Chapter 11: Furrykins and Gore

Chapter 11: Furrykins and Gore

Cruella was almost beside herself. How could she bear to throw her beloved and most expensive fur into the briny moat? As the group walked back through Fantasyland and neared the Castle, Cruella's hand went up to her throat and stroked the raccoon fur. The wicked woman actually felt tears come to her eyes. No, she could not part with Furrykins (as she had no creatively named it). There had to be another way to get information out of the ridiculous Roger Rabbit. Cruella imagined that torturing him would do nicely, but what if the rabbit fainted? Then he would be of no use at all. As they neared the moat, Cruella began to hyperventilate at the awful thought of throwing her beloved fur into it.

"Eugenia, dahling!" she gasped, "I cannot do this!"

"It was your idea, Cruella," Eugenia hissed.

"I know, but... but I've changed my mind!"

"It's too late for that!"

"I can't just toss this gorgeous fur into that dratted moat!"

"Well, if you won't do it, then what can we do?"

Cruella sighed, for she had no idea. Was there another way to gain Roger's trust? She supposed that giving him a big carrot would appease him, but for how long? Cruella sighed and stroked the fur despairingly. Eugenia imagined herself stroking Barbossa's beard in all its scraggly wonder, but her thoughts were soon interrupted by a frustrated snarl from the Queen.

"Well, are you going to throw it in or not?"

"I... I..." Cruella attempted.

"You said you had to as part of of the F.A.," Roger said, raising an eyebrow, "Or was that a lie?"

All three women gulped. Had they been found out? Cruella stared at Roger, who looked back stonily... or as stonily as a cartoon rabbit can. Several silent moments passed. In those moments, Cruella had an inner struggle, Eugenia dreamed of a romantic night with Barbossa, and Roger wished he had stayed in his Toontown Hills home. But what of Queenie? Quite simply, the be-moled woman had had enough of this whole plotline. She snatched the raccoon fur from Cruella's neck and promptly went to the side of the bridge.

"Queeeeeeeeenniiiiiieeeeee!" Cruella screeched.

But Queenie was a woman driven by her own desires. She gave Cruella one short, fierce look. Then she threw the fur into the moat. Although Cruella screamed with rage, the fur floated for a second then sunk out of sight. The three women and the rabbit stood there and looked at the place where the fur had fallen. All four knew that it could never be recovered, for things that fell into the moat were never seen again.

"Well, that's that," Eugenia said after a moment.

Cruella turned and slapped Eugenia sharply across the face in her rage. Then she turned and ran down Main Street. Eugenia gave a whimper of pain once she had gotten over the initial shock and Queenie gave a dark, satisfied chuckle. Roger stared at them both for a second, then turned and started to run for the safety of Coke Corner. Queenie, however, reached out and grabbed his ears again before he could get away. He gave a little shriek of pain.

"Where's the White Rabbit?" she barked.

"I... uh..." Roger stammered.

Eugenia stepped forward and gave Roger an evil look.

"Well, I dare say we shall find out soon enough," she said, "I have a lovely torture chamber with all the furnishings set up for you."

"No!" Roger shrieked, "All right! I'll tell you! He's in the Dream Suite!"

Queenie and Eugenias' eyes widened. So the White Rabbit was living it up without them, eh? Well, he would soon pay... with his fur.

DUN DUN DUN!!!!
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Meanwhile, back in the Haunted Mansion, the Hatter was completely and utterly terrified. If he had been scared before, now he could barely even stand up for fear. The darkness surrounded him, almost suffocating him. He couldn't even scream. He simply stood in the dark hall, trembling uncontrollably, his heart racing.

"Monsieur?" came Lumiere's voice, "Are you there?"

"Y-yes," Hatter managed, "I'm h-here."

Lumiere relit his candles and Hatter breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to get out of the Mansion. He hurried forward to take Lumiere from his ectoplasm prison. Hatter gasped when he entered the area; it was terribly cold. He got ahold of Lumiere and carried him back down the hall... what he could see of it, anyway.

"We're g-getting out of h-here," Hatter stammered, "I can't t-take this anymore."

"Hurry, Monsieur!" Lumiere said.

Hatter did just that, but was stopped when the pair of doors leading to the exit suddenly slammed shut. Hatter gasped with terror. A loud, mwah-ha-ha-ish laugh filled the deathly still air. It sent shivers down Hatter's spine.

"Leaving so soon?" came the voice that belonged to the laugh, "But we were just getting ready to welcome you!"

"W-welcome me?" Hatter asked, looking around.

"Yes. We have 999 happy haunts here, but there's room for 1000. How good of you to volunteer!"

"But I didn't-" Hatter shrieked, but he stopped when someone materialized before him.

"Mon dieu," Lumiere murmured.

Before them stood the transparent body of a ghost with a terribly tragic past. Hatter could barely breathe.

"Welcome, foolish Hatter, to the Haunted Mansion," the ghost said.

"Wh-who are you?" Hatter asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"I am Captain Gore," said the owner of that name.

Hatter had never even entered the Mansion before, let alone read about its tragic history. But he had heard stories from the other Disney characters about the mysterious and horrible Captain Gore: that Gore ate kittens, that he was a pirate, that he was the victim of a horrid head transplant gone wrong, that he had murdered his wife. Hatter had once wondered which parts of the stories were true, but now, as he looked into the transparent face of his Ghost Host, he didn't really care. All poor, petrified Hatter knew was that he was just that- petrified at the prospect of being the 1000th resident on the Mansion.

"Your cadaverous palor betrays signs of foreboding, almost as though you detect a disquieting metamorphosis," Gore said, reciting a line from his spiel that he had to say over and over again every day.

Hatter only nodded. He couldn't do anything else at that moment. Which was a shame, for little did he know that Captain Gore was afraid of one thing, and that was something Hatter posessed in his coat pocket...

- Wisher