*The midnight show at Hollywood's infamous Ink and Paint Club, a Toon-run establishment catering to human clientele, had just ended. Its dimly lit corridors were echoing with the murmurs of departing patrons, still buzzing from Jessica Rabbit's sultry rendition of 'Why Don't You Do Right?'. Backstage, the air carried the faint tang of bootleg whiskey and greasepaint, clinging to haphazardly stacked instrument cases and vaudeville props. As penguin stagehands waddled past rolling spotlights, the ...