Chapter Text
Once the fundraiser ended, Bugs had insisted on dropping Lola off at the pier from where she could take the boat to Frankenbeans castle, which she now owned. Lola had refused initially, as the way to the pier was in the opposite direction from Bunny Manor, but eventually gave in to Bug’s charm.
After seeing her off and exchanging friendly pecks on the cheek, Bugs loosened his tie and put his feet up. With a deep sigh, he said, “What a night, huh?”
“Uh-buh-buh-I take it the night wasn’t a c-complete waste though, Master Bugs?” Porky said from the driver’s seat.
“Maybe not,” Bugs said, gazing out the window. “Porky, wake me up when we get back. I need to catch up on some Z’s before heading out.”
“You’re not suggesting going out c-c-crimefighting t-tonight, are you?”
“What else would I be suggesting, Porky?”
“D-don’t you think you ought to take the night off?”
“You know I can’t,” Bugs said. “Now more than ever, the city needs me.”
“Why not let D-d-daffy handle the crime for a night?”
“Because…” Bugs said with a sigh. “I’m worried for him. ACME is using him for their own means. He might end up helping the wrong people without realizing it. I can’t let that happen.”
[…]
An hour later, Haredevil patrolled through the dark streets of New Toluca, which had become the primary battleground for the Alley Cats and ACME. Over the past ten days, Butch had seriously weakened the Triads in the northern parts of the district and taken over some of the neighborhoods surrounding Chinatown, essentially giving himself a buffer between ACME territory and Madd Mile – the Alley Cat heartland.
Despite increased police activity in the area, the violence was showing no signs of stopping. Three police officers had already been killed and a dozen injured in the conflict. What nighttime activity that could once be found in the streets of New Toluca had largely ceased, as people were now too afraid to leave their homes once the sun went down. The city’s second safest district had now descended into chaos.
The Bunnymobile zoomed through the streets, a crime-vessel on wheels dispersing justice as it went. It was already proving to be one of Haredevil’s busiest nights in a while, and he hadn’t even hit the usual hotspots of criminal activity.
“Eh- come in, Bugs,” Porky’s voice spoke on the Bunnymobile’s comms.
“Go on.”
“I’m getting reports of something serious going down at the m-m-museum,” Porky said.
“The museum?” Bugs repeated. “The Alley Cats have gotten that far already?”
“I don’t know for certain if it’s them.”
“It’s not an unreasonable assumption,” Bugs said. “I’ll go check it out.”
“Be careful.”
“You know I always am.”
Porky scoffed and the call ended. Bugs took a left turn and began heading north. The Tolucaville Museum was a grand, white marble building with a great glass dome. The police hadn’t yet arrived by the time Bugs reached, but he could already hear the alarms inside. He parked the Bunnymobile in a nearby alley and grappled onto the roof of the museum, opening a hatch in the glass dome and slowly gliding down, landing gracefully in the dark museum lobby.
The instant he touched down, his ears twitched.
Something was wrong.
Before he could even stand back up, suddenly all the lights turned on and the alarms stopped. Bugs squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. The sounds of boots and loaded guns erupted all around him as a dozen armed police officers emerged from their hiding spots, surrounding him completely.
“TCPD, WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!” an officer shouted. “HANDS IN THE AIR, HAREDEVIL!”
Bugs snarled and looked around. An ambush, a dozen guns pointed at him. He had to think fast. He was still crouched – his cape concealed most of his form, so he detached as many smoke grenades from his belt as his hands could hold and threw them around him, creating a smokescreen. Then he took out his grappling gun and fired it at the dome, lifting himself up out the hatch and dodging gunfire as he went. A helicopter had shown up outside, pointing its light on him.
“HAREDEVIL, STAND DOWN – WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED,” blared the chopper’s loudspeaker.
Bugs ran over to the edge of the roof and jumped – using his cape to glide across the street into the alley where the Bunnymobile was hidden. He climbed into the vehicle and quickly started it. A message from Spike from three minutes ago displayed across the car’s computer screen.
‘DO NOT GO TO THE MUSEUM – IT’S A TRAP.’
Haredevil cursed under his breath – had he taken even a minute longer to get here, he would have gotten the message and could have avoided this mess, but no time for that now. He zoomed out the alley, dodging two police cars as he did and zoomed off into the night.
He managed to lose the police cars on his tail – the Bunnymobile’s speed and maneuvering were after all, second to none. Once he was sure he’d lost them, he rung up Porky.
“Master Bugs? Is everything al-alright? I’m picking up heavy police activity around the museum.”
“There was no emergency at the museum, Pork,” Bugs said. “It was an ambush – by the TCPD task force.”
“An am-am-ambush?!” Porky stammered. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine but that was a close call,” Bugs said. “Lieutenant Spike sent me a warning but it missed me by a minute. I’m coming back to the lair for now.”
“Very well, sir,” Porky said.
The call cut and Bugs began to head back to the manor. Just as the Bunnymobile took a sharp turn past Barbera Street, Bugs’ ears twitched.
Too late.
A blinding flash of headlights surged from the side — BOOM! — an armored TCPD riot truck slammed full force into the Bunnymobile, flipping it onto its side in a spray of sparks and shrapnel. The Bunnymobile skidded, upside down, into a wall and stopped.
Bugs groaned inside the wreck, blood trickling from his brow. He unbuckled the harness and crawled out of the Bunnymobile onto the street. Two armoured policemen got out the front of the van.
“Alright Haredevil,” one of them said. “Let’s see you handle a real devil.”
He opened the back of the truck, and monstrous shape spun out of the back of the police truck — a living whirlwind of brown fur, drool, and rage. It landed with a snarl, cracking the pavement beneath its clawed feet.
“All the way from sunny Tasmania! Give em hell, Taz!”
Taz didn’t speak. He howled, then spun toward Bugs at terrifying speed. Bugs just barely backflipped over the attack, missing the beast’s claws by mere inches. He landed hard and threw a Bunnyrang at Taz, but he caught it in his mouth. He bit down hard and shattered the steel projectile into pieces with his bare teeth, then grinned at Bugs. He lunged forward with frightening speed – Bugs stepped to the side and struck back. Three punches, fast and clean. One connected with Taz’s jaw, another with his gut and the third on his side. The beast stumbled, and for a second, Bugs thought he might have an edge.
Then Taz roared and backhanded him, knocking him to the ground. He then grabbed Bugs by the leg, and swung him in a circle before hurling him straight into a dumpster. Bugs crashed through the metal, rolled, and stumbled back up.
He unclipped two small bombs from his belt and threw them at him, but Taz spun again, faster this time, and the bombs were deflected and exploded midair. Realizing he was outmatched, Bugs threw a smoke pellet and tried to grapple up to a fire escape, but Taz launched through the smoke and snatched him midair.
They slammed into the ground together. Bugs struggled underneath him, elbowed the beast twice, but Taz only growled and smashed his fists into Bugs’ ribs. Once. Twice.
Bugs coughed, gasping for breath.
“Should’ve... stayed in... tonight,” he wheezed.
Taz then delivered a final fist right to Bug’s face, and the world turned black.
[…]
(Meanwhile, at the Cat & Mouse Detectives)
Ever since they’d helped Haredevil with the Taxi business and found out where the missing dogs were ending up (and nearly gotten killed by a dangerous assassin and giant red furry monster), the Cat and Mouse detectives hadn’t had much to do. At first, Tom had welcomed the peace and quiet, but after a few days it had worn off, and he was bored out of his mind once more. You would think, that with crime going through the roof in the city they would be drowning in work but alas, this was not the case. That’s the thing about gang warfare – it left very little room for mystery.
This is why, when the doorbell rang, Tom’s eyes lit up. A visitor at this hour only ever meant one thing – a case.
“Turn that crap off,” he said to Jerry as he walked over to the door. The mouse was watching the news – listening to the mayor harp on and on about how much of a menace Haredevil was. Tom had no time for such rubbish, he was lost in thoughts of what juicy case was being served to them – what crime could be so grave, what crisis so dire that it would compel a person to traverse across the dangerous city in the dead of night to seek justice?
“Cat and Mouse detectives – at your service!” Tom said, with uncharacteristic excitement as he opened the door. Yet there was no one outside the apartment. Tom blinked and looked around – still no one.
“Eh, senor? Down here.”
Tom looks down at the ground and saw a brown mouse dressed in white, with long whiskers and an oversized yellow sombrero standing by his feet.
“Hey- uh, how can I help you?” Tom said.
“Is Jerry home?”
“Uh, yes-”
“Speedy!” Jerry exclaimed and ran between Tom’s legs to hug the newcomer – apparently named Speedy.
“Cousin Jerry!” Speedy said as he embraced Jerry. “So good to see you again!”
“It’s been too long, buddy, come on in,” Jerry said, leading Speedy into the apartment and closing the door behind them. He then turned to Tom. “Tom, this is my cousin from Mexico, Speedy Gonzales! Speedy, this is my best friend, Tom!”
“Pleasure to finally meet you, senor!”
“Likewise,” Tom said. “Hey, wait I know you – you’re that famous racer mouse, aren’t you.”
“Guilty as charged,” Speedy said sheepishly. “Five-time winner of the Pan-American Marathon!”
“Yeah that one,” Tom said. “So what brings ya here?
“Ah,” Speedy said, taking off his hat and jumping onto the sofa. “This year the Marathon was being held in Mexico, you see. The cartel boss bribed all the racers to lose deliberately so that his nephew would win the gold. The ones who didn’t accept the bribe were threatened at gunpoint.”
“So you’ve come here to escape the cartel because you didn’t accept their offer?” Tom guessed.
“No no, I accepted the bribe,” Speedy chuckled. “Of course I did. I took the money and then won anyway.”
“Oh,” said Tom. “And now the cartel is hunting you.”
“Si.”
“And you need our help to sort out this cartel problem?”
Speedy chuckled again. “Oh, no no senor nothing like that! This is hardly the first time I’ve run into problems with the cartel, but they can never catch me so they just give up after some time. I’m just here to lay low for a bit.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, Speedy,” Jerry said happily. “You hungry? Thirsty?”
“Oh no, I’m fine, cousin Jerry,” Speedy said. “Come, sit, we have so much catching up to do! You must tell me some detective stories!”
“Well, I dunno, those are usually uh, morbid.”
“Nonsense,” Speedy waved a hand at him. “I’ve seen 3 cartel executions with my own eyes, I can handle stories of some gringo thugs shooting each other.”
“Hmm, alright then,” Jerry said. “So our last case was pretty crazy, it started with-”
“Quiet,” Tom said, eyes fixed on the TV.
“Pardon?” Jerry said, annoyedly.
“Where’s the remote, turn the volume up,” Tom said.
Jerry’s eyes fell on the TV. Breaking news was blaring across the screen.
‘CITY REJOICES: HAREDEVIL ARRESTED BY TASK FORCE!’
“Jesus Christ…” Tom said, rubbing his forehead.
“We have to help him,” Jerry said.
“I know but what can we do?” Tom said.
“Try calling the lieutenant,” Jerry suggested.
“If there was something he could do to stop this he’d have done it already,” Tom said. “This wasn’t in his precinct either.”
Jerry rubbed his chin, then looked at Speedy, who looked confused.
“Er… what’s exactly going on, cousin Jer?”
“Speedy… I have a mission for you. You up to it?”
Speedy grinned. “Always.”
[…]
Haredevil regained consciousness in the back of a moving police car. He was wearing handcuffs, his utility belt was gone, but his mask was still on. No doubt the cops who’d tried removing it would have gotten a nasty zap.
His body hurt, all of it, and he was pretty sure some of his ribs were broken, but he did his best to not let out any sound so as not to alert the two officers sitting in the front. His mind scrambled, trying to think of a plan – a way of getting out of here, but a throbbing headache was making that impossible. He had no tools or gadgets, his hands were bound, his body was too sore and his mind too scattered to do anything.
This was bad.
As they turned onto the Main Boulevard the traffic started getting heavier – and they got stuck at a crowded red light. One of the cops happened to look in the rearview mirror and noticed Bugs shifting awake.
“Well, well, looks like sleeping beauty is up!”
He and his partner chuckled. Then suddenly the window on the drivers seat shattered and a small white blur zoomed in, hitting both the cops in the face and knocking them out cold.
Haredevil blinked as he saw a small brown mouse, clad in white with an oversized yellow sombrero hop onto the backseat with him.
“Jerry…?”
“Ahh, no senor,” the mouse said with a Hispanic accent. “I’m Jerry’s cousin, Speedy! Speedy Gonzalez – the fastest mouse in Mexico! He saw the news and sent me to rescue you!”
“Huh… alright then doc,” Bugs said. “Help get these cuffs off me.”
“On it!” Speedy twisted three of his whiskers together and stuck them in the keyhole, shifting and turning until there was a ‘click’ and the cuffs opened.
“You know you could have just taken the keys.”
“I know, but I wanted to do that,” Speedy shrugged. “Come on now senor, we haven’t much time.”
They quickly got out the car and ducked into a nearby alley before they could be seen.
“Let’s get you back to the apartment,” Speedy said.
[…]
“Oh my, my, what did that monster do to you?” Porky said as he tended to Bugs’ wounds back at Tom and Jerry’s apartment – who had been smart enough to send an alert via the communications channel to the Terminal.
“It’s nothing, Porky, I’ve had worse,” Bugs said.
“Regardless, that thing is a proper monster,” Tom said. “How are you gonna beat it?”
“I can’t,” Haredevil said. “But I know someone who might be able to.”
“Who?” Tom asked.
“The only thing that might be able to beat Taz in brute strength. We’re gonna have to fight fire with fire – beast with beast.”
Jerry froze.
“You’re not suggesting-?”
“I am.”
“Have you checked him for concussions?” Tom said to Porky.
“Listen – Gossamer may seem like a monster, but he’s not evil,” Bugs said. “I’ve been monitoring his behavior – what little I can. He hasn’t attacked anyone, not even animals. He’s intelligent. What happened on the island that night seems to me more like the actions of a creature that was scared and hurt. If we plan this right, we might be able to befriend him.”
There was silence for a few moments. Stunned silence.
“Glad we all agree, then,” Bugs said.
There was a knock on the door. Tom checked and then opened. Spike hurried in.
“Alright, I checked with my guy at the precinct,” he panted. “Your car’s in the impound lot and your belt is in the precinct armory. I can arrange an opening for the little fast mouse to sneak in and get it for ya. The car will be trickier though.”
“Senor, trust me, I can drive. I’m fast enough to move from the pedals to the wheel and back!”
Spike looked to Jerry, who nodded.
“Alrighty then… also, you should get going soon,” Spike said to Bugs.
“Agreed,” Tom said. “This place isn’t safe.”
“We’ll disguise him,” Jerry said. “Then sneak him out.”
“Can we uh… keep the mask on?” Bugs said.
“And be spotted from a mile away?” Tom said. “Listen man, I get why you keep your identity secret but if you haven’t learned to trust us by now…”
“Alright, alright, sheesh,” Bugs said, and he took off his mask.
The room went silent.
“BUGS BUNNY?!” Jerry and Spike said in unison.
“Bugs Bunny?!” Speedy gasped dramatically. “Er… who’s Bugs Bunny, anyway?”
Tom thrust his fist in the air.
“I knew it!”
[…]
(Meanwhile, at ACME Tower, top floor)
Mr. Luther J. Chairman, chairman of ACME Inc., was sitting on his desk. His back was to the rest of his dark office as he gazed out the massive windows at the Tolucaville skyline. A faint green light appeared behind him.
“Why weren’t you at the museum tonight, Mr. Dodgers?” he spoke slowly, deliberately.
“I was… occupied elsewhere,” Daffy Duck – aka Duck Dodgers – said in a low voice.
“If you had been there, as you were supposed to, Haredevil would have been captured instantly. Taz would not have been needed, and Haredevil would CERTAINLY HAVE NOT ESCAPED!”
“It was my first night as a superhero, cut me some slack, man.”
Chairman inhaled sharply.
“This is your first – and final – warning, Duck. No more failures.”
“You got it, boss!” Daffy said with mock enthusiasm, then turned around and left without saying another word.
“Tina? Get in here,” Chairman said on the intercom.
His secretary, a young white duck with long brown hair walked in.
“Yes boss?”
“Keep an eye on our new friend,” he said. “I want to make sure his loyalty does not… waver.”
“Yes boss.”