BETTY WHITE WAS DEEP IN THE FOG. Though they could barely see each other, Idris Elba was by her side. They could barely see anything at all, but they had to push on. The Charmin Bears had disappeared somewhere in these haunted streets, and they had taken all the toilet paper with them.

“Do you really think that TP is going to cure the virus?” Betty asked, only aware that she still needed to wipe. It had been hours since she woke up to find her spindle empty.

Idris’ voice wrapped around her in the fog. “It’s got to,” he said, “Or the whole world might be doomed.” What he didn’t say, but Betty knew too well, was that he might be doomed too. Idris had the virus.

They pushed deeper into the sightless distance, the entire world seeming to have fallen under a shroud. Both of them, wondering what they were going to find.

That’s when a high-pitched yelp leapt from the fog. A really high-pitched yelp, like it was totally unreal.

“I’ve heard that sound before,” Betty said.

“So have I,” Idris replied. A tense moment of silence stretched out beyond his voice, and then he continued, “It almost sounds . . . “

Sudden movement in the fog. Betty could hear the struggle, more yelping, and then Idris said, ” . . . like a cartoon!”

They both appeared in front of her, super-duper good-looking Idris and the brightly colored cartoon rabbit. Idris had the huge creature by its ears. “Let me go!!” it said, “P-p-please!!!”

Betty White said, “Holy shit, it’s Roger Rabbit.”

She had drawn the bazooka from her back and it was pointed right at the rabbit’s face. “P-p-please, put the bazooka awaaaay.”

Idris was still wrestling with Roger. “What are you doing out here, rabbit?”

“N-n-nothing. I was looking for something, but then they started chasing me and I couldn’t see and I got scared and I was running and wishing I was still home with Jessica and – and – “

Idris: “Who was chasing you?”

The rabbit’s teeth were chattering in fear. Quite literally. They protruded from his face, like an entirely separate entity, and proceeded to chatter. Like only a Toon can do.

“Them . . . ” he said, and pointed.

There they were, slinking through the fog. Heads bobbing back and forth, sneering, stalking like canine gangsters.

“. . . the Weasels.”

They stalked in and out of each other, through the fog. It was hard to tell how many of them there were. But they didn’t look like good news.

One of them, from under a low-brimmed hat, said, “We don’t have any beef with you, pal. All we want is the rabbit.”

Betty White almost expected some kind of fight from Idris. But he shoved the rabbit toward the weasels without a moment’s hesitation. “Here.” Both the rabbit and the weasels had big cartoon surprise-eyes.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” the main weasel said. Roger just yelped as the other weasels surrounded him.

But Betty wasn’t sure this was the right play. She squinted at the weasels, then said, “If I throw a stick, will you leave?”

One of the weasels chuckled a high-pitched cartoon chuckle.

“Stop it,” the main one said, “What did I tell you about laughing?”

A dorky voice from the fog: “Uh, don’t do it?”

“Thass right . . . “

But Betty said, “You look like something I’d draw with my left hand.” Another one of the weasels chuckled.

The main one said, “Stop it.”

Roger pulled his ears. Idris looked at Betty, then back at the weasels, who started to laugh a little more. Betty added, “People clap when they see you coming. They clap their hands over their eyes!”


The weasels looked like they were shaking now. Roger was still pulling his ears. It was a nervous habit of his. Idris saw what was happening now. “I like your approach,” he said to the main weasel, “Now let’s see your departure.” The main weasel released a single Heh.

Betty said, “You were the reason God created the middle finger,” then flipped one at the main weasel.

One of the other weasels exploded. There was a huge guffaw, then a BOOM! and he was gone. Cartoon colors splattered all over the street, glowing bright in the fog.

Idris chuckled himself, then started pointing at the weasels. “If I gave you a penny for your thoughts, I’d get change back.” Heh-heh-heh, and the weasel was shaking. “You’re so old that when you were a kid rainbows were in black and white!”

Another weasel exploded.

He pointed at another: “Your mother should have thrown you away and kept the stork.”


And another: “If your brains were dynamite, there wouldn’t be enough to blow your hat off your head.”


“If you had one more brain cell, it’d be lonely . . . I’m jealous of all the people who haven’t met you . . .”

The only weasel left was the main weasel. He was chuckling and shaking and ready to blow. Idris pointed a finger right in his face and said, “In the land of idiots . . . you would be king.”

And the last weasel burst.

Roger leapt up and down, then leapt into Idris’ arms. Betty just smiled, then started to laugh, glad she wasn’t a Toon. She looked at Idris with love in her eyes, maybe even a little lust.

“You really are Black Superman,” she said.

Roger was looking at Idris too, and there were hearts in his eyes. Literally.

“Alright,” Idris said, “We still have some bears to find . . .”

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