Here it is, the possible final instalment of DJ: Origins! Thanks to all who reviewed, favourited, whatever. Enjoy the final piece of the puzzle.

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"Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think you'd stay dead forever." DJ whipped around, startled at the voice behind him, and came face to face with Flippy. The scary bastard who 'welcomed' him to Happy Tree Town by stabbing him in the fucking eye. Great guy, really. Nothing says 'I'm your friend' like a good ol' fashioned knife in the eye socket.

That was sarcasm, by the way.

"Are you here to kill me again?" DJ asked. Having experienced death once, it wasn't now on his to-do list.

"No. Not unless you piss me off." Flippy said, and sat on DJ's bed.

"Then what are you here for?" DJ asked, feeling particularly self-consious about the face that he had nothing but his underwear (red & white love heart boxers = lol.) on. Flippy didn't seem to mind though. Flippy sat on the edge of DJ's bed and looked at the floor. Several moments of silence passed, with neither knowing what to say. Until-

"You're not going to come on to me, are you?" DJ asked Flippy, leaning away as if he had an infectious disease.

"What? Oh, God no."

"Oh, thank fuck for that. No offence intended, but you're not my type."

"Same here. For a minute there I thought you were going to be one of those physco OCs who's obsessed with me."

The two laughed, and DJ grinned. "Since it's painfully obvious you're not here to ask about my love life, why don't you just spit it out so we can get it over with."

Flippy paused. "Well… When I blacked out yesterday, and well…"

"Killed me."

"Yeah, killed you, I flipped back. I had no recollection of… Uh…"

"Killing me."

"Killing you, yes, and when I passed my Evil self between consciousnesses, I couldn't help but notice that he looked… Different."

"Different how? New hair?"

"No… He looked thoughtful… Like he had to think…"

"Yeah, that's what 'thoughtful' means."

"Which is, weird, I guess. So my question to you, DJ… What happened? Evil must've been out for only a minute, yet… I don't know, it's just…"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"He's not in a talking mood."

DJ hesitated. Normally, under regular circumstances, if someone stabbed him in the fucking eyeball DJ would at least try his best to stay the fuck away from them. But regular circumstances stopped happening for him after the visit to the temple.

"Tell you what, Flippy. Meet me at my house later. I might have something for you."

Flippy nodded, and started to exit.

"You haven't got some spare pants on you would you?"

"Check the drawer, DJ." Flippy answered, and left. DJ checked the drawer, and found all the stuff he had on him when he died. His pants, shoes, knee pads, elbow pads, gloves and goggles all there. Except for his-

"My notebook? WHERE THE SODDING HELL'S MY NOTEBOOK?!?"

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"Where is it?!?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS MY SODDING NOTEBOOK?!?"

Flippy smirked, and held out DJ's notebook. "You meant this?" DJ made a grab for it, but Flippy jerked it out of his reach. "Unless you tell me exactly what I want to know, your little info pad is going straight in the oven."

DJ gave Flippy a death stare, and kicked the ground.

"Godamnit. Follow me."

DJ & Flippy walked up the path to DJ's mansion, and stopped when they got to the door.

"Turn around." DJ ordered. Flippy raised an eyebrow. "So I can enter the fucking code. Turn around."

Flippy turned, and whistled. He heard three beeps, then a ding sound, indicating that DJ had entered the correct code. Flippy turned to say something, but suddenly felt a sharp point stab his neck and he promptly blacked out.

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Flippy awoke later, dazed and confused. "Where am I?" He managed to say.

"Oh, thank fuck you're awake… I thought I gave you too much and accidentally killed you. Wouldn't that be sad?"

"DJ… Is that you?"

"No, it's the sodding tooth fairy. Stay still."

"Wha- Ow!" Flippy yelled as he felt a needle slide into his neck.

"This is for your own good, Flippy."

Flippy attempted to get up, but found he couldn't. He looked down at himself, and saw he was tied down with-

"Duct tape?"

"It was either that or make you paralysed, and this one's reversible. Which would you prefer?"

"I'd prefer to be untied."

"Sorry, that's not an option. This might sting a bit."

"Wait, wha-" Flippy started, then screamed in pain.

"Okay, that was lie. It fucking hurts."

"What are you doing to me?" Flippy asked, his face grimacing in pain.

"Only what I have to. Relax, I'll untie you in a second."

The duct tape suddenly ripped off, releasing Flippy. Flippy jumped up, but his moves were un-coordinated and he couldn't move very fast.

"What did you do to me?"

"Well, Flippy, first I injected you with a heavy sedative, knocking you out so you wouldn't struggle. Then I dragged you here and tied you down with duct tape. Then I read some Stephen King novels while I waited for you to regain consciousness. Just then I injected you with a light tranquilliser, not enough to make you sleep, but enough to make you extremely groggy."

Flippy moaned, and vomited.

"Damn. Maybe I did use too much."

Flippy gasped, and let out a small glob of spit. "… Why?"

"So I can answer your questions, Flippy."

DJ sat down on a couch, and leafed through his notepad. Flippy dragged himself to another chair, and looked around. A mostly bare room. No pictures on the wall, no letters from family. If Flippy had to guess, he'd say DJ doesn't care about his family.

"I know the place is kinda empty for now, but I'm still waiting for the movers." DJ said, picking up a bottle of coke. "Coke Cola?" Flippy shook his head.

"So what's your questions? I know you've killed me for answers, so let's hear 'em."

"… Who's Zeke?"

DJ did a double-take. "What?"

"Zeke. When I visited you in the hospital, you were muttering in your sleep. 'No, Zeke. It's not my fault.' Stuff like that. Who's Zeke?"

DJ was silent. "He's nobody."

"He didn't sound like nobody."

"He's DEAD, okay?!? FUCKING DEAD!"

"If he was dead, then why are you so afraid of him?"

"… Because now I'm not sure if he is dead. Next question."

Flippy leaned forward. "What did you say to Evil?"

DJ hesitated. "I told him the truth."

DJ got up, and walked over to a door which Flippy had failed to notice. He typed 10 numbers into the keypad, and the door came open.

"What's in there?" Flippy asked, his curiosity far outweighing his anger.

"In here, Flippy, is why I'm here." DJ said, and disappeared into the room. Flippy paused, then groggily got to his feet and followed him.

DJ switched on the fluorescent lights, and Flippy gasped. Rows upon rows of test tubs, beakers, computers, and what looked like a pulsing ball of energy locked in a glass box. DJ tosses a protective suit at Flippy.

"Put that on."

"Why?"

"Unless your lifelong dream is to die of radiation poisoning, put the fucking suit on."

Flippy hastily put on the protective suit. "What about you?"

"I've build up a resistance to it. Trust me, I've injected myself with this shit so many times that it's not even scary anymore."

"You've injected yourself with THAT?!?" Flippy exclaimed, pointing at the pulsing ball of energy.

"Well I needed a test subject." DJ said, non-chalantly grabbing a needle. Flippy reactively curled away. DJ laughed.

"It's not for you, silly." DJ said, and plunged the needle into his own arm.

"What are you doing?" Flippy asked in confusion.

DJ looked at Flippy. "Testing." He said, and withdrew several pints of blood, grimacing in the process.

"… Why?" Flippy asked, as DJ took out the needle and put it on a bench.

"We'll see." DJ put a smiley bandaid over his puncture, and ran the blood through a computer of some kind.

"Flippy, for the past 2 years, I have been searching for this place. Only 6 months ago I confirmed that it had existed. I've been hearing rumours of a town without death for a while. This here - " DJ pointed to another syringe, also filled with blood. " – is my blood before I got here. This -" points to the blood sample he just took. "- is the sample I just took."

"Why are you telling me this?"

DING!

DJ looked at the computer. "Because, Flippy. After I died my blood type changed drastically."

Flippy was speechless.

"Flippy, there are places like this all around the world. Uluru, Bermuda Triangle, Egypt. They each have something special about them. Uluru is thought to have healing powers. The Bermuda Triangle has more disappearances than anywhere else. The place in Egypt…" DJ trailed off, remembering what happened there.

"… Point is, this place is… Special. This, area of earth, has special properties, somewhere underneath it, which acts as a… counterbalance… to the normal laws of Death. It's not that hard to find the information you need when your dad's a direct army agent… Or filthy stinking rich. Luckily for me, I'm both."

"Are you the only one looking for this place?"

"Nah, other people have searched for it for centuries. I, unlike them, knew where to look. Not all these people are peaceful scientists, though. Some, are bloodthirsty assholes who only wants this place so they can raise a supposed 'indestructible' army. Bit like those guys you fought while you were in the army. Ask your evil self, he'll tell you all about it."

Flippy was speechless. All this information… Whoa. "Who are you?!?"

DJ smiled. "Why, Flippy. I'm one of the good guys."

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For some reason, I think of DJ as Ben Linus from Lost. Motives never really clear, can lie easily, and has a fuckload of information that you would kill for.

I suppose next he'll go around tricking people into killing each other.

Not yet. So this is it. The final instalment. I feel so proud.

I feel sick.*

I've already got a plan for another story. You'll have to wait and see, but I will say this: It can contain OCs, and it will have a fuckload of death. Review if you want to.

~ DJ.