Tom X Jerry

Remastered* Hunters

Notes: The original was last updated October 14, 2016. This was the second least popular out of all these one shots. I wrote it as I noticed my version of the characters was slowly becoming too far from the original. It was also meant as a slight parody, as I'd never written with toon physics before. This fic is not the place the place to have toon physics though. The changes made are fewer words like this, spelling errors, adding descriptions, trying to make Tom and Jerry talk less, focus more on Butch's feelings and quality changes overall. This fic is Butch centric, meaning it's more about how Butch feels about Tom and Jerry's odd relationship than about Tom and Jerry themselves. My version of Butch is he is a fair weather friend who isn't exactly loyal or nice to anyone. This said, he is Tom's second closest friend, and Tom is willing to hang out with him, despite the rivalry and backstabbing. Butch from the Tom and Jerry show (2014) is the version of Butch is the closest to how I think of him. The video linked to the original was one of the few human Tom and Jerry things on YouTube at the time. I also changed the order, if you noticed, so this isn't the only original Tom and Jerry fiction between all the Human! Au ones. 

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The old alley way was familiar in an odd sort of way. Butch had long sensed memorized the specific chips in the bricks, and the way the one on the third brick to his left vaguely looked like Spike. There was a couch that had been left out for years, it's deep purple coloring slowly draining away from it. Moldy and with a few springs loose, it was still the most comfortable place in the alley, and Butch liked the familiarity of his seat on it. There was a house with a window that faced the alley, for some weird design reason. There was an old, dusty cat sculpture with one ear broke off that held a sign that said "Welcome!" that looked out from the window. Butch didn't know what laid beyond that, as the curtains were always drawn and closed.

He turned his attention to the slug. The slug had begun its journey down the alleyway to one of its overflowing trash bins. It was almost to its prize, a pathetic, limp lettuce leaf. Butch boredly kicked the lettuce further, and the slug wiggled its antennae in a distraught fashion. It had been over an hour. An hour! Tom was meant to meet him here, and they were going to hit up "the cat's fancy" which was the hippest cat bar in town. Toodles had a pedicure planned, Doll had declared the place too low brow for her, and Meathead said he had a marble tournament to win. This left only Tom, and that house cat was an hour late! A few minutes was forgivable, an hour was not.

Tom's house wasn't far, just over the hill and around the bend which made it more irritating. It was a mere 5 minutes. Tom could have walked to Butch, forgotten something and ran back to his house, go get a coffee from a coffee shop and still have taken less than a half hour.

Flat garden stones lead a trail to the deceptively intact front door. Making his way to the front window to peer inside, Butch saw the house practically rattle from whatever war-zone was going on in there. Sure enough, the inside was completely trashed. Two different sized sets of paw prints left an ashy trail that vanished the further they were from the fireplace. The fire wood was broken neatly in half and scattered throughout the living room. The couch was in one piece; the armchair was not. What Butch recognized as what used to be the fridge door was leaned against the stairs, as though it was used as a slide. Predictable chaos. It's one thing to forget to get a drink with your homies, it's another to forget because you were chasing the same mouse you'd been chasing for basically a century.

Butch approached the front door at the same time the chaotic rattling did. A Banana Creme pie hit his face the second he opened the door. He wiped away as much as he could with one paw, enough to see two sets of panicked faces looking at him. Tom looked at the grandfather clock, then looked at him with a sheepish, guilty smile. Jerry darted to his mouse hole, then peeked out in a cautious curiosity. For Tom's sake, Butch hoped Jerry threw that pie. Otherwise, Tom was going to have a worse time than Butch was already going to give him.