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Cal found himself grinning faintly as the show's overly-cheery end theme died, as if he was he knew something the TV didn't--or maybe he was just happy that he didn't have to hear that awful music anymore. He knew that more bad music would be immediately forthcoming, because all of these pretty, moving pictures seemed to require such terrible noises...but it seemed that someone--or something--had thrown a small, brightly-colored wrench into his routine. Was this a new set of bad-music-and-pretty-color? He could almost make out actual images...the show wasn't broken, was it? Cal frowned; what could he do?

Oh, he knew! He could do the same thing Crazy Lady did whenever something broke, only with less funny words--Cal immediately got up, toddled over to the TV, and started gently smacking the screen with both palms.

A tentative kind of alarm swept through Cal as first one hand and then the other were absorbed into the screen. Had he broken it? He hadn't meant to, and now he was stuck--and quickly getting stuck-er! His heels dug into the floor as he tried to pull his hands out, and he gasped as that only caused the screen to suck him in faster. Cal squeezed his eyes shut as the screen absorbed him, opening them cautiously after a moment. The hues were pure here, so bold, and...squishy? He moved his hands around--this inside-the-screen place felt funny, like jelly that wasn't sticky. More than that, it felt comforting, safe. Cal smiled, curiously reaching out to play with this strange new substance.

"Lunchtime, Rainbow Brat, time to turn the TV off," Inle's voice faded in as she padded barefoot into the room. That it was the only sound in the room instead of competition to the TV didn't worry her too much--that Cal didn't seem to be in the room did. She looked around, sighed and frowned as she spotted neither hide nor hair of the generally easy-to-spot toddler before shrugging and picking up the remote. He's got to be somewhere in the house, she figured, and there really was no sense in leaving the TV on if no one was going to be watching it, right? Inle pointed the remote towards the television--and nearly dropped it.

Was that...Calumet sitting inside the TV? Smiling like being on the wrong side of the screen was right? ...Waving? Inle blinked, hesitantly waving back.

As Inle slowly set down the remote and made her way towards the TV, Cal's smile fell. There was something in his head, he could feel it! It felt funny--funny bad, not funny haha, and he was old enough to know the difference. It was saying things he could almost understand, but it was in his head and he wanted it out now! He didn't notice Inle seating herself before the television in his ever-increasing distress until she knocked on the screen.

"Hey," she said, sounding very rational and familiar and far away, "stop that."

What was HE supposed to do? He didn't mind being stuck in the TV as much as he minded the voice in his head. The voice knew that, too, and that was a little creepy--and it was telling Cal how it could all stop, all end, that he could do it...except he couldn't! He couldn't TELL Inle how to make it all go away, and why was that voice being so mean, anyway? Frustrated, he smacked the screen--just as he did earlier, only from the other side--and left behind a pair of perfect, brightly-colored handprints.

Oh. Well, that might work.

Inle glanced at the handprint in between bouts of searching for a way to safely pry the screen off the television. It wasn't going well, and it rendered her oblivious to Calumet's internal struggle--she likely wouldn't have known what to do with Cal's distress even if she HAD been paying attention to it.

Calumet, on the other hand, was trying to reason with the voices in his head. This was no time for a movie, but he'd gladly put one on if only they'd leave him alone! Please? He'd--oh. They didn't want to WATCH a movie--they wanted to BE the movie. He could relate, a little; sometimes he wished he was one of the cartoon characters he so admired. Now, how to tell Inle what they wanted...? An idea slowly came to mind, hindered as it was by lingering fear, and he smacked the screen again to get Inle's attention.

"What is it, Cal? Just hold on, I'll...figure something out, ok?" As she spoke, Calumet drew rather crude shapes in bright colors on the screen--a box with two circles in it, another box with one circle in it, a third box surrounding an underscored triangle. What was he--"Cal, once we get you out of there, you can watch any movie you want, alright? I don't think we should put one on with you, ya know...in the TV."

That wasn't what Calumet wanted to hear! He pounded on the screen almost angrily, something that was practically foreign to the obliviously happy child, and pointed insistently at his pictures, one at a time.

"Video tape." Cal nodded eagerly, beaming and pointing at the next object. "Button...stop?" Headshake. "Uh, play? No...record?" Another nod and an eager clap. "Tape, tape," Inle muttered, getting up and looking around, "we've got to have a blank tape around here somewhere, with as much as you watch TV--oh, here, this should do!" she said, eagerly snatching a tape bearing an illegible label off the coffee table before returning once more to the television.

"So what am I supposed to record?" Inle asked, turning on the VCR. Cal tapped his forehead with a finger. "Your head?" A pause, a hesitant nod. "Well...I hope this works. For your sake, and all." Her tone was neutral, but the grunny's pinned ears belied her own worry. She stuck the tape in, pressed record...

...and Cal, his drawings, and the swirling colors disappeared, leaving behind a black screen. Inle's jaw dropped, and she immediately fumbled for the "eject button."

Inle scooted backwards until she hit the coffee table and watched, wide-eyed, as back episodes of Pokemon became light and form and, eventually, color. Calumet stood before her, considerably taller and looking somewhat proud of himself. Even grown, it was still so obviously him--his strange eyes, now clearer with intelligence, his bright-and-dark hair, now longer and shaggier, his tattoos, now more jagged and widespread.

He slowly put the remote down on the table and sat beside his still-stunned guardian, that smile still flirting around his lips. "You..." Inle said, pointing a finger at him, "you are so, so grounded. No TV for like, a week, until we get that thing checked out for aliens or something, and--" she was abruptly cut off as Cal launched himself at her, enfolding her in a hard hug. She was dismayed to find that he was already as big as she was and awkwardly patted his back. "Yeah. Way to go, kid, or...something."