John’s stomach rumbled loudly and moved about on a circle, much to his embarrassment.
Carrie stifled another gigglechitter as she responded, “I guess that settles that.”
The two of them proceeded down the street looking for a bite to eat. John hummed a tune under his breath, practically bouncing along, while Carrie floated slightly in the air next to him. Neither of them noticed flowers were wilting behind John. As they approached others, those others either stood as far back against a building to let them pass, or fled altogether.
Every time they approached a restaurant, either the sign was quickly flipped to CLOSED with the shade drawn and a pair of beady eyes watched them pass or the door was slammed and boarded shut, with the nails protruding through the door. John frowned realizing he was causing all the fear.
“Perhaps we’ll have to settle for take-out.”
Carrie then spied a café across the street that remained open. “Look dear!” she pointed excitedly. From where they stood, they could see a sign in the window, “All welcome.”
They quickly crossed the street, narrowly avoiding being run down by a van that appeared out of nowhere. The van veered at the last minute seeing John’s striped tail. As they approached the entrance, a rather tall, wide human-toon stepped out the doorway blocking their way. He quickly placed a clothespin on his nose.
“Parrr-don,” the matradee stated in a poor Franglais accent, blocking their way. “I can’t let vouz entre.”
Carrie glared at the matradee and pointed to the sign with her tail. “Your sign states you welcome everyone.”
“Oui, madame, but Mouzure Mouffette (Skunk),” the matradee looked at John, “he needs to put a knot in hez tail first. If I let every mouffette in without first doing so, I would soon be out of business.”
“But,” Carrie started to protest, but John hushed her. “It eeze alright my little pumpkin. We’re toons, right?”
Carrie nodded.
“Then it shouldn’t hurt much.” John proceeded to try tying a knot in his tail, but couldn’t get it to stay. In his frustration, he lost control, spraying a nearby shade tree. The tree turned brown, then black and crumbled to dust. John dropped his tail as he blushed enough for it to show through his maroon fur. “Pardon me.”
“It eeze no problem. I’ll call Bugzy.” The matradee pulled a small bell out of his sleeve, rang it once and slipped it away.
A large thug with practically no nose squeezed out of the doorway. “Yeah, boss?”
The matradee pointed to John. “Tail.” He then spoke to John. “It will only take zee moment. He’s good at his work.”
The thug grinned deviously and cracked his knuckles. John backed-up hesitantly.