Chapter 7: Get Them Back Inside!
Ding.
The third-floor elevator doors slid open.
Rango and Ted cautiously poked their heads out, scanning the hallway for threats.
After confirming there were no escaped animal exhibits wandering around, both breathed a sigh of relief and tiptoed quietly toward the Hall of African Mammals.
The sounds emanating from within grew louder with each step.
Lion roars, elephant trumpets, monkey screeches, bird calls...
It wove together into a wild symphony, as if they'd been transported to the Serengeti itself.
As they approached the entrance, Rango pressed himself against the wall and carefully edged toward the doorway.
Just as he'd feared, the large iron security gate stood wide open—easily wide enough for two African elephants to walk through side-by-side.
"Damn it! What the hell were the day shift guards doing?" Rango muttered.
He peered through the gap into the exhibition hall. Surprisingly, the scene inside wasn't chaotic at all—nothing like the warzone downstairs.
By the artificial watering hole, several African elephants playfully sprayed water with their trunks. A pride of lions lounged together peacefully, the lionesses grooming each other while the male surveyed his domain. Nearby, rhinos and hippos meandered leisurely, occasionally shaking off the small birds perched on their backs. In the corner, a Bengal tiger lay in the shade of a fabricated acacia tree, watching a giraffe pass by with mild interest.
Despite dozens of different species all sharing the same space, there was no fighting, no territorial disputes. They all seemed content simply being alive again.
After witnessing this peaceful scene, Ted couldn't help but compare it to the historical figures downstairs who were currently trying to murder each other with period-appropriate weapons.
"You know... animals might actually be more civilized than humans," Ted observed.
"Conflict drives progress," Rango replied absently, still studying the layout. Then he turned to Ted with a meaningful look. "Okay, listen. I've got a plan. You go in there and distract them, then I'll close the gate while they're focused on you."
"What?!"
Ted's voice went up an octave. "Why didn't you mention this plan BEFORE we came up here?! That tiger's paw is bigger than my entire body! I don't want to be a chew toy!"
"You're a bear! Haven't you heard the old saying? 'A bear can take on a mountain lion no problem!'"
"But I'm a TEDDY bear!" Ted pressed his paw against his chest, triggering the voice box inside.
"I LOVE YOU~" chirped a cute child's voice.
"See?! Besides this little speaker, my entire body is stuffing! I'm not exactly built for combat!"
Rango nodded reluctantly. The plan was looking less viable by the second.
Just as he was considering whether to throw Rexy's bone in to create a distraction, Ted glanced one more time into the exhibition hall, then straightened his shoulders and walked out into the open.
Before Rango could stop him, Ted had strode directly to the entrance, grabbed the heavy iron gate with both paws, and pulled it closed with surprising strength for something made of fabric and cotton.
The gate clanged shut.
Ted dusted off his paws, turned back to the stunned Rango, and said smugly, "See? I told you. Animals aren't as aggressive as humans. They didn't even look at me."
Looking at the little bear's proud expression, Rango couldn't help but laugh. "So... you're not claiming to be 'just a toy' anymore, huh?"
Ted shrugged. "I contain multitudes."
Unlike the surprisingly peaceful animal hall, the historical figure exhibits on the first and second floors were complete bedlam.
As soon as Rango and Ted reached the second floor, they encountered people dressed in clothing from wildly different eras wandering the corridors in confusion.
Compared to the first floor's chaos, the second floor was slightly more orderly. Most of the exhibits here were famous intellectuals, scientists, and cultural figures—they weren't actively trying to kill each other, at least.
"Excuse me?"
Rango approached the nearest figure—a man with an elaborate white powdered wig, dressed in 18th-century court attire complete with silk stockings and buckled shoes. Definitely aristocracy.
The man was peering intently around the museum architecture, clearly studying something.
"Are you looking for something?" Rango asked.
The man glanced at him, then declared proudly, "After thorough observation, I've discovered this building contains a remarkable secret. If one could reach the roof of this structure, one could harness an extraordinary source of power!"
"Oh?" Rango's interest piqued. This wasn't something he remembered from the movie. "What kind of power?"
"The highest form of energy available!"
"Which is...?"
"Gravitational potential energy, of course!"
Rango looked down at the man's nameplate.
Isaac Newton - Father of Classical Mechanics
Of course. Should've seen that coming.
"Wait, what are you—unhand me!"
Ignoring Newton's protests, Rango simply scooped the physicist up, tucked him under one arm, and carried him back to his display case, depositing him inside and closing the glass door.
He then surveyed the other figures wandering the hall. Oddly enough, they'd initially seemed panicked when they first came to life, but upon seeing his security uniform, they'd visibly relaxed. Apparently, the three old guards had been managing this nightly chaos for a while.
So for the next twenty minutes, Rango went from exhibit to exhibit, politely but firmly returning each historical figure to their proper case.
"Don't worry, Mr. Lincoln, your hat is right here. No, I don't know anything about a theater. Just rest easy."
"Of course you're a brilliant mystery writer, Mr. Poe! Far ahead of your time. Just step right back into your exhibit, please."
"Absolutely, Mr. Tesla. We all know Edison was a ruthless businessman who took credit for other people's work. Now, back in your case."
"Yes, ma'am, I completely agree—women's suffrage was long overdue. No arguments here, Susan B. Anthony. Just need you back in your display."
Using a combination of flattery, agreement, and gentle insistence, he successfully locked away most of the second floor's historical figures, who'd apparently been having some kind of impromptu intellectual salon.
"No need to rush, young man. I can manage."
When Rango reached the last few exhibits, a distinguished-looking older gentleman with a full white beard and weathered features nodded at him, then calmly walked into his own display case and closed the glass door himself.
Rango checked the nameplate and broke into a genuine smile.
He straightened up and gave a respectful nod. "Mr. Hemingway. True class, sir. You really were the real deal."
Hemingway smiled and tipped an imaginary hat before settling into his frozen pose.
Rango continued down the line, gently herding the remaining figures back to their exhibits.
However, when he approached the final figure—an impeccably dressed gentleman in a sharp 1960s suit who carried himself with quiet dignity—the man suddenly spoke in measured tones.
"Don't you want to know who I am, young man?"
Rango glanced at the nameplate, shook his head, and gestured toward the open case. "I know who you are, sir. Now if you'd please—"
"I had a dream," the man said with a slight smile, striking a contemplative pose.
Rango sighed. "Dr. King, with all due respect, I've got about six more floors of chaos to deal with. Could you please just—"
"I had a dream that one night, a young security guard would show proper respect to all people, regardless of—"
"Into the case. Now. Please."
Dr. King chuckled and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, young man. You've got work to do. But remember—the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward order."
"I'll keep that in mind, sir," Rango said, gently closing the display case. "Thank you."
As he locked the final second-floor exhibit, Ted waddled up beside him.
"How's it going?" the bear asked.
"Second floor's secure. How many more to go?"
"First floor's still a mess. Plus, I'm pretty sure I saw Attila the Hun riding a horse through the gem exhibit."
Rango checked his watch. "We've got four hours until sunrise. That's when everything freezes again."
"Four hours to wrangle every exhibit in the entire museum?"
"Yep."
"We're gonna need help."
Rango thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "The dioramas. Jedediah and Octavian."
"The tiny cowboy and the Roman general?"
"If we can get them to help coordinate their people, we can cover way more ground."
Ted considered this. "That's... actually not a terrible idea."
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm not surprised. I'm just acknowledging that sometimes you have good ideas AND terrible ideas in the same night."
"The terrible idea being...?"
"Volunteering to work the night shift at a museum where everything comes to life and tries to kill you."
Rango grinned. "Where's your sense of adventure, Ted?"
"I left it in Africa, where at least the things trying to kill us were being PAID to do it."
Despite the grumbling, Ted followed as Rango headed back downstairs toward the miniature dioramas.
From somewhere below, they could hear the sounds of clashing swords and Rexy's happy footsteps as she presumably played fetch with herself.
Just another night at the museum.
Though technically, it was still Rango's first night.
"Hey, Rango?"
"Yeah?"
"After we get this all sorted... we're getting hazard pay, right?"
"Ted, we're getting twenty bucks an hour to wrangle living history exhibits. I'm pretty sure 'hazard' is included in the base rate."
"That's what I was afraid of."
They descended the stairs toward the chaos below, ready for round two.
Four hours until sunrise.
Four hours to restore order to the entire American Museum of Natural History.
How hard could it be?
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