The Best Things in Life Are Free A Tiny Toons fanfic by Rebecca Littlehales (e-mail: littlrs0@sisters.salem.edu) Montana Max, being rich, enjoyed the luxury of the things that money could buy. Contrary to popular belief, money COULD buy everything, including love. However, Montana Max was not especially INTERESTED in buying that sort of thing, so he didn't bother, and thus perpetuated the myth that love was blind to cash. On some occasions, however, Max did take advantage of the Rent-A-Buddy service that was available for the low, low fee of only $250 an hour per friend. Normally these specially trained custom Buddies would hang around him one at a time, for an hour or two, while he used them as dartboards, target practice, or lion fodder- whichever he was in the mood for. The day that IT happened, however, he was in an especially... ODD mood, he could call it, and for some reason had felt the need to actually surround himself with Buddies. "Ho ho, Monty, you're so witty!" said a brown-haired Buddy. "With a sense of humor like yours, it's no wonder you have so many friends!" Max snorted. "More like a bank account like mine," he grumbled. All ten of the Buddies doubled over with laughter. Man, what a bunch of idiots. Still, it felt good to hear what they were telling him, even if they were paid to do it. A blond-haired Buddy piped up, "Well, the money doesn't hurt, old Buddy old Pal, but you know we'd hang out with you even if you were poor." He couldn't quite seem to keep a straight face as he said this. Max shook his head. Buncha suck-ups. If they thought they'd get a bonus out of that kind of flattery... He looked up when a Buddy tapped him on the shoulder. "Mail for you, dear friend! It looks official, Monty, should I open it and read it to you?" "Sure, why not?" Max leaned back in his lawn chair and shut his eyes. What good was having a bunch of friends, if they didn't do menial jobs for you? He heard a tearing of paper, and a rustling sound as the Buddy prepared to read the letter to him. "Dear Montana Max," the rented friend began, and then mumbled. "Hmm." Max didn't bother to open his eyes at first. "Hey, keep readin'! What's the hold-up over there, you forget how?" It sure seemed quiet all of a sudden. He finally did open his eyes, to find that he was alone. Completely and totally alone. "What in-- HEY, you buncha dweebs, I ain't paying you to play hide-and-seek! Get your butts back here!" No answer. He picked up the letter that the Buddy had been reading, and felt his jaw turn to liquid as he read. "Dear Montana Max, Your business has bankrupted world-wide. The various losses have amounted to so much that we can't even tell you how much you owed, but we were able to pay it off with all of your fortune. Sorry, but that's the way that business works. And it's about time you learned to take care of yourself, you lazy bum. Sincerely, Mom and Dad." It took Max a while to recover from this, but after some time the shock wore off and he was able to blink again. It was only a little while before he regained feeling in his arms and legs, and when that happened he sat up and thought things over. "I'm out of money." He shuddered. "I'm... POOR." The warm spring afternoon had turned cold. A breeze caught at the back of his neck, giving him chills, and he succumbed to the grayness for a moment. But then he stood up straight. "Wait! I still have my house, furniture, and lifestyle! I can use those to start a NEW fortune! If I don't tell anyone about this, no one'll know! I was rich once, and I'll be rich again!" Filled with new resolve, his eyes fell upon another piece of paper that was lying on the grass near the letter from his parents. Humming, he picked it up and glanced at it absently. "What's this? A bill?" He read it and his world collapsed. "Bill of services for Rent-A-Buddy (tm). Ten (10) Buddies for one (1) hour at two-hundred fifty (250) dollars an hour: $2,500 PLUS TAX Your total is $2,542. But since you're out of money, we'll just have to settle for your house, furniture, and lifestyle. And don't think we won't tell anyone about this. Thank you for using Rent-A-Buddy! Come back soon if you get any more money!" *** Having your world collapse on you is really an especially unpleasant way to start your weekend. Of course, worlds collapse in different ways for different people, but it's generally agreed that it is an exceedingly unpleasant experience no matter who you are. In Max's case, it meant that he got kicked out of his house while Grovely and his family waved joyous goodbyes. It meant that he couldn't use his tab at any of his usual snotty french restaurants, and in fact couldn't even afford a Weenie Burger. And worst, it meant that everywhere he went, people laughed at him. He had the ill fortune to be walking- or rather, slumping- past Acme Loo when class let out. "Not so high and mighty now, are ya, Max?!" called Plucky as he and his friends sauntered down the steps of the school. "How's it feel down here with us commoners?" "AH, SHADDUP!" Max snapped. Buster laughed and called down to him. "Ooooh, what are you gonna do, Maxie? Make sure we never work in this town again?" "You-" "We'll be sorry, right? When we end up richer than you? You can't do anything!" Max's face turned red. "I-" Babs joined the taunting. "Watch it, Buster! I've heard there's a secret ninja technique of killing people by rubbing two pennies together! Oh, wait, we're safe... He doesn't HAVE two pennies to rub together!" Oooh, he'd have his revenge on them, all right. The rabbits especially. And the two ducks, and that stupid pig... Maybe he'd let the skunk girl off easy, she was sort of cute, and he didn't want her stinking up his mansion-- Oh, yeah. Max let his shoulders slump over, and started to walk away. Behind him, he heard the laughter cease, and heard the girl duck say, "Whoa. Mondo bad karma." Plucky answered her. "Aw, he deserves it, Shirl. He's a jerk!" Max half-grinned to himself, glad at least that the duck was letting him keep a reason to hate them all. And then Babs, BABS of all people, said the worst possible thing. "Gee... Maybe we did take it too far. I feel kinda sorry for him, Buster." Max broke into a run before he could hear Buster's reply. Not pity. ANYTHING but that!! How *dare* they pity HIM?! Montana Max looked down on everyone and everything! He'd DIE before he was the object of their pity! He fell to his knees, panting. At least, things couldn't get any worse. "Oooh, Monty-wonty, I haven't seen you all day!" said a voice behind him. Montana Max's heart sank into his feet as he realized that the day had proven him wrong yet again. "You weren't in school, and I was worried and so I was going to go home and make you some chicken-noodle soup, but now here you are waiting for me after school like a good boyfriend! Oh, Monty, I'm so HAPPY!" Elmyra smiled so widely that Max could see every single filling she had. "I'm not here for YOU, ya dweeb!" he said. He waited for the stupid smile to go away, but it didn't. It stayed plastered on her face as though she were some pathetic ventriloquist's dummy. "But you were here anyway, Monty-wonty-poo-face-head!" she announced. "THAT'S a term of endearment?!" If Max had eaten that day, he figured he would have found it hard to keep his lunch down. "Get outta my face, loser! I got better places to go!" He smacked her away as she reached to him for a hug, and started on his way. A few steps later, he stopped as depression sank over him again. "Actually...." he said quietly. "Actually, I don't have any place better to go." "Then come to my house, Monty-kins! We'll play house!" Elmyra grabbed his arm and took off down the street before he could object. ** Even if the content of the food before him was questionable, Max had to admit that it was good to be eating anything at this point. He tried a bit of the dark brown glob lying on a plate in front of him, deemed it not-entirely-inedible, and began wolfing it down so quickly he couldn't taste it. "Oh, Monty! I'm so happy you like my special mud pies so much!!" Elmyra squealed happily. Max paused. The food stayed down; didn't look like it was doing anything too bad to him. He shrugged. "So that's what this is," he muttered, and started shoving it down his throat again. Elmyra giggled. "Since you like it so much, I'll make it every night for you when we're married." THAT comment almost caused everything Max had just ingested to come right back up. "Wh-Wha- Who said- N-NO WAY!!!" He pushed away from the table. "I ain't marryin' you, you freak of nature!" "But Monty-" "I said NO! You stop talkin' like that, or I'm leaving right now! Ya got me?!" Elymra sniffled a little, looking at Max with wide eyes and her lower lip sticking out in a pout. After a few moments of this she seemed to realize that it wasn't having any effect on him, so she nodded sadly. "Okay, Monty. I guess for right now, we can just be friends..." "HEY!!! What'd I just say?" he snapped. Elmyra looked surprised for a moment, then gave a soft little sigh and nodded again. Looking at her just then gave Max an odd feeling, some sort of stomach ache. He chalked it up to disgust, and turned away from her. "Now, what other food ya got?" "Well, Monty-Wonty," said Elmyra, her tone already bright again, "let me see... I know! We can have a birthday tea party!" "Dare I ask whose birthday it is?" Max almost groaned. Without pausing, Elmyra cheerfully exclaimed, "Furball's!" Max heard a yowl of protest as she grabbed that filthy cat from somewhere. He turned around to face her again, and wasn't surprised by the sight of her squeezing the life out of the stupid animal. The dumbest thing about the creature was that it seemed at times to WILLINGLY stay around Elmyra. Like anyone in their right mind would do that. "Yeah, yeah, well let's get on with it." He grit his teeth as she burst into a series of stupid giggles, then grabbed his hand and dragged him up to her playroom. *** The tea party was set up in about five minutes, and was like something out of a nightmare. Max looked at the setup and wondered if it could be for real. It was the pinkest sight he'd ever seen. The tablecloth, the napkins, the plastic spoons, everything. Pink cloth flowers were set up in a pink paper cup in the middle of the table. The "cake" was a pink plastic toy with pink plastic icing. There also appeared to be a bite taken out of it. Max sat at the tiny table, impatiently waiting for Elmyra to dig her "best china" out from her closet. He leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin in it, grumbling to himself. What had he been reduced to? And in such short time! "Whatta revoltin' development this is," he mumbled under his breath, and turned his head to see Furball, half out of his chair, gnawing on the plastic cake. As soon as Furball realized he was being watched he stopped, gave a self-conscious cat-grin, and sat back down. Any response Max might have had for this was put on hold, as Elmyra came back into the room holding a pink-and-white china tea set on a tray. "Ta-da!" she announced. "I save this for SPECIAL occasions, Monty, 'cause it's such a pretty-special-wonderful- perfect thing!" She leaned in close to him and whispered, "It's my FAVORITE. Hee hee hee." "Like I care," Max told her. She took no note, but sat down and started passing out the china. Max, Furball, and Elmyra each got a small plate and a cup. The sugar bowl went on one side, the lemon bowl on the other, and the tea pot itself in the center. Then she carefully picked up the tea pot and tipped it over Max's cup. Nothing came out. He waited for her to take notice, but instead she went on to serve Furball. "Hey!! Is this some kinda joke?!" "Huh? I mean, I beg your pardon, Monty-Wonty?" "There's nothing in here!!" "Of course not, silly-head! You have to use your imagination! Hee hee hee!!" Max blinked. Then he blinked again. This was too much. A joke was a joke, but this was WAY too much. Especially today, of all days. He clenched his fist around the lame cup in his hand, shaking suddenly. "You- You have GOTTA BE KIDDING!!!" "No, Monty-Wonty, why would-" "AW, SHADDUP!" Actually, he was surpised he hadn't yelled before this. She was so stupid! Didn't she even realize what had happened to him? He hurled the object in his hand before he remembered what it was. As it left his hand, he wished instantly it could recall it, but a split second later the china cup smashed against the wall into a pile of pink-and-white junk. Elmyra gasped, and ran to pick up the pieces. She couldn't quite seem to fathom at first that the cup was *broken*, and for a while just stared dumbly at the shards lying on the floor. Then she reached out and picked up a piece, held it for a moment, and turned to Max with tears in her eyes. "Monty, what's wrong?" He'd expected to be yelled at, or pleaded with, or whined at, or something. But the one thing he hadn't expected from her was concern about HIM. It took him completely off-guard. "Wh-what do you care, anyway?" "I care because you're upset! And because I love you, Monty! I want to help you!" He shuddered. So, she really didn't know. Well, he could kiss his free meal goodbye once he told her. "Are you the last person to hear the news, huh? I ain't rich anymore! I'm just an ordinary lowlife, like you! I don't HAVE friends anymore! Geez, Elmyra, how could you have not known that yet? It's all anyone's been talking about! You must be dumber than I gave you credit for if you didn't-" "Of course I knew," she said seriously. "But why would I care?" He was speechless for a moment. Crossing the distance between the two of them quickly, he took her by her shoulders and spoke loudly into her face. "Put it together. I'm-not-rich. I'm-not- important. Hanging out with me won't get you anything!" Her face wasn't registering any understanding. He sighed. "I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO OFFER YOU ANYMORE!" "Is that why you think I want to be with you?" With a start he let go of her shoulders. "Yeah. Why else?" She smiled. "Because I love *you*, Monty! Not your money! Just because you don't have money doesn't mean I'm not still your friend!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him. Meanwhile, Max considered this. Somehow, having Elmyra as his friend, for good or for bad, didn't depress him as much as he'd thought it would. In fact, it sort of made things a little easier to bear. Even her hug wasn't... uh... He suddenly realized that the snapping noises he was hearing were coming from him. His lower back, to be specific. "Hey, hey, get off me, ya dweeb," he said, not ungently. She let go of him. "Friends?" "...Yeah, sure, I guess so." He caught her eyes quickly glance at the broken tea cup. "Hey, uh, I'm sorry about that." "Oh, that's okay!" she said, smiling broadly. "It wasn't important anyway." Max found himself wishing that he could buy her another one. He shrugged that impulse away and backed up from her before she could hug him again. "I'm still hungry, ya know." "Oh yeah! Well... We could go to Weenie Burgers-" This time it was Max who grabbed her by the hand and dragged her off. *** "Really? He does? Reeeeeeally?" "Yep. No foolin'." Max grinned and sat back in the booth seat as Elmyra broke into giggles. They didn't seem as annoying now. Maybe she was giggling differently lately or something. "Really, Montykins? Does Yosemite Sam *really* collect pretty handkerchiefs?" she asked again. He nodded. "But don't go telling everyone or anything. It's kind of a secret, y'know?" "Okay, you can count on me!" she said happily. She was nearly finished with her Happy-Baby-Puppy-Face meal, which, since she was paying for this time, she had thankfully ordered for herself. However, she had ordered one for Max, too. And despite the abject humiliation of being seen in public eating one of those things, he was hungry, and he had to admit- it wasn't half bad. He had finished his a few minutes ago, and now was just talking to Elmyra. And almost enjoying himself, in a way. "Well, um, let me see... You know what's funny about Professor Fudd?" She grinned, rather evilly, and leaned closer to him across the table. "He talks funny! He can't say his 'r's or 'l's right! Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee!!" Max snorted. "DUH. Man, I thought you were gonna say something interesting." Elmyra didn't answer, still ensconsed in giggles. She snorted a couple of times. Max looked at what he was stuck with, for the tenth time since arriving at the restaurant, and shook his head. Oh well, maybe she wasn't so bad. After all, she did listen well, and was responsive, and sometimes she even said something that was halfway decent for a conversation. "Excuse me, Montana Max?" said a voice behind him. "Yeah, whaddya want?" he said in mid-turn. When he turned the whole way around, he found that the speaker was some sort of delivery boy. "Telegram," answered the boy. Elmyra stopped laughing. "OooooOOOOOoooh! A singing telegram?" The boy looked uncomfortable. "Uh... no..." "Oh, please? Please, please? Make him sing it, Monty!" "Shaddup," Max said casually, and she did. Addressing the delivery boy, he said, "Yeah, get on with it already." "Uh, well, Mr... Max, it appears that there has been an error in the, um, numbers department of... Oh, shoot, I think I read it wrong..." "Give me that!" snapped Max, grabbing the telegram away from the boy. He scanned it quickly, then reread it in disbelief, and finally reread it one last time in hopes he hadn't misread it. "Dear Montana Max: It would appear that we made a slight miscalculation about your current funds. As they stand now, your businesses have not bankrupted but have in fact grossed the most money this past week than they have in months. We traced the statement error to Bubba Baxter, the son of Billy Baxter, who you may remember was the cousin of your father's roommate's dear friend. Apparently Bubba confused your account statements with his own math aptitude test (which unfortunately he has flunked yet again), and turned in the wrong results. He has been given a stern talking to and has assured us that he'll do his best to keep it from happening again. We're all crossing our fingers for Bubba in hopes he'll pass that math aptitude test this time. In the meantime, disregard previous statement about you being broke. Though it wouldn't kill you to cut your hair pretty soon. Love, Mom and Dad." Max hardly dared to breathe. The delivery boy coughed politely, his hand oustretched and awaiting payment. Max ignored him. Elmyra had been loudly asking him what was in the telegram for some time now. He ignored her, as well. "I'm rich again," he whispered. "What? Monty, what did you just say? Montykins? Monty- snuggly-bear-he--" "I'M RICH AGAIN!!!" he yelled, less in answer to her than as a joyous appreciation of the phrase. "Take THAT, Acme Acres! You can't keep Montana Max down, ya see? HAHAHAHAHA!!! And BOY are you guys gonna pay for humiliating me! Just you wait, just you all WAIT!" "Can I go now?" asked the delivery boy quietly. "Monty! That's great news!" squealed Elmyra. She reached over to hug him. He brushed her off. "Back off, dweeb!" He straightened the collar of his jacket, flicked a piece of lint off the sleeve, and sniffed. "I don't have time for the likes of you now. I have gloating to do." "Oh..." Elmyra sounded confused. "Okay. Well, then, can you come over tomorrow?" Irritation rose in Max quickly. "NO! What are you, a wax dummy?? I don't need you anymore! Get lost!" Elmyra didn't reply. She just looked, suddenly, very lost. She stood up slowly. "Okay," she said. The stomach ache feeling came back to Max all of a sudden, and he turned away from her as she left the restaurant. "MONTY old Buddy!" said one of the many Rent-A-Buddies that were suddenly surrounding him. "We hear you're back in the swing of things, old boy. Got any plans for tonight?" Max looked over his shoulder. Elmyra was standing at the door to the restaurant, looking over her shoulder at him. He swallowed. "Yes... Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," he said. "My friend Elmyra and I are going to have a tea party." Elmyra's face lit up into the happiest grin he'd ever seen on any living creature. "OH, MONTY!!!!" she squealed, and ran over to him eagerly. He took her hand and, head held high, led her from Weenie Burgers. Behind him he could hear the Rent-A-Buddies mumbling something. He didn't much care. Elmyra had a death grip on his hand, and was swinging his arm rather forcefully, but she looked happy. "Did you mean it, Monty-Wonty, when you said I was your friend?" "Yeah, sure, why not?" he said, as casually as he could. "I mean, heck, ya cost a lot less than those jerks do." "Thanks," she said happily. "Don't mention it. PLEASE." She giggled. "Well, c'mon, I'll buy you another tea cup." She looked up at him, surprised. "You don't have to!" "Hey, don't argue. I might change my mind." He glared at her. She looked at him as though she knew more than she was letting on, and smiled. *****The End.***** "Tiny Toon Adventures" characters copyrighted by Warner Bros, or something I guess. Story (c) R. Littlehales, 1997. Characters and all that good stuff used without permission. This story was not meant to infringe on anyone's rights. It may not be copied or distributed without my permission, and under no circumstances may it be sold. Thankyouverymuch, drive through please.