It was another day as usual for the tricolored Skunk. Or, at least it seemed as such when it began. Onion was at his usual job at Alpha Animation Studios, slaving over his desk with heaps of sheet music cluttered in every possible corner of his little studio he was given as part of the job. He was in charge of the creation of just about every major score the studio puts in it’s cartoons, so, you know. No pressure. Today, he was in crunch time finishing the music for their latest major cartoon. Something about boy-meets-girl and all the toony madness that ensues in his pursuit, until he finally wins her over. Yadda yadda yadda, the usual. He was too exhausted to remember the details.
It was just getting to the point where he began to think he’d have to go to Alpha, the owner of the studio, to ask for more time, when two others burst into the room! A lanky, springy, identical ferret duo that went by the names Squash and Stretch. Was Squash on the left, or the right, you ask?
“Pack it up, band nerd!” “Zip ran into a camera again, everyone’s getting off early today!”
Before he could even respond, the duo ducked out of his studio like a pair of slinkies, the sound of them bursting into each office down his hall and repeating the same line with different nicknames echoing quieter and quieter until the two were too far away to notice. Well, guess he was getting saved by the bell! He had the whole weekend to come up with something at home. With a yawn, the Skunk scrounged together what sheet music he deemed useful into an old messenger bag, and eventually found his way out of the studio.
It couldn’t have been later than noon, and already he was ready to drop into his bed and call it a day. But he had to finish that tune…
Onion’s mind was mostly preoccupied with various musical ramblings on his way back to his apartment, while occasionally glancing at different women and couples on the street to see what sounds they inspired. A cat couple on a date here… a couple cows on a stroll over there…
“D-E-F-G-E- C-D~…” He muttered to himself in a hum.
Gah, no. Thats been done a million times. Okay, lets see… A bird couple having dinner outside a cafe… too jazzy… A couple of droopy dogs sitting on the steps of a rundown building… Ehh, too blues. A Skunk pulling a rocket out of her pocket for a poorly made mannequin. Too…
Next thing he knew, things were crashing and burning left and right! Instinctively, he took cover behind the nearest park bench, narrowly avoiding the ensuing carnage of explosions as fireworks whizzed right by him! By the time it was over, Onion peeked out from behind the bench to see destruction, surrounding a defeated looking girl…
For a moment, a tune found it’s way into his head… … Wait, that was it! He scrambled for a piece of sheet music and put pen to paper. It… wait, how did it go again…? Alas, just like that, he lost it.
With a huff, he put the paper and pen away, and looked back over to the lone skunk, slung his bag back over his shoulder, and walked over.
Approaching from behind, Onion peeked around her with a curious look on his face. “Pardon me, ah… Are you and your…” He glanced at the mannequin. “…friend. Ahem. Are you alright?” he asked. His mild movements keeping his onionskin frames fairly unnoticeable at the time.
Sydney’s attention shifted from her woes toward the voice, and she turned to find that the source of it were a fellow toon skunk looking quite concerned. What’s new? Sydney, well used to dealing with the concern and anger of toons subject to her failed performance attempts, was not surprised the other toon had thought to approach with such a question.
A nonchalant smile presented her relaxation with the situation, “I’m fine, thanks. Trust me, this is not my first accident.”
“Him?” she glanced over to the mannequin, a tiny flames ablaze its many branches, and tipped it over with a push of her finger. “He’s not doin’ too hot.”
“What about you? Are you okay? You know, it wasn’t supposed to happen the way it did. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I’m uh..still..practicing.”
Now that she had a better look at him, Sydney could see he must have been a passerby. No one she knew of would appear so tired and bogged down with a satchel of - what was that sticking out, sheet music? - if they were deliberately out to enjoy the park. She wondered where he’d come from, and why he dressed so well-kept. Certainly he must be coming from a place much classier than the poor scene he’d just stumbled upon.
