You know what we need in a situation like this... Negaverse omakes, hell I'm still waiting on @mangawriter77 to write the next part of that Shego Negaquest from October.
Just imagine the omake possibilities when the rival reports hit, it's going to be beautiful.
Max, Janna, Marco and Kitsune.
Max gives toon stuff to the team.
Janna gives magic and feldrake.
Marco gives literal years of experience and martial arts.
Kitsune is supernatural. Meaning she knows the modern magic scene and has extra magic.
Replace Max with Lizzy. Most of the stuff we would send a Black Ops team for is stuff he HATES. Plus, Lizzy has strong Learning and Stewardship, not the strong suits of any of the other three.
The Line
You rush down the hallway, Janna, Lizzie, and Vanessa right at your heels. You dodge past doctors, patients, equipment, explosions, runaway gurneys/wheelchairs, and other things in the Little Toontown hospital like a man possessed. You barely have time to mutter hasty apologies before you're busy running again. As you continue down the hall, praying to whatever god exists that it isn't true (it can't be true, it just can't be!), you sweat, thinking about how things could have gone so wrong.
Recently Max seemed a bit overworked and overstressed with DEI life. So, you figured it would be wise to give him some time off. Who knows? With how probability would be for the next month and a half, he could come back extremely relaxed and maybe even with an increased benefit! So, you approved his request to take a few vacation days off without looking over where he wanted to go.
A grievous mistake you now regret. Really, this was you you were talking about. How could you think things wouldn't go wrong?
Finally, you burst into an intensive care room. You are not the first one to arrive. Russ is sitting in a chair, face ashen and looking down at the floor. You would think he was in shock if not for his tightly clenched fists and the miasma of rage hidden in his eyes. He's planning revenge, you know it. Any other day, you would rejoice at the prospect of teaching someone in the ways of payback and retribution. Now, though, is not the time.
Juniper is there to. Apparently, she had been doing a small practice number with some Toons that had once been popular dancers to sharpen her skills when she heard the news and rushed over. She's giving comfort to the room's final conscious occupant.
Goofy. Poor Goofy. He's sitting in the chair directly next to the bed bawling his eyes out and sobbing loudly. He's creating puddles on the floor, but neither you nor anyone else has the heart to point it out. Juniper keeps handing him hankies to dry his eyes and blow his nose, as well as give him some comforting pats, one star to another. Still, it does little to ease both the situation and Goofy's grief.
Lying in the hospital bed is Max. A breathing mask is fixed to his snout over his bandages, with more covering his entire torso. His limbs lay limp at his sides, some of them in small casts from where bones were broken and/or hunks of flesh was torn off. His once lively complexion is now dull, the very color that was used to create him seems sucked out somewhat. The only signs that he's even alive come from the beeping heart monitor and the slow rise and fall of his chest.
The mood is too grim for any Toonforce to be used near Max. The only signs that it's even active in the room come from Goofy.
The three girls behind you immediately rush over to the two Goofs. Janna whips out Felldrake and holds him over Max. "Is he okay?" she asks worriedly.
"...Somewhat," the staff replies. "He's definitely going to live, I can tell you that much. The quality of said living, however, is... questionable. Several lacerations to his limbs and face, more broken bones than if he fell of a building, internal bleeding with several of his organs (some of which show signs of showing recent failure, I must add), and to top it all off, his torso was nearly cut in two! Quite slowly and sloppily, I must say. I'd be admiring this work if the mood wasn't so serious."
You set your jaw as the injury list is finished and Goofy bursts into another round of sobbing, Juniper and Vanessa giving him what comfort they can. Lizzie goes over to lay a hand on Janna's shoulder as she lowers Felldrake and starts trembling. Turning away from them both, you look over at the only person who is both semi-composed and unoccupied with anything. "What happened?" you ask Russ.
"Negaduck," the agent spat in a low tone, so as not to let Goofy overhear. "Came out of nowhere and started tearing up Caliosta. Max was out with some friends on a tour of the city, catching up with them and having a good time. Unfortunately, he caught Negaduck's eye for being... who he is, which made him take it slow and steady. Wanted to make it draw it out as long as possible... funnier that way, he said."
Your fists clench. "And his face?"
"Got tired of hearing Max scream and beg for mercy. Said that he would be better off 'laughing and smiling a bit more' and then... 'helped him out a bit.'"
You feel sick... as well as furious. Max's face is going to permanently disfigured in a way that will make him look like a sick supervillain with that permanent grin on his face. And this bastard has the gall to call it helpful?
This will not stand.
You turn out of the room without another glance at anyone in the room, pausing only to tell the doctor coming in to send all medical bills to DEI.
"Dr. Doof?" Janna whispers. Everyone looks at you standing in the doorway, pausing at the mention of your name.
"What are you gonna do?" Vanessa asks nervously.
"...Something I never thought I would do. Quite possibly something stupid that I'll come to regret. Then again..."
You turn around. Your employees all fall back at the sheer amount of pure malice gazing back at them.
"...what else is new?"
You turn to leave before you are interrupted once more.
"Dr. D?"
You pause to glance back. Goofy has stopped crying. He's looking at you through red-rimmed eyes... that have adopted red irises. He looks like he's about to fly into a road rage. Only he's not on the road. And he looks much calmer.
"Do whatever you have to. That bastard needs to pay."
You simply nod before leaving the room, setting off back to your office building. Once you are back in your office, you look over your contacts, digging up an old name you toyed with contacting almost two years ago. A name you have long since given up having any chance at having good relations.
Now... now is different.
You punch in the number and wait. It doesn't even finish the first ring before the man on the other end picks up.
"Ah, Doctor Doofenshmirtz. I heard... about the unfortunate happenings with your... intern. I must offer my... condolences to -"
"Stop. Max Goof isn't dead. And if I have anything to say about it, he'll stay that way. And I didn't call you to discuss his condition."
"I... see. So you are in need of my... expertise?"
"If anyone knows how to catch a Toon, it's you. Besides, last I heard, Negaduck had hightailed it into your neighborhood. He's going to answer for what he did to me. And if I have to sell my soul to the Devil to see him pay... so be it."
You can hear Judge Doom's grin widen a few extra molars as he hears you say that.
You couldn't honestly care less.
There was a line.
Negaduck crossed it.
For that, he would suffer.
One of the situations we may face ourselves with after the Caliosta Chainsaw Massacre. Of course, this is a worse case scenario, so take it with a grain of salt, but it exists nonetheless.
I've been thinking, when reading over the whole quest, I've seen a lot of complaints for how good Rival Reports look. So, I'm making theoretical rival reports on us for each turn:
Jan/Feb 201:
Buy out ACME, Crit success
Greevil Tech, Great Success
March/April 2015:
Solve the Food Situation, Decent success
May/June 2015:
Declare your territory Toon-Friendly, crit success
Improve security on DoofOS, bare success
Buy out Disney, Crit success
Buy Bueno Nacho, Crit success
Release DoofOS
July/August 2015:
Combat organized crime in Doofania, Failure
September/October 2015:
Combat organized crime in Doofania, Bare failure
Buy out Mendel-Grumman corporation, Crit Success
November/December 2015:
Combat organized crime, miserable failure
Hostile takeover of Insuricare, decent success
Research Flubber, great success
Research Greevil power, decent success
Bring back the dinosaurs, success
Jan/Feb 2016:
Combat organized crime in Doofania, Crit success
Develop a flying car, Crit success
March/April 2016:
None
May/June 2016:
Deal with the resistance, DC 5, Crit success
Research Dino Domestication, Crit success
July/August 2016:
Campaign against the SRA, Bare success
Rebrand Insuri-care's anti-super policies, great success
Develop a new social media platform, miserable failure
Buy Lee Industries, Crit success
Sept/Oct 2016:
Dinosaur farming, Bare Success
Nov/Dec 2016:
Move Castle Doofhawk to Doofania, success
Jan/Feb 2017:
Improve DoofOS security, Crit Fail
Start the Doofenshmirtz Evil Space Program, marginal progress
So, there we go, that's what people saw of us, though it may not be perfectly accurate. Note how it gives a very incomplete picture of what we've actually done.
Me and @BurnBright we're just talking in the discord chat and have an alternative to Doom. If we need to take out Negaduck turn to Russ's new nemisis. The Phantom Blot at least gets it, and isn't Doom.
Me and @BurnBright we're just talking in the discord chat and have an alternative to Doom. If we need to take out Negaduck turn to Russ's new nemisis. The Phantom Blot at least gets it, and isn't Doom.
That's actually a good idea. But like I said, this is a worst-case scenario, where literally everything has gone to shit. This is a scenario where we need Doom. Why that is? I left that unclear. Still though, leaves plenty for the imagination...
That's actually a good idea. But like I said, this is a worst-case scenario, where literally everything has gone to shit. This is a scenario where we need Doom. Why that is? I left that unclear. Still though, leaves plenty for the imagination...
You know, visiting spoonerville might not have gone all that badly. It's a progression based action like the Space Program, and we didn't roll a natural 1 on it.
You know, visiting spoonerville might not have gone all that badly. It's a progression based action like the Space Program, and we didn't roll a natural 1 on it.
Incorporated Paradise was attention grabbing, of course, but that was all it was. Pretty, hypnotizing neon light, daring every passerby to come inside and try their luck. But beneath all that glitz and glamor there was… nothing.
Las Vegas did not create anything. It took. It took the bold and the foolish and the rich and it milked them dry. Behind the slot machines and the buffet tables, there were armies of waiters and staff and other modern servants paid a pittance for the privilege of watching as one rich man gave another rich man more money than they made in a year in order to alleviate some temporary boredom.
Beneath it all, those rich men cozied up to the same crime lords Russ was here to look into, to make sure their good times rolled. Vegas was a beautiful city built on lies, and behind those lies was rot. The system was so baked in at this point, the thought of change was like a dream. If there were good men left in that city, their only hope was to fight for just one more day.
No, Russ did not like Las Vegas.
He would sure appreciate someone telling him how to leave.
---
Goofy Goof liked Las Vegas.
The neon signs and beautiful buildings were nice, of course, but as always the most important part was the entertainment. Las Vegas was the last refuge of the stage show. With Hollywood long lost to them, the Toons with the star appeal and money to do so usually ended up here. Even Bugs and Daffy, the titans of comedy, had come together to make a small, heartfelt love letter to the glory days of cartoons. And so Goofy loved Las Vegas, because it was a place that show business was alive.
The three grand he had inexplicably won at the airport slot machines helped a bit too.
Now, despite what you might think, Goofy was not a simpleton. He knew full well that some shady stuff went on around here when people weren't lookin'. Mr. Russ hadn't talked much about it on the ride over, but if he was here that probably meant Dr. D had somethin' 'a that sort to look inta. But at the end a' tha' day, the people who left Vegas usually did so happy. Their wallets might be lighter, but their hearts were full up of amazing shows and exciting attractions, and yes, even the thrill of the casino floor.
Goofy was here to talk to the folks on top a' the heap, as Mr. Sinatra might say. Kronos Corp had kept its groundside focus on Vegas. While DevTech had been headquartered elsewhere, this was still the place to go if you wanted to chat.
Goofy didn't mind.
He might not wanna live here, but Vegas was a swell place to visit.
---
Russ checked in to the Apalachin quietly. It was a small hotel on the edge of the city, well past where the glitz and glamor of the strip gave way to the quiet desperation of the slums. Agent Russ had chosen the hotel for a few reasons. It was quiet, it didn't ask questions, and it had strong locks.
It was part of the job to see the worst parts of any place he was trying to help. He sighed. Only the thought of a brief respite from all this, watching Bugs and Daffy live and in person, was keeping him going.
Russ secured those lock before checking the room for bugs. Literal and metaphorical. When he was satisfied he was not about to be found out or bled dry, he pulled back the stained duvet cover and climbed into bed. He'd slept in plenty of rooms like this over the years. It was routine.
The next part wasn't.
As Russ drifted off, he clutched the caprinaet amulet in gentle hands. He counted himself very lucky his time in Paranormal had included training for this sort of situation; though then again, if it hadn't, he never could have advised Doofenshmirtz to acquire the object in the first place.
Agent Russ Dreamed. Wait, what's happening?
Agent Russ blinked, and rose slowly, wasting only a moment viewing his reclining, sleeping form. Yet when he stepped outside, passing through the walls of his room as if they were not there, he was struck dumb.
The Dreamscape was not like reality. While ghostly reflections of people walked along the same streets, those streets warped and changed. The entire world shifted to muted, smoky greyscale, shades of gloomy darkness broken by bursts of blinding white light. The sky above loomed an inky blackness, broken only by unblinking stars that, if Russ considered them too long, seemed almost too much like watching eyes. Stay calm, everyone.
Flashes of color swirled in the darkness. Here and there were those things that had meaning. A lost dog poster swirled in shades of melancholy blue. A windowsill of carefully tended sunflowers burst with gleeful color. A rusty gate clattered, sending infuriating sound to the ears of every neighbor in angry reverberations down the street.
Every soul on that street contained at least a spark of color. Some wore it on their sleeves, others hid it away, but Russ knew, somehow, that every passing person was their own world, a world he could lose himself in if he allowed it.
Above it all towered Vegas. In the realm of the mind, the city of a thousand joys and sorrows rose higher than it did in life, each and every casino on the strip a palace stretching to the sky. Russ' instincts told him to stay, to explore, to examine in detail every new wonder. But he had a place to be, and a job to do, and perhaps some good would come of it. Nothing like this has ever happened before. What do we do?
---
The Havana was a respectable joint. It didn't have the pull of famous spots like the Venetian or Caesar's, but it held itself with a quieter sort of pride. Its carpets were red, its paint was reserved, and the neon was kept to a minimum. It was in short a place that avoided attention but exuded respect, and for that reason had been the perfect choice for the largest organized crime conference in decades.
Russ marveled at the opportunities the talisman now opened for him. No door was barred, no security an obstacle. Privately, he considered the Yang Talisman one of the most potent artifacts he had ever encountered. Unless the target was skilled in defending against the paranormal, nothing could stop him. Just stay quiet. He might hear us, and George knows what could happen then.
The Conference was held in a sumptuous room in the casino's upper floors. Russ simply lifted himself through them, passing through layer and layer of the building until he found the right room.
It wasn't hard, when several of the most wanted people in the country were in it.
At one end of the table sat Aldrin Klordaine, one of the many crime lords who'd smelled blood when Kronos fell. He was a short, fat little man, with an enormous nose and a clashing ginger fringe around his balding head. His skin was an unhealthy gray, yet he seemed to sit completely at ease, petting a large, delighted gray tabby. His presence wasn't surprising; Klordaine was known and wanted by the US. What was surprising was the bull at the other end of the china shop.
A literal bull, to be clear. Enormous, blue and musclebound, clad in a red suit and with horns that could skewer a full-grown man. The FBI knew whoever had taken over the hinterlands of the northeast must have been someone to have come out of Saint Canard; the timing was too perfect. They had not expected the infamous Taurus Bulba. The bull was such a skillful crime lord he was known to have kept his organization running from his own jail cell; apparently, he had decided he could do so more efficiently from outside of it.
The third figure at the table was, thankfully, a known quantity. Alexander Paine, former spy, now traitor. Convicted of murdering his long-time partner and of conspiracy against the United States. He would have rotted the rest of his life away if Negaduck's escape had not given him the chance to start his criminal empire anew. The man was nearly as bulky as the bull, body covered in red scars that were the result of the accident that led to his incarceration. The accident caused him daily agony but, if the rumors were true, had granted him incredible durability and the power to share that pain with others. Disgusting.
Rounding out the meeting were the three Fujitas, representatives for Yama and the San Fransokyo Yakuza no doubt, and… Russ blinked, and then sighed. The last two figures at the table were a rat and an owl, both dressed in 20s gangster attire and glaring daggers at each other.
The owl ruffled his feathers. "What sort of a name is Rat Capone, anyway? That's not even a pun!"
The rat squeaked, offended. "Haven'chu eva heard a tha Rat Pack?!? It's a cleva name! Betta than yours, birdbrain!"
"Owl Capone. Owl Capone!" The bird replied.
The Fujitas watched with interest ranging from the rapt to the marginal as the two animals fought over who would metaphorically have to go home and change. From the sidelines, Alexander Paine clenched his fists, letting out a low rumble that might have turned into something more had the door not swung open a moment later.
"Fellas, fellas, please. You came here to talk after all, not paint the boardroom red."
Impossibly bright smile. Perfectly tailored suit. Black leather briefcase. And the only head in the world that could pull off a fedora.
"Gentlemen." Sinatron said. "Let's get started."
---
"Let's get started!" Goofy declared, gangling forwards to give the Deavor siblings a handshake one after the other.
The Sands had been fully renovated since that dramatic night so many months ago, and was now quite open for business. As the most famous casino on the strip, it was where the big boys came to do wheeling and dealing; and there were none as big as Olympia's head.
Evelyn returned Goofy's handshake with a polite smile, while her brother Winston was much more enthusiastic. Any trace of his former melancholy was gone from his face; now Winston was a man high on life, a smile eternally etched on his face and his footsteps light as a feather.
"It is so wonderful to hear from Dr. Heinz again!" Winston cheered, taking an instant liking to Goofy's natural exuberance. "From the moment I met him I said, 'that Heinz, he's a super supporter if ever I saw one.'"
"Uhh, really?" Goofy asked, surprised. "Even with all the…"
"Ohhh, yes yes yes yes yes." Winston chuckled, patting Goofy on the back. "Right right, 'Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, haha. Quite the branding. But still, you can't have a 'villain' without a hero to fight, yes?"
"We're quite impressed by the work DEI has done in the national community." Evelyn said gently, a tired but bemused smile on her face. We're thinking of beginning our own public interest work as well." The woman was wearing large black gloves, an interesting fashion statement but not an ugly one.
"Superheroes!" Winston declared, spreading his arms wide. "A US President just got elected on replacing the SRA! Can you believe it?!"
"Gawrsh. Well, I don't follow politics too close Mr. Deavor, but if you're that happy about it then it must be good!"
"Ha! That's the spirit. Soon enough, we might see dozens, no, hundreds of people doing good across this country once more. But to do that, we have to convince Capitol Hill. There's a lot of old fogeys up there who aren't ready for new ideas. That's where we can help! The Supers need all the support they can get, and this is our chance to do our part! Devtech could have done some of this on our own, but with Olympia and DEI behind us-"
"What my brother means," Evelyn said, gently pumping the breaks on her brother's exuberance, "is that we are planning a broader initiative to help get the SRA repealed in the near future. And we are looking for further collaborators. We'd like to invite you to see what we can do together, if you're interested.
"And of course," She continued wryly, "We encourage you to also come forward with any more… lucrative contracts you might have available."
"Well gee. That sounds swell to me, but I'll have to run it by Dr. D first, see what he thinks. I gotta thank ya though, these little cocktail thingies are mighty tasty."
"We'd like to call ourselves gracious hosts." Evelyn replied.
"Uh, speakin' of, I don' suppose that Sinatra feller is around here anywhere, is he? I'd like ta get an auteegraph."
"I'm afraid he has a prior engagement." Evelyn replied. "But I'll ask him to send one on."
"Gee, thanks!"
---
"Ah, the man of the hour makes his appearance." Taurus Bulba said, turning his disapproving gaze from the capos fighting like animals to focus on sizing up the reason he was here.
Now this was interesting, Russ thought to himself, hovering over the table like the Ghost of Interventionism Past. Olympia wanted to get in good with the crime lords that'd weaseled their way into their territory.
"Heh heh. An hour I hope we'll all appreciate, Mr. Bulba." the android replied, flashing yet another winning smile.
"Perhaps, perhaps." Klordaine interjected. "Depending on what, exactly, the hour is for."
"Straight shooter. I can respect that. I'll get right to it." The android walked slowly behind the table, tapping each of the 'Capones' on their shoulders and bringing them out of their frackas. "Olympia thinks it can offer you a deal."
"A deal for what?" Paine asked.
"Oh Gentlemen, you have got no idea how nice it is to work with refreshing guys like you." Sinatron replied. "Up in the high rollers suite, the schmucks in suits can't tell me the sun is shining without readin' me half a novel. Heh, but here I go calling the kettle black. It's like this:
"We would like some crimes, not too picky on the sort, to occur at certain times and certain places where someone rather civic-minded could, ah, intervene for the sake of the public interest."
Russ frowned. Grrr. I can't believe he'd make a mockery of- I said quiet.
"You want us to be your stooges?!?" Bulba leapt to his feet, steam practically billowing from his nostrils.
"Now now," Sinatron said smoothly, lifting his palms up as if to ward off the attack. "Mr. Bulba, surely you have some mmmm let's say less than loyal, or at the very least less than competent, underlings you wouldn't mind seein' the keisters of?"
One of the Fujitas tilted her head. "So, what would we get out of it?"
Sinatron slapped his suitcase on the conference table, popping it open to reveal neat rows of what Russ would call 'Benjamins'.
"Money, and a whole lotta it."
Rat and Owl Capone both practically leapt for the dough, bashing into each other and reigniting their argument.
"That not enough for ya? Olympia's interested in a long-term operation here. You need us ta look tha udda way sometime, we can do that. Maybe thinkin' some smancy new Devtech is just what your syndicate needs? We can work somethin out. All we need is a few stooges ta take a fall for the greata good. Howzabout it?"
Slowly, one by one, the bosses around the table gave their thoughts. "We'll bring the subject to Master Yama" the head of the Fujitas reported. "I'll consider it." came the exceptionally reserved Paine's reply. After a moment, Klordaine and Taurus Bulba smirked, and approved the deal as one.
Sinatron smiled. "Capos, I think this is the beginning of a beautifu…"
The robot trailed off. A moment later, servos whirred as his head tilted to the side. "Som'n ain't right."
The Fujitas, Paine, and Taurus stood up immediately, while Klordaine raised an eyebrow. The two Capones were too busy fighting over their capi to notice.
Sinatron's brow furrowed as his enhanced senses fed auditory data to his central processor. ""Nine men, comin' up the stairs, fast. Tryin' ta be slick about it." Oh here we go! Aheh, but you know. Quietly.
He rushed towards the window, smashing it apart with a single impact from his metallic elbow. "Vamoose! All a' ya! We'll work out the specifics once the heat is off. If any a' you break Omerta I'll make you wish you were born in Brutopia. Now go!"
With that, the chairman of the board leapt out of the window, using his rocket feet to guide him towards a balcony three stories down. The Fujitas followed swiftly after him, and Taurus Bulba quite literally bull rushed across the room towards the back exit.
It was only a moment later that the door was broken down, and a squad of heavily armed men burst in, demanding all present to 'put their hands up'. A rat squeaked, an owl screeched, and Klordaine's cat, startled, leapt from his lap and bolted out the door. Even as Klordaine scrambled to stand, Paine slipped in under an assailant's guard, flinging one into another with tremendous strength. A third trained his gun on the man, but Paine moved like a snake. He barely had time to touch the person in front of him, but that was all it took. The man collapsed to the ground, writhing in seemingly sourceless agony. Paine made a break through the last few foes and rushed for the stairwell. Even as he disappeared from Russ' view, his friends in the FBI clapped irons on the three remaining gangsters, all of whom had been too slow or too foolish to make a break for it.
It had taken days to find contacts in the parts of the FBI who handled 'mundane' crime, and weeks to convince them the intel Russ had gathered was legitimate despite its very classified source. And yet, against all expectation, the raid had happened, and the raid was a success. Alert the General and prepare a full meeting. When this is over, we need to decide our next step.
Most of the ones who ran would get away, Russ knew that. They didn't have the manpower to stake the whole building. Maybe all of them would. But a few less monsters were on the streets today.
Russ looked out the window. While the room inside was grayscale, the world outside was a colorful, riotous mash of what Vegas meant to the world.
Today, those colors were a little bit less of a lie.
---
Goofy has established relations with Olympia! They are amenable to cooperation, and may be reaching out with their own offer in the near future!
Olympia hopes to help ensure the SRA is repealed!
Agent Russ has discovered Sinatron, working for Olympia, plans to pay a number of crime bosses to stage fake crimes as part of a larger plot!
Thanks to Russ' attention and a lucky break in the usually messy FBI, a number of the country's nascent crime bosses have been discovered and arrested! The government's opinion of you has slightly improved!
Agent Russ seemed very effective at using the Yang talisman. Some things may have been set into motion.
Expanded rival reports for Olympia region unlocked!
All remaining tickets to Bugs and Daffy's stage show would be bought up by a band of traveling nuns in a freak and unexpectedly negative event. Russ did not get to see them perform.
Dream stuff aside, it's nice to see that Winston is in a much happier mood.
He went from his company being bought out by someone who was pretty much the antithesis of his beliefs to a position that he can help the pro super cause.
So from above comments, this might be Russ' emotions (ala Inside Out) getting involved... well, I'm going to hope that this is the case because my initial thought was that he might have a had a stray thought on whether the talisman was worth cutting ties to keep in US hands
All remaining tickets to Bugs and Daffy's stage show would be bought up by a band of traveling nuns in a freak and unexpectedly negative event. Russ did not get to see them perform.
Ah, sucks for Russ I guess... it's possible Goofy might have been able to get him in despite the rivalry but if we ever have him free for a personal that might work too
On the other hand, Rats are social animals which show altruism.
Sure, the dark side of Las Vegas does follow the slang form of "Rat", but I see people like Winston reflecting the other form of it, perhaps given a chance Evelyn may act akin to the brother she grew up with.
