ALRIGHT, welcome to my latest fanfic. This one's a bit different for a change in many ways from the past few fanfiction's I've done. Maybe the greatest change for me is that it's an alternative take on my youth. As a kid, I always dreamed of going to the world where cartoon characters were real and meeting them in person. This is an alternative on the story in which a teen who HATES cartoon characters, is forced to work with them. This was mainly inspired by the plot to Who Framed Roger Rabbit, but I added some parts that show reverse-moments of my childhood. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it. Oh, BTW, I OWN NOTHING but the OC characters in the Story. This is for Fan-Purpopses only, so please don't sue! That said, let's look at our cast list (yeah, betcha never thought you'd see THAT in one of my stories!)

CAST:

HUMANS:

ZAC EFRON as BRENROME

MICHAEL J FOX as MR. BAD

BRETT ANDERSON as MEG LILLY

MATT GREONING as HIMSELF

MICHAEL BAY as HIMSELF

HUNTER PARRISH as ALAN

JIMMY BENNET as YOUNG BRENROME

CHLOE MORETZ as YOUNG MEG LILLY

CARTOON CHARACTERS:

ED as HIMSELF

EDD as HIMSELF

EDDY as HIMSELF

ALEXIS RHODES as HERSELF

BEN GRIMM/THE THING (2009 Fantastic Four Cartoon Version) as HIMSELF

TIMMY TURNER as HIMSELF

COSMO as HIMSELF

WANDA as HERSELF

TRIXIE TANG as HERSELF

THE SIMPSONS CHARACTERS as THEMSELVES

ANY OTHER CARTOON CHARACTERS THAT MAKE AN APPEARANCE as THEMSELVES.

10 YEARS AGO

Fanfictionia was a nice quiet town. Established far back in 1947, the town began as most towns did; very small, making as much as the community could to pay taxes and such. Eventually, though, they got rich once a group of people who refereed to themselves as 'Cartoons' put together a show, and broadcasted it live to all the TV stations in the good old US of A. Once people saw it, they demanded more, and so they got more. With that one show, billions of other 'Cartoons' followed, making Fanfictionia one of the richest towns in California. But as with all rich towns, there were not those who did not wish to abide to the rules of society.

The alarm bells were ringing loudly as a group of men, (all of whom were covered in black ski masks,) wearing hoodies, raced to their getaway car. Two of them carried bags filled to the brim with 100 dollar bills in them. One held a gun towards the bank they were exiting in a threatening manner, to show them that they meant business. Finally, the last one was holding a young girl by her throat, while he pressed a gun to her temple, ready to shoot if need be.

Once they had loaded the cash in the trunk, the robbers took the girl and forced her into the car. The driver started the engine as the robber not holding the gun, pointed his gun at the window.

"ALL RIGHT PEOPLE," He called, "IF I SEE ANY OF YAS OR THE COPS FOLLOWING US ON OUR TRIP TO NEVADA; THE MAYOR'S DAUGHTER GETS IT!"

The young girl started to cry uncontrollably. She was obviously not used to being threatened with her life. Then again, who was?

The bandits then took off, but as soon as they reached the first traffic light, the car stopped. Everyone looked confused, as they had not stopped the car on their own. Somebody or something else had.

"What the hell...?" The driver asked.

As soon as he finished, the car suddenly shot backwards at lightning fast speed. Everyone screamed before they suddenly stopped...for about 5 seconds. The car then shot forward again stopping at the first traffic light they had come across, and then shot back again. The process repeated five times, before they finally stopped. The robbers reached for their guns, only to find that they had vanished.

"Well, well, well," A voice called, approaching them, "Not very creative thinking are you."

The people in the car turned to see a 12-year-old, wearing a police uniform approaching them. He had a good physique and had red hair. Oh; and he was also holding the bandits guns.

The kid cop just smiled as he threw the guns at a garbage truck that was passing by. The guns went into the truck, and soon, the truck had left, carrying the bandits only defense with it. The Cop took out a pistol and waved it at the bandits, seriously.

"Step out of the car." He said, calmly, "Please."

The bandits did so, and the cop cuffed each and every one of them. He then turned down the street at the younger looking-kid wearing a similar uniform to his, approaching them.

"Baby Bro," He ordered, "Go check on Miss Lindy, and make sure she's okay."

The young boy nodded. He went over to the car where the girl was still sitting in, and opened the door. He almost stumbled to the ground when he saw how beautiful she was. She had strawberry-orange hair, and beautiful blue eyes. She was VERY cute.

The girl also saw how cute the boy was also. Unlike the older brother, his hair was brown, and he had the world's most funny-looking green eyes to her.

"Uh..." He said, trying to focus on the task at-hand, "Are you okay...Miss Lindy?"

"Yeah," She said, stepping out of the car, "You...gonna tell me your name or..."

"BrenRome."

"What?" She asked, confused.

"That's what my name is," The boy said, "BrenRome. Mom didn't have a lot of time to think of names, when she gave birth to me and my big brother, Alan. I was just announced to be born 5 seconds after he was delivered."

"I see..." The girl said, deciding to change the subject, "How did you do that, by the way?"

BrenRome smiled, and reached underneath the tire of the car. He pulled out a wad of bubble gum that was apparently under the tire.

"Stretchy bubble gum." He announced, "Never leave the station without it, Miss Lindy."

"Okay," She said, "Just one thing; call me Meg. It's my first name."

"Okay, Meg." BrenRome said, starting to blush uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, his older brother was listing the sentence for the robbers, when an unexpected voice broke in.

"HEY, ALAN! CATCH!"

Alan looked up just in time to see the instrument of his death...right before it slammed him into the ground, crushing him completely.

BrenRome and Meg turned away from their conversation, and saw the horror that everyone else, (the bandits included,) were staring at. Alan was buried deep beneath a giant safe. His hands lying flat out.

"ALAN!" BrenRome screamed running over to him, "NOOOOOOO!"

He took his older brothers hand and began crying hardly. He looked up and then noticed something; there was a man, around 49 or so, with thinning brown hair, and yellow hypnotic eyes, laughing on one of the rooftops. He then looked down and must've noticed BrenRome because he then left in a flash.

...

PRESENT DAY:

BrenRome groaned hardly as he tried to ignore the constant knocking a his door.

"Go away..." He moaned, "I'm trying to sleep...I already paid your damn bills."

The knocking did not stop, so he was forced to endure the pain of being woken up earlier than he should've.

"Okay..." He groaned, "Just give me a second..."

He quickly disposed of his pjamas, and slipped on some clean underwear and socks, a pair of blue jeans, and a Ghostbusters Logo T-Shirt. The knocking continued as he approached the front door.

"Okay!" He called, thrusting it open, only to see his superior.

"Commissioner Denzel." He said, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"I came here to talk to you." She explained, "May I come in?"

"Of course," BrenRome answered, being more hospital, for obvious reasons.

Commissioner Denzel was a woman of around age 22, so she knew that it wasn't BrenRome's fault that the place wasn't in the neatest condition. Ever since BrenRome's older brother, Alan, died in an accident years ago by an unspecified cartoon character, BrenRome had lived a life dedicated to solving legit hard cases outside of cartoons. He had thwarted all the drug crime lords in LA, but still grieved for his fallen brother. BrenRome spent late nights drinking hard and smoking as well. That was a fact she learned from watching him around the police station every day.

"Can I get you something?" BrenRome asked, heading to his refrigerator, "Beer? Soda?"

"A Diet Coke would be nice." Commissioner Denzel answered.

BrenRome looked through the cabinet and pulled out a Diet Coke Can and a bottle of Rolling Rock. He handed the Coke to the Commissioner, as she took a seat on his couch, and he took a seat on the armchair across from her.

"So whattaya want to talk to me about?" He asked, sipping his Rolling Rock.

"About your next case," She said, ready to see how he'd take it, "It involves...cartoons."

BrenRome stopped drinking his Rolling Rock and looked at her suspiciously.

"Cartoons?" He asked, making sure he heard her correctly.

"Yes." Denzel nodded, "You do realize the Mayor was murdered last night, don't you?"

"What?" He asked, now interested, "When?"

"Around 11:45 PM last night," She explained, "He was found with a butcher knife buried deep into his back. We found that the fingerprints on the knife matched three cartoon boys."

She took out three photographs and passed them over to BrenRome so he could see, each photo featured one of three funny-looking boys. One was a tall boy with a green jacket and red and white striped T-Shirt with thinning hair. Standing to his right was a short boy, with three pieces of hair, wearing a yellow T-Shirt with a red stripe. Finally, standing to his left was a boy in an orange shirt wearing what seemed to be a sock for a head.

"And you are quickly to assume that these assholes are the murderers because...?" BrenRome asked, as soon as he had a good look at them.

"We figure it's in retribution for their show being canceled exactly two years ago." Denzel answered, taking the photos back, and having another sip of her Coke, "But we don't have any solid evidence of this, nor anything else to prove it was really them. That's why we need you to..."

"No." BrenRome answered, flatly, "No. No. No. I am NOT. Doing this. You know perfectly damn well that I have a grudge against cartoons ever since..."

"They killed your brother?" A new person asked, walking in, "Yes, Mr. BrenRome I know. We all know that sad story."

BrenRome gasped at the man who had just stepped in. He was in his late 40's, and has chestnut brown hair. He was dressed in a black business suit and slacks, and also wore black shades and a black fedora.

"Mr. Bad?" BrenRome announced, "What are YOU doing here?"

"Well," He said, mockingly, "I know that you drank yourself to bed early last night, so I'll be easy on you and tell you the news; following Mayor Lilly's death, everything he owned, including Fanfictionia, now belongs to me."

BrenRome knew that Mr. Bad was a real political player. He had even been offered a seat in the Democratic Party for President, but turned it down. That's how moral everyone said he was. But to BrenRome, Mr. Bad would always be a fucking liar. Plain and simple.

"But enough of that," Mr. Bad continued, "On to my point; you are going to prove that those three men are guilty, OR, I will use my authority to suspend your detective's license...PERMENATLY!"

The rush of emotions flowing through BrenRome almost caused him to break down and start talking in gibberish in front of his two guests. He was mad, angry, confused, and sad at the same time. Being a detective was the only thing that kept him going. After Alan died, BrenRome had used his detective's work, as one way for covering his sadness.

He had no choice.

"Alright." He groaned, "I'll do your stinking case for you. But let me make one thing clear: YOU'RE not the one calling the shot's, Bad. You want to get them exposed, you let me do it MY way, MY resources."

Mr. Bad just sneered at the 18-year old detective.

"Very well, BrenRome." He growled, through his teeth, "You can have it your way."

With that, he left the apartment, leaving the two occupants alone.