The moon's light breaks through the clouds, shining upon the steel-lined structures of ACME Corporation. Distant splashes of the water resound the salty air as the convertible parks between the warehouses. Ralph, clad in navy-trimmed ninja garments, steps out of the car. Following him out is Pepé, undressed save for a shoulder bag packed with vials, darts, and round bomb shells. Pepé looks perplexed at the wolf's appearance. "You're not seriously wearing that, are you?"

"I ordered the outfit for Wiles, but between the two of us…" Ralph glances at Wile, sitting cross-legged at the hood of the car, and whispers, "I've seen him do stealth, and it ain't pretty."

"I can hear you," Wile E. comments, typing away at the laptop. "But you're right about one thing: as far as sneaking in goes, you two are the best match. Me and Sylv will keep watch and handle the tech stuff. So long as you keep your trackers and earpieces on, you're covered." He pauses to take a gander at Ralph. "You look cool in that outfit. It suits you."

Ralph, blushing profusely, hastily puts on his cowl to hide his face.

"Alright, let's quit flirting and get to it before the guards catch onto us," Sylvester cuts in. "Pepé's the one most experienced with handling chemical substances, so he'll be responsible for retrieving the Illudium. As for you, Ralph… I have a special mission for you."

He pulls Ralph aside, just outside of Pepé's hearing range, and speaks softly. "In the Executive building, there's an office on the HR floor with work records of every ACME employee since the company's creation. Of those employees, one was marked as the project lead in the experimentation of Illudium: Henri La Moufette. Your mission is to go in and dig up what you can of his research. Capisce?"

"Capisce. Though if I can ask…" Ralph thinks back to his conversation with Wile E. on the ferris wheel. It's a stretch, but if he can find the connection between his father and the company… "Did you mean it when you said every employee?"

"Yes, but don't go scouring around carelessly. Just focus on finding La Moufette's files and get out. The faster you finish, the better your chances of not getting caught."

A twinge of doubt crosses the wolf's psyche. Sylvester is not the most stealth-minded and can be prone to making reckless choices, but talking about this mission, one cannot help but feel as if there's some underlying motive behind it. Still, as a self-proclaimed professional, Ralph has to put his faith in his client and not make his doubts vocal. With a grin, he says, "Gotcha. I'll be in and out in a blink. You can count on it." No rules against snatching myself a bonus prize in the meantime, he muses to himself slyly.

By the time they return, Pepé has already unscrewed the gate to the vent. "Wile E. and I were reviewing the blueprints while you were away. I can sneak my way around easily through the vent system. Ralph can go find a window or something."

"Fine by me. But isn't carrying all that stuff," he points at the shoulder sash, "a bit excessive? You're a skunk—you already have built-in tear gas!"

Pepé's brows rise, and then he smiles, as if to save face. "So I do, but I am not made of the stuff. If I run out, I'll need a good two weeks to refill. And alas, I have already used the last of mon odeur in a recent run-in with some delinquents. Luckily, I happen to have this." He whips out a familiar item from his bag: the Zhuge Liang crossbow.

Ralph turns to Wile, stammering, "Wait, that bow… That's my… I mean yours… I mean… I bought it for you!"

"True, but right now, he needs it more than I do," Wile replies matter-of-factly. "As I recall, that suit comes with its own arsenal, no? I trust you can get by."

Tongue-tied in his attempt at a retort, he lets out a huff. "You're right, I can do this. Unlike Monsieur Le Pew, I am a professional thief. I will not throw away my pride cus of some filthy skunk!"

With the discussion at a close, Ralph leaps to the rooftop and Le Pew zips into the vent. As they watch the two disappear, Sylvester asks Wile E. "So how long until we have to bail him out?"

"I'll give him an hour," Wile responds with amusement, "if we're feeling generous."


Left. Right. Straight. Left. Left. Right. Straight. Pepé travels through the vents with ease, stopping only to glimpse through the grates, eavesdropping on the activities of ACME's workers. "R&D is just ahead," Wile E.'s voice rings in his earpiece. "The ventilation system ends just short of the target location, so you'll have to find another way in."

The skunk, peering down from overhead, spots a cat scientist exiting from a steel door. He presses against the earpiece, whispering, "Have you shut down the cameras?"

"Just a second." A beeping sound. "Done."

"Good. I'm going in."

The grate unscrewed, it falls to the floor with a loud clack. The cat, their curiosity piqued by the noise, turns back to inspect it. Little do they know, however, is that they're not alone…

A sudden prick to the neck catches their attention. They try to reach for its source, but lose their sensation and fall to the floor instead. Their vision blurs and grows dim as a stark black and white figure appears before them, stooping down to their level. Then they black out.

Pepé drags the dart-drugged cat into a nearby supply closet, where he proceeds to undress them. Before he puts on the lab coat, however, he looks back at his striped tail. This could pose a problem. Looking up, he finds—coincidentally enough—a can of black paint. He briefly questions whether he should slather himself with the stuff, but concludes that he lacks time or patience to deal with the mess.

Approaching the steel door, he encounters an oversight on his part. "This door uses an iris scanner," he whispers into the earpiece. "I can't get in."

"I'll see what I can do," Wile E.'s voice replies.

A moment later, there's a burst of static, and a different, but familiar voice speaks into Pepé's earpiece. "Try it anyway. What's the worst that could happen?"

Pepé raises a brow in confusion. What could that cat be thinking? Still, when he stands before this door, a strange feeling lingers from the back of his mind. A hazy feeling which he can only describe as akin to déjà vu. He takes a deep breath and puts his face close to the scanner camera.

Beep!

"Access granted," an automated voice speaks as the steel door splits and opens.

Pepé's eyes widen at the sight of the room revealed. A vast, poorly lit space covered wall to wall with life-sized glass cases full of that alien substance. Upon closer inspection, he finds faucets at the base of the cases, as well as cupboards marked with warnings of chemical risks and safety prevention measures. He opens one of the cupboards, finding empty glass containers of various sizes, paired with caps to seal their contents. Smirking, he grabs one of the containers. Too easy!

As he approaches one of the Illudium cases, a muffled deluge of voices flood his brain. From the auditory haze, he can piece out words like 'love', 'Illudium', and 'heartless', though he cannot figure out their meaning. Am I going mad? He ponders the question as the familiarity of the situation sharpens and grows. I have been here before. I know this place by heart. But why can't I remember…?

Container filled to the brim, he seals it and plugs the faucet. As he picks himself up, what he sees causes him to nearly drop his cargo. Reflected in the glass is a figure: grey fur, long ears, and red eyes.

His heart stuck in his throat, his quivering hand reaches for the crossbow in his bag. Under most circumstances, he refuses to engage in direct violence. This situation, however, is far from normal. Weapon secured and safety unlocked, he pulls it out. At this distance between where he stands and the entrance, the piercing ability of the arrow is dubious, but if it can afford a sufficient distraction, there's no reason not to try. With a gulp, he swings around and fires.


Outside, Wile E. and Sylvester sit in awkward silence, emphasized by the occasional clack of keyboard keys. After a moment, Wile asks, "You're hiding something, aren't you?"

The cat's ear twitches as he side-eyes the coyote. "That information is strictly on a need-to-know basis."

"I haven't looked into them personally, but I know this flash drive contains employee records. What did you find in them?"

A pause, then: "Have you ever wondered why we're doing this heist in the first place?"

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. All this time, he never thought about Pepé's motive for this. "I need to get that Illudium, no matter what it takes!" The skunk's voice echoes in his memories. Wile not once questioned it, but simply accepted it for his father's—no, his friend's sake.

Sylvester answers for him. "Thirteen years ago, my spouse and I were minding our business when Pepé stumbled into our lives. Mistook me for kin, most likely; skunks aren't known for having great vision. My old partner, TC, was the one who brought him in, calling him an 'honorary alley cat'." He chuckles. "Anyhow, Pepé and I knew each other for a long time, but when I asked him about where he came from, he said he didn't remember." Taking a brief glance at the flash drive, he resumes. "When I was looking through those records, I came across a profile for an employee who looked just like him. And the more I read, the more things started to click. So when the situation presented itself, I had to test something out."

"So Pepé Le Pew used to work for ACME…?"

"All the evidence points to 'yes'. What we don't know is how he lost his memory."

"And he's convinced that the Illudium will help him restore it."

Sylvester nods. "Though I can't help but get a bad feeling about it. Pepé, he's… When something catches his attention, he won't stop until he gets it. You can argue he's—"

"Obsessive," Wile E. finishes the sentence. Just like Dad, he wants to add.

"I was going to say 'passionate', but that works, too."

Their conversation is cut off by a burst of static coming from Sylvester's earpiece. "Found the office," he hears Ralph's voice through the white noise. "I'll grab the files and be out in a jiffy."

"Good." Sylvester looks in the direction of the docks, where, in the distance, a figure is patrolling, swinging their flashlight towards the alleyway. "Cus we're running short on time."


The earpiece cuts off, and Ralph, having nothing else to say, gets right to work. As he scours the files, he cannot help but wonder how he managed to slip through so easily. The Executive building, being the active brains of ACME Corp, contains not just confidential documents, but boardrooms and offices dedicated to the planning and management, and most importantly, the penthouse belonging to a certain business-rabbit. He also wonders how, in such a technologically advanced facility, are there still physical documentations. Penelope stealing the flash drive, him being able to access the office he needed to break into, it all seems too easy.

The more difficult—and tedious—part is sifting through the vast amounts of paperwork in search of his targets. The process is mildly alleviated with the help of dividers and named folders, but with decades of research, R&D logs, and so forth, he still struggles to find it under the time crunch he's in.

Sorted alphabetically, he spots the Coyote surname with ease, though he learns that there are, in fact, multiple Coyotes. He takes a quick inspection of the one labeled "Coyote, C." and tosses it out upon noting the recent date of hiring. The next couple of files are of little use as well, being time logs and reports for mere receptionists and factory workers. The last, labeled "Coyote, T.E.", proves most promising, being a dense envelope with yellowed papers. That's one down, one more to go.

A pause, then: Wait, whose records was I looking for?

Flipping more frantically, he tries to refocus on his actual mission, pulling what little hints he can from his and Sylvester's conversation. Something about Illudium research, an employee named… La something. That's right, La Moufette! Gleefully, he pulls out the envelope marked with the target's name. Stashing away the envelopes into the breast of his outfit, he stands up to leave when the cock of a gun rings out from behind him.

"Gig's up, Coyote," a woman's voice says sternly. "If you know what's good for you, you'll hand over those documents."

Ralph turns his head slightly, his peripheral vision catching sight of the figure. Standing between him and freedom is a cream-furred rabbit, dressed in a pink suit and wielding a pistol. Realizing he's caught in a bind, he has to think quickly if he's to get out of here alive.

Putting on his best smile, he replies with his best Wile E. impression, "Sorry for the intrusion, madam. I think there's a bit of a misunderstanding here. See, I tried to get ahold of HR to get ahold of Dad's documents—legal inheritance stuff, real mess to deal with—but couldn't get ahold of anyone. So I had to do this the hard way. I'll return the documents to you as soon as I'm finished—"

A loud burst cuts him off, as a bullet flies past his cheek. "Don't try to trick me, mongrel! Bugs told me you would be after the Illudium research, and as his assistant, it's my duty to stop anyone who interferes with ACME business."

His red eyes displaying a glimmer of menace, he drops the act. "Ah, a professional, I see. That I appreciate. Unfortunately, my duty tonight involves taking these documents, so I hope you'll understand." In one swift motion, he unpockets a kunai and throws it towards the rabbit's weapon, knocking it off her hand.

Furious, she rushes towards him and nearly hits him with a fast and forceful punch. He finds out the hard way, as he parries and dodges her strikes, that she is an extremely competent melee combatant. If not for his agility and the occasional interference of office furniture, he surely would be knocked out by now, if not worse. Thankfully, she lacks one thing which his old buddy Sam always had: the element of surprise.

He hops over a low kick and throws down a smoke bomb. While she's confused, he swerves his body behind her, one last trick up his sleeve. One hand in his pocket, he unsheathes a retractable blade, which in a click extends into the size of a standard katana, and makes his move. In a swift, instinctive motion, the blade takes a stab in the dark.

As the smoke clears, he sees that the blade had stabbed her across the chest, going far deeper than he expected. With a gasp, her body turns limp and collapses to the floor. Sheathing the sword, he takes one last look and turns away. I've made quite the mess here, he thinks to himself as he makes his escape.


The guard's flashlight shines on the cat and coyote, blinding them. "Say, what're y'all doin' out here?" the guard asks, a heavy southern accent showing through. "ACME Corp docks are locked out to city residents at this time." He pauses, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, I get it! You're carpooling for someone, arentcha?"

Shaking off the shock, Sylvester regains his composure. "We are, actually. An old pal of mine is set to come into port, though uh, it seems we got the time a bit off." He lets out a weak chuckle, embarrassed by his pitiful attempt at a lie. Taking a better look at the guard, he notices that he is a surprisingly large rooster.

"I didn't hear word about any ships coming in tonight. Then again, we get a lot of 'surprise deliveries' every now and then. Though that's gone down same time as Don Henery. You're not part of Don's gang, are ya?"

"Of course not! Bird gangs aren't all that fond of cats. Take it from me, they'd keep away from any place where cats commonly lurk."

The rooster guffaws. "Ain't that the truth, son! I say, well, I say, you do look a bit familiar, but I can't figure out why…" He snaps his feathered fingers. "Oh, you're Sylvester from The Sylvester and Tweety Show. I used to love that show! But I gotta say, that last episode caught me way off-guard! Heh, get it? Cus I'm a security guard and all?"

As Sylvester continues his distraction, Wile E. resumes his work, tracking the red dots indicating his partners in crime. Ralph's dot in particular seems to be moving rapidly, if a bit erratically. Did something happen in the Executive building? He turns his attention over to Pepé's dot, which hasn't moved in the past minute or two. He presses a button on the side of the earpiece to change the frequency channel, then speaks into it. "Pepé, what's going on? Give me your status."


The static-laced voice coming from the earpiece snaps Pepé back into reality. Lowering the gun, he takes a breath to calm himself. "It's a bit difficult to explain, but… I'll be fine. I have the Illudium sample, and…" He looks over at the slumped over figure on the floor.

The grey-furred, long-eared creature, as he finds out, is not a rabbit at all, but rather a red-nosed coyote in a lab coat. Upon closer inspection, the stranger looks quite young—Possibly a new hire?, he ponders. "I'll be out ASAP." Taking pity on the young canid, Pepé drags the body over and sets him against the wall in a more comfortable position, removing the arrow to tend to his wound.

Right as he finishes, the room turns red, and alarms start blaring. "Wile, I thought you cut off the security alarms!" he whispers into the earpiece.

"I did, but someone must have reactivated them."

"Merde," he mutters under his breath. "I'll have to find another way out."

Running out of the Illudium supply room, he finds himself in a perilous situation. Out in the open with employees and guards on high alert, he will have to confront them sooner or later. The hall he originally went past is no longer safe, and the odds of finding another supply closet or grate without getting caught is slim. Putting on a gas mask, he proceeds onward.

"You're an odd case, Mr. Le Pew," a memory of a voice rings through his head. "It appears that, for some reason, your scent glands are…"

Clogging up one hall is a trio of guards, with more catching up from behind. One shouts to the others, "Keep your guard up, and don't let him spray you."

He skids to a stop, realizing the opportunity he's been given. He lets out a hiss, raising his tail straight up. "Let me go, or else!" Unfortunately, his threat seems to make them even more assertive, pointing their guns at him. Left with no other choice, he whips out a pink bomb and throws it down as forcefully as possible. The bomb releases a massive cloud of sulphurous gas, causing the unprepared victims to cough and shout, "Pe-eww!"

"What is the problem, doctor?" His past self's voice asks.

To which the other voice answers, "Well, your scent glands are, for lack of a better word, corrupted. In short, you can't spray at all."

That diagnosis from thirteen years ago still haunts him. A skunk's spray is their main line of defense—without it, he's easy prey. However, he is not without hope.

He rushes down the emergency stairs and into the basement floor, another supply space filled with easy places to hide. Safe from danger, he inspects the Illudium sample again.

Illudium, the ultimate reagent. A substance so malleable and potent that it is rumored to achieve that which alchemists of the past could not. Yes, with this, he can find a cure for his ailment. With this, he can find the key to…

He puts the sample away and continues his search for an exit. Thankfully, a small window is left open, letting in a soft breeze smelling of saltwater. After some searching and quick thinking, he comes across a rickety shelf just a few inches aside.

With elegant ease, he climbs the shelf, and then leaps and slips through the opening.


KRSSHZZT!

The shuriken pierces the security camera's shell, sharp blades cutting into its internal wiring as sparks fly from it. Once confirmed defunct, Ralph rushes down the hall, careful not to attract any more attention than necessary. Red lights glow and dim to the droning rhythm of the alarms, illuminating the darkened space. A guard blocks his path. In one strike, the walls and floor are painted in a layer of deep red. Red… red… So much red.

After running through the red-lit halls, a different color paints his vision: a bright, bluish white, coming from a wide window. Without a second thought, he leaps towards the window.

A loud crash deafens his ears as he flies out from the third-highest floor of ACME's tallest building. Glass shards cut through his outfit as they fall like rain. For a brief moment, he feels confident, as his body floats lighter than air. Then, abruptly, gravity takes hold, and so, too, do his survival instincts.

As he falls, he scrambles to come up with something. Finding some rope and a kunai in his pockets, he quickly ties the kunai and swings it at the side of the skyscraper. The kunai, to his misfortune, cannot cut through the tough exterior, instead bouncing back full force and nearly stabbing him. He glances downward and spots a convenient, if less pleasant, option. Plugging his nose, he gives in to gravity and throws himself straight downward.

Ralph lands headfirst into an open dumpster, trash scattering in the air. Popping his head out, he wades through the garbage and climbs out, huffing in relief as the adrenaline inside him dissipates. Just ahead, Wile E. rushes over to catch him before he loses his footing. "You got out of there just in time," Wile comments. "Most of the guards have gathered inside the company buildings, so we're in the clear." Wrapping one of Ralph's arms around his shoulders, he starts carrying him back to the car. "You did good, Ralph."

"Wile, I…" Ralph's voice trails off, too weak and hoarse to speak further. I screwed up, he wants to say, I screwed up real badly. He opens his mouth again, but is interrupted.

"Don't blame yourself for what happened tonight. There were a ton of factors to this, including some outside of our control. Even Sylvester admits it's foolish to expect a perfect heist. We got what we needed, so let's walk with our heads high."

The wolf, reminded of his success, cracks a smile before succumbing to exhaustion.


As chaos ensues throughout ACME Corp, back in the Executive building, in the HR office up high, Lola's body lies bleeding. Burdened by pain and blood loss, all she can do is think.

Is this how it ends? Dying at the hand of a filthy dog? And for what? Nothing! I'm sorry, Bugs… I failed you…

She closes her eyes, and the world turns to black.

"…Lola. Wake up, Lola." A soft voice calls from the darkness.

Am I hearing things? Have I died and gone to Heaven? It's impossible! I…

Slowly, her eyes open. As her vision clears up, she immediately recognizes her surroundings: the penthouse in ACME's Executive building. She sits up on the king-sized bed, upon which a familiar figure sits beside her. "Bugs!" She looks down at her body. Bandages wrapped around her chest, stained red. It is then she realizes the lack of pain. "I'm alive? But how?"

Bugs' crimson eyes glimmer as he responds. "Lola, do you remember that promise we made that day?"

"That I would fight to protect you. That I would give my life for ACME. Now and forever."

"And what else?"

She digs through her memories of that time in the recent past. The oath she made. The syringe in his hand. That glowing green substance seeping into her veins.

Her eyes widen. "You mean that the Illudium… healed me?"

"Yes. You said you would protect me 'now and forever', so I injected you with Illudium to uphold that promise." He holds her chin up with one gloved hand, leaning close to her as he whispers, "Thanks to the Martians, you and I can rule Acme City—and soon, the world—for all eternity."


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Finally, the moment you've all been waiting for, the heist plot!

Not gonna lie, this chapter was the one which made me the most anxious, even more than the Penelope one. Action already isn't my strong suit as a genre, but heist stories are just... How do I heist story? The articles I was given on writing heist stories only offer basic stuff like "set up the team" and "every heist has something going wrong", but none of them really cover the stuff I had actual difficulty with, like simultaneous actions and, well, that whole thing with trying to describe nonexistent facilities. It's because of these difficulties that I kept descriptions of ACME Corp's layout rather vague and focused more on the psychological as opposed to the physical... if any of that made sense.

That said, despite being on the weak side writing-wise, the basic foundation has been set, so anything that comes after this point should be easier to plan and work around, theoretically speaking. And maybe by the time I get to writing the next big fight scene, I'll actually have an idea on how to write them decently.

Because I've dedicated parts of these ANs to worldbuilding/character trivia, I'll flesh out something that you might have caught onto by now. While not explicitly brought up by name in this chapter, those in the know would catch onto this being Calamity Coyote's first appearance. Between him and Furball, there is indeed some crossover with Tiny Toons here, but that's not the only series whose characters exist in this universe. The Warner Siblings own Acme Studios, the Hex Girls are an existing band along with Scooby Doo, the Loonatics stem from an alternate future, and previous chapters have dropped vague hints at the existence of a certain Hanna Barbera character. What elements or characters from other properties/titles "exist" may vary, however, as Duck Dodgers is just a TV show in W&C.

I want to write more, but I'm split between going straight to the next chapter and messing around with short stories. So while you enjoy this, I'm going to take a small break to warm up, gather notes, and doodle a bit. Maybe then I'll figure out my next plan of action. Until then, toodle-loo!