Well here goes nothing! Just another Joy/Fear story. Yes, I know that it has been a while since I have updated all of my other stuff, but do not fret my dears, for I will post an update soon! Still, in the mean time, I hope you enjoy this little version of Paperman, while I attempt to get the juices in my brain flowing again. It should not be too long, only a few chapters.

Now then, anything related to the movie "Inside Out" or the short "Paperman" does not belong to me. They belong to the two amazing companies: Pixar and Disney. Enjoy!

What began as an ordinary day for everyone else, could only be seen by one human as disastrous with either humiliation or death being the only possible outcome. It was as set in stone as his actual gravestone, already sure to be in production. Sad, right?

Basically, though the morning was sure to be nothing but completely, nay, utterly mundane for virtually one hundred percent of the entire human population; unfortunately, for one very awkward man, today was sure to be irrefutably nothing but pure "step on a crack, you break your mother's back", unadulterated hell.

And so we begin.

Friday the 13th – 6:35 A.M.

The day was welcomed by the chaotic ringing of a cellphone alarm.

"Triple dent gum will make you smile, Triple dent gum- it'll last a while!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOD," came the scream of a thirty-something year old man, who grasped blindly at his chest, before gripping terrified at his lavender bedsheets, "JUST WHAT KIND OF DEMONIC CRAP IS THIS?"

He quickly threw the covers over his face, already continuing to wail. He curled in on himself. Whimpering audibly, he huddled beneath his blankets, his body shaking in wild shivers. Ever since he was a young child the man had been prone to night terrors, and because of the day's date, he had awoken from an especially terrible one, so the aftereffects and adrenaline rush of it all was still managing to get to him; the shrill sound of his screams only seeming to ring throughout the man's somewhat cramped, yet tolerably sized, San Francisco apartment which, unfortunately for him, also meant his entire apartment building.

"F-Find a happy place, find a happy place-"

"DAMMIT BILL, SHUT UP!"

That was the moment that a middle-aged Bill Jitters suddenly paused with a dreadfully fearful look in his eyes. Then, they turned sorrowful. He swallowed hollowly from his bed, and gently lowered his blanket. Turning back on his pillow to glance guiltily at his headboard, the man tightened his fists around the edge of his covers and yelled "S-Sorry Red!" through the wall to his hotheaded neighbor.

As always, the sincerity that was in his voice floored the elder man, and he slurred, fully annoyed, but eventually grumbled a curse word in reply.

"O-Okay, you can do this Bill," the man in question murmured, physically shaking in his mattress, "You are alert, and you are prepared. You are the man, and you are ready for anything!"

… What was the risk of a meteor shower, again?

Pointedly, the man ignored the pull of the dark rings which weighed down the skin beneath his gaze. Bags; it was the sign for insomniacs everywhere. Just a bunch of grey and black anxiety-induced lines/blemishes that expressed just how truly exhausted and how not ready for anything he actually was for life… God, he sucked at pep talks.

Bill let out a long groan.

Suddenly, he felt as if everything would come crashing down on him today. Yep, it was certain; he was undeniably sure of it! This Friday the 13th, forever codenamed DOOMSDAY, would be a freaking disaster. An utter monstrosity! He could feel it in his bones, and he knew it in his gut.

All Bill could do was groan exhaustedly toward the sky, as he mildly arched his back and stretched lazily across his comforter. Still, his fingers lightly shook. Feeling sluggish, he managed to drag himself out of bed and crept tiredly toward his kitchen. A strangled, half dead yawn left him.

Bill immediately sighed, resignedly stepping across the tanned floorboards of his apartment. As the man passed through his modest dining room, he wearily peeped out of his apartment window to see that the San Francisco sky was bright and sunny, and that there was not a single cloud in sight. Thank goodness; it appeared that rain was not even remotely in the forecast today. He felt his mood lighten somewhat.

Wonderful! Bill felt himself faintly smile. At least he would not have to worry about getting caught in the rain or slipping in a puddle today…

Continuing on into his kitchen, Bill heard his stomach rumble. A quiet laugh escaped him. Silently rejoicing at the fact that he was all alone, the grown man placed a complacent hand on his tummy and gently gave it a few pats.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear ya little guy. Eggs it is."

Thinking about the deliciousness that is eggs, the man opened up the pantry above his stove and reached inside, mindlessly pulling out the salt. He squealed when he accidentally dropped it, and salt spilled out all over the floor.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no-"

The man hurriedly bent down and began picking up pinches of salt, quickly throwing the grains over his shoulder, over and over again for extra protection.

"I cannot get bad luck. Oh, please let this be the only bad thing that happens today!"