I got stabbed in the head with a plot bunny when I was looking at FOP fanart. Timmy is 16, and the other kids are around 15 to 16, and Vicky is 22. Mom and Dad are in their late forties… that's about it.
This is gonna have a slightly darker tone than other fanfiction. Sure, FOP is comedic, but it has some openings to insert angst, drama, and all around darkness. So I guess you can call this a dark comedy.
Warning: some things in this work of fiction are not suitable to children under the age of 13. I warned you kids, so don't go crying about my fic to mommy or her lawyer.
Speaking of lawyers: Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Fairly Odd Parents. All characters belong to Nickelodeon and its associates.
"Normal Speech"
Text
"Timmy's thoughts"
"Nega-Timmy speech"
Sounds
"Nega-Timmy Thoughts"
-start here-
Hi. My name is Timothy Thomas Turner. Most people call me Timmy. I have brown hair, blue eyes, and buck teeth. My favorite colors are pink and green, though I can't exactly show off pink with out the wrath of high school bullies, like Francis.
I wear a green t-shirt and black pants. I have a year supply of them, no joke. But enough about that.
I have fairy godparents.
Seriously. Their names are Cosmo and Wanda. Cosmo has green hair. He's my fairy godfather. He's a bit of an idiot, but he can come through in a pinch. As moronic as he is, there are a few times where he has an amazing ability to help me out of any bad time.
Wanda's my fairy godmother. She has pink hair. Out of the two, she's definitely the smart one, but she can be a rather big nag.
The two have been with me for almost 5 years. I hear that's a record when it comes to godchildren. It's been great.
Though I've made some dumb wishes. I've made an evil imaginary friend named Gary, caused my former teacher Mr. Crocker's life to be ruined when I went back in time, and I have indirectly caused the world be conquered by monkeys, the aforementioned teacher, and my evil former babysitter, Vicky. I fixed those problems, though, with luck and a good bit of magic. I did make one wish that scared me, still scares me today. It started off nice and well. I wished to do the exact opposite of what my parents said. When I had started off for school, my father made a huge mistake, by telling me to be good.
Instantly, my hair turned black, my old pink hat became a black top hat, and my eyes became red, and my buck teeth shrunk, my canines becoming fangs.
I almost destroyed the world that day.
It was luck that made my evil version become good again, but evil always leaves its mark. Every time I made a wish, I heard a dark whisper.
I've done a good job fighting it off, in my own opinion.
-Excerpt from Timmy Turner's diary.
"Timmy, I've got great news!" my mom shouted, barging into my sanctuary and waking me up.
"Huh?" I said, ever so smartly.
"Your father and I won tickets for a 2 week cruise!"
"Let me guess. You only have two, and you're leaving me here by myself for two weeks?" I asked, hope swelling in my chest.
"Wrong! There are two tickets, and Vicky's coming to baby-sit you!" the mother figure in my life said.
I swear, my room had gotten 30 degrees colder.
"B-but, mom… Vicky should be in college, getting her degree!" I said, barely containing my fear. Sure, I was probably bigger than Vicky now, but she was definitely meaner.
"If you just let me out, we could show the world that we are much more evil," said a dark voice in the back of my head.
"Oh, shut it." I retorted.
"Nonsense. Vicky was given a master's degree early. I swear that girl is a genius, and so kind as well," my naïve mother said.
"Bullshit."
"Agreed."
-scene change-
Normally, I love Saturdays, especially the one before the two weeks of Spring Break. Convenient timing, huh?
I sat there quietly in the living room, not really paying attention to the TV or my parents moving luggage to the front door. Vicky would be here at about noon, so I had about a half hour of freedom left. My mind was strangely quiet until my parents had just about finished packing.
"LET ME OUT!"
"Why?"
"The red haired woman approaches"
"What's your point?"
"I will not let her harm me. Know that, whelp, if she puts you in a temper, I can easily take control, and her tortures on your body become mine. I shall not tolerate a lesser evil ruining me."
"Guess I'll have to control my temper, then."
DING DONG
My father opened the door to hell, otherwise known as…
"Hello, baby…"
Damn hormones. Damn evil consciousness.
Vicky looked almost the same as I remember. She carried herself a lot differently, though. Seemed a little less evil, but I swear I could hear thunder in the distance. I absent mindedly glanced out the window to see a clear sky.
"Timmy! Come out here and get Vick's luggage." My dad said.
Vicky looked at me as she came inside the living room, not saying a word.
I brushed past her, ignoring the rants of my evil side commanding me to say something to her and taking her there, the horny bastard.
-scene change-
A few years back, when I was 12, my parents started to go away for weekends at a time. In order to have a person to dump their kid on, they made a contract with Vicky, naming her my guardian whenever they were outside a 50 mile radius of me. As such, my babysitter had gotten her own bedroom in my house. Thankfully, it's not like her room at her parent's house.
I took her luggage up to her room, barely resisting the urge to destroy it.
"Bye Timmy, we love you, see you in two weeks!" they called up the stairs, not even bothering to say it face to face.
I swear those two don't care about me. It's nerve wrecking.
I heard the car start and pull of the driveway. Hearing it felt like someone slowly ran me through with a katana or something.
"Twerp! Get down here!" my babysitter shouted.
I sighed and made my way decent to the living room and to hell.
-end-
Erom here. For those wondering, no, I'm not quitting my Naruto story. I'm working out plot details on it. This fic was inspired be a fan art of Vicky and Nega-Timmy. Not sure what pairing this is going to be… but that doesn't matter right now. I'll update this when I get some reviews, don't care how many.