A/N:
Thanks to all who keep reading and encouraging this story that just
keeps growing longer. Physics makes only the briefest of appearances.
Hope most of you watched cartoons when you were a kid, but for those
who didn’t there’s a note at the end that may help with
the cartoon references in this one. In Part 13 I played with the
point of view a bit (from Mac to the Admiral). I change it again in
this one. Don’t think anyone’s gonna have a hard time
figuring it out, LOL! All usual disclaimers apply, don’t own
them, not getting anything out of this but good times for
all.
Special thanks to mary of the many numbers for making
this a better read than it would have been without her beta-ing it
for me. I throw many cyber bouquets to her! But any and all mistakes
are mine, ‘cause there were times I didn’t take her
advice.
Birthday Series Part 14
Last One In The Pool
Is...
JAG Ops
Wed., Oct. 29, 2003
0800 Local
“Admiral
on deck!” The familiar cry brings the commotion to a sudden
halt as the assembled crew snaps to attention, including Mac and
me.
“Awful crowded in here this morning,” the
Admiral comments. “Any idea why that would be, Commander?”
Oh,
it’s gonna start like this? In front of everyone? This is gonna
be worse than I feared. “No, sir, don’t have a
clue.”
“Hurumph,” he replies.
I
wonder if there is a secret seminar they give when you get your first
star. I figure ‘perfecting the glare’, ‘advanced
glowering’ and ‘hurumphing’ would be on the agenda.
At this rate, I’ll never find out.
“Commander,
Colonel, my office. The rest of you, as you were. No, belay that.”
I realize he heard enough of the reception our entrance caused to
quickly rethink that order. “The rest of you carry on with your
duties, and see that you carry yourselves to where those duties are
usually performed!”
Mac and I follow the Admiral toward
his office. She gives me an encouraging smile. I can hear her inside
my head, “don’t worry, this is the show he has to make,
it’s not gonna be that bad.” I can feel her inside my
heart, “trust in us.”
That’s all I need. He
can bust me to seaman and have me polishing brass for the next two
years, this woman is worth it. Hey, but he’d better let us
polish that brass together. I wonder, do Marines know how to polish
brass? That’s OK, Mac’s smart, I can teach her.
Oops,
I’m doing some nervous mental babbling here. Better get back in
the game.
Jenn gives us a look that somehow blends
‘congratulations, good luck in there’ and that uniquely
female sigh at love. I give her the barest nod of thanks back.
“Shut
the hatch Commander.”
As I’m closing the door I
see Harriet peeking around the corner giving me a thumbs up. It’s
great to have friends. If only they could help us now.
Mac and
I stand at attention in front of the Admiral’s desk as he
engages in glowering practice for what seems like forever. I must
remember to ask Mac how long it really lasted. The Admiral’s
glower seems to defy Einstein’s theory about time -- it
stretches it.
Finally he orders, “At ease. Take a
seat.”
I watch the Admiral watch Mac sit down. In fact,
he’s watching her sit down very intently. Oh my god! He’s
wondering if she’s sore! He’s wondering if we
‘fraternized’ so much she’s sore!
His gaze
shifts to me, eyebrows lifting an infinitesimal amount. Just enough
to let me know he knows I figured out what he was watching for.
Why
won’t the floor beneath this chair open up and swallow me? It’s
bad enough he caught us making out in the street. Not to mention
compounding that with our having to admit to him exactly when we
started ‘fraternizing’. But now he’s trying to
figure out how often we did? And if I treated her gently or
manhandled her? (Hey, how does he know she doesn’t like it a
little rough?)
Twenty-two years of military training is the
only thing keeping my face impassive. I will not let this man make me
blush. I’m 40 years old, Mac is my fiancée
and we get to have sex whenever and however we want.
Jeez, I
just had to think that, didn’t I? Now I’ve made myself
blush.
His eyebrows creep a hair higher.
“I trust
you’re both well-rested from your leave.”
Man,
he’s not gonna let this go is he?
“Yes, sir,”
we respond in unison.
“My aunt tells me the ocean air is
so conducive to a good night’s sleep.” Yep, he emphasizes
the word ‘sleep’. He’s having way too much fun with
this. I steal a glance at Mac. Damn, she’s good. Her face isn’t
betraying a thing. That’s my Marine!
The Admiral sits back
in his chair and gives me a look I bet I’ll get from St. Peter
when the time comes. Is he gonna let us in? Let us off? Kick us out?
Worse yet, kick only one of us out?
“I know I don’t
have to tell you how many charges I could bring.”
Rhetorical,
we both decide and stay silent.
He puts on his reading glasses
and opens a folder. “I’ve discussed this situation with
the SecNav.”
Now I want the floor to swallow both me and
Mac. Good god, he called the SecNav and they discussed where, when
and probably speculated on how Mac and I started ‘fraternizing’?
Don’t we have the right to any privacy? Guess not.
“I
assured him that your fraternization was very recent and that you are
engaged.”
And that made points with him? I wonder.
The
Admiral continues, apparently unaware that I’m beginning to
question if I’ll ever hoist my mast again with all this
inspection of its activities and readiness going on. “He knows
that you are my two most senior attorneys, that you have both had,
well at least one of you have had, well no, let’s just say he
acknowledges the contributions you have both made.”
That
was a nice little dance around our ‘interesting’ service
records.
“So, in recognition of that and how
short-staffed we are, he’s agreed to let me keep both of you
here at JAG Headquarters. At least for the time being.”
I
want to jump up, grab Mac and twirl her around. I want to throw my
head back and howl in joy like I do when I fly ‘Sarah’.
Instead, we say in unison “Thank you, sir.”
I take
a split-second look at Mac and see her doing the same to me. You
know, pretty soon we aren’t gonna need to talk at all.
Telepathy and looks are gonna fill in quite nicely I think.
Focusing
back on the Admiral, I take in a sharp breath. Staying at JAG was the
carrot, here comes the stick.
“However, if I ever catch
you, or catch wind of the two of you comporting yourself in any way
other than the most unreproachable military manner you will be posted
to opposite ends of the world so fast you won’t have time to
pack a sea bag.”
“Sir, you can count on the
Colonel and I to maintain the highest military bearing.” I hope
I sound sincere because truth to be told I had a fantasy about the
conference table. And I know a really secluded corner in the back of
the law library. Then there is always the elevator. Gee, I’ve
already kissed her in that.
Mac, who’s been surprisingly
quiet through this, chimes in. “Sir, the Commander and I have
treated each other with military courtesy and deportment for years.
This won’t change that.”
Both the Admiral and I
give her incredulous looks. She glances from me to him. “Really,
sir.” Damn, she sounds so honest. Does she really believe I’m
not gonna grab her in the elevator if I get the chance?
The
Admiral just snorts. “Right Mac.” He shakes his head.
“Just don’t let anyone ever catch you.”
“But
sir,” she starts to protest. ‘Leave it alone Mac,’
I pray.
He puts up his hand, palm out to stop her. “Commander,
I have yet to determine the appropriate punishment for
misrepresenting your health to me.”
Oh, that’s
good. ‘Misrepresenting your health’ is a significant
improvement over ‘lying to a superior officer’ .
“I’ll
be getting back to you on that shortly. But for now I think that’s
all. You two might want to talk with Lts. Roberts and Simms about how
they’ve managed to balance their personal and work
relationships. They seem to have done a good job over the years.”
He’s all fatherly advice now. “Except, of course, when
she’s pregnant.”
His head swivels over to Mac,
eyebrows at maximum elevation. “Colonel?”
“Yes,
sir. No, sir.”
“OK, good. Plenty of time for that
after you two are married.” I think I see him sigh in relief.
Would kinda blow our story of just getting together if Mac was
pregnant, wouldn’t it.
“Fine, then, dismissed. I
expect there are a few people out there waiting for an announcement
from you two. Dismissed.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
We stand, crisply turn and walk out of his office.
An
announcement? Jeez, seemed to me everyone already knew. Wonder how
that happened? Surely the Admiral didn’t tell anyone. Other
than the SecNav. Who he probably talked to on the phone. On a call
placed through one Petty Officer Jennifer Coates, who may have some
serious explaining to do.
The Petty Officer in question stands
as Mac and I exit the Admiral’s office. I nail her with my ace
JAG investigator stare. She gulps. A blatant admission of guilt.
(What’s with all this gulping going around, I briefly wonder.
First Mac, then me, now Jenn.)
“Sir, ma’am.
Everything alright? Anything I can do for you?” She’s
nervous, even more evidence of her guilt. Oh well, she’s young
and a romantic. But she’s gonna have to pay just a little for
what I’m sure is her letting the cat out of the bag.
Mac
and I look at each other. Yep, on the same page. We both adopt
despairing attitudes. “Yes, Jenn. You need to call the Marine
guard to escort the Colonel and me to the brig. You might ask Lt.
Roberts and Commander Turner if they would be willing to defend us.
But I’m afraid we’re both looking at time in
Leavenworth.”
I steal a glance at Mac. Damn, she’s
even managed to make her lower lip quiver! She really needs to
consider doing a little community theater.
“Oh no!”
Jenn goes pale, her hands flying up to her chest.
If she
faints I’m gonna be sorry I pulled this. Mac, on the other
hand, seems to have no worries about pushing it just a bit
more.
“Well Jenn, we just don’t have a defensible
case. The Admiral himself caught us in the act.”
I never
knew eyes could get that wide. “In the act....?” Jenn
croaks.
“In the middle of a public street.” I’m
piling on but it’s clear now that prurient interest has won out
and she is no longer in danger of fainting.
“At a
seaside resort,” Mac says with the exact amount of
contrition.
“And a bunch of teenagers were cheering us
on,” I add.
Jenn collapses in her chair. She’s
actually fanning herself. “Did any of them have a camera?”
she asks.
Mac and I look at her, we look at each other, look
back at her and burst out laughing.
“Oh, Jenn,”
The relief of getting through the meeting with the Admiral mixes with
her innocent inquiry and I lose it. A chuckle turns into a laugh. A
laugh turns into a guffaw. I’m roaring now, tears running down
my cheeks. “No, to my knowledge no one has a picture of us
kissing.”
“Kissing?” Boy, does she sound
disappointed. “But surely, if you’re gonna get
married....”
There it is! The proverbial smoking gun. I
feel the investigator’s hat settle firmly on my head as I
abruptly stop laughing, pin her with a glare and lean forward on her
desk.
“What makes you think we’re getting married,
Jenn? For that matter, what made the entire crew here at JAG greet us
with the wedding march this morning?”
“Well, sir.
Lt. Simms and I heard the Admiral talking to the SecNav...”
“Ah
ha! So this was a conspiracy, eh? You and the good Lieutenant joined
forces to ruin our careers, shred our reputations, sully our good
names?”
I feel Mac’s gentle touch on my sleeve.
“Harm, I think we can let her off the hook now. You know,
before she gets gray hair and starts to cry.”
Looking at
Jenn I see I may have pushed it a mite too far. But I just got into
the role. Maybe I should join Mac at the community playhouse; this
acting stuff is fun.
“Jenn, it’s OK. Really, I’m
sorry. We were just pulling your chain ‘cause we suspected you
were the leak. Should have known Harriet-the-office-Internet-Simms
was involved too.” I use my most soothing voice.
“Oh
sir, I’m so sorry. I’ll call those Marine guards
now.”
“NO!” Mac and I exclaim, once again
doing that unison thing. “No Marine guards, no brig, no court
marshall. We’re just fine Jenn.”
Her smile of
relief could float a listing battleship. As I straighten up (gosh,
guess I was kinda looming over her) I notice the Admiral standing in
his office doorway.
“Coates,” pure command voice
now. “I think you should retrieve ‘the book’ and
bring it into the bullpen. I believe the Commander and the Colonel
have an announcement to make.”
Why is he smiling like
the Cheshire cat? Why does that make me so nervous? I knew we were
getting away with this way too easy. I’m suddenly feeling like
Wile E. Coyote and Admiral Roadrunner has an Acme anvil hanging over
my head.
Dutifully, Mac and I walk into the bullpen.
“Attention on deck,” the Admiral himself orders.
His
look at us broaches no wiggle room.
OK, I can do this with
decorum and grace, I hope. “For those of you who may not know,
I turned 40 this past Saturday.” Mild, polite applause. Clearly
the crowd is waiting for the big payoff.
“Colonel
MacKenzie gave me the best present I could ever hope for. She agreed
to marry me.”
The crowd goes wild. Yes, that is what
they were waiting for. Over the general tumult I hear Harriet’s
squeals of delight as she bounds up to us, grabs me around the neck
and plants a kiss on my cheek. Then hugs Mac so hard I think I see my
Marine grimace.
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all
about you two opening your presents!” Harriet
exclaims.
“Harriet!” Bud, Mac, Sturgis and I gasp
in dismay. “Lt. Simms!” the Admiral chokes.
She draws
herself up graciously with an air of propriety I’m sure can
only be bred in a Southern woman. “We’re all adults here.
We all know these two have been dancing around each other for years.
All I want to know is how Prince Charming and Cinderella enjoyed
finally getting to the ball.”
She says it with such
aplomb we’re all rendered momentarily speechless.
I
vaguely hear the Admiral clear his throat. “Commander, Colonel,
I may want to amend who you should consult about balancing military
and personal roles.” Good advice, sir.
Harriet’s
still looking around like she has no idea how embarrassing that was.
I can only hope that’s as personally mortifying it’s
gonna get, but the Admiral’s still got his Roadrunner look on
and the Acme anvil hasn’t fallen yet.
“Coates, did
you retrieve ‘the book?’”
Uh-oh, is that
the sound of an anvil whistling through the air as it drops toward my
head?
“Yes, sir. Have it right here sir.” She’s
perky. She has a gleam in her eye. I’m beginning to really
regret pulling her chain a few minutes ago.
The Admiral
strikes a pose. He’s positioned himself in front of the tall
ship display, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest and a look
that can only be described as wicked anticipation. “Commander,
Colonel, I’m sure I speak for everyone in this office when I
extend you both the most heartfelt congratulations on your
engagement.”
There’s a smattering of applause that
sounds like it’s waiting for the big payoff again. I turn to
Mac, who gives me a shrug with her eyes. She doesn’t have a
clue where this is going either, but I can see she’s getting
apprehensive too.
“Thank you all,” we once again
do our unison performance.
“And now that you are
engaged, there are some scores to be settled.” The Admiral
gestures to Coates who moves to stand next to him, holding a ledger
book open in front of her, pen in hand.
“Proceed Petty
Officer,” the Admiral directs.
Oh god, why doesn’t
that anvil land now? I’d heard rumors about this, but never
really believed them. I thought it was only an office legend, sort of
like the stories about Singer getting caught coming out of a leather
bar with not one but two biker types. But this is beginning to sound
alarmingly real.
Instinctively I grab hold of Mac’s
hand. Together. We’ll face this together. I give it a
squeeze.
The Admiral seizes on it immediately. “Commander,
Colonel, what have we discussed about military demeanor?”
“That we need to maintain it in the office at all
times, sir,” I reply momentarily forgetting that it doesn’t
allow hand holding in the bullpen. Even when we’re about to be
publicly humiliated.
“Then why are you two holding
hands?” he bellows.
We drop them like the legendary hot
potato. “For moral support?” Mac weakly offers.
“You
two are battle-hardened senior military officers. I’m sure you
can handle this.”
I only wish I was as sure of that as
he seems to be.
“Continue, Petty Officer.”
“Sir,
ma’am, as you may or may not know, there is an office pool
about you two. That is, about various aspects of your relationship.
Now, over the years...”
Years!?! This has been going on
for years? Jeez, don’t people have anything better to do with
their time and money? Try betting on the Super Bowl. The NCAA always
is good for a pool. Hell, play the ponies. Why us?
“...many
of the minor, short term pools have been settled because outcomes
were easily agreed on by all pool participants so bets could be paid
off.”
Wait, wait, wait. ‘Minor, short term pools?’
What on earth is she talking about?
“Jenn, what do you
mean by ‘minor, short term pools’?” I’m
afraid to ask but have to know.
“Well, to answer that
completely I’d have to do some research, but most recently
they’ve been about things like how often you two will have
lunch together in a given number of weeks. Or how long it will be
between obvious fights then making up. There are very specific
definitions attached so all pool participants can agree as to
outcomes. Actually, for a pool running as long as this one with as
many subsets under the master pool, it has run amazingly smoothly.
Hardly ever been a disagreement about outcomes.”
She’s
actually proud of that. I know I’m gaping but I can’t
help it. I turn to Mac. She’s gaping too. Great, now we’re
the carp family.
“Years?” Mac quietly asks. “Jenn,
how many years has this pool been going on?”
“It
was started in 1997, ma’am. But I’ve only been handling
it since Tiner turned it over to me.”
The Admiral shifts
his position just enough so that we all know he’s gonna take
control of these proceedings. “I’m sure if the two of you
want more detailed history of the pool, you can get it later on your
own time. Right now, there are a lot of interested parties out there
that need, and deserve, the answers only you two can give to settle
at least some of the master pool. Coates?”
“Yes,
sir. Commander, Colonel, what was the date of your first date?”
She looks expectantly at us, pen poised over the ledger.
I
look at Mac. How the hell can we answer that? She gives me her little
eye shrug; she doesn’t know either.
OK, I’ll take
a stab at it. “That would either be this past Sunday...”
“Or
several years ago,” Mac finishes it for me.
A groan
comes up from the crowd.
“Unacceptably vague answer,”
the Admiral admonishes.
Hey, I’m an ace JAG attorney,
right? I ought to be able to argue, or at least obfuscate my way out
of this.
“Sir, if you’d let Mac and me take
opposing sides, I’m confident we can present compelling
arguments for either conclusion.” Hey, take that big guy!
“I’m
sure you could, but that’s not gonna happen and it’s not
good enough. There’s too much money on the line. Too many
people with vested interest in this. You two are the only ones who
can answer this question, so you will come up with an answer by the
end of the day. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Just call us the unison twins.
“Sir, if I may, exactly
how much money are we talking about here?” What, a couple
hundred bucks I’m thinking.
He looks at Coates, who
consults the ledger. “On this one question there’s about
$5,000 right now. The pool in its entirety is over $24,000. Can’t
be precise ‘cause of course it’s invested and I’d
have to check on today’s market.”
Oh my god! And
they have it invested in the market. I sure wish that anvil would hit
‘cause it’d give me a great excuse to collapse.
“What
are the other questions, Jenn?” MAC, DON’T ASK! How is it
our nonverbal communication cuts out at this critical juncture?
I
see it in her face. It didn’t cut out. She just wants to get
this over.
“When did you get engaged?”
OK,
that’s an easy one. “Sunday morning.”
“On
your first date?” she asks skeptically.
Woah, they’ve
been placing bets on this for years and now they’re gonna pull
moral judgments? The nerve.
If looks could kill, the nice
young Petty Officer would be in a body bag.
“Have you
set a date?” We simultaneously shake our heads ‘no’.
“Mac, are you pregnant?” “NO!!!” we
both shout.
That’s about all I can take. “Sir, I
understand that many people have invested what I think is way too
much time, energy and money in this, but I must protest at the
personal nature of these questions!”
He cocks his head,
lifts his eyebrows and declares, “You two could have avoided
all of this by not screwing around for years. As it is, I think you
two should consider this a ‘crossing the line’ ceremony
that you richly deserve.” He nods to Jenn.
“Last
one for right now...”
“Right now?” my voice
sounds weak even to myself.
“Well sir, ma’am,
there are pools that concern events after engagement, but I’m
duty-bound to not disclose those to you.”
Damn, she’s
so earnest I almost find myself agreeing with her. Of course she
can’t, we could influence the outcome. ‘Influence?’
We *are* the outcome!
“The last one Jenn?” Oh, I’m
so afraid I know what this is gonna be.
“When did the
two of you first ‘fraternize’?”
“Permission
to be dismissed, sir!” Mac and I beg.
“Granted,
but we’ll need those answers by the end of the day. The pool’s
rules require it.”
What, like it’s part of the
UCMJ? Like the SecNav’s in on it? Oh god, he might be. The
former one too for that matter.
I don’t remember getting
back to my office but here I am, sitting behind my desk. Mac comes in
and shuts the door. She starts to close the blinds. “NO! Mac,
don’t do that, it might start another pool. Or be part of one.
Oh god.” I rest my elbows on my desk and hold my head in my
hands.
“Harm,” her voice caresses me almost as
well as her hands. “It’s OK Harm. All we need to do is
tell the truth. We first ‘fraternized’ on Saturday, we
got engaged Sunday morning, our first date was Sunday through
Tuesday.”
“Maac, you want everyone to know we
slept together not *on* our first date but *before* our first date?”
I’m distressed by this notion, why isn’t she?
“Harm,
isn’t it obvious from the pool that everyone has expected us to
get together for years? Besides, we don’t want to start
claiming another timeline because the Admiral’s already on
record with the SecNav. And everyone’s gonna know that it was
after your birthday party. Gee, you basically announced that to the
bullpen!”
I know she’s right but I can’t
help feeling like I’ve let her down. “Mac, I don’t
want anyone to think you just tumbled into bed with me. The size of
the pool, the number of years it’s been going on, do you have
any idea how many people might be informed of the significant events
on our timeline?” At this rate I wouldn’t be surprised to
see the results published in The Navy Times.
She’s
stunned for a moment. Then she starts clapping her hands and
giggling. The giggles turn into laughs. The laughs turn into howls. I
spy many eyes in the bullpen peering through my office
windows.
“Harm, good heavens, we’ve been
platonically in love with each other for seven years. I don’t
think anyone’s gonna accuse us of impetuously jumping into the
sack.”
Gotta admit she has a point there.
There’s
a knock at my door and I see Bud standing outside. Mac lets him
in.
“Sir, ma’am. Sorry to bother you, I know
you’re working on important business in here that we’re
all eagerly waiting for, but if you could give me an update on when
you think I can publish the answers....I’m getting swamped by
e-mail.”
“E-mail, Bud? I thought this was just a
JAG office thing.” The anvil’s inches above my head, I
can feel it.
“Oh well, it certainly started that way,
sir. But over the years, well, a lot of people have seen you two
together in action.”
I don’t want to know this but
I have to.
“OK, Bud, in shorthand, how far-flung is the
pool?”
“Gee, there’s the JAG and former JAG
Headquarters people, the Congressional group...”
He sees
my question, “Congresswoman Latham started that one. The
submariners...”
I’ll kill Sturgis.
“Oh,
no, Commander Turner didn’t start that one, it started on the
Watertown. There’s the CIA group, but I don’t know much
about that, they just keep saying they need to know. Then there’s
the Pentagon bunch; Admiral Boone, the SecNav, the former SecNav. Not
to forget the Marine contingent, both here and overseas. All told,
the broadcast e-mail list for the results is close to 2400.”
That’s
it. That’s all I can take. I bury my head in my hands again.
Twenty-four hundred people are going to be informed via e-mail of
when Mac and I finally ‘fraternized’. My brain’s
gonna explode. Not sure if I’m flyboy proud that I finally got
her in my bed or abashed that it took me so long to get my head out
of my six to realize I need her there the for rest of my life.
Mac,
on the other hand is whooping it up.
“Hey Harm, this is
great. We don’t have to work on an invitation list to the
wedding. Bud’s got it on his computer!”
Is this
the 6-year-old? Or has her brain short-circuited like mine is
threatening to do?
“You know what else, Harm?”
I’m afraid to even speculate.
“I think we
should petition for a percentage of the subsequent pools.”
How
can she be enthusiastic about this?
“Subsequent
pools?”
“Yeah, Jenn mentioned subsequent pools.
I’ll bet there are pools like how long between engagement and
marriage, how many fights between engagement and marriage, how long
before I get pregnant. Whole lot of juicy fodder for pools. And I
think we can make a strong argument that we deserve a percentage, not
knowing what they are but in determining their outcomes.”
I
look at her. She’s got that one eyebrow raised again. We both
turn to Bud.
“Sir, ma’am, I’m honor bound to
not disclose any information about any subsequent pools.” He’s
stammering and backing toward the door.
“Dismissed,
Bud.” I gaze over at the woman of my dreams. The love of my
life. My Marine who somehow finds this all very amusing.
“So,
this isn’t gonna go away is it?” I give a resigned
sigh.
“No Harm, it’s energy. It’s not going
to go away. But I think I’ve just changed it to suit our needs.
Which charity would you like to donate our proceeds to?”
Thank
god for that lovely 2nd Law. I smile. Then I really smile.
“How
‘bout the ‘first Rabb-MacKenzie baby’ fund?”
I can tell she likes that idea.
whew, that was a long one,
fini for now
For those readers who missed watching
cartoons in the ‘60’s, Wile E. Coyote and the RoadRunner
starred in a series of cartoons. Wile E. was always trying to catch
the RoadRunner using crazy stuff, always from Acme. Dynamite,
bazookas, rockets, anvils, you get the picture. The RoadRunner always
managed to turn the Acme what-ever back on Wile E. (Guess he wasn’t
so wily, eh?) Fortunately, when you’re a cartoon character,
getting blown up doesn’t make much of a dent. The fun thing
about the series, at least to me, was the viewers knew that Wile E.
and the RoadRunner both knew it was a game. They both knew it was
rigged (Wile E. would never win), but they loved playing it anyway.
Hope that helps any cartoon-deprived readers.