Another sunny morning in Toontown, and Jessica Rabbit has just sent her beloved husband hopping off to the studio, laughing like a lunatic with his favorite Ren & Stimpy lunch pail and a cloud of singing hummingbirds, leaving her alone for the day. Well, not "alone" alone. Nobody is ever really alone in Toontown. As she saunters back to the living room, she is followed by countless pairs of little googly eyes. The teapot, the floor lamp, the telephone, the hat rack... almost everything has a life of its own in this neighborhood.
"You're in luck, boys," she announces. "It's cleaning day!"
A whisper of snickers and titters arises from every corner, and some of the smaller appliances hop up and down. "Goody-goody-goody," mutters the easy chair in a deep bass. They all love it when Jessica handles them.
She ties her hair up and changes into a pair of cut-off jeans with a red-and-white checkered halter top. (The stiletto heels stay on, of course.) "Rawr-rawrr," growls the flower pot as she struts back into the room. The flower curls its two leaves into its face and whistles.
Jessica opens the hall closet and wheels out the Suck-O-Lux vacuum cleaner. Its bleary eyes slowly open and dust flies off as it wheezes sleepily. Trundling down the hall, it suddenly realizes it's been released from the closet and snaps awake, its eyes bulging wide. It begins to wiggle with excitement. It knows who's dragging it by the hose, and it has a great view from down there on the floor.
Back in the living room, Jessica bends down and flips the switch. The Suck-O-Lux almost forgets to activate as it gazes dreamily up at her. With a sudden notion that it's been turned on (pun intended), the little canister scowls furiously and spins its tiny motor, hoping to impress its mistress.
"Good boy," she says, and pats it gently. "VVmmm, VVmmm!" it replies.
The brave little vacuum cleaner is only a short gray can, lying on it side, with four tiny, useless wheels and a pair of eyes on one end, just above its hose. It has no nose or mouth, as so many of the other household items inexplicably possess. It can only express itself by wiggling ineffectually and hooting out of the large nozzle at the end of its hose. It spends most of its time in the dark closet, wondering what all the noise and laughter is about, wishing it could be out there.
Jessica pulls the little guy along, sweeping its nozzle back and forth across the area rug, and it chugs away happily. Every eye in the room follows closely, anticipating their various turns.
THEN (here it comes), Jessica knocks a magazine off the coffee table.
"Oh, poo," she says, and bends over to pick it up.
And in a moment of carelessness: FOONT! There goes her top!
A cacophony of hoots and jeers explodes from everywhere. "AOOOOOGA! AOOOOOGA!" "DING-DING-DING-DING!" "CUCKOO! CUCKOO!"
"Oh! My!" Jessica gasps, and she brings up her arms to cover her freely swinging breasts, not stopping to think how she is still holding the nozzle.
Sssshhhhwa-THUNK!
