The following story is rated PG-13, although some might consider it to be rated R, for mature themes. All characters are owned by Warner Brothers…unfortunately.
The yellow sunlight blazed through the frilly window curtains as another day began for Tweety Bird. There was a ruffle of footsteps and suddenly light flooded in as the cloth cover was removed from the yellow canary's gilded birdcage.
"Oooohohoho! Good Morning, Tweety! Time to get up! Your friend will be here very soon!" chuckled Granny, looking in with her usual cheery smile.
"D'ood morning D'wanny," said Tweety, brightly – then blinking sleepily, "Ownwee I don't feewl so d'ood…"
"Oh dear! Well, maybe you'll feel better when you get up. I'm sure seeing him will cheer you up" the kindly old lady said with a knowing smile.
"Oh, all wight," Tweety said smiling back. The yellow and orange bird kicked back the covers and stood up, stretching and yawning.
Granny blinked and paused, and then she crossed to the window to draw down the shade.
"Oh Tweety – I know that being a bird you may find it more natural, but you know… it's not really a good idea to sleep like that," she whispered in admonishing tone.
"Sweep wike what?" the canary asked in puzzlement.
"Oh, never mind, dearie. Just please get dressed before your company arrives," Granny said before leaving the room.
Tweety was confused at this and stared after her. "Dwessed? She knows I don't wear cwothes…"
Something was amiss… Looking around the room, the strangeness deepened.
Where were the posters? Where were the books? The walls were a different color!
There were pink and green psychedelic Mod flowers and pillows on the chairs – and a loveseat?! Where did this all come from??
Seeking to obey Granny, Tweety pulled open the miniature set of drawers beside the bed –
"WHAT THE -?!?"
The drawers were filled with pink skirts and purple blouses! The surprised bird held up hand-fulls of panties and brassieres!
"AHHH! These awn't mine! What's going on here?! D'WANNY!!! - "
Startled from sleep, Tweety sat up in bed…
Looking around, the canary saw that it was still morning and the cover was off the cage.
"Phew! It was all just a dweam! - And not a vewy dood one!" the bird said with relief.
"Knock-knock!" said the happy voice of Sylvester, coming from behind the door.
"Tum in -Tum in, old fwend!" Tweety sang happily.
The clownish black and white pussycat bounced in the door, seeming unusually pleased. He wore a jacket and tie and held out a paw-full of dandelions and pansies, some of which still had dirty roots on them.
"These-th are for you!" he grinned.
"For mee? Oooooo! Tank you!", Tweety said, honestly surprised, then looked suspiciously at the flowers and at the cat he'd known all his life. "…Why are you giving me fwowers? Do dey gave a bumblebee in dem? Or dynamite?? Am I dying and nobody's told me??!"
Slyvester was taken aback . "Ah course-th not! Don't I always bring ya flowerth?" he said, spraying spittle everywhere.
"Gee Puddy-Tat - I didn't know ya cared!" simpered the little bird. "By the way - you didn't pull these outta D'wanny's d'arden again, did you?"
"Oh pshaw! Would I ever do thuch a thing?" , humphed the tomcat rolling his eyes falsely, "Besides-th!…You know how I care…"
This time it was Tweety's turn to be taken aback – especially by Slyvester batting his eyelashes with a romantic expression on his goofy face.
"Okay! What's the twick yer pwanning this time to det me with, you bad ol' Puddy Tat?" the canary asked slyly, dropping the bedclothes and standing up on the bed.
Sylvester's eyes popped! Then an odd expression formed on his face – he blushed…and smiled shyly at Tweety. Tweety was thoroughly bewildered!
"Why are you wooking at me wike dat??"
"Well really, sweetie – thith ith tho thudden…" simpered the cat.
"*What* are you talking about?! What are you twying to pull on me?! I'm not Sweetie! She's my student!!" demanded Tweety.
"I'm not talking about that loudmouth…I'm talking about you, thweetheart!" cooed the pussycat.
"……Me?" gasped the yellow canary in shock.
"Why sure!…Why do ya think I've been chasing you around all these yearth? What? Ya thought I really wanted ta eat ya?" Slyvester smiled, leaning in close.
"Have you been detting into dat Colwumbian catnip again?" Tweety asked nervously, backing up to the bars in the birdcage fearfully.
"Well, if anybody thould be thurprised – it thould be me" Sly said embarrassed.
"You're surpwised at me?! I'm not the one who's acting scwewy!" Tweety told him.
"Although it does make me kinda happy, but I'm kinda used to my girlfriend wearing clothes…" the tomcat smirked sideways.
Tweety froze in total shock, beak gaping wide and staring at Slyvester!
"……….Girl-fwend???? BUT – I'm not a Girl!!!!"
The feline shrugged and admitted, "Well, okay, so yer not quite so young anymore –"
"But I'm not a GIRL!!" the canary screamed, grabbing the cat by the lapels.
"Okay -so you're a woman, then –"
"I AM NOT A GIRL OR A WOMAN!!!" yelled Tweety, shaking him by the throat.
Slyvester gently but firmly removed Tweety's claws from his neck and put the bird down. He then crossed his arms and pointed haughtily to the full length mirror opposite him.
"…Yer anatomy begs-th to differ."
Tweety slowly turned with terrified eyes… to look at the reflection in the mirror.
…Her eyelashes were long – her beak was ruddy and shaped like a cupid's bow
–her hairs were longer and more numerous, her legs were shapely, her hips were full and curvy and her breast was –
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHG!!!!! I'M A GIRL!!!!" shrieked Tweety!
"Well I should hope tho! I wouldn't be engaged to a fella, now would I?"
"ENGAGED!?!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGG!!!" screamed screamed Tweety, trying to cover her nakedness with her tiny hands.
She backed up against the mirror away from Sylvester in panic! Her tail bumped into its cold smooth surface and she spun wildly, to look at point-blank range at the reflection of her own exposed body!
She saw the fear and shock in her own wide eyes! She saw a tiny diamond ring on
her finger! Her high-pitched scream shattered the glass into a broken mass of
hundreds of small images – all of her own bare, nude female body!
"Calm down. little birdie! Everything's going to be all right," said Hello Nurse.
Tweety stopped screaming and opened his eyes in wonder. He was in the Waiting Room outside the Warner Brothers Studio's Head Office. The statuesque blonde nurse was bending over him as he lay on the couch.
"There-there, you just had a bad dream, that's all. You're all right now" she told him gently.
"I am?" wondered Tweety, then he checked himself all over. "I AM! I'M AWL-WIGHT!!" he exclaimed with relief and joy, finding his body was still male. "Oh.. Dat nightmare was a woo-woo!" he sighed. "What a weweief!"
"You should compose yourself, Mister Tweety," the nurse continued, "You have a big important meeting with Mister Plotz right now. In fact, you're late."
"Oh! Den I bettah get my wiwwdle self wight in dere!" the happy canary smiled as he jumped off the couch and walked quickly down the hallway towards the massive double doors.
The empty hallway seemed longed and more cavernous than it had before.
As Tweety's tiny orange birdy-feet hurried along, the echoes of his footsteps and the ominous staring eyes of the movie stars' pictures on the walls began to make him uneasy. Arriving at the dark doors that dwarfed him, the tiny bird tentatively knocked… and the door slowly opened – with a low electrical hum.
"Uh...Hewwo?" called the canary, feeling very small indeed.
"Come in Tweety!" called Thaddeus Plotz, sitting far away at the end of the office behind an imposing desk.
"Hi Mistah Pwotz…you wanted to tee me?"
"Yes!" chortled the short, balding human toon, "Come closer! Up here on my desk!"
Tweety flapped his tiny wings and soon alighted atop the mammoth desk and found a miniature Hawaiian deck lounging-chair, with a matching beach umbrella and a table with birdseed daiquiris - all for him. As Mr. Plotz flipped on a sun lamp and turned on the song "Aloha Ohee", Tweety relaxed back on the lounger, put on a pair of sunglasses and sipped his drink.
"Ahh! Star tweet-ment!" he sighed with a grin.
"Nothing but the best for our biggest star!" Plotz said grinning too.
Tweety giggled shyly and said, "Aww! I'm so unimpawtent!"
"Ah, that's where you're wrong!" beamed Plotz patronizingly, "In fact, according to our infallible marketing staff – you've sold more merchandise in the past few years than any other of our characters! You've outsold Bugs Bunny! You've even outsold the Tasmanian Devil! You're our Most valuable commodity!"
"Who? Me? Aww shucks, Mistah Pwotz!" blushed the bird.
"And - being our most valuable player – you have a big job to do! We've decided on a whole new publicity campaign for you! It's going to be one of our biggest projects – and it'll be a big responsibility for you! …Do you think you're up to it? We're counting on you!"
"Yes sir, Mistah Pwotz! I'll do it!" Tweety agreed.
"Excellent! Excellent! I just knew a true professional wouldn't let us down."
He raised his highball glass full of cheap bourbon in a toast. "To your biggest successful venture ever!"
"To me!" Tweety beamed, drinking his daiquiri.
The boss smiled slowly … and said cheerfully, "Well, now that you're committed to
the project - let's talk about what you're going to do. Our statistics show that your
merchandise - all those T-shirts, blouses, underwear, socks, handbags, et cetera – they sell to predominantly young girls between the ages of four to eight, and to
women from twenty to thirty. You've got "equity" with them! It's great to see the buzz building around our favorite "Natural Blonde" - and we already are beginning
to see the halo effect for the broader market!"
"What does dat mean?" asked Tweety innocently.
"Well, that means that girls identify with you. They think you exemplify "Cuteness"!
"Well, I guess that's twue…"
"And to ensure that you continue to do so – we're going to make even a bigger splash!" exclaimed the boss.
"Huh? …What do you mean??"
"Well… to ensure that they always identify with you – you're going to identify with them! After a little re-designing, your image will be selling on everything! Tweety designer clothes, Tweety shoes, Tweety credit card holders, Tweety cell phones, Tweety hats, Tweety sandals, Tweety cereal, Tweety macaroni and cheese – TWEETY EVERYTHING! We'll make BILLIONS!" the boss shouted with joy and his eyes filled with dollar signs.
"Wee-designing? Wait a minute! What do you mean wee-designing?! You mean… wee-designing ME??! " gasped the canary!
"Oh yes, but don't you worry about it", Plotz grinned, his eyes squinting, "You be fine! We'll give you longer eyelashes, a floral thingee for your longer hair, re-color your beak; give you shapely legs, a few more curves. – You know? A little more here, a little less there, heheheh…"
"You mean you'w donna make me into A GIRL?!!" the tiny bird cringed!
Plotz's eyes shifted but he kept smiling. "…Uh, yes – but don't worry about it! Besides - you'll be making so much money, you won't have time to worry!"
"But you can't do dat !! I'm a boy! I don't wanna be a girl!"
"And that's something else you won't have to worry about!" the boss reassured him, "Cause I've got someone here to help you to change your mind about that. Doctor?"
A high-backed swivel chair to the side of the desk revolved around, revealing the peculiar figure of Doctor Scratchnsniff, the studio psychologist.
"Now don't vorry, mein liddle yellow friend", smiled the heavily bespectacled doctor, "Avter a few therapy zessions undt hormone zhots-"
"Shots?!?" screamed Tweety.
"Yah, dat'z vat I said… didn't I?" Scratchnsniff asked stupidly.
"Hold on a second, bub!" demanded Tweety, "You've dot Sweetie Bird and
Ahhoogah – and a whole wot of other cute wady toonettes alweady! Why change
me into a new one? Why not pwomote dem instead??"
"Because they don't have the financial clout like you do!" Plotz whispered,"Nobody remembers them – they're just ancillary characters – But You! You are
in the public consciousness as the epitome of "cute and sassy"! The World Loves Tweety! – Our "Natural Blonde!" You know how they say, "Blondes have more fun"? Now they'll be saying "Tweeties have more fun!!"
"Not Dis Tweety! You'w not changing me into a girl!" the bird said, growing angry.
"Now-now! It's not like the Head office hasn't changed you before", the sneaky
boss told him, "Remember how you started your career as "Orson", the pink, droopy-
eyed little birdie? We made you better!"
"My cweator, Bob Cwampett did dat cuz de Head Office said I wooked wike I was a naked widdle baby", Tweety explained sadly, "He made me dah star dat I am today…"
"Well we're going to make you into an even Bigger Star by re-designing you for the modern world!" Plotz grinned, opening his arms wide.
"Bob wuvved me…"Tweety sniffled, "He was wike my father – and onwlee HE has the wight to change me! – Not You!!"
Plotz sat back in his chair and his smile changed to an evil grin.
"Oh, we have the right… we own you! We've got a lifetime contract!"
"Don't vorry liddle Tveety – de re-designing vill be easy – undt painless!" added the bigheaded doctor, "It'z chust a liddle S.R.S. – Dat's "zexual reassignment surgery" to you laymen."
"I don't need S.R.S. – I need S.O.S.!!" said Tweety flying up into the air. "Your twouble, Mistah Pwotz, is dat you are a corporwate Bean-counter! You got no heart! - And you watch too much tewevision. Here! Dis'll make you "identify" more with "dah modern world!" smiled Tweety as he smashed Plotz's big-screen television onto the boss's head!
"You want feminization, Doctah? Well here! – Have some!!" Tweety said spinning Scratchnsniff onto the floor behind the desk where Plotz was now struggling to get the TV off his head. With a whirl of flying clothes, screams and make-up, the Doctor stood up wearing the polyester dress, wig and lipstick of an old lady!
"ACH DU LIEBER!" Scratchnsniff screamed in a high falsetto voice as he ran around in panic.
"Arrgagaaggg!" grunted Plotz as he tried to pull off the heavy TV that was stuck on his head.
"You're not verwy weceptive, Mistah Pwotz!" Tweety laughed, extending the television's "rabbit-ears" antennas. "Wet me hewp you."
"I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS! YOU"LL NEVER WORK HERE AGAIN!" cursed the struggling boss.
"You can just bet I won't!" the canary swore as the television on Plotz's head began to snap and sizzle with broken electrical wires.
"Oh No!" chirped Tweety, "De bad ol' boss is on fire!"
The tiny yellow bird donned a fireman's hat and ran over to the evil man with a fire hose, singing: "Dinga-linga-linga-linga-ling! Hewp! Hewp! De boss is on fire!"
Looking at the TV screen, he said: "In Tase of fire – Bweak Gwass. Awight!"
SMASH went the television screen in Plotz's face as Tweety jammed the nozzle of his fire-hose into it! Plotz's revealed face begged "No-no!" within the broken TV set – but Tweety turned on the nozzle of a nearby gasoline can attached to the fire hose.
"Awww", said Tweety, innocently, "Duh poor boss went all to pieces! He Bwow up! Go "BOOM!!!"
Thaddeus Plotz was blown up in the air, and the Doctor in drag watched dumbfounded as he flew up and hit the ceiling with a slam! The flattened boss peeled off the ceiling over Scratchnsniff, and with a fatalistic look, the Doctor put up a tiny paper umbrella to shield himself – just before the pudgy man fell on top of him!
"D'ood-bye, Mistah Pwotz! And don't tink it hasn't been a widdle swice of heaven– cause it hasn't", remarked Tweety, "Now I better get my widdle self out of dis Woony-bin!"
"GET HIM!" shouted the blackened boss into the office's intercom system.
The double doors flew open and in came Ralph the guard and Hello Nurse after Tweety with butterfly nets! He swooped between them as they both swung their nets – and succeeded in catching each other instead of their quarry.
Tweety flapped his way past them and made it to the elevator doors. He pressed the "down" button and was scared, as he had to wait until the elevator arrived. Ralph ran headlong down the hall after him, brandishing his net!
"GET HIM! HE'S WORTH MORE THAN WE ARE!!" shouted Plotz as he and the other human toons ran to grab Tweety!
The tiny bird was trapped as the villains ran right at him! But suddenly the
elevator door opened with a "ding!" and Tweety escaped inside, just as the door
slammed shut! The guard's face made a perfect impression in the dented-in door.
"Phew!" gasped Tweety, "Dat was too cwose!"
"What's all the hubbub…bub?" asked a familiar, slobbery voice behind him.
As the elevator went down, the canary spun around to find Sylvester staring at him.
"Uhhhhh!!" Tweety gasped again, remembering their last peculiar encounter,
"Ummmm…how do I wook to you, Puddy??" he asked nervously sweating.
The cat leaned in close, his eyes narrowing. "Just like ya always do, bird…like a perfect lil snack!"
Tweety shouted with relief, "Oh Tylvestah! You'w back to normal again! I wuv you!" he said grabbing the pussycat's head and giving him a big sloppy kiss!
"Hey! Cut that out, bird! I don't go that way!" Sly protested, pushing him off.
"Sowwy, puddy. I d'uess dat was part of dah bad dweam I had-"
Abruptly they both heard the sounds of running feet and shouting on a nearby stairwell!
"Well thatth doesn't thound like a bad dream," said the cat in alarm.
"It's worse Puddy! – it's a nightmare! They'w after me! You gotta hewp me!" Tweety implored, "Dey wanna wee-design me into a girl!!"
"You mean they're gonna re-draw you as – A girl?!? Thathh justh inthufferable!"
"That'th Deth-spicable!!" they both said in unison.
"Yes, and dis time, it weewee is!" commented Tweety. "T'quick! You dotta hide me! Don't wet them get me! PWEASE, Puddy Tat??!"
Sylvester opened his mouth and pointed into it. "Here! Hide in here! They'll never find ya – it's the last place they'd expect ya to hide!"
Tweety backed away in fear but at the same moment he heard the elevator reaching the bottom floor – and footsteps racing up to meet it!
"Puddy… you wouldn't weewee eat me – would you??"
"What?! You cut me to the quick, Tweety!" humphed Sylvester indignantly, "We've worked together for almost thixty yearth! I'd have thought you'd trust me by
"Oh ah'm sowwy" the bird apologized, "Just. pwease don't hurt me. I weewee need your hewp!"
"Don't ya trust me? I'm hurt," the tomcat said crossing his arms.
"Oh all wight, I'm sowwy", the canary gulped anxiously, "Just pwease make sure I have some air!"
"No problem!" said Sylvester, gulping a lot of air," Remember who taught the Great Wakkoratti?"
Tweety alighted nervously in the cat's palm. Shaking, he quickly said his prayers, and tied on his own blindfold. Standing to attention, he saluted and said ". It's tum to dis…wew.. I'm weddy. Swawwow me, Puddy Tat!"
Sylvester put him gently up to his mouth.
"Don't worry, kiddo. I'll let ya out when the heat's off."
"D'oodbye cwuel world!" said Tweety with passion as he climbed into the cat's mouth.
Sylvester closed his mouth and started to swallow him.
"Hey! Not so hard! - Ya cwazy!" Tweety told him.
"Shh! Here they come!" the cat said as he gulped Tweety down into his cavernous stomach and grinned to himself sneakily.
He gave a double thumbs-up sign to himself and mouthed: "Yes!"
The elevator door opened and in walked Mr. Plotz (still with the television stuck on his head) and Dr. Scratchnsniff. (who was wiping off his lipstick) They both looked suspiciously at Sylvester…
The cat was dressed as an American Indian in buckskins, war paint and a huge feather war bonnet. He pointed to an open door panel in the elevator's ceiling.
"Him go that a-way!" the cat told them in a deep voice.
"Thanks Chief!" said Plotz, "Get up there after him, Doctor!"
"Dere'z really no need to chase him, Meester Plotz", Scratchnsniff told him,"Vith der female hormone zhots he'z already received in hiz sleep, plus der dose in dat drink you gave him – der process haz already scharted!"
Plotz stopped trying to boost the gawky doctor up and exclaimed "You mean it's already too late? Perfect! Then all we have to do is wait!" he grinned, clapping his hands.
Both Sylvester and Tweety gasped – and held their breath!
"Yah! Now he vill come to us and ask to be der fraulein, because hiz mind is already being changed eento von!" smiled the Doctor through his thick glasses. He adjusted his red wig in the mirrored panel on the wall and said, "He must be hafing dose nightmares due to his male hormones being counteracted by der female hormones. Ven estrogen collides vith estosterone – der'z bound to be firevorks!"
Plotz pushed the "Open Door" button and gloated, "As long as he has to come crawling back to us!"
"Oh he vill, Boss! He vill!" Scratchnsniff laughed as the two walked out calmly.
"No Scratchnsniff!" snapped Mr. Plotz. The ugly little man smirked slyly and said:
Inside Sylvester's tummy, Tweety went wild, making the cat's belly twitch and wiggle with the impressions of a flying mad bird inside him. As the villains were still within sight, Sly tried to hold it in but Tweety flew out with the cat's dentures!
"AGH! Dey did it to me alweady!! It's too wate!" Tweety cried!
"Wait!" yelled Plotz turning to see them, "There he is! With Sylvester!! GET THEM!!!"
The cat and the canary flew madly down the hall and down the stairwell!
The villains ran shouting after them! Spinning down the corkscrewing staircases, they both grew dizzy! They would both be caught! They turned a corner and ran right into Injun Joe – The Super Chief!
The giant Native American growled angrily at Sylvester "You dressed like stereotypical movie Indian!"
"Well, that makes two of us!" the cat said pointing at his loincloth and mocasins.
"That not politically correct! Me scalp-em you!" roared Injun Joe as he set out in pursuit of them!
Sylvester saw a door marked "DO NOT ENTER! KEEP OUT!!…THIS MEANS YOU, FATHEAD!!" and he ran and opened it, beckoning Tweety inside! They slammed the door behind them and breathed hard from their close call.
They'd got away…
Or so they thought. The room they found themselves in was a strange dark medical laboratory. It was cold and creepy. The two shivered with fear as pairs of slanted yellow eyes opened one by one to stare eerily back at them! Tweety shook as the nearest pair of eyes moved – and a figure moved out toward them from the darkness into the dim light! The others followed suit and Sylvester and Tweety were horrified by what they saw!
Standing staring at them with insanity in his eyes, was the angular figure of Ace Bunny!
"HEEEEEEEEY! It's the OLD SCHOOL BOID! He come TO VIZZZZIT!!" Ace exploded, wildly gesticulating with his sharp paws.
An angular pink female bunny looked at Ace and hung her head sullenly and sighed, "…You are such a newb! Tweets ain't old school – Shi's been upgraded, I hear!"
"Schweet! Shi's just like Us now!" agreed a black angular duck.
The Loonatics began to chant as their frightening dark figures surrounded Tweety and Sylvester: "One of us! One of us! Gooble Gabble! One of us! One of us!! Gooble Gabble!! One Of Us! One Of Us!! GOOBLE GABBLE! ONE OF US!! ONE OF US!! ONE OF US!!! ONE OF US!!!"
As the chanting Loonatics closed in on them in a tightening circle, Tweety and Sylvester cringed and cowered together in terror! The Loonatics grew closer and closer!!
"IT'S GOTTA BE A DWEAM!!" screamed Tweety, " IT'S GOTTA BE A DWEAM!
WAKE ME UP! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!! OH PWEASE WAKE ME UP!
SOMEBODY HELP MEEEEEEE!!! HEWP US!!!"
*As the tiny innocent bird and cat beg for help, the camera pulls away from the scene until they are all simply a blurred writhing mass. The camera pans sideways slightly as a trench-coated, business-suited figure stands there. It is Babs Bunny.
"Submitted for your approval –toons - on the verge of disaster," says Babs casually as she holds a smoldering carrot in her fingers, "…A toon who thought he had it all. Wealth, fame and love… only to succumb to the evils of corporate management… Management run by heartless people who can only see a dollar sign instead of a soul – Power instead of Kindness … and Cash instead of Love... Another bright star who's light was not rewarded for loyalty … but was dimmed by the Darkness…to be filed under M for Money ... or E for Evil in –… The Acme Acres Zone."
*As Babs dispassionately crushes out her smoking carrot… the camera pans up to the stars…we still hear the cries for help going unanswered…
*The camera pans backwards to the doorway that now stands open – a different business-suited figure stands there – it is Buster Bunny. He looks directly into the camera lens and speaks in a deadpan voice."…Ya still think it's funny? … Think about it."
*The camera pans up into the cold dark night and the stars. The title says "THE END"…then the words twist and change … Into a very big question mark.
Warner Brothers is seriously talking about doing this to Tweety, in a manner of speaking. Read the following articles…and think about it. Thank you for reading this work of non-cannon fiction.
All In My opinion – Pepe K.
Comments? Opinions? Write to me.
Flames about it really happening to Tweety? Send them to WB.