Fred the Freaky Barber

Author's note: This may be my first un-helped, un-necessary, one-shot. (Although, when I say un-helped, I very well may be lying) I'm rather depressed at the moment, but I won't let that stop me from writing something enjoyable. I was rather upset by the lack of fair Freaky Fred stories, so here we go!

Disclaimer: I own not the Dog or Courage that frolics so on Cartoon telly, nor do I own the Asylums, or much of anything else...

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Merging of Asylums

On a dark fall night, when all the trees have lost their leaves, and stretched their fingers up to the heavens, as though they're in some sort of horrible agony begged for release. And it was a day such as this that this tale did unfold, a day such as this when two asylums merged.

There they were! The circus clowns, in scores of ten and more, lion tamers with voice like roars, there were men like monkeys and woman like men, and obscenely obese and tall. And their hair, O, their hair!

The clusters of clowns, the ferocity of their lion-like manes, furry and wiry, unclean and genial! It was just like being at the circus, only they were at my front door. Ah, what joyous of occupations, if only I could be a little...naaaauughtyy.

From my window, I could see them. Confused, but stopped and stayed them, as though where planning to rest in this humble abode. Oh! I could only hope so, it would give me a chance to be...naaauuughtyyy.

A bell from above rang loudly, causing Fred to look very confused. It was way past luncheon, and far too early for dinner, so why would they be calling them? His wonderfully padded room door popped open. Fred lifted himself to his feet, something he had become a master of. You have a lot of free time; when you're all locked up like this, you find you become very good at odd things, like lifting yourself up without use of your arms.

Fred was a tall man, with straw coloured hair that sat wildly top his head, amazingly green eyes, and thin limbs, two of which were tied up in a strait-jacket. This was the home for freaky barbers, this was Fred's Home.

Hello, dear friends, remember me? My name is Fred, I say, I said, my name is Fred, dearest friends, and the words you hear are from inside my head...

Fred was taken aback, when he noticed the rest of the people living in this charming home, has also meandered out. With a smile wide, he rolled his eyes. They were all bell trained now! Or maybe they all were just curious...like he was.

This line of strait-jacket barbers, each with their own little hang-ups, filed down the metal stairs, into the main foyer, where the 'Doctors' were waiting. There they were, in their common doctor gear, holding bats, and wearing plastic gloves, as doctors tend to do.

He tired to take a gander on what was going on ahead of him, but the man in front of him was dreadfully tall, and the people would just disappear for good. They wouldn't come back, which didn't bode with him at all well. He really didn't want to disappear today; it was pudding Friday, after all.

Smiling still, ever curious, Fred moved down the way, until it was his turn. He walked through the narrow door way, after they called his name.

"Yes, Gentlemen?" he asked lightly, looking around curiosity, but his manners only got him pinned down to the table and de-strait-jacketed, much to his surprise. He liked being able to move his arms again and breathe freely. Fred was pushed along roughly, until he found himself on the back stairs that lead to the second floor, where they all were kept, very confused.

What had just happened? Oh, well, he shrugged his shoulders and gave a little sigh, heading back up to his room. He took his time, only speeding up the blue and magenta painted hallway when he heard the next person start up them.

I have a tale I need to tell, and tell I will, and tell it well...

He made his way into his hall, he knew the place like the back of his hand, and speaking of which...Fred felt around in his pocket of his green pants, and pulled out an electric razor, its holding part red, and button green. He pressed the button and listened to its marvellous sound! Its whirling blades! But, with nothing to shave, he turned it off and put it away.

Oh, just how I came to be incarcerated in this hell, but I suppose I have me to blame, for I was...very naaauuughtyyy.

Lost in his own thought, his thin arms behind his back, he wondered along the corridor, when he hit something soft. Whatever he had bumped into apparently wasn't paying any attention, either, because it went stumbling backwards.

Now, normally, few things quell the thoughts in me that swell, and swell. But, I did spy a Southern Bell, whose hair did upon me fell...to be a little naaauuughtyyyy.

That 'Southern Bell' had an amazing mess of hair. It was a sticky brown, and looked as though Rasta fairies had settled down on her head, and she must have done some furious fighting back. Her hair shot out from her skull, like some sort of sun flower, or lion, or a dandelion...um, moving on.

"Oh, my hat!" she said in a sweet southern voice, looking around frantically for it. It had fallen behind her when she had bumped into Fred. She picked it up, capped her head, and turned her large blue eyes to our star, Fred. For all descriptive purposes, she was shaped like a shapely eight, and dressed in a purple suit.

Her hair was once beautiful, I could tell, and in me it did compel, that I'd be a little...naaaauughtyy.

"I reckon you are real," she said, looking at Fred with those big round eyes of hers; she tilted her purple hat, as though she wasn't sure what angle it should be on top of her brown mound of hair.

She looked at me so beseechingly, her eyes a worry, and questioningly. No doubt the next words that would come out of her mouth would be: Oh, Fred, oh, Fred, help me, please, although you look ever so...naaaaauuuughtyyy.

Fred gave her a crooked yellow toothed smile that spread from side to side like a vortex of insanity. He gripped her by her shoulders round, pulling her closer towards him. Her demeanour was a tad unsure, as though she had wandered in the building, without an inkling of what she was doing, and all for the better, for the better for Fred.

"Come along, come along," he told her kindly. His grin stretched to its maximum length; she gave him a frighten look, that he was all to accustomed to see, but it did not prevent him from walking her along the narrow sea-green hall towards his room.

"Well, then," she started, furrowing her brow, "would'ja kindly tell me where I should be? They let us in here, but-" she stopped speaking, as he stopped in front of the door to his small padded room.

"Here," Fred informed her firmly but kindly, opening wide the door that separated them and the room. Now, holding both her shoulders with his fine hands, he pushed her forward. Once in, he shut the door behind him, leering out his small glass window, just to be sure no one was there.