Note: This is a sequel to the PPG episode "A Very Special Blossom," in which Blossom succumbs to the temptation to steal a rare $2000 set of golf clubs to give to the Professor for Father's Day, then follows that up by trying to pin the blame on Mojo, and finally has to be chased and caught by her sisters before she confesses. At the end of the episode she is sentenced to community service and regarded with disgust by her sisters. Even the narrator says, "And so the day is saved, thanks to the Powerpuff Girls! -- well, two of them at least." Then prison bars slam down in front of a penitent-looking Blossom. So ends the episode.
For me it left a few unanswered questions. Just how does leader Blossom deal with this unprecedented fall from grace? How does she redeem herself and move on? Can things ever be the same again?
And wouldn't the bad guys try to capitalize on her failing?
Blossom removed her orange hard hat, stepped out of the orange prison coveralls she had worn over her dress, and hung them on two hooks in the wall at the police office. Checking out with the uniformed man at the desk, she glanced back at them. She'd become well acquainted with these items over the two hundred hours of her community service. The coveralls were frayed at the cuffs and had smudges at the chest and on both knees, and the hat was battered enough to have seen years of use. Someone had marked the initials RLM on the inside of the hat, and she wondered who that was -- some crook we caught, maybe, back in the old days before The Disgrace?
The old days -- she recalled them now as one remembers a fond dream. When every citizen from the Mayor to Talking Dog held her in high esteem, and no one would ever have conceived of her violating their trust. When she had been the Savior Of The City along with her sisters, delivering it from every threat imaginable, and faces lit up when she flew overhead. People cheered, the papers proclaimed "Powerpuffs Save The Day!" and everyone equated the name "Blossom" with everything good, noble and virtuous.
It seemed amazing now. Was there ever really such a time?
The bored-looking officer behind the desk clicked his fingers over a computer keyboard. A sheet of paper buzzed from a dot-matrix printer; he tore it off and thumped a stamp on the bottom. "Congratulations, that's the last of your community service. You're free to go."
He didn't even look at me, Blossom thought. I'm just another orange coverall to him.
Or maybe he didn't want her to see his disgust...
She mumbled "Thanks" and shuffled out the door, looking at the ground. She had done a lot of looking down since The Disgrace, and in this way learned just how often people leave dimes, quarters, and even paper money on the sidewalk. Once she'd come across a twenty dollar bill but hurried past it, not daring to touch it; one theft was enough.
Quietly she lifted herself off the ground. After her first day of community service, she had walked all the way home, even though the Professor had dropped her off and offered to pick her up. She did not want to use the dazzling abilities for which she was known; she felt like she no longer had the right to use them. But after seeing the looks from people as she slunk by, she went back to flying, and much higher than usual.
Without a sound she alighted on her front porch and opened the door.
Blossom flinched as if slapped in the face.
The Professor stood beaming by the stairs, and her sisters were dancing around a fine three-layer cake that crowned the coffee table; pink icing dotted with little red candy hearts, and WE LOVE YOU BLOSSOM! squiggled in white icing across the top.
A blue flash, a green flash, and her sisters were hugging her, smiling mightily, crushing her between them as if trying to squeeze a grin out of her too.
"Welcome home, honey!" The Professor spoke too loudly and too jovially. "We wanted to celebrate the completion of your community service. You're a free girl!"
"Look! I drew you a picture!" Bubbles whipped a crayon drawing out of nowhere and held it up: a carefully-scrawled pink rendering of Blossom, with black sticks for arms and legs, and a face like a delirious rag doll.
"And look at this!" Buttercup waved a pair of red and blue toy race cars. "Vroooom! You'll get tons of fun out of these!" Then she leaned closer and whispered, "Aren't these a lot better than some dumb old picture?"
"Hey!" Bubbles snapped.
"Now, girls." The Professor laughed. "This is a happy day, a day to celebrate our dear Blossom -- "
He stopped. Dear Blossom had whisked up the stairs, leaving everyone staring after her.