literature

Case in Point

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“Isn’t it kind of ironic how all the human food is advertised by ‘toons — and all the ‘toon food is advertised by humans?” Danny mused as he, Butch, Carly and Sophia crossed into the frozen food section from the foreign food aisle.

“I guess I never really noticed before,” Hartman admitted, glancing back. As the four of them drew nearer to the tall glass doors, the man looked down at his daughters. “Okay, go pick out your dinners — just one each, okay?”

“Okay,” they echoed one after the other, peering at the shelves, strolling further down, gazing up at the assortment of colorful rectangles.

Danny glanced at the shelves as he and Butch followed the girls. Suddenly, the boy stopped, his eyes widening, lips slowly curling into a smile. “No WAY…Case!” he uttered, leaning forward and squinting, then tugging open the door and reaching in, plucking out a particular turquoise box, clutching it in both hands.

Hartman raised a brow “What is it, Danny?” he asked, peering at the box as well. In addition to a rainbow-gradient logo and a real sky blue plastic tray at an angle showcasing various human finger foods, there was a picture of an enthusiastic-looking gray-eyed, spiky-haired ‘toon penguin in large red sneakers.

The boy looked up briefly. “Casey, friend of mine,” he explained, “I went to school with him…I’ve talked with him a couple times, but…I haven’t seen him in years…” Danny’s smiled faded.

Butch smiled, then again looked puzzled. “Something wrong?”

The boy looked up again. “No, why?”

“Why’d you frown like that?”
“Oh, well…just that…y’know…”

Hartman quickly glanced over to make sure Sophia and Carly hadn’t wandered out of sight, then returned his gaze to Danny. “No, I don’t,” he professed, “What?”

Danny’s brows swept into convexes, a sheepish smile on his face. “You…seriously don’t know what happens to ‘toons who sign on to be food mascots…?”

Butch shook his head, now also looking sheepish.

“Butch, why do you think you don’t see half the ‘toons you used to on cereal boxes anymore?”

The man frowned. “Well…they get dipped — but a lot of ‘toons do, I mean, I don’t see —”

“Sure, but…that’s just policy. It’s not actually in the contract…”

There was silence for a few moments, before Hartman spoke again. “You mean…the ‘toons who sign on to…they know they’re going to…?”

Danny nodded solemnly. “It’s all there in black-and-white. ‘Cuz of course the company doesn’t want them being used by anybody else, especially not a rival of theirs…”

“So…it’s…” Butch struggled to voice his conclusion, “…suicide…”

Another slow nod, the boy’s lids drooped. He sighed, looking away, then down at the box again.

“But why would…” the man began again, with a subconscious light shake of his head, “Why would they do that? Did Casey ever tell you why he…?”

“Well, from what I remember,” Danny said, looking at the man, “Apparently his Mom got real sick, and he and his sister were trying to take care of her, but they had no money, and these guys —” the boy lightly brandished the rectangle, “were the first ones to give him any sort of offer. So he took it. And since they’re  paying for his room and board, he just sends the checks home.”

Butch made a face. “But what happens when…y’know, he — they…?” he gestured, giving his hands a single shake.

“I – I dunno…” Danny professed, with a light shake of his head, and a shrug, “I mean, apparently big names pay pretty well…so…I guess…it’ll be enough…for a while, at least…”

The man blinked. He took the box from Danny and stared at it. He held it out, then drew it closer; then held it out, again and again. He wanted to help the ‘toon — but he didn’t want to endorse his corporate executioners. Looking at the boy, he asked “Will his family get the residuals?” He paused, glancing up in second-guess. “Does he get any residuals?”

“Uh, one-half-percent, I think,” Danny offered, “maybe one or two, but that’s pushing it…”

Carly and Sophia turned, each with a box in hand, only to see their father stride by with an armful of the turquoise ones, Danny following close behind with another couple basketfuls, calling out, “Boss, wait!”

It was 2:14AM. Casey sat in his room, on the edge of his bed, letting his feet dangle, lightly and idly kicking. The lights were off, but the stars and bright moon shone through his window.

He glanced over at the small round table, piled with papers. One of the sheets was his contract. Its expiration date was at hand. He’d plainly discussed — or more so, been talked down to about — the inevitable early the previous morning. Eerily enough, they’d wished him well in his last twenty-four hours. He’d tried to make the most of it, spending several hours outside, just walking, smelling flowers, talking to as many strangers as would let him have a conversation that didn’t involve the food he’d been promoting, and indulged every other impulse that came to him.

Casey’d never thought that rolling down a grassy hill could’ve felt like such an accomplishment, but lying at its foot, staring up at a cotton-cloud-padded sapphire sky, he felt somehow that he’d made his own mark on the world, even if the grass would later be groomed again, and his tumble ultimately erased.

Sighing, he gazed down at the floor. Hopping down, he crouched and reached into his knapsack, wrapping his fingers around a faded red binding and lifted out a sizable hardcover book, with gold embossed cursive on the front. MARION MELODY ELEMENTARY 1991. He set the spine in his lap and pulled it apart, scanning all of the black-and-white text and photos. He leafed through to the Fourth Grade class; then curled his fingers around the edge again, slowly scanning the rows, signatures of various shape, size, and color scattered sparsely across them, a scant few in the margins.

His gaze paused on one particular face. Looking at the clock again, he felt another urge, and pulled out his phone, flipping it open and scrolling down his list of contacts, highlighting a number he hadn’t dialed in years, and punched ‘Send’.

Danny heard his phone’s ring from beneath the pillow, sliding a hand up to his nightstand and grasping the phone as he rose to a sit. His eyes widened as he saw the name of the incoming caller, and quickly jabbed ‘Send’ as well, pressing the speaker to his ear. “Case!” he said, smiling.

“Hi, Danny,” the penguin replied, softly, but happily.

“What’s up?” the boy asked.

Casey shrugged. “Eh, nothing. Same’s usual. Just sittin’ around, thinkin’…what’re you up to?”

“I was sleeping, actually,” Danny admitted.

“Oh, sorry…!” Casey said quickly in a more whispering tone, brows convex.

“Nah, it’s cool,” the blue-eyed one insisted, sliding the pillow up against the headboard and leaning back on it. “Hey, man, you know I don’t sleep much anyway…” The two shared a chuckle.

“So what’s been up with you? I haven’t heard from you in seven years, man!” The penguin said with a grin and a brief sweeping gesture, “You finally get some work?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got a job,” Danny replied.

“Don’t tell me —” The gray-eyed one began with an audible wide smirk, “Tommy Watts has you signed on as his personal birthday clown, right?”

Danny laughed. The penguin joined in.

“And a year’s supply of cake —”

“No, I — I, uh…” Danny began, his grin beginning to fade. “I’ve…I – I’ve got a…” He tried to stop himself, but finished in almost an indecipherable mumble. “I’ve got a show.”

“You what?” Casey said, still smiling.

Flinching, Danny repeated more clearly. “I’ve got a show, now.”

There was a small silence. “Oh…” The penguin’s voice was soft again. “So…you…— well, hey, how’d you get a break like that?” He added, with a light shake of his head, “I’m happy for you.”

Danny smiled again, though his brows were sharply convex. “Well, I — I was…just…walking down — er, from — out of…Vegas…and, um…this guy, this human…comes up — he drives up in a big…truck…and says ‘Hey, you! Where’re you going?’ and I’m like ‘I…don’t know, man’, heh…”

Casey let out a monosyllabic chuckle, but remained quiet.

“So he says ‘Get in’ and we start talking, and…he liked my weirdo family, so — well, and the superhero thing, so…yeah…”

Another silence. The penguin shook his head with a little more vigor, looking down. “You’re lucky, man, you’re just…really lucky…” He paused. “So no auditions or anything, huh?”

“Oh — oh, no, believe me, I auditioned…I had…tons…of auditions…in Vegas, in Salt Lake, Kansas City…I was everywhere…but…I guess I just…” he paused, frowning, “got…lucky…”

“Man, I remember…” Casey began, but trailed off. There was more silence.

Danny cleared his throat, “So, uh…” he continued with a little more energy, “How’s your Mom?”

The penguin was still staring down at the floor with hazy eyes. “My Grandpa Tennessee once told me ‘Whether you fail or not, always do what you think is right’…and I said to him…’But Grandpa, you always say you never fail’…and he said ‘That’s because I’m always doing what I know is right, so I know I’ll never fail’…”

The boy blinked. “That’s…” but trailed off as well, uttering a few soft syllables.

“Did I fail, Danny?” Casey asked in a whisper, lump audibly forming in his throat.

The blue-eyed one sat up straighter, pressing the phone harder to his ear. “I don’t think you failed, Case!”

“I kept trying…I kept auditioning, but I never got anything…” the penguin went on, “Finally, I threw myself at the Kid Cuisine people and they said ‘Sign here, and we’ll take you. We’ll give you all the money you need for food and heat and medications…’”

Danny frowned, remaining silent.

“And I told Mom and Cindy,” Casey said, sitting up and forward, eyes hazed, “and I asked Mom if she wanted me to stay with her…and she said no, ‘Cindy can stay with me’ and…she said ‘Do what you have to do’…I – I just think…she thought it was something else…or…”

“Case, I —” the boy began.

“I just didn’t want to hear her coughing so much anymore,” the penguin professed weakly, “Danny…did I do the right thing?”

“I —”
“If it was your Mom and your sister, would you’ve done it?”

Danny paused, imagining Maddie lying ill on the couch, with Jazz tending to her, the redhead looking forlornly up at him. “I — I dunno, I’m not —”

Suddenly, Casey scoffed, snorting. “You’re a HUMAN!” he suddenly blurted, a barb in his voice. “Of course you wouldn’t know! Of COURSE you wouldn’t understand! Humans love humans! Of course you get a break and I don’t! Of COURSE you —!”

“I’m NOT a human — I am NOT A HUMAN!” Danny quickly rebutted, “Case, just calm down — calm down. Everything’s gonna be okay —”

“NO IT’S NOT!” the penguin’s bellowing voice distorted through the speaker, “I’m gonna DIE, I’m NOT gonna be okay!”

“CASE!” Danny shouted. Finally, the gray-eyed one was quiet. Quickly, the boy expounded “Look, your Mom’s gonna be okay, your sister’s gonna be okay…it’ll…be okay…”

“I want some real food,” the penguin said more softly, gazing across at his own personal microwave, stacked with empty plastic trays, on top of a mini-fridge-and-freezer, stuffed with nothing but turquoise boxes. “If I see another elbow macaroni or chicken…whatever the crap it is this month — I think I’m gonna puke!” he babbled.

Danny chuckled, though his brows were still convex. More silence, then Casey sighed.

“When I get there…the first thing I’m gonna have is a ham sandwich…on rye bread, those big huge slices they have sometimes…with mustard…”

“And Swiss cheese?” the boy ventured.

“No! God no, no cheese…!” the penguin replied, though he let out a weak chuckle, which Danny echoed.

Casey glanced at the clock. 5:30AM. “Hey, Danny…?” he began.

“Yeah?”
“Thanks…for talking with me…”

“Sure, no problem,” the boy said, smiling again, “Anytime, man…”

“Hey, Danny…could you call Cindy for me?” The penguin asked, his tone anxious but hushed, “Tell her the check should be there tomorrow…they said they sent it out Monday, but I called Wednesday and asked if she’d got it, and she said no…so I called ‘em back and told ‘em, and they said ‘It’s gotta be there’ and I said ‘Well, I checked, and…it’s not, so…’, heh…and then after jerking around with this guy for FIVE HOURS, finally he said ‘We’ll check our files and we’ll send you a new one’…”

“O-Okay, sure, I’ll call her,” Danny replied, “What’s the number?” As Casey began to recite it, the boy fumbled for a piece of paper and a pen. Finding both, he began to scribble the sequence down.

“Thanks…” Casey said, smiling.

Soon, there was a loud knock at the penguin’s door. He turned. Danny twitched, sitting up.

“Sorry, Danny, I gotta go…”

The boy smiled. “Early shoot?”

Casey gazed out with hazy eyes. “No…they’re gonna do it…”

The blue-eyed one blinked. “Do what?”

“I’m goin’ the way of Beej and the Chef today, man…”

Danny’s eyes widened, his brows sharply convex, jaw dropped. “TODAY? No, wait —!“

“Tell sis I’ll be with Grandpa…”

“You mean I’m the…—!” the boy began, feeling the pang of tears, cutting himself off, “A-aren’t you gonna call your Mom?” he asked.

“Just call Cindy for me, okay?”
“Case!”

The penguin slowly closed the phone as the door opened. Danny heard the connection sever as the faint noises turned to complete silence.

“Case? ...Case?! CASE!”

The boy sat very still, his eyes hazing, watering. He flinched, lips quivering. Punching the ‘Send’ button again, he put the phone back to his ear. He listened to it ring, the trills long and low, like drawn out sobs. Danny pressed the speaker harder to his ear, as if the pressure would speed the connection.

“Pick up, Case, pick up, Case…please pick up, Case!”

He heard clicking, but then only a voice recording. The boy clenched the phone shut in his fist, wincing. He lay his head back against the headboard, then pounded it a few times.

The last conversation his friend would ever have, why did he have to go on about his success, and try and so horribly fail to downplay it? Casey was obviously feeling stressed about everything, why hadn’t he just shut up and talked for hours about Tommy Watts and birthday parties? Instead of leaving him with happy memories, he’d dredged up all sorts of anxieties. He could’ve at least made a better joke than another jab about cheese. Dammnit, dammnit.

Not that Casey had come out and told him from the beginning that these were his last hours, but seeing as they barely talked for almost a decade, he should’ve figured it was something more important. And now it was too late. Did Casey still hate him for being human-form? Probably — and he hadn’t done anything to help it.

He looked at his phone again, thinking of trying the number again. Maybe, just maybe…

Danny glimpsed the paper and the pen scratches. He had to call Cindy, it was the very least he could do for him. Their conversation would probably be far more awkward. For a moment, he stared out into the darkness. He remembered school, and spending time with Casey. He should’ve said something about that. He should’ve said anything besides everything that he had said.

“Case, I’m sorry, I am SO SORRY…!” he whispered, sniffling and wiping his eyes. Closing them, he imagined the penguin standing with his famous grandfather, the two of them talking, then sitting down to lunch and having giant ham-and-mustard-on-rye sandwiches, and smiled at the thought.

Still clutching the phone, he slowly slid back down, lying on his back, the pillow flopping down over his face. Setting the phone back on the corner of his nightstand, along with the paper, he tugged the pillow down over his head and let out a long, breathy sigh.

“G’night, Case…” he mumbled before finally falling back to sleep.
I seriously do not know where this came from. Yes, it's an angst fic about a freakin' frozen food mascot! Probably has to do with said mascot being also voiced by David Kaufman.

Casey's late Grandpa Tennessee is, yes, Tennessee Tuxedo.

Will probably write better comments when I'm not so exausted. :faint:
© 2008 - 2024 Chouhatsu-Itsudatsu
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Karnelia's avatar
You are probably the only person in the world who can make me want to buy those nasty frozen dinner things, if only to support the 'toon mascots. I bet advertisers could hire you and you could really get people to buy anything. Gosh, do you realize how much of a mind trip that is? It's like the evil guys who aren't really evil hiring you to save the 'toons that don't really exist by selling their products.

Haha, sorry for the little rambling there...XD

Anyway, it STILL made me tear up after reading it again, which is like AMAZING since it's difficult for fics to make me cry (which this one did several times, darn you >.> ). And for a FOOD MASCOT who I never really payed attention to before.

I find this really interesting because it is such a barbaric thing that people know is going on, yet it is so believable in your human/'toon universe. And it's like +50 evil right there that they wished him well on his last day *shiver* How I do love the ironic creepy factors in stories, and you've always got it nailed.

Yeah, so great writing as usual X3 But you already knew that I like it from way back, so I'll stop taking up space now XD *HUGSQUISH*~<3