I do not own Rocky and Bullwinkle. I can claim Belinda the flying squirrel and my newest OC, Ginger the moose, but that is it. The reason why this disclaimer is underlined is because I'm going to have the narrator's lines be in bold like I should have in my last Rocky and Bullwinkle story. I don't feel like I did the show justice in that one…

Our story opens today in the small town of Frostbite Falls, Minnesota. In this little town were two very big heroes: Rocket J. Squirrel and his pal, Bullwinkle the moose. Also with them was Rocky's romantic interest, Belinda, a brown flying squirrel who had stolen his heart when we last saw them. At the Frostbite Falls train station, a new character is just stepping off the train.

A female moose had turned her head so her antlers would not get caught in the doorway as she stepped off the train. The moose, whose name was Ginger, muttered to herself, "I hope she's okay. With luck, she got away from those criminals and found Rocky and Bullwinkle." She walked up to a stand that sold maps and asked, "Excuse me. Do any of these show the location of Rocky the flying squirrel's home?"

"Boy, do they! You know, Rocky's got a new girlfriend. Her name's Belinda. Cute thing," the salesman told her. "You want a map? Fifty cents."

"Thank you," Ginger thanked the salesman, paid, and took a map.

Meanwhile, at Rocky and Bullwinkle's house, Bullwinkle was making breakfast for Rocky and Belinda.

"How I love bakin' bacon because bakin' is the thing to do," Bullwinkle sang as he was making pancakes in a frying pan.

"That song's not so fitting," Belinda commented in a yawn.

"Neither is a ten-gallon hat that only holds three gallons," Bullwinkle replied. "Do you like your pancakes sunny-side up?"

As fate would have it, Bullwinkle had eggs in the frying pan, but none of the other ingredients.

"You have to break a few eggs to make a pancake, you know," Bullwinkle chuckled.

"Yeah, but you need more than just eggs," Rocky informed Bullwinkle.

"I'm trying to become more of an egghead these days," Bullwinkle said in his defense.

"Aren't you worried about cholesterol?" Rocky asked his buddy curiously.

"Never heard of her," Bullwinkle shrugged.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"I've got it. Watch my pancakes, Rock?" Bullwinkle declared, heading toward the door. Upon opening it, he was staring at the most beautiful she-moose he had ever seen. "Bow-wow!"

"What kind of moose goes—Ginger!" Belinda came over to see what was taking Bullwinkle so long. She was surprised and amazed to see her old friend, Ginger.

Belinda explained to our boys that she and Ginger used to live together in their hometown, until one day, something terrible happened.

"What was it? A hurricane?" Rocky asked.

"No," Belinda shook her head.

"Wildfires?" Bullwinkle asked.

"No," again, Belinda shook her head.

"Tax collectors," Ginger finally told them. "They had driven us out of town after Snidely Whiplash came in and foreclosed our mortgages after the taxes got too high, and Belinda and I were separated. Last I heard, some Pottsylvanians got to her before I could pinpoint her. That is, until today. I was told that she was living with…a boyfriend."

"B-boyfriend?" Rocky echoed, his gray furred face turning scarlet before their eyes.

"Sounds like those darned tax collectors were collecting a king's ransom!" Bullwinkle banged his fist on their coffee table.

"Close. It was a fearless leader's ransom," Ginger explained.

"You mean…" Belinda felt tears form in her eyes.

"Yes. He had his spies disguise themselves as tax collectors and squeeze as much money out of it as he could. Now, it's a warehouse complex full of pot stickers and soap that smells like gunpowder," Ginger nodded and hugged her old friend.

"I guess it was a blast of fresh scents," Bullwinkle chuckled.

"Is this a joke to you, Bullwinkle?" Rocky asked in slight annoyance.

Eavesdropping from outside was that no-good fiend, that vile villain, that crazed crook—

"Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear narrator," a short, stout man with a Pottsylvanian accent said sweetly.

…Boris Badenov.

"At your service," Boris took off his hat and took a bow.

And his partner in crime, Natasha Fatale.

"Charmed, dollink," said a tall, slender woman with an accent of the same nationality as Boris.

"I think I vaguely remember the girl moose. She was first to protest collection," Boris recalled.

"Back in Pottsylvania, in situations like that, we just give each other new necktie. Made of rope," Natasha shrugged and informed the audience.

H-hey, this is a kids' show!

"This is no different from what we said back in the sixties!" Boris claimed defensively.

Alright, you have a point…

"Anyways, moose and squirrel better not get in our way this time," Boris said with a heaving sigh.

What is your plan this time, anyway?

"We can't tell you," Natasha informed the narrator.

Well, why not?

"Because we have to keel you first if you want to know," Boris answered. "Curiosity killed the storyteller, eh, Natasha?"

"Yes, dollink!" Natasha laughed at Boris' pun.

Okay, I don't want to know anymore. Meanwhile, inside, Bullwinkle was offering some breakfast to Ginger.

"Do you like your pancakes sunny-side up?" Bullwinkle asked her.

"I ate on the train, but thanks," Ginger thanked flatly.

"Oh. Okay," Bullwinkle said glumly, flipping his eggs as he fried them.

"I didn't know you lived with a moose back home," Rocky said to Belinda.

"It was too painful to talk about. I'm sorry, Rocky," Belinda apologized. Rocky pulled the brown flying squirrel into a loving and comforting hug.

"Don't be sorry," he told her soothingly. "I'd be quiet about it, too, if I had to be away from Bullwinkle for that long. Why, I don't think that's happened since…I want to say it was since the New Greenpernt incident. Hokey smoke, was I lonely."

"Yeah," Belinda nodded tearfully. She was happy deep down inside because she could tell that Rocky understood how she felt.

While they were all so absorbed in what was going on around them, none of them notice a hand slip in through the open window by the stove and put a grenade in the egg carton. What will become of our heroes? Tune into our next exciting episode, "Egg-splosion" or "You Need to Break Some Bombshells to Make an Omelet".