lungs out again. The giant Wuzzle then cocked its head a bit, gave the most horrific frown Dale had ever seen, and its voice boomed,

“**DADDY…………………WHY………DID………YOU…MAKE…ME…THIS…WAY?????!!!!!**”

It was here when everything seemed to click. It was there, and yet it was not there. Along the features of the monster’s face, Dale saw them. He saw his *own* features.

Not to mention *Foxglove’s*.

They were there, but they were mixed so randomly and so haphazardly that Dale never knew that his and Foxglove’s face could be combined to form something so hideous—

This thing was THEIR child?

Odd, he didn’t remember Foxglove getting pregnant, especially because they were barely in their first year as a married couple, and much less pregnant with something so big.

Unless, of course, someone got a hold of their DNA, combined it, altered it, and created this monster—

Norton Nimnul!!

Of course!! Nimnul MUST have been the one who created this thing! But, how did he send it to this planet? And why did this thing think *Dale* was the one at fault?

Before he could explain this to his “cub”, the Batmunk lifted its wing-paw as high as it could—

—and slammed Dale into the ground.

Dale’s scream echoed throughout the land of Wuz, and all over his room as he suddenly hit the wooden floor beside his bed. In an instant, Foxglove was kneeling beside him, ears low, and holding him close.

“Dale!!” she exclaimed. “Are you all right?” It took a few moments for the chipmunk to realise that he was surrounded by wood again. The scent of oak filled his nostrils; he began calming down, and his breathing slowed just enough to prevent him from hyperventilating. Then, the sweet night-misty scent of his bat wife filled his olfactory bulb, and it acted like a tranquilliser. He closed his eyes and focused on her scent, which was also mingled with his own. “Nightmare, Cute Stuff?” Dale had nightmares plenty of times before, but none were as scary as this one. He sat up a trifle, put his arms around her, and buried his muzzle in her stomach, as if he was seeking motherly protection. Her warm body soothed his throbbing left temple, and his ears and tail relaxed.

Foxglove raised her ears, and for a moment, felt very mother-like. She was comforting and soothing someone who had just gone through a horrible experience. Then she realised that it was her *husband* she was dealing with, and for a moment she felt like giggling when he embraced her and pressed his muzzle against her abdomen. One moment after that, she snapped out of her lascivious thoughts and realised that this was not exactly a romantic moment. She wrapped her wings around him and held him close.

“Honey, are you all right?” The chipmunk did not reply. Instead, he hugged her tighter, trying to slow down his breathing and heart rate. The feel of his wife’s wing membranes around him, and not the monster’s cold wing-paws, also had a soothing effect on him. The bat lady looked/echosounded down at him for a moment, and heard a rather large bump on his right temple, obviously caused by his fall from the bed. “Aww, Cute Stuff, did we have a bad nightmare and fall off the bed and make a big boo-boo on your head? Here, let me take care of it.” She leaned down and kissed lightly the bump on the rodent’s head. He sighed with relief, and the pain actually went down for a moment.

“Uh, thanks, Foxy, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He looked up at her, but was unable to focus on her beautiful face, due to the lack of light in their room. Hearing his eyes squinting, the chiropterid leaned back and turned on the lamp beside their bed.

And when the light came on, Dale saw that horrible face looking down at him once more.

He jumped back, screaming, laying his ears back and stiffening his tail, trying to get away from the monster, the horrible monster, the monster who was now wincing and trying to unstop her ears with her wingtips, the monster who had somehow shrunk to his size and was now currently in the shape of—

His wife?

Standing up, he shook himself, trying to return to the real world. The bump on his head made him dizzy for a moment, and he held his paw to his head.

“Um, sorry, Foxy, I—um—the way the lamp made a shadow on your head made you look like somethin’ I just dreamed about—ouch.” His wife stood, laying back her ears again, a little surprised by that comment.

“What? Are you saying I look like a monster?”

“Uh, NO!! No, you *don’t* look like a monster! It was the monster who looked like you—I mean—uh, it was a trick of the light—um—” He calmed down for a moment, as he took a good look at his beautiful wife. “Um, Foxy, I just had the weirdest and scariest nightmare. I—I—” Should he tell her what it was? Should he tell her that it had to do with their cub? “—I—can’t remember it right now, but I think it had to do with either Godzilla, or a dragon, or both.” He winced as he kept on rubbing his head. Foxglove put her wings on her hips and raised one eyebrow,

“Well, now that’s really strange. Why would you have a nightmare now? The last monster movie you saw was last week, and I think it had to do with a boat-eating shark, not a giant lizard.” Then she raised her ears again, and her voice turned soft and sensual. “And I don’t recall anything happening here that would have frightened you in the least bit, now did it?” Her tail swished. The tamias giggled nervously for a moment and mumbled,

“Just round twelve—”

“WHAT??!!”

“I said it’s just around twelve o’clock that I get nightmares, Foxy!” he recovered, still keeping his ears back. “And—and—I guess with all the re-arrangements we’ve done—well, I guess they miss me, and they came back with a vengeance. That, or Godzilla’s finally catchin’ up to me. I just hope I didn’t break anythin’ fallin’ out of bed.”

“Well, now, we’d better make sure.” The pipistrell padded forward a trifle and echosounded him from top to bottom. She knew that this was a serious matter, sort of, so she tried *very hard* not to focus on any one spot in particular, in order to make sure that he *really* didn’t have any broken bones, or sprained joints. Nevertheless, it was precisely his echolocation profile that had caused her to fall heads-over-heels in love with him in the first place, so keeping her mind on the task at wing was not exactly easy. Still, she managed to scan him fully, and upon realising that there were indeed no broken bones or sprained joints, a naughty look crept on her face as she *continued* to echosound him. *Not* getting aroused by this was a near impossibility. His entire body was like the greatest song she had ever heard, and one she would not mind hearing over and over again. “No broken bones here,” she said, still in her sensual manner, one that practically always made Dale melt. “So don’t worry about your nightmares, Cute Stuff. If Godzilla comes back, and if he tries to hurt you, I’ll destroy him by waking you up! And, to make sure you don’t have nightmares again tonight, well, I know of a way to take our minds off—scary things—and put them on more—lovely things, maybe?” She padded up to him, ears perked up and tail in a blur, and took hold of his right paw. Bringing it up to her face, she placed a gentle kiss on his thumb digit, making Dale shiver pleasantly. Then, she placed her wings on his shoulders. Yup, it was autumn, and all the floodgates had been opened. Dale thought she was already satisfied for tonight, but obviously, his rude awakening had triggered everything all over again. He wondered how he was going to last the remaining three months…

But it wasn’t as if he was being put through any torture; after all, as her husband, he enjoyed everything as much as she did. He was a little tired, of course, but he could compensate. With an evil grin of his own, he hugged her and spun themselves around, so she was now facing the light. And he leaned over to kiss her—

He released her and backed away. He had no idea why, but he had to back off. His fur bristled, his ears would not perk up, and his tail wouldn’t relax.

Foxglove noticed the sudden frightened look on his face. Was she pushing him too far?

“What?” she asked. Dale wasn’t sure what was happening, and he had to think of something very fast.

“Ummm…nothin’—” He looked around, trying to figure out why he was trying to get away from her. He had to change the subject somehow. His experience with randomness kicked in as he looked at the watch on the wall.

4:23

“Uhhh, are you hungry?” She grinned even more evilly and giggled still more evilly,

“He he he, you might say that, Cute Stuff!” Oh dear.

“No, I mean, hungry for food! Insects!” The chiropterid looked/echosounded quizzically at her rodent mate, and stopped her advances.

“Why?” Even more randomness kicked in.

“Um—well—Foxy—you’ve looked a bit down lately?”

“Down?!” she asked, quite incredulously, and lowering her ears momentarily. “Dale, I’ve never been happier or had so much fun in my life! What makes you think I’ve been feeling down?”

Think, think, think!!

Dale looked down, and tried to appear ashamed, “Well, Foxy—um—you’re a bat. Bats eat at night. They like eatin’ insects and flyin’ around. I know you’ve done that all your life, until we got married.” He sighed, and sat on the bed. “Foxy, I know you love me and you’ve enjoyed the past five months, especially this one. I’ve enjoyed it too, but—but—”

“What, Dale?” she asked, full of concern, stilling her tail, laying her ears back fully, and sitting beside him, wrapping a concerned wing around his shoulders. He unconsciously shifted away a bit.

“Foxy, I feel like I’m takin’ advantage of you. You’ve been here every night since we came back from Mexico, and—and—I feel like I’m keepin’ you cooped up in this room, and it almost feels like I’m keepin’ you in a cage!” The bat lady gasped. “Foxy, I can’t stop you from bein’ a bat, and—and—I really should have been more considerate of your needs. I’ve—been really selfish with you, havin’ you here every night, instead of lettin’ you go feed and fly like you normally do. Foxy, I’m so sorry…” The chipmunk turned away from her. Foxglove, meanwhile, could not believe her ears. Here she was, having the time of her life every single night, and *he* was being selfish?

“Dale, *what* are you talking about? You haven’t kept me cooped up in here! Dale, if I’m here every night it’s because *I* want to. *I want* to be with you. It’s really sweet of you to think of me like that, but you don’t have to feel guilty about it! I’d gladly spend every night in here, as long as I’m with you! I don’t mind at all! I don’t miss flying and feeding one bit! And,” she scooted closer to him and cooed, “do you know why?” Her ears perked up, and her sensual voice came back as she put her wings on his shoulders again. “Because I’ve found something better.” She looked/echosounded deeply into his eyes. “I’ve found something that is much better than flying or feeding. Dale, flying is nothing compared to what we’ve shared. You, Dale, *you* make me fly higher than I ever could. We’ve flown together so high, Dale, and I never had to use my wings one bit.”

“Oh?” he asked, raising one eyebrow, and with a sensual tone himself.

“Well, you know what I mean,” she giggled. “But really, Dale, I don’t feel cooped up in here. And it’s not as if I don’t fly or feed anymore. We’ve all adjusted, Dale, and this is the best arrangement ever. I love the way things are.” She then grazed her wingtips on his chest. “And I know you love it too.” Her voice was driving him crazy. He shivered at her touch, not out of pleasure, but out of fright. And as she turned to kiss him, he unconsciously moved back. She looked/echosounded at him quizzically again. Still his ears and tail were on the defensive. “I’m not wearing you out, am I?”

“Um—no!” he replied, instinctively. He had, after all, a male image to uphold. “I enjoy it every bit as you do, it’s just that—I’m concerned for you. I know that deep down you want to soar in the sky and eat every insect you can find.” He then turned and held her wings, “Foxy, I really think you should go feed right now. I really, *really* don’t mind at all. It’s in your nature. It’s somethin’ you *have* to do.” The pipistrell raised an eyebrow.

“Dale, it’s not as if I have this uncontrollable urge to fly and feed. After all, Monty keeps us well fed, doesn’t he? And what about you? Aren’t you supposed to be gathering acorns and preparing for hibernation?” If the tamias had his shirt on, he would be tugging at the collar.

“Um—yeah—I guess so, but like you said, Monty keeps us well fed, and Gadget has the heatin’ on all winter! But Foxy, it’s more than just feedin’. I know you love to fly. Don’t let me stop you from doin’ what you love.” Her naughty look came back and she replied,

“Well, what I’d love right now is for us to—”

“Foxy!” He was getting scared. And she *knew* he was getting scared. But scared of what? Her libido? He didn’t complain one bit in the past month, not until tonight! She echosounded his face again. He sounded sincere enough. He really *did* want her to go feed.

That, or he wanted her to leave.

With half a smile, she said, “Okay, Dale, I’ll go feeding tonight. But I don’t want you to feel lonely.” She suddenly hugged him very tight, and held his head so their noses were touching. “So, I’ll make up for lost time *tomorrow* night, okay?” Before Dale could answer, she kissed him. Her kisses of this particular type would normally cause him to forget everything that was previously said and move on to bigger and better things, but instead of that, he began squirming, almost as if he didn’t like being kissed. Foxglove released him and looked/echosounded at him, almost in shock, with her ears laid back. “Um, I guess I’ll go now. See you in the morning, Cute Stuff.” With that, she got up, and left the room, closing the door behind her, wondering what had come over her husband so suddenly.

The plan had worked. Dale flopped back on the bed, and sighed in relief.

Relief?

Though he was exhausted, he couldn’t go back to sleep. What was going on? Why was he repelling her, after all they had enjoyed together? What did that dream mean? Why did he think her face was suddenly repulsive? Why couldn’t he raise his ears anymore? Why couldn’t he relax his tail? Why didn’t he want her around anymore?

And why was he dreading her return?

**************

NEXT / NÄCHSTE / A CONTINUACION / A SEGUIR / NÄSTA

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For those of you who aren't familiar with the Wuzzles, you can find more info here.

There are two basic designs for the characters. The one I'm basing the descriptions on is the TV series design.