AN: OK. I really tried with this. Anyway, there's Italian words. I figured I'd have a few Italian words since Pinocchio takes place in Italy. *shrugs* Here's what they mean.

Mostro-monster, freak

Demone-devil, demon

Vattene-get out!

Pinocchio sat in the chair at the pool bar, holding his beer mug that his new best friend, Lampwick had gotten him. They were having fun at Pleasure Island.

He frowned as he looked at the beer. He felt bad that he had a fight with his only best friend, Jiminy Cricket. He was pretty mad that he chose Lampwick over his conscience. Pinocchio didn't have very many friends and it was quite confusing since he was a wooden boy. Lampwick seemed like a nice young boy about his age, maybe a few years older than Pinocchio.

He met him when he had gotten on the coach to Pleasure Island. They talked a bit while en route and hung out doing stuff at Pleasure Island. Pinocchio had no idea how fun being bad was until he got a taste of it. Jiminy was pissed off at the face that Pinocchio was acting atrociously under a bad influence of Lampwick.

Lampwick was glad to meet a young and eager boy like Pinocchio. He didn't care for school. He refused to be a good boy and follow the rules. He wanted to do what he wanted. When he met Pinocchio, a naive little...boy? He guessed. He never saw such an odd looking kid before. He seemed to be made of wood. But so what? Pinocchio was willing to follow him around like a puppy dog. Lampwick often hung out with other bad boys who skipped school and misbehaved. He had his first cigar and beer at age six and took quite a liking to it. His mother was furious at him for behaving like this. He didn't care. She wanted him to be a good boy. She warned him that bad boys ended up turning into jackasses...like that no good father of his.

While playing pool, he took a break to sip his beer.

"Huh," Lampwick scoffed. "Hearin' that beetle talk, ya think somethin's gonna happen."

Pinocchio stared in horror and shock as he saw two red donkey ears bloom from Lampwick's round ones. He looked at his beer and pushed it aside.

"Conscience, ah phooey!" he added, leaning over to take a shot at pool.

Soon, there was the sound of cloth tearing. Lampwick felt it and guessed he tore his pants yet again. He shrugged it off, straightening up, failing to notice a tail had spurt from the seat of his pants.

Pinocchio nearly choked on his cigar, coughing like crazy. He plucked it out of his mouth and tossed it away. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. It...was real.

"L-Lampie?" Pinocchio stammered.

"What's up, kiddo?" he asked. He furrowed his brow when he saw his friend was staring at him, wide eyed and mouth agape. "What? What are you staring at?"

The words were stuck in Pinocchio's throat. He pointed to Lampwick's face, blue eyes wide as dinner plates. Lampwick was confused at first until he felt something soft brush his cheek. In his peripheral vision, he saw something hanging by his face.

"Wh-what?" he said confused.

He saw a pair of...ears? He went to the mirror and saw to his horror that he had donkey ears! He screamed, which came out like braying.

Jiminy heard the boys screaming and ran towards the bar. He hoped he hadn't been too late. He saw a screaming Lampwick and Pinocchio. They had sprouted donkey tails and ears. They were panicking.

"What's happening?" shouted Pinoccho, seeing he had sprouted a brown pair of ears.

"Please! Help me!" Lampwick screamed, panicking. "Be a pal! Call that beetle!"

"Boys! Calm down!" said Jiminy. "We need to get out of here now!"

"Please!" begged Lampwick to Jiminy. "Please! Help us! Help me!"

Jiminy sighed. Though he hated Lampwick from the moment he met him, he wasn't going to abandon a terrified boy who was slowly transforming into a donkey. He'd rather get them out of here safely than be sold to salt mines or the circus, being abused or worked to death.

"If you want my help, Lampie," said Jiminy. "Then you have to promise me you will go home."

The very thought of him going home looking like this was terrifying to the redhead. He couldn't face his Mama. He had disappointed her so much. What would she think if she saw him like this. Still he was scared.

"I...I promise," he stammered, still panicking.

"Let's get out of here," said Jiminy. "Follow me, boys."

He led the boys out of Pleasure Island as far as possible. Once at the cliff, they jumped into the sea. It was so cold. The boys swam towards the shore, exhausted and cold...well, at least for Lampwick. He coughed and shivered, soaking wet as he pulled himself out of the sea. Pinocchio hardly felt the cold. If they hadn't enough time to escape from Pleasure Island, who knows how bad it would've been?

" Jiminy?" Pinocchio said, looking for him. He felt something tug on his tail and found the little cricket hanging off the black hairs.

Jiminy let go and coughed, tapping the side of his head, purging what water had gotten in his ears and dumped out more from his hat, then wrung out his waterlogged jacket. He straightened himself out.

"Cmon," he said. "Let's get home."

Pinocchio nodded. He wanted to go home after this. Though he was sure Geppetto, his father, would be furious with him for being away for so long.

"Alright," said Jiminy to Lampwick before leaving. "I held up my end of the deal, Lampie. Now you hold up yours."

"Screw that," he said. "I ain't going home."

"Now, son," said Jiminy, waving a scolding finger with a scowl. "We had a deal."

"Screw your deal, ya dumb beetle."

"You'll find life to be a lot harder if you live on the streets, Lampie," warned Jiminy.

"So what? I can take care of myself."

"Well, fine. don't say I didn't warn you."

"Fine."

Lampwick walked off. There was no way he was going home. Not like this. Maybe some of his pals would take him in. He opened the door to a local tavern. He was hungry and tired. He'd like to have some food and a warm place to stay...maybe a drink to take the edge off. As soon as he walked in, everyone was staring at the soaked redhead with donkey ears and a tail.

"MOSTRO!" a lady screamed. "Demone!"

The tavern was filled with shrieks of laughter and terror as they saw him. Lampwick frowned a bit, blushing. He forgot he had ears and a tail. Cringing, he grasped his tail, wringing it and his ears lowered like a beaten animal.

"Vattene!" the innkeeper shouted, whacking a broom at him.

People threw their drinks at him, shouting and laughing at him. Lampwick ran out, frightened and soaked in cheap beer. Shaking, he hid behind an alleyway. Surely he could find someone who'd be willing to take him in and feed him. He tried to hide his shameful transformation. The tail was easy to hide, even though it hurt being cramped in his pants. But his ears, he had no luck of hiding them. This was embarrassing.

Each door he knocked on was only met with a scream or a laugh in the face and slamming the door, whacking him with a broom, throwing things at him to drive him away. All he heard was that he was a freak or a demon wherever he went. Even his best friends laughed at him.

By sunrise, he wandered the streets, a group of schoolchildren pointing and laughing and threw rotten food at the redhaired boy with the donkey ears and tail. He was met with more shouts and cruel mocking; sometimes people stared and whispered, pointing.

Lampwick's ears lowered and he ran off into an alley, hiding from the crowd. This was beyond embarrassing at this point. Now it was humiliating. Now he couldn't show his face now. He couldn't go to school. He couldn't go home. Now that he had experienced public humiliation. He was alone in the world. He would be in big trouble.

Lampwick slumped on the cold cobblestone, curling up near some trash. He hugged his knees; his clothes were dirty and tattered. He was hungry. The redhead boy looked at his reflection in the puddle near his feet, frowning. He kept hearing the laughing and screaming, the hurtful words echoing in his mind, the pelting of the rotten food and assorted objects thrown at him. Being beaten with a broom.

Tears began to prick his green eyes. He usually acted like a tough boy, street smart and such...but now that this happened, his heart was aching. He felt humiliated. Ashamed. He wished he never acted like a bad boy. He wished he'd never gone to Pleasure Island. He wanted his Mama.

Yet, the thought of going home was even more terrifying. Would his Mama scream at him and call him a monster if she saw him like this? No way he could face his her. He'd rather just deal with it here.

"I told you that you should go home," the small voice came from the corner.

Lampwick looked over and saw that annoying beetle that hung around with Pinocchio.

"Whatta you want, ya stupid beetle?" he spat annoyed. "Why do you care?"

"Did you enjoy getting your first taste of being in society?" he said, leaning against a wooden box. "Do you like getting laughed at? Having things thrown at you?"

"I'll deal with it," Lampwick said dismissive but slightly hurt.

"Well, I don't think so," Jiminy said. "Besides, isn't your mother worried sick about you?"

"She doesn't care," he lied.

"She's probably looking for you right now. You should go home, Lampwick. It's best that you let your mother know you are alive and well instead of having her think you're dead."

Lampwick felt tears for the first time in his life...well nowadays. He hardly cried. He had been such a disappointment to his Mama. He was a ne'redowell. A hoodlum. A bad boy.

"It'd probably be what's best," he answered sullen.

"Don't say that!" Jiminy scolded. "No mother ever wants to find out her child is dead. You should be ashamed, Lampie. Running off like that, breaking your poor mother's heart. All she ever did was love you."

Lampwick lowered his head, filled with overwhelming shame.

"Now pick yourself up and go home," the cricket ordered.

"I-I can't," he said, shakily.

"Why not?" said Jiminy with a frown.

"I can't go home like this," he said, showing his donkey ears. "Mama would never take me back."

"If you go home and explain yourself," said Jiminy. "She'll understand."

"No she won't."

"Why not, Lampie?"

"I-I," he began, the words stuck in his throat. He was so embarrassed. He ran off, arguing with her. He told her he was never coming home. "I've been such a bad boy. She'll never take me back."

"I'm sure if you apologize to her, she'll forgive you," Jiminy assured.

"No she won't," Lampwick whimpered. "Mama doesn't love me."

"That's not true, Lampie," Jiminy said. "Your mother loves you very much. Think how much you broke her heart, running off like that, acting like a bad boy. And yet, she loves you."

Lampwick's lip quivered. What the beetle said was true. He was a horrible person to her. He lowered his head, his red bangs hid his wet green eyes. His body convulsed as he hitched some breaths. Tears trailed down his freckled round cheeks, splashing down on the small cricket like rain. His sobs came out like the braying of a baby donkey.

"Now, now," said Jiminy. "Crying's not going to help. You should go home to your mother, tell her you're sorry and promise her to be a good boy from now on."

"I-I know," he blubbered. "B-b-but I just can't. She'll never accept me like this."

"Hey, hey," said Jiminy. "It's OK, Lampie. I'm sure your Mama loves you, no matter how you look."

That seemed to lift the spirits of the boy. He sniffled, looking at the small cricket with teary green eyes.

"Y-you think so?" he said.

"Sure," said Jiminy. "A mother's love is endless and unselfish. You'll be in more trouble if you don't go home."

"B-but she'll punish me," he blubbered.

"It can't be any worse than living on the streets, alone. It's best you get it over with. Then you and her can mend fences."

"A-alright," the redhead said wiping his tears picked himself up, dusting off his clothes and headed out in the dark streets towards his home.

She was worried about her son, Lampwick. He hadn't come home for days. That boy was a defiant brat: breaking curfew, disrespecting you, stealing, smoking and drinking. He would laugh at rules and groundings, refused to do his homework and chores.

Sighing, she decided to look for him anyway and bring him home. He was her son. Yet sometimes she questioned whether she loved him sometimes since he refused to behave. But what mother would stop loving their child?

She spent many sleepless nights worried after he had run off, cursing her out and telling her he was never coming home. Still, she would look for him.

After several hours of looking for him, Lampwick's mother was saddened. Another day of not being able to find him. She sat at the table, feeling tears in her eyes. He was probably dead.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a small knock on the door. She jolted up and went to answer it, finding what looked like a ragamuffin of a child with the ears of a donkey, a miserable creature. She saw the mop of red hair and teary green eyes. His head was lowered. He looked very ashamed and frightened.

She recognized him almost immediately

"Um...hi...Mama," said the low voice of her prodigal son.

"LAMPWICK!" she shouted angrily. "Where the HELL have you been?! I've been looking for you EVERYWHERE!"

"I...I..." he stammers unsure of how to explain himself, blushing with embarrassment.

"What is this?!" she said shocked, pointing to his ears. "What happened to you?"

Lampwick found his words stuck in his throat. All that came out was stammers, squeaks, followed by some braying. She wondered what had happened to him. What could've caused this?

"You better come clean, Lampie," whispered Jiminy. "Tell her the truth."

"Where were you?" she demanded. "I go to pick you up from school and your teacher said you weren't there!"

"Pleasure Island," he mumbles.

"You skipped school and went there?" she respond outraged.

The redhead blushed with shame. "Y-yes...but I'm sorry, Mama. I wanna come home."

Lampwick's mother sighed exasperated. She had tried for years to get him to behave, but it seemed hopeless.

"Why should I bother to take you home, Lampie?" she said frowning, filled with disappointment. "I am so fed up with your bad behavior. Maybe you should just be on your own."

Lampwick's fuzzy red ears lowered. He was terrified of not being able to come home. He'd live alone in the streets, cold and hungry. Everyone laughed at his appearance. It probably would've been better if he never came home at all.

"N-no, Mama!" he begged desperately. "Please! I wanna come home! I'll be a good boy! I swear!"

It was the same tired old line his mother heard every time he got in trouble. She was just so cross with the boy that she just didn't know how to get the point across.

"You wanna come home, Lampie? Then if you do, I'm going to have to punish you, Lampie. You're getting a spanking."

"A...spanking?" he said with a slight quiver in his voice.

"Just get it over with, Lampie," whispered Jiminy. "Might as well. You worried her to death."

Lampwick nodded and lowered his head, knowing he needed to be taught a lesson. He went home with his Mama.

Upon arriving home, his Mama took him towards a chair and lay him across her lap, undoing his suspenders and lowering his pants to his knees, exposing his bottom; a donkey tail has grown just above the cleft of his backside, flicking nervously. Lampwick blushed as he was placed in this embarrassing position.

"This will teach you NOT to be disobedient again," she said sternly.

Lampwick's tail curled over his round, boyish cheeks as if it were trying to protect himself.

"Hold your tail out of the way, Lampwick," she said.

He grasped his swishing tail out of the way, frowning. She struck his bottom harshly; the flesh jiggled and turned pink with a handprint. The boy lowered his donkey ears and letting out a cry of pain that sounded like a baby donkey braying. The blows continued swiftly and harshly, making his ass sting like crazy.

"OW!" he yelled. "Please, Mama! Stop it! I'm sorry!"

I'm sorry. Another tired old line she heard from him. She was going to spank this jackass's bottom until he couldn't sit down for a long time. She hoped this spanking would sink in at how serious she was about his bad behavior. Nothing else seemed to work when she tried to punish him. The threat of being left on the street seemed to work good enough, being laughed at by passersby, forcing him to survive on his own.

Tears pour out of his eyes, Lampwick sobbed and brayed hoarsely. There were times he got struck on under curve where his ass met his thighs, which hurt the most since it was where he sat down.

After a few more blows, she set him upright. He pouted slightly, his raw backside was stinging like crazy, hanging over the back of his trousers as he gathered up his pants. Tears streamed down his freckled cheeks, which he wiped with his tail. His ears are lowered.

"Now, are we going to act like a jackass again, Lampwick?" she said sternly.

"N-n-no, Mama," he blubbered.

"Are you going to be a good boy?"

"Y-yes. I promise."

"Good. Now don't you EVER run off like that again!"

He nods, his red bangs hanging over his eyes. He sobs and brays more, rubbing his sore bottom. He hated this spanking. It hurt so much that he wouldn't be able to sit down for a while. Yet a spanking was better than being on the streets. At least he could come home.

"I won't," he sniffled. "I'm really sorry, Mama."

His mother smiled softly hearing that. She was certain her son meant it this time. She reached her arms towards the boy and hugged him tightly to her chest. Lampwick cried and cried into her; his tears soaked her shirt. It felt so good to be held by her, to be loved. She buried her face into Lampwick's red hair and shushed him, kissing his forehead. She missed him so much and was ever glad he was home. She loved him, donkey ears and all.