Thanks for the reviews.

Third Chapter! AMAZING!

You know, this story has a companion story, like if Harry Potter was told from Voldemort's POV.

I'm debating whether to put it on. Most likely not, as I said before.

Oward and downward for Mime!

Handy stood in the doorframe, with a happy almost forced smile. "Hello dear sir, have you seen where Mime has gone? I am looking for him and he has disappeared."

Cuddles shrugs. "I haven't seen him. Not since last week, atleast. Maybe at the concert."

Handy is taken back by this but keeps on smiling. "Oh no, I know you've seen him. Would you please tell me where the hell he is?" He asked again, with a more urgent tone.

"Dude, I swear, If I see him, I'll tell you."

"Can I believe that statement? SHOULD I believe that statement?"

"Damnit Handy, leave me alone or we'll have to get Mr. Desert Eagle involved."

"FINE THEN!" Handy shouts, walking to his truck. Cuddles shuts the door and fumbles with the chain lock. He then peers out the window to see Handy screwing with his mailbox. Fumbling once again with the chain lock, the yellow Rabbit burst out the door and hurdles towards the mailbox. Handy shuts it with a swift upward tail motions, and he runs across the street and into the woods. "Damnit, Handy!" Cuddles shouts, shaking his fist. He sets his right hand on the mailbox. It explodes instantaneously.

The Mole turns to the next page of his upside down newspaper, nodding once every few moments. On the desk next to him, sat an old fashioned radio. The music was a jazz piece, and the singer had a bass voice. He sang:

Oh The Shark has pretty teeth, dear,

and he wears them pearly white,

just a jackknife has MacHeath, dear,

and he keeps it out of sight.

"Oh, Bertolt Brecht and Loius Armstrong. Their music was what America wanted." Mole sighed in a just as deep voice. Nutty would be coming in fifteen minutes to check up on him. He had already heard word on Cuddles and Handy, and was now on edge. "You know, boy, I had a quickee with Jenny the Pirate during this song on Broadway. Her voice was soprano. I just love hearing the sweet music of a soprano. Unfortunately, Petunia has breast cancer, and won't be a soprano anymore." Mime stood up out of his seat, knocking over the chair. The Mole leapt a foot in the air.

"OH MY GOD, SOMEONE BESIDES ME IS IN THE HOUSE!" he shouts.

Mime thought for a moment. This was the perfect opprotunity! He'd save a girl from breast cancer. And he'd be a superhero, not a Messiah.

With that Mime ran out the door, and made a Beeline to the hospital.

Mime entered the room. It was dimly light, flourescent lights flickering on and off, making a stacatto humming. Petunia lay in a cot, wires and tubes connecting her to stood holding flowers, talking to her quietly. She looked half-asleep, with a white bag under her eyes.

Despite this scene, there was a feeling of pure happiness. One that radiated through the body like the beat of of the heart.

Sniffles lay the flowers on her nightstand, and left the room. It was almost as if the happiness left the room with him. Could Sniffles be the cause of this happiness? Mime thought, He shook his head, dismissing it. Too far out, he thought to himself.

He walks over to the edge of Petunia's cot. She strains to roll her head to see Mime, and every movement seemed to be a genuine strain of her energy. She smiles at Mime. "Hello Mime." she said in a voice that contrasted her lethargic behavior. "Mime, I've been hearing rumours about you lately, are they true?" she asks. Mime ignores her question, instead, he reached down and grabs Petunia's breasts.

He could feel the tumour enter his right hand, not as the malignant friend-killer, but as a seashell you found on the beach, one you'd keep for later. He lets go, and Petunia gasps a moment late. Despite the normal feeling restored in her breast, Mime still frisked her. She elbows him in the family jewels.

"What the fuck, Mime?" she barks. The room's door slams shut, an orange beaver standing between them and the door.

"What the fuck, indeed, Mime." He says in a smooth voice. "Messiahs don't rape women. Unless your name is Koresh." He says with a smile. He snickers at his own joke, and Petunia began to sink back into bed, under the covers. "I've been searching for the Messiah for a week now. Tearing up the whole town for a week".

Mime backed against the wall. Handy was begining to frighten him. "Show me a trick, would'ya, Oh Highest?" One could tell underneath the sincere voice, Handy was mocking Mime.

Handy grabs a jackknife from his toolbelt in his teeth. The Blade glistened. "How 'bout you stop meh fom kiwwing da Messiah!" He shouts, charging forward. Mime slaps the palms of his hand to Handy's face, and the Tumour flows out into Handy's brain, but not before the knife had already plunged into Mime's chest cavity.

The beaver opens his eyes to behold twirling colors. He runs at the monitors over Petunia's cot, and begins whacking them with his head. They begins failing one by one, and Petunia's heart stops. After the blows caused sufficient head trauma, Handy collapses to the ground, blood spurting from a wound in his temple. A Monitor falls on Petunia's barely living body, killing her.

The only one left was Mime. He stumbles towards the door, blood pouring from the wound underneath his hand. Before he could reach the handle, he topples forward, dead before he hit the ground.

Sniffles opens the door to see the commotion and gasps at the bloody horror. An apparent Messiah was dead on the ground.

Meanwhile... Flippy, who is strolling with Flaky in the park, suddenly falls to the ground. Flaky rushes over to help him. When he looks up, two evil green eyes stare at Flaky, lustful and hungry.

Fritz, who is explaining to orphans that they do not need to worry about death, suddenly falls dead because he died of being hit by a car, without being hit by a car.

Blood stopped pouring from Shifty and Lifty's mouthes, but it also disappeared from the rest of their bodies aswell, making a six minute long excruciating death.

And finally, the tumour returned to Petunia's breast, although why it mattered now, who knows.

Oh, You wanted a Happy Ending?

What do I look like a Miracle Worker!