The Sly Fox Show - Tune In and Toon Out

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Xanadu story universe
Author: JT Fox


Sly glanced down at his watch, or rather, he looked down at his wrist and realized he didn't have a watch. Regardless of that he still could tell that the day was wrapping up. Heading towards the exit of Xanadu, Sly's vision suddenly got replaced by the opening sequence of his show.

Stumbling about all Sly could see was the opening credits and crazy antics taken from the movie and pilot. His hearing was also replaced by his catchy theme song. Disoriented, the toon fox held himself up on a lamp post. After the 60 second opening was finished with he set off across the parking lot with a spring in his step.

"Man, is that going to happen every time a new episode starts?" Sly scratched his head.

As he made his way towards the far side of the parking lot Sly couldn't help but whistle his theme song, it was a catchy tune, (or would that be toon?). He chuckled, but then stopped in his tracks.

A police officer was blocking Sly's path, "Sorry fox, we've got a quarantine set up. No one effected by the change is supposed to leave right now. It'd be best if you went back to the hotel."

Sly tapped his paw, "Awwr, now that's a shame to hear." He suddenly acted surprised, "Oh my gosh, is that doughnut truck on fire!?"

Now this particular officer wasn't that interested in doughnuts, but still spun around and said, "What!? Where!?"

By the time he realized there was no burning truck and turned around the unusual toon fox was nowhere to be seen. Of course, Sly was currently tip toeing comically behind the officer without making a sound. A perfect escape as usual.


But now Sly was left with an unusual predicament.


"What am I supposed to do now?"


Sly walked aimlessly through the city streets, getting odd looks from the audience, with a few friendly laughs from kids. Soon though there weren't anymore kids on the street, just row after row of old buildings and large factories. The toon had stumbled onto the bad part of town, and still wasn't sure what to do.

"Alright, this isn't funny, we're already way into the first episode and no one's given me the script. What the heck is a fox supposed to do here!" Sly shouted at the writers.

"Come on, where's the drama, where's the punch lines! This plot doesn't make any sense!"

And yet no one answered. What did the writers think he was? A stand up comic?


Sly tugged on his collar, or rather, his neck because he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"What to do what to do...Well, I guess I need a place to stay."

The fox was muttering to himself as he traveled on. This wasn't like his movie or his pilot. There wasn't any plot, nothing to react to, just row after row of unfamiliar buildings.


Finally, the fox had had enough!

"I can't take this anymore! I'm gonaa havta write my own plot if the writers are so lazy!" he shouted, stomping his paw down on the ground.

The sudden vibrations caused the earth to shake a bit, and a sign over his head fell down and smacked the toon square on his head. As he swung at the stars around his head he picked up the sign and looked it over.

"Real Cheap Apartments." read Sly out loud in case any of the viewers couldn't read. However, there was a large CONDEMNED written over the top of it.

Peering over the fence the sign had fallen off of, Sly saw the old building. Two or three stories tall, the place was falling apart. Windows were shattered, doors had fallen off, and spray paint was everywhere.

"Heh, that place has seen better days..." tossing the sign aside Sly turned and was ready to keep going on his way.


Before he took a single step though the inked vulpine had an idea, whose light bulb lit up the whole street corner.

"Wait a second, that's it!" Shouted Sly, running back to the apartment.

The toon was jumping up and down now, unable to contain his excitement, "That's what I'll do! I'll open up an apartment! That way, I'll have a place to stay, and it'll make for a decent opening plot."

Sly put his thumb and index finger at the end of his muzzle, "But this place is a dump... I wonder if I can fix it up..."

He got his trademark Sly grin and pulled out a bucket of toon paint, "Bah, nothing a fresh coat of paint can't handle."


Taking a step back he thew the paint over the entire building. For a normal person it would have been impossible to get coverage over the entire building in one swift throw, but in the stylized toon manner in which Sly did things it was no problem. As the paint dripped down over the building, it looked as if someone had spent months renovating the place. The windows were all full of sparkling new glass, the grass was fresh and cut perfectly, and even a bird or two was chirping. Sly took out a finer brush and started to paint the name in.


"The Tune in, Toon out Apartments."


Sly smiled as he walked into his new home and the show cut to a commercial.


As the cartoon fades back in we see Sly entering the apartments building. The building is just as nicely furnished on the inside as it was on the outside. Walking down the hall Sly passes the three empty rooms and then finally stops at his room.


Room 101 - Owner, Sly Fox.


Grinning from ear to ear Sly enters his room. It's completely tooned out from head to toe with everything a fox needs to stay happy and comfortable. Taking a long sigh of relief Sly walked over to the bed and grabs a nightcap off the end post. Putting it on he feels instantly drowsy, falling on top of his bed and getting what felt like the first peaceful nights sleep in his entire life.


Sly was woken by a loud banging on his door the next morning. Literally hopping out of bed the toon walked over to see what the fuss was about, while tossing his nightcap onto the bedpost once again with perfect accuracy.


Now, every once in a while Sly finds himself truly surprised, and now would be one of those times.


Likewise, Gus Millage has seen a lot in his life, and doesn't find himself shocked by much anymore.


And by some fate, these rare occurrences took place exactly at the same time. The wheelchair bound Gus looked up at the living cartoon character, not exactly sure what to think. In the same instant, the awe stuck Sly was not sure what his writers would have him do, meeting this old man with no legs. The two stood/sat there in silence for a long time, before Gus finally spoke up. "You're the owner of this place?" he said, wheeling himself backwards a bit.

Sly nodded, "Yeah, I am. Name's Sly Fox."

There was another awkward pause, "You're one of those kids from that convention aren't you? Got turned into your costume?"

Sly nodded, not really wanting to take the time to explain how Xanadu was just a plot device for a movie, contrary to popular belief.

"Well this is an apartment complex isn't it? You got any rooms open on the first floor?" asked Gus hopefully.

"Sure do, you want a room?" answered Sly, still a bit in a daze.

"That'd be great kid. Name's Gus by the way." Gus sensed Sly's anxiousness, "Just ask about them."


"You don't have any legs." said Sly, rudely staring at them.


Gus smiled, "I lost them in the war years ago." He patted his two small stubs like he had been through this time and time again.

Sly's eyes were a bit wider than usual, "But... who would write such a sad plot twist? That's a terrible idea for a character, way too sad."

Gus chuckled and grinned, "You're a funny guy Sly." He sighed a bit, "I guess sometimes life throws you some plot twists you don't really expect." He looked the cartoon character over, "I bet you can probably relate."

Sly just nodded, "But... no one tried to fix you...? Give your character a rewrite...?"

Gus chuckled, "'fraid not son. Now then, you know all about my legs. What's your story?"

"I'm a toon. You know, jokes, gags, that sort of thing. You sure you're in character Gus? Most people react differently seeing a toon for the first time."

"Kiddo, when you've lived as long as me, you see things the younger generation would never believe. So how much is rent?"

Sly leaned over to where he kept the keys and handed room 103's key to Gus.

"It's yours. Don't worry about the rent."

Gus held his wheels firmly, sort of like, his version of standing tall, "Listen Sly, I don't need your sympathy. How much are the others paying?"

Sly stepped out into the hall with Gus, "You're my first, so you pay what I pay, nothing. Now then, come on, I'll get your bags for you Gus."


Sly marched ahead of Gus and out to the man's car. He was driving a classic yellow taxi cab, only the checkered pattern had been removed along with any other identifying marks. Sly popped open his trunk and started to get the man's suitcases out.

Gus rolled up next to him, "You don't have to do that you know."

Sly picked up all the bags at once, carrying them clumsily, yet still all at once. He brought them into Gus' room and set them down. "I don't 'have' to do a lot of things, but I do them anyway." Opening them up, the contents exploded out of the room like a well shaken soda can, falling neatly into place. In the fury of activity Sly painted a fresh coat of yellow paint on the wall with a taxi cab theme, finishing up as Gus walked in.

"Well... having a cartoon character as a landlord does come in handy, now doesn't it."

Sly shrugged, "I do what I can. Though I'm more of a Paw-y fox than a handy man."

Gus lifted himself out of his chair and onto his new desk, "I've got some stuff to work on Sly, you can go now, I'm alright. Thanks for the help."

Sly had a concerned look in his face, "You sure there's nothing I can do for you Gus...?"

"Sly, trust me, you've done enough already, thanks a bunch."

"If you say so..." Still worried, Sly exits and goes to his room.


Gus sighs and pulls out some paper, and starts to write to his brother out west. His landlord was a cartoon character, who would have guessed... Xanadu probably would make this town a lot more interesting for a long time to come. The scene fades out with Gus wheeling himself over to his bed as the show cuts for a commercial break.


The commercials end and fade in on Sly, who's walking out of the Tune in, Toon out Apartments as the sun sets. Despite having a place to stay now Sly's troubled and just wants to wander the city streets. As the toon walks on night begins to envelope the city.

"Poor Gus... I can't believe someone would write such a sad character, or that he'd show up in my show. I've got to try doing something for him."

Sly's ears perked up as he heard a roar of laughter from a nearby building. Turning his head he saw the front of a run down comedy club. At least enough people went there to get a dull roar of laughing going. Sly grinned knowing people here knew how to laugh at least.

It was a cold night. The toon could see his breath. It wasn't like he remembered, a little hand drawn puff of white smoke. Instead it was a strange misty gas. Sly tilted his head, "Weird."


There was suddenly a loud crash. Sly turned to see three guys literally throwing a man from the comedy club he was standing in front of into the alleyway. One of them shouted, "You suck Lawrence! I'm never booking you again!"

The man who Sly could only assume was Lawrence stumbled to his feet trying to fix his suit and tie.

"Where's my money!" he called out, "You said you'd pay me for tonight!"

"The only time the crowd laughed is when we pulled you from the stage Lawrence." said the man who had thrown him out coldly. "Don't let us catch you here ever again Lawrence!" The side door thundered shut, trapping Lawrence outside alone.

Lawrence sat alone in the alley for a long time. Sly hid in the shadows watching the man. Sly could tell the man was deeply upset, and something was seriously wrong. Finally, Lawrence regained the composure to drag himself to the nearby bus stop.

Sly had read the bus schedule before hand and knew that there were no more buses tonight. The least he could do was bring it to the poor man's attention. Lawrence had his head buried in his hands, and didn't see Sly approach him. It was only until Sly was standing right next to the bench that he noticed the toon, and only because Sly said,

"Hello there?"

Lawrence looked sly over from ear to paw. He then started to laugh in such a way that one worries about the sanity of the person. In all honesty though, it was Lawrence who was worried about his own sanity.

"What the hell kind of hallucination are you supposed to be?" he scowled.

Sly's voice was filled with the air of a priest who was trying to reclaim a lost soul, "I'm not a hallucination. My name's Sly, Sly Fox."

"Sly 'eh? What kind of name is that?"

"Err, it's my name."

Lawrence stopped his scowling demeanor and stopped laughing, if you could even call it that. "You've got to be kidding me, even my hallucinations are funnier than me."

Lawrence then started to ignore Sly and once again buried his head in his hands once again.


Sly slipped over and sat down next to Lawrence. Lawrence glanced over, "Damn persistent hallucination aren't you?"

Sly shrugged and grinned, "I've got a way of growing on people."

Lawrence stared at the cartoon before him, "What do you want anyways you stupid fox?"

"Err... that's Sly Fox..."

"Whatever. Sly, what do you want exactly?"

Sly pointed at the bus sign, "There's no more buses tonight. You're waiting for nothing."


Lawrence yelled, not so much at Sly, but at himself. "What does it matter anyways! Those assholes didn't give me the money I needed. I'm getting kicked out of my apartment and there's nothing I can do about it now."

"Ouch..."

"Ouch! OUCH! You're a frigin' figment of my imadgenation and all you can think to say is OUCH!?" roared Lawrence.


Sly flinched. He was really struck for a loop, two depressing characters in one day? Where the producers trying to turn him into one of those modern satire cartoons? Not if he had anything to say about it!


Sly turned to Lawrence and... slapped him hard (with a rubber chicken, but Lawrence was too stunned to notice). "Snap out of it man!"

Now it was Lawrence's turn to act surprised, "Wha...?"

"Come on, so life isn't looking up right now. That doesn't mean you can just throw in the towel and stop before the third act! You've got to keep on trying! If one gag just doesn't work, just work on the next one!"

"Easy for you to say. To start, you don't really exist. Plus, you seem a lot more funnier than me personally." retorted Lawrence.

"Well technically speaking, if I was your hallucination, then I'd be a product of your imagination and thus you'd have thought me up and thus in reality you'd be funnier than you."

Lawrence scratched his head, "Dang, my conscience is smarter than me to boot..."


Sly put his arm over Lawrence's shoulder, "Come on Lawrence. There's got to be something good old Sly can do to help."

Lawrence loosened his tie and threw it to the ground, "Not unless you can make me as funny as you."

"Well, that is gonna be kinda hard, but I can make ya dang close!" said Sly enthusiastically now.

"I just... I wasted my life away trying to be funny. So much for majoring in Drama. Man, I'm such a screwup."

"No you're not! Come on, if anything you're going to be a screwball." insisted Sly.

"I just wanted to be a comic... Ever since I was a kid all I ever dreamed about was being up on stage."

Lawrence could feel Sly making contact with him, his paw tapping on his shoulder, but he still tried to ignore it. Still, the fox was insisting on staying here and whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

"Well it seems like you've tried really hard at your goal Lawrence, I'm sure you can still fulfill your dream." reassured Sly.

"Yeah right, I'm washed up, a hasbin. There's no way I could make it big now. Hell, I'm homeless Sly. Man, I'm homeless and now I'm going insane, talking to myself."

Sly shrugged and tapped his paw, "Well, if talking to "yourself"" mocked Sly with air quotes, "is going to help then why don't you listen to him?"

Lawrence threw his hands in the air in frustration, "Alright! You win! What do you suggest I do Mr. Hallucination?"

The toon fox paced back and forth as he gave the hopeless human his instructions, "Well, first of all, hallucination or not, call me Sly."

Lawrence just shot him a look, "Whatever you say Sly." Lawrence could just picture what a person walking by must see. Him sitting at a bench, talking, mumbling, and shouting at himself. Man, he must have looked like such a psycho...


Lawrence might have been bad with humor, but whatever part of his brain had melted down must have been toying with him. What kind of person sees a hallucination of a cartoon? This Sly character was so annoying, and he couldn't seem to get him to go away no matter how hard he tried to straighten out his head.

"Well, what do you suggest I do Sly?" asked Lawrence half-heatedly.

Sly exaggeratedly stroked his muzzle, "Hmm..."

"Well!?" shouted Lawrence, getting frustrated with himself.

"What is it exactly that you want to do Lawrence?"

"I told you! I just want to be good at stand up comedy. You know, make a name for myself."

"And what does a comedian have to do to make a name for himself?"


Lawrence got up and started to pace about agitatedly as Sly took a seat.

"Well, for starters, a comedian has to be, well, funny." explained Lawrence.

Sly nodded in agreement.

"And comedians usually have to have something special to draw the crowd in, some sort of gimmick."

Sly figited with his gloves a bit, "Ah, like a good set of jokes or an unusual voice, or maybe a costume or something?"

"Yeah, exactly." said Lawrence deep in thought. "Most comedians also have a good stage name or personality on stage too."

"Well, do you have a gimmick?" asked Sly.

Lawrence cringed, "I was hopping my jokes would be enough..."


Sly hopped up, "Would you pay to see me perform Lawrence?"

Lawrence looked the toon over, "Sure, I guess I would. You're pretty funny, and well, seeing a cartoon on stage would be unique."

Sly was smiling, "Well, what if you could be like me, a toon. Would you like that as your gimmick?"

Lawrence scratched his nose, "Well, I guess that'd be a great way of bringing in the crowds. Sure, being a toon would be alright I guess."

Sly was now grinning a bit too slyly, "Well, what if I could make you into a toon?"

Lawrence tilted his head, "But how would I do that?"

Sly patted him on the back, "I told you I could do it. Just leave it to me alright?"

"I guess so... you sure Sly?" questioned Lawrence.

"Of course I am! I guarantee you'll win a crowd over, I'll bet my time slot on it!"


Lawrence sat down on the bus stop bench, his hallucination sure was taking a weird turn. But if he could get any ideas for an act he might as well try, though it didn't seem like he'd have another shot around here any time soon.

As Lawrence sat down Sly pulled out a fine paintbrush and a small paint set. The brand of course, was ACME, and the type of paint, was as always, Sly's specially blended toon paint.

"Well, lets just pretend you're sane here for a second," chuckled Sly, "and that I really was here, and could really make you into a toon."

Lawrence just let out a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Alright, I'll take that as a yes. Tell me about what your gimmick would be like."

Lawrence stroked his chin hair as Sly started dabbing his brush in the paints.

"Something kid friendly. Those stupid screaming and cursing comics never get past Comedy Central late night."

Picking a nice shade of yellow, Sly started to paint the back of Lawrence's neck. Despite when Sly pulled the brush away the coloring was still stroking itself down Lawrence's back and over his body.

Sly took the brush and started to paint over his clothes, which simply blended into the paint on his skin as the two became indistinguishable and then one and the same. "Well, you've got to ditch his musty old suit guy look."

As the paint started to cover a good amount of his torso Lawrence shifted around, not noticing the paint dripping down his arms and creeping down his pant leg. Suddenly though Lawrence felt his manhood violated.

Lawrence watched the paint cover and smooth over his crotch, his eyes wide, "What in the world...?" Talk about a strange hallucination...

Sly laughed, "You said kid friendly right?"

Lawrence laughed awkwardly, "Heh, I guess I did... Anyways, I'd think my character would be sort of goofy, you know, almost clown like. One of those characters you can't help but laugh at."

"Ah yes, I see." Sly now got the brown paint brush ready, and started to paint over Lawrence's hair. As he did, it became more defined, and seemed to have more character to it. It became random, messy, spiky, and most importantly longer as it flowed down his neck before finally tapering out.

"Yeah, something like that sounds good..." muttered Lawrence, obviously out of it.

Sly handed him a cup of white paint, "Here, drink this."

"What? Oh, right." Without thinking the man downed the entire glass, grinning afterwards. His whole mouth was now filled with sharp canines, crowded in some areas and gaps in others, giving off an interesting and very goofy appearance.

Taking his brown brush back Sly began to flick brown spots on the man's back. Lawrence scratched his back as his neck got stiff, hunching over a bit. One of the brown spots hit his hand, and then his other hand. As the brown paint spread his pinkie and ring finger fused together. All of his fingers were becoming large and stubby, forming a nicely clawed paw.

Sly saw this and chuckled, "How about making your character clumsy? You know, dropping things, tripping, that sort of thing. A visual oddball."

Lawrence nodded as some of the brown paint from his hair fell down onto his feet. They began to expand and well, his toes growing to an awkwardly large size as his feet elongated where the only shoes he had any hopes of wearing were the most exaggerated clown shoes. Grinning rather foolishly as he nodded the rest of the brown paint became less of a worry as it seeped into his skull.

Sly bent over and ran his paintbrush down the man's spine. Even after running out of body to paint on the toon ink continued to draw until Lawrence had a full length tail wagging back and froth happily. Sly had left it just long enough where the man could accidentally trip on it and get the crowd laughing during his entrance.

"Now what kind of species would your act star Lawrence?" asked Sly, slowly but gradually prompting the disllusioned man.

"Certinly not human! No, my show would be a bit more exiotic, with one of those more funny species, something like..."

"A hyena?" offered Sly.

Lawrence snapped his paw excitedly, "Exactly!" As he snapped though, a bit of paint flew and hit him in the eyes.

As the man rubbed his eyes, trying to get the paint out, he eventually rubbed his eyes away all together, leaving nothing but smooth yellow paint. Unalarmed, he simply asked his toon friend for assistance.

"Ouch, I think I've got something in my eye Sly."

Sly chuckled, pulling out some more of the white paint. He drew two large circles with it where the man's eyes had ceased to exist and then dotted them with a single drop of black.

"How's that Lawrence?" he asked, hiding the paintbrush behind his back.

"Great!" The man blinked with his new toon eyes.

Sly looked at his face closely, "Your mouth seems a little sore, something wrong?"

Lawrence didn't feel anything particularly wrong, just a gap in his teeth, but that's all. "No, not really, but if it looks bad it must be bad. Think you can fix it buddy?"

"Of course!" Sly grabbed the man's nose and mouth with both paws and squeezed tight, reshaping the man's face, forcing his ears to the top of his head and his mouth way out front. His nose looked a little odd, but it was nothing a large circle of red paint couldn't fix. As Lawrence rubbed his muzzle with a puzzled look Sly sneaked around back and gave his ears a distinct point.

"My mouth, err sorry, muzzle, feels a little odd. You sure you fixed it?"

Sly nodded and laughed, "As fixed as a pet who's owner listens to Bob Barker."

Not really understanding the Price is Right reference, Lawrence tries to stand up, but only manages to slip on the ground and plant himself back down on the seat.


Sly kicked his paints to the side, and admired his handywork. Lawrence was now a toon hyena, just like he had promised. The red nose had been a nice touch. The toon was pretty funny to look at, and did have a sort of clown aura about him.

Sly put his arm around the new 'yena. "So Lawrence, you think up an act for this hyena bit of yours?"

He hadn't. He tugged on his ear and let his tongue hang out loosely, "No, not really Sly."

Sly grinned, "Come on Lawrence, you said you wanted to make a name for yourself, didn't you?"

Lawrence nodded quickly, "Yes, of course!" His tail wagged excitedly, "Well... if I need a new name for myself, might as well suit me. I never really like Lawrence that much anyways."

A lightbulb lit over Lawrence's head lighting up the whole street corner, yet another reminder that the bus wasn't coming. If he was being observent, the delusional hyena might have noticed that Sly was giving off a shadow (albiet a toon shadow), and thus couldn't have been a Hallucination. However, trapped in his own little world, he continued on.

"A new name? That's easy! You can call me Harry Hyena from now on!"

Harry was grinning proudly despite his flawed dental work.

Sly pat Harry on his back, "That's great news Harry!" The two were laughing despite Sly's slap sending Harry flying over the bench. The toon picked himself back up.

"But Sly, I can't go on stage like this, don't I need some sort of gimmick or costume?"

Reaching off screen Sly grabbed a purple and gold jester's costume, compete with dangling bells. The suit had a tail hole in it and places for the 'yena's ears.

"Try this on buddy!"

After once trying to wear the pants as his hat, and another time trying to use his vest for a loin cloth, (both of these receiving a round of applause and laughter from Sly), Harry got the outfit on.


Harry laughed, pulling three balls from off stage to juggle with as he talked, "Sly, this is great, I think I'm ready to go back on stage now! Ha ha!"

Harry kept laughing, clenching his sides, all three balls hitting him on the head in the process, "Heh, I can't, haha, stop, HA!, laughing Sly!"

The beaming fox slapped him on the back again, "Course not, you're a laughing hyena Harry! Remember?"

Harry got his laughter down to a chuckle, "Oh right, hee hee, guess I'll need to heh, watch it."

Sly handed the toon a mic, "Come on Harry, go knock 'em dead. You can do it!"


Inside the comedy club, the crowd was still laughing over the terrible warm up act and his violent ejection from the bar. Where was the headliner though? He sure was taking his sweet time. Suddenly, a cartoon hyena ran on stage laughing, tripping over himself but landing squarely on his feet. The patrons were amazed first by his appearance, but then amused by it. His clumsy demeanor, large nose, wild hair, and sharp but hole filled teeth all were humorous to the crowd. They didn't care if he was a clever projection or something else at the moment, he was silly.

"Sorry folks, 'fraid the headliner couldn't make it tonight, seems he had an unfortunate run in with an anvil. Or would that be a flat-in?" The crowded laughed wholeheartedly. (Meanwhile a cell shaded vulpine was having a wonderful time scurrying around on the scaffold and dropping anvils on a panicking stage crew.)

Harry was in his element. Anything he seemed to do or say drove the crowd nuts. His every motion, his every actions, every thought, all devoted to tickling the crowd's funny bones and breaking the Laugh-o-meter's needle at every turn!


As the night wore on the crowd was laughing so hard more than a few were brought to tears. Finally though, the manager had fought it through the unusual onslaught of blacksmithing tools and made his way to the 2-D hyena. Rather than call animal control as he had planned though, he suddenly noticed the rip-roaring crowd.

"You there! What's your name!" he shouted, running up to the toon.

Harry spun around, his bell'ed hat jingling, "Why the name's Harry Hyena my good sir!"

Harry handed a card to the man. 'HARRY HYENA, PROFESSIONAL COMIC. This Card Will Self Destruct in 10 Seconds.'


Harry counted in his head, "Three... two... one..." The card exploded into tiny flames as the manager quickly dropped it, staring in amazement. The crowd laughed again.

"Harry! I don't know what the hell you are, or where you came from, but I want you here preforming ever night!"

Harry chuckled, straighting his vest in a false modesty sort of manner, "Ha ha, Well, a toon does have to try and build a name for himself you know, but I think I could squeeze this place into my schedule some." The crowd cheered, many instantly becoming regulars. Harry made an exaggerated bow showing off his over sized tail which bowed along with him.

Harry put his arm around the manager's shoulder as the two walked into the back, mimicking the gesture of his good sly friend, "Now then Mr. Manager, let me discuss my prices... Ha ha..."


Harry stumbled out of the club about an hour later, laughing his head off. Sly was there clapping his toon gloves together with a grin on his face.

"So, how's my favorite comic doing?" he chuckled.

"Haha! I'm doing great Sly! Hee hee." laughed Harry.

Sly flicked on of Harry's bells, "Glad I could help. Say, you still need a place to stay?"

Harry tucked away his rubber chicken in his back pocket, "That's a 10 4 good buddy."

"Well, let me tell you about this little place I've got on the edge of town..." said Sly as they walked.


The scene slowly faded away as the moon rang high into the night. Somewhere in what was now a crazy upside-down town, a werewolf howled.


Harry was lying on his bed in his new apartment. His tongue was hanging out as a small puddle of drool gathered around his neck. His left hindpaw was dangling off the bed due to the comically undersized nature of his bed. The sheet was lying on the ground, with a bit caught up around his right forepaw. His outfit was lying scattered on the floor, with his jester had topping his bed post, the bells jingling as he stirred in his sleep.

The room was painted a mute yellow, with random brown spots. It was covered in various jokes, gags, and other performance pieces. His closet was full of different jester sets, as well as a few tuxes for formal entertaining. The room was far from organized, and was messy in nature.

Snoring lightly, but mostly laughing, Harry tossed and turned in his sleep. He couldn't help shrugging off this weird dream where he got the confidence to go back inside the club and perform, only he was a hyena... or something, it was a really confusing dream.

"Ha ha, talk about your weird dreams..." Set sat up causing the bells on his hat to jingle.

Harry rubbed his eyes, looking at the noise. His vision was... off. Everything seemed flat, and made out of bright colors. Looking around the room he was bombarded with an onslaught of weird senses and sights. He sure wasn't in his room. Then it suddenly hit him.


It looked like a cartoon.


"Heh, must be like some sort of homeless shelter or uh, ha, something..." he laughed nervously, realizing his voice sounded weird.

He brought his hands back up to his face, hoping to rub his eyes again but then he got a glance at his big brown toony paws.

"No way..." He tugged on his paw, err, hand. The thing stretched a great deal but wouldn't budge. He followed the weird painted gloves up his arm. Paint there too... and on his chest... and down his legs... down his tail... on his muzzle...

"Ha ha! This... this isn't possible!" he stumbled out of bed, crashing to the ground.

"Heh? My feet tripped me up..." he ran over to the mirror on his door and gazed into his reflection.


Harry was panicking as he stared into his reflection. He was a hyena from head to toe. Not only that... but a cartoon hyena. Oh man... that... that wasn't a hallucination, was it...? No no, he still had to be hallucinating... maybe someone slipped him something. Or maybe he really was crazy...

"No! I'm not, HAHA, crazy!" he laughed, "Wait... heh, that, haha, Sly! He'll know what to do!"


Harry reached to open his door, but suddenly stopped. He was naked. He might... not have any err... manhood... wow, that's different... But yeah... He still wanted some clothes.

Walking over to the closet Harry took out a green vest and slipped it on, slipping the belled pants on quickly. About to leave, he suddenly grabbed a matching hat. It was stupid, and looked like it belonged on a jester or something, but... well, he wanted to wear it. Walking in front of the mirror he couldn't help but laugh at himself, he did look like a jester actually.

"Well, come on Harry, better go find where Sly is." he said, walking out into the hallway of the apartment building.


"Wait."


Harry froze, shocked by his own revelation.


"What did I just call myself?"


"Harry... I called myself... Harry."


"That's not my name."


"But what is my name...? It started with an 'L' right? No, it started with an 'H', didn't it?"


Harry walked down the hall. He really needed to find Sly. Owner...? Ah, here we go, this must be his room. Harry knocked on it with a silly ditty. Sly answered, his eyes closed as Z's flew out of his muzzle. His nightcap sat atop his head watching over the tired vulpine.

"Sly! What the @#$ happened to me!" yelled Harry. Wait, did he just curse using random ASCII characters...?

Sly pulled on his eyelids and they shot up like window blinds, "What is it Harry...? Snore..."

"I'M A HYENA!" shouted Harry at the top of his lungs, knocking the nightcap off the snoring fox, the force of his voice causing the sleepy fox to sway backwards.

Sly held himself up on the door, "Harry, it's early, I'm tired, can we talk about this later?"

"Now we cannot talk about this later! I'm a #$%^ing toon!" There it was again!

Sly sighed, "Remember? Last night? I helped you be a better comedian."

Harry held his head, trying to remember, his head felt so fuzzy, "Yeah... something like that..."

"And you asked me to make you into a toon? Come on, you designed your character and everything." Sly picked his nightcap back up, putting it on, "Can I please go back to sleep?"

"No! Sly, I... I didn't know that was all real! Oh man... I'm a cartoon..."

"A hyena to be exact." added Sly.

"Right, of course, I mean, no, not of course! You've got to change me back!" yelled Harry.

Sly's night cap slid down over his eyes. He started snoring again. Harry was going to smack him upside the head to get his attention again, but suddenly found himself throwing a pie at the sleeping toon.

"What!? Oh, right... There's not much under there but ink, paint, and probably some cream pies or something." Sly shrugged.

"Woah woah woah, I'm stuck like this!" shouted Harry.

Sly nodded, "At least you've got a good stage name and you got your wish of being great on stage, right?"

With that the fox closed the door and headed back to bed.


Harry blinked. He was stuck like this. He was a humorous, fun loving, kid friendly cartoon character. This was so hard to digest the toon just stood there for a long time, before heading back to his room finally. Harry scratched his head, trying to think back.


Slowly but surely Harry's memory started to come back as he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. Like a bad rerun, he saw his life fly before his eyes. Harry had to hand it to Sly, if it weren't for the fox then he certainly would be homeless right now.


Harry eventually picked himself up and got out of bed. He almost slipped but luckily caught himself. As he got himself balanced he looked down at his feet. They must have been a size thirteen, at least! No wonder he'd been tripping up a lot lately. Harry rubbed his muzzle, still not used to having his nose so far out on his face. On a whim, he grabbed his nose and squeezed hard. The red nose let out a long, loud...


HONK!


Harry laughed, "Haha, my nose has a squeaker in it! That's hilarious!"

He honked his nose a few more times. "Hee hee." Now trying to calm down, he still found himself chuckling.

"Haha, I forgot, I'm a, heh, laughing hyena." he chuckled.

Harry grabbed some juggling balls from off screen and started to juggle. Ah, that's better, juggling always calmed him down.

Harry looked at the balls in his paws, err, hands, and dropped them.

He looked down at them, and picked one up, his eyes going wide.

"Those weren't there before... Where'd they come from...?" he looked the ball over. Though everything he saw was now like a cartoon, it did look normal.

He stood back up, and looked around his room.


"I just pulled them from... off screen?" He scratched his head. Toons did it all the time in cartoons. He was a toon... so... he could do it too?

Harry reached off the screen again, and pulled out a cream pie.

"Heh, that's useful." he grinned. "Wait, why is that useful? Oh, right, throwing at people."

"Why exactly do I feel like throwing pies at people though?"


"Because that's your character Harry." said a voice in the doorway.

Harry spun around to see Sly standing there, now having ditched the nightcap. He seemed to be fully awake.

"Sly! Hey there!" Harry's tail wagged.

"Feeling a little better Harry?" asked the fox.

"Yeah, a bit." Harry nervously scratched the back of his head, "I guess I should be thanking you for the room Sly..."

"Thank me? I should be thanking you, you're the newest character on my show after all."

"Huh? Your show?"

"Sure, ya can tell this is a cartoon right?" Sly spread his arms out for emphasis.

"Heh, if this is a cartoon, then where's the audience?"

"Over there." Sly simply pointed right at you, the readers, calmly.

Harry looks at you and says, "Oh, heheh, yeah, I see." He waved ginning, "Hiii!"

"Don't break the forth wall too much, we want to keep them drawn into the story."

"Huh? Oh, heheh, right." He suddenly froze, "Wait a second!" Spinning back around he looked straight at you, the reader once again, "There's really an audience!"

Sly spun Harry back around, "Yes there is. Now, what was I telling you about breaking the fourth wall?"

Harry looked down at his oversized hindpaws, "Err, right, sorry. Heh."

Looking around Harry's eyes were wide, "So uh, is this still Earth? Everything looks so different. Are we really just in a cartoon?"

Sly paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, "It's hard to explain. Lets say Earth was a game of chess. We're still in that game, only we're checker pieces, we can move around in a lot more ways than the normal pieces, and sometimes if we feel like it we can improvise and go off the board. You get what I'm saying?" "Yeah... I uh... no." Harry shook his head. Now he wasn't sure if he was on Earth or inside a film reel.

Sly laughed, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Harry chuckled along. Laughing felt so good now.

Sly slipped out the door, "I'll be in my room if you need me."


Harry rushed out into the hall, trying to catch up to Sly. He eventually did, no thanks to his tail tripping him up.

"Sly wait!"

Sly's ears perked up as he spun around with a bit of exaggerated whiplash, "What's the matter Harry?"

Harry panted for a moment, which really just sounded like out of breath laughing, "My... heh, my name... it was Lawrence, wasn't it?"

Sly nodded, "Yup."

Harry looked a bit surprised, "Why is it that I think my name's Harry then?"

Sly pawed at his tail, "Well, in all honesty, Harry Hyena sounds a lot better than Lawrence Hyena."

"That sort of makes sense. I guess a lot of thought goes into a toon's name, huh?"

"Yeah, at least I think so. I'm not sure how long the writers worked on my name."

"So... I really am Harry Hyena then?"

"You know what they say, if it looks like it, sounds like it, and acts like it, it must be it."

Harry tilted his head a bit, looking at Sly, as if he was trying to answer some unspoken question just by staring into the toon's eyes.

"Harry, something wrong? What's with all the questions? You like being a toon, don't you?"

Harry hadn't really thought about it. He fully remembered his human life, but it was like, an old stale comedy routine. It didn't feel real. This toon life that Sly had given him, he knew he could make this work. And a question did occure to him, if this was a cartoon, he wondered what point the writers (if they truly did exist) had in writing in his character. A silly looking hyena taking this so seriously? Maybe he was being a bit too serious. Harry Hyena was his character, and he should at least try his best to play it. After all, Sly had given him a place on his show, least he could do was pay him back for that, plus this was going to be funny, and funny was good.


Harry laughed, "Sly my friend, this is the best thing that ever happened to me." He took a moment to think back on his life up until last night, even if it all did seem like scatchy black and white films, everything he had done, and he acomplished up until that point for all he was worth. He suddenly got a sly smile gasped and pointed behind Sly. "The audience! They're all gone!"


"Yip?" Sly looked behind him back at you the reader, "They're not gone, what are you-"

And Sly's face met a cream pie.

"Gotcha! Hahahaha!!" And Harry Hayena laughed.


The two blacked out for a moment as the credits rolled.


Harry looked at Sly. "Whao... were those... were those really-"

"The end credits? Yeah, you get used to them. Just be set for the opening credits, a new episode should be starting up soon enough." grinned Sly.