Hey everyone, sorry for taking so long to update. The scheduled day of updating this story, I reread the chapter and thought; "Oh god, this is a horrible draft", do I took the time to rewrite it.

I took too much time. But hey, now I'm finally updating it! No joke! And I'm updating it today for a special reason…

Today, April 1st, happens to be my birthday!

Yep, it's true! No April-Fools prank here!

Anyways, enjoy this chapter, will you? On with the show, then!

PS: There's cussing in this chapter, as per usual with my writing, so if you don't like that stuff, Be Warner!

...I mean be warned...

Chapter 1: An Unwanted Chance Encounter

The room was silent.

For a fraction of a second.

"Hmm? Who's the new guy, TP?" The tallest one had asked, making a curious gesture towards the boy, who turned away and stared off into the ozone layer, trying not to make any awkward eye contact.

He'd run for the hills if he could, but the problem with that was they would catch him and force him to stay.

Against his own will.

'Wait...' The boy thought. 'That's right...unlike all of the other self inserts I've read, I actually have control over what I say and do! I can put logic and reasoning to illogical and unreasonable things! I can use the rights that all Americans have to my advantage! I can give good reasons as to why they shouldn't be allowed to keep me around! Maybe I can get the hell out of here after all!'

"You have a weird smile. Are you okay?" The capped one had walked in front of the boy who absentmindedly smiled at his own thoughts. He shook himself back to reality, or whatever this place was, and looked at the four curious faces; Plotz shrugged and didn't know what to say. Normally he'd be yelling at the trio but right now he could only watch as the interest in the the three began to shift to the boy.

He stood up and forced another sigh; he sounded like he was trying to be as obnoxious as possible. "Mr. Plotz, do you have a bathroom? I need to...recollect my thoughts."

"Umm...yes, third floor, first door on the right." Plotz directed. The boy left the room, and as he neared the elevator, he heard shouting ensue in the office.

He stared at himself in the mirror. He noticed the bags under his eyes as his expression turned to a scowl.

He screwed up.

He screwed up horribly.

They knew of his existence now. And he screwed up.

"Maybe it won't be so bad." He told himself. "Oh who the fuck am I kidding, this is gonna be terrible. Utterly terrible."

He stood still and didn't move; he could only hear the ticking of the cheap wall clock. After minutes he breathed out loudly from his nostrils.

"Why can't things be simple?" He asked himself. "God's plan is really weird...I just have to be around them, as much as I don't want to, and if I run away they'll get suspicious...or maybe they won't be interested and they'll leave me alone?"

Time to take a chance.

A really bad chance.

He left the restroom and slowly trudged back up to the third floor by the use of the incredibly pointless long stairs. He hoped their interests would shift over to something else by this point.

Perhaps they did; the office was only inhabited by Plotz when he returned. The man stared at his overturned office desk and opened file cabinets, papers strewn across the floor.

The man looked calmly agitated, like a ticking time bomb, as if one more thing would set him off. He sighed and continued to stare, muttering something under his breath.

The boy absentmindedly started to pick up the papers when he thought about something; what made the trio up and leave? Surely they would have stayed to meet the new guy, right? Where had they scampered off to?

Prior knowledge told him they were still nearby; they never left entirely until they actually got bored.

"You, uh, don't need to pick anything up. I can take care of it all." Plotz said.

"Sir...I'd at least like to help in someway." The boy said. "Had I arrived in a...different manor, and if my actions were slightly different...I feel your opinion of me would have been misconstrued."

Plotz didn't exactly understand the meaning of what he had said, but the boy knew all too well he was talking about. Had he been thrown into the cliche wormhole he would have been spat out into this world as an overly energetic toon-turned fanboy.

And had he become that, he probably would have impaled himself on the gates of the studio.

He finished picking up and the papers and stacked them neatly in a pile on the floor, then helped pick up the desk.

Never expected them to get this rowdy...wait, yes I did.

"Thank you for the help, uh..." Plotz stopped himself, unsure of what to call the boy.

"...Jake, call me Jake." The boy muttered. He finished helping fix the office and took a pen and slip of paper from the desk. He earned a quizzical look from Plotz as he started writing.

"Um, what are you writing?" Plotz was handed the slip of paper as soon as he finished the sentence.

"I don't trust speaking my problem out loud." Jake muttered. "This paper should explain everything; that I know of, at least."

He straightened his shirt and left without another word, muttering something about 'not wanting to be caught up in the middle of something unprofessional'.

And of course, as soon as the office door shut, three toons shot into the room out of nowhere and snatched up the slip of paper out of Plotz's hand after he had read it over.

"What the-" Plotz watched the three toons bounce off of the wall and land in the middle of the room with ease. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "Give me that note and get out of here!"

"Hmm..." The tallest one inspected the paper, donning a monocle out of nowhere. "This is a very interesting story, but I'm afraid that we'll have to confiscate this note."

The tallest slipped the note into his trousers and proceeded to leave the room with the two others, but he stopped and turned to face the man. "I find this story very hard to believe, some kind of dimensional warp..."

Plotz was about to disagree when he thought about it. "Well the idea of jumping dimensions is very far fetched...almost cliche. You do have a point about this potentially being fake, Warner...what do you suggest?"

The tallest one grinned slyly, and the two shorter ones followed suite.

"I'm considering finding this kid and asking him about the credibility of his supposed predicament. I say we make him reconsider trying to fool dull knives like you, T.P.!"

Plotz growled and shouted at the trio to leave. Of course, then he thought about the note more.

"Well I can see the story being unbelievable, but...is making the child a special friend necessary?" The man said to himself. "If he's not from around here, then he won't survive being hit by a falling anvil..."

The streets were, strangely, still empty. Jake strolled towards the entrance, occasionally looking over his shoulder. He didn't feel like he was alone; some weird sixth sense told him something was possibly nearby.

It was like that movie, The Sixth Sense...wait, no it wasn't.

His mind dawdled from his main point of focus. Why couldn't some other major fan be teleported here?

If he could get outside of the gates, he'd be home free, home fucking free.

But then again, he'd need to be quicker than he was now.

But if he ran, he'd probably be spotted.

Watching a lot of...specific television shows, had helped him learn to think far ahead and assess his situations carefully. Right now, though, no matter how fast he could potentially be in running, he'd never beat the speed carried by seemingly every toon to ever exist or have existed.

It was strangely abnormal, how they did it was a mystery...

But then again, this was a cartoon, and cartoons could do anything.

He was most likely screwed if anything "illogical" were to happen to him, such as an anvil falling out of the sky…

Which was happening to him, apparently, because as soon as he glanced up, he leaped out of the way in fright as a large, iron anvil plummeted to the ground upon which he once stood, followed by three black blurs zooming towards him.

-(End Of Chapter)-

Not incredibly proud of this chapter, I really think it could have been better...I'm just out of the loop for writing for Animaniacs and I suck at writing happy stuff (which is why I never write it) like the Warners' behaviors. But, you know, this is not a joke chapter, so...yeah.

Hope you've enjoyed, I'd love any and all thoughts and criticism, and stay tuned for more.

~087-B