It's not like he didn't see it coming. Everyone did. With his reintroduction into the animated realm of crime and punishment, of course Eddie Valiant was destined to work with
(or for, rather) Roger Rabbit again.
Some might call them a 'buddy-cop' duo. Others saw 'screwball partners' more fitting. Eddie scowled at both.
As his name gained its former notoriety on the streets of Toontown, the tabloids eventually got around to doing some spreads on the big Doom case.
Most were poor recaps of the human newspapers, but all were fairly flattering, nonetheless.
Save three major pubs that referred to Eddie as the new Dick Tracy.
In its own right, that would be a compliment. Quite a big one, for Eddie.
Except for the fact that each of these three-page spreads pictured his chubby face pasted over Tracy's body. The real kicker was that, right next to Eddie's ridiculous, disfigured drawing, Roger's own face sat over the bodies of (respectively) Pat Patton, Junior Tracy, and Tess Trueheart.
Tracy himself was outraged, Tess too. But that paled in comparison to Eddie's own rage. Roger bought every different issue he could and kept them in a drawer along with other, related newspaper clippings.
Despite everything, Eddie Valiant could not truthfully deny that he did, indeed, like Roger Rabbit. He untruthfully denied it all the time, but as time happened to wear on, his vocal refutes became less and less.
Eddie would be first to complain about Roger, but he would also be the first to stick up for the goofy rabbit.
But when was all said and done, he was still a bit of a grump. His humor had certainly taken a turn for the better, but only in the sort of straight-man fashion that it could with Roger as a catalyst. He always seemed to be the foil to any slapstick wackiness that wandered into his office (typically this wackiness sported two rabbit ears), almost like he was a magnet. Every screwball comedian needed a straight man, and in that way, Eddie was the Sinatra to Roger's Lewis.
Years of drowning his wandering thoughts with a little bit of bourbon and a whole lot of gin had a lasting effect; the knit brows and caustic scowl were like bad habits. Well more like genetics, but Eddie wore them proudly all the same.
Likewise, Roger's tendency to attract murderous script writers, corrupt directors, vengeful costars, maybe even a stalker or an undercover kingpin here and there, had sort of irrevocably pinned Roger to Eddie's office door. Maybe those reasons, more so than Eddie's comedic magnetism.
Eddie had other cases, sure.
Toon cases, mainly. It was his specialty, after all.
But the fact of the matter was that Roger had supplied the last three months rent with his legal problems. As nice of a rabbit as Roger was, it's not like he wanted to.
The bust of Judge Doom opened up a whole new can of worms. Multiple cans. About seven to be exact. A lot simoleons were invested into the buying of offices, keeping people quiet, hired muscle.
And where there's money, there's usually mobsters. Crime bosses interested in the genocide of their own race was an odd find, but crime bosses interested in vast amounts of illegally laundered money weren't. Toontown kingpins weren't the brightest either. Roger's involvement, again, was more involuntary 'patsy' play than 'player' play, but the death threats were all the same.
After the debris settled a bit, the Toontown Telltale decided to paint Roger as an unsung hero, claiming:
'Everyone's favorite, lovable lagomorph inadvertently takes down cartoon big-bads of every sort'.
The exact headline was clipped to Eddie's cork-board, right below the picture of him, Teddy, and Dolores at Coney Island, and right above of him begrudgingly lifting a very pleased rabbit on his shoulders.
The comparisons to Dick Tracy and Pat/Junior/Tess turned into Nick and Nora Charles. Eddie had stopped being surprised by anything at that point, and Jessica got a kick out of seeing Roger done up in classic femme fatale drag. She kept the magazine in a drawer along with other, similarly compromising photos.
All in all, both Eddie and Roger had full schedules since Doom. Eddie had a nice, steady flow of income, a renewed status and respect amongst both human law enforcement and toon citizens, and best of all, he had Dolores back. That was certainly a nice perk.
Roger...well, Roger had a lot of stress. Something he wasn't used to. It was safe to say he wasn't having as great a time, but he couldn't really complain. The 'scandals' aside, he'd already had a decent job as Herman's second banana. As an A-list toon, Roger Rabbit was a household name; fame and money hadn't been a desire of Roger's in a long time. He had good friends, and Jessica, of course.
And yet, the news of his involvement had bolstered Roger's career higher than he could've ever dreamed. While ambition was never one of Roger's strong suits, laughter was, and there seemed to be a direct correlation between his own success as a performer and the raucous laughter of his audience. He was hesitant to take up all of the contract offers at first, but with a little help from Jessica and Eddie picking through stacks upon stacks of paperwork; he was soon swimming in solo comic deals, a plush toy line, a new cereal brand, and even an upcoming film.
Roger had been offered the leading role in Harvey. Universal Studio's rendition was originally going to star James Stewart as Elwood, but Henry Koster saw Roger's face in the Sunday paper and envisioned a version wherein the rabbit saw an invisible man, rather than the other way around.
Moreover, he wouldn't have to pay a toon leading role as much as a James Stewart leading role.
All in all, it had been a very eventful three years for Eddie, Roger, Jessica, and Dolores. And it was about to get a lot more busy.