Quck note: E.F. stands for Evil Flippy.

Whump. Whump. Whump. Whump.

"Come on, Flippy, get up! Hey! Hey! Flippy! Fliiippyyyyy? Hey! Get up! Flippy! Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"Hrrmmmmph..."

Somebody was jumping on his bed. Opening his eyes a crack, Flippy was not surprised to see E.F. hopping up and down around him, not quite taking care to avoid his feet. Lying facedown with his head pressed into the pillow, Flippy covered his head with the blankets.

"Get the hell out of my room!" he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Get UUUUP! It's ten o'clock already!"

Flippy's eyes were still mostly closed when he sat bolt upright and shoved E.F. off of his bed. Giggling idiotically, his evil side shot out of his room like a crossbow bolt.

"Ugh..." Who needs an alarm clock when you have an annoying second personality? Flippy dragged himself up and picked up the library book he had been reading the night before, an incredibly good one. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Flippy checked the due date on it.

"Crap, I gotta renew it today if I want to finish it without having to pay a fine," the bear muttered darkly, putting on one of the many camo jackets he had in his closet before cracking open the book again. Might as well read while he could.

With his nose buried in the book, Flippy trudged out into the hall. Stepping over an ominous-looking tripwire, he leaped over a patch of what looked like banana leaves (obviously cover for a pit) and hopskipped the rest of the way down the hall to avoid the land mines.

E.F. stood at the end of the hall, his mouth hanging open in outrage. "Wha..."

"Thanks," Flippy said without looking up. "I always count on you for my morning aerobics."

Flippy put down his book to turn on the stove and open the refrigerator. Before long, the sound of sizzling arose from a frying pan lined with uncooked bacon. Behind his back, E.F. was approaching his library book with what looked suspiciously like a can of Axx and a cigarette lighter. With a careless flip of his spatula, Flippy sent a half-raw piece of bacon flying through the air. He was rewarded by a satisfying sizzling noise when it landed on his target's face.

"Don't try that again," he said, rather needlessly.

E.F. barely noticed him, on account of the fact that he was running around aimlessly, screaming, "AAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!! IT BUUUURNS! IT BUUUUUUUUURNS!" before smacking into the wall and sliding to the ground, spark out.

Sometimes, even Flippy had to admit that his mind was screwed up.

Flippy picked up the book again as he started eating. Absently spreading jam on a piece of toast, the bear absorbed the words on the page like a sponge soaking up water. Then, he reached out and smacked E.F.'s paw, right as it was straying toward the pile of bacon on his plate.

"Ow!"

"You can't fool me, man."

Rubbing his paw, E.F. turned away and muttered darkly to himself. When he finally fell silent, he crossed one leg over the other and twiddled his paws idly. He even threw in a casual whistled tune. Flippy showed no sign of paying attention, absorbed as he was in the book he was reading, as E.F. reached for his bowl of cereal with an unscrewed salt shaker in his paw. Flippy thrust a rather large spoon into the bowl, and (you have to realize, he was doing all this with his nose buried in a book) positioned the spoon just so before slamming a fist on the end of the spoon handle. Like a boulder from a trebuchet, a sizeable spoonful of cereal splattered into E.F.'s face.

"ACKPTHT!"

"You never learn, do you?"

E.F. stole Flippy's hat to wipe the cereal off his face. "You know, you were a lot more fun the first time, when we had that epic battle thing all over town which ended in you getting run over by a chicken truck."

"Don't remind me," Flippy muttered flatly.

"And then that time you went to a therapist and went through all those methods? Dude, talk about hilarious!"

"Well, once I realized that none of them worked, I decided to forget it." Out of the corner of his eye, Flippy saw the wistful glances E.F. was shooting at his breakfast plate, and he turned to glare at him. "You know, puppy eyes aren't gonna get you any bacon in the morning."

"Aw, c'moooooon..."

"Remember what I told you yesterday? It still stands."

"You can't be serious!"

"For the love of God, will you at least try?"

"Fine!" Crossing his arms, E.F. murmured under his breath, as fast as he could. "FlippycanIpleasehavesomebacon."

"Can't hear a word you just said."

By the look on E.F.'s face, one might have thought that Flippy had asked him to eat his own feet. "Flippy, can I please have some bacon?"

Flippy shoved his plate over, smirking. "Help yourself. Wait, what do you say?"

The bear could tell by E.F.'s contorted face that he actually would rather eat his own feet than say thank you, so he let the matter drop. "Just kidding."

Ten minutes later saw Flippy sitting on the couch, still reading. Looking impossibly bored, E.F. slouched next to him. Carefully, as silently as he could, E.F. leaned over and started reading over his shoulder.

This went on for about five minutes before Flippy slammed the book shut and swung it suddenly at his face. It was a fake, but E.F. flinched anyway and fell off the couch.

"Don't read over my shoulder!" Flippy said grumpily. "It's like there's a sniper or something behind me, and there's a red dot on the page from the rifle. Only, the sniper's not trying to kill me, he's just trying to annoy the hell out of me. Something you do every day."

"Ooh, can I have some ice for that burn?"

"No."

"I was kidding."

"Good. Now quit talking, I'm trying to read!"

E.F. slumped back on the sofa. After a while, he began kicking his legs against the couch, quite loudly. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Flippy pointedly ignored him.

Sighing needlessly loudly, E.F. drummed his paws on the couch cushion. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he pursued his lips and made a loud popping noise with his mouth.

Pop.

Flippy's teeth clenched.

Pop.

The bear's fingers dug into the book cover as though he was imagining strangling something.

E.F. leaned forward. Pop!

"GAARRRAAAAAGGGHHHH! I'M GOING TO THE LIBRARY!" Flippy roared, much to E.F.'s amusement. Perhaps amusement is an understatement, though. E.F. was practically rolling on the floor. As Flippy headed for the door, however, he scrambled up and followed him.

"Hey Flippy! Can I come to?"

"What're you asking me for?" Flippy grumbled. "You follow me everywhere I go, no matter what I say. If I were to close this door in your face--" To emphasize his point, he did so. But once outside, he turned away from the closed door only to find himself face to face with E.F. again. "--you'll just come out anyway. Now, I'm just going to the library. I'm gonna tell you the same thing I tell you every day. No funny business!"

"Hey Flippy!" Cuddles called from across the street. "Who're you yelling at?"

"Myself!" Flippy yelled back, quite truthfully. When he turned back, E.F. was no longer there. This happened often. All the time, actually. E.F. would leave him alone, only to come back at the first sight or sound of--

BOOM!

That was Pop's fault. The idiot was still struggling with the concept of lighting a barbecue.

Flippy jumped and flinched, imagining bombs going off all around him. When he opened his eyes a crack, he was not quite surprised to see a dead, torn apart Cuddles at his feet. Pop was nearby, impaled to a tree with something that Flippy chose not to try and identify.

Sighing, the green bear glanced down at his paws. As usual, they were soaked with blood, with small bits of torn-off flesh still clinging to his fur. Sudden panic washed through him, coupled with indignation when he saw E.F. standing to the side.

Flippy glared at him. "Did you really have to do that?"

With a bright smile, his 'flipped-out' side nodded. "Mmhm."

"Ew." Wiping his paws on the ground, the green bear continued toward the library. E.F. ran after him.

"C'mon, Flip, you used to get so pissed off and emo whenever I did that before!"

"Walk with me." As his alter ego caught up to him, Flippy turned and gave the nearest animal a bright smile and a wave. "Morning, Flaky!"

The porcupine waved back. "Hi, Flippy!" Keep in mind that this was not too far away from the recently-slaughtered-and-mutilated Pop and Cuddles. Once Flaky was out of earshot, Flippy muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Do you see?"

"See what?" E.F. looked nonplussed.

"We all die in this place. Death happens, and it happens again. It no longer matters how it happens, and it hardly matters that it does happen. I used to care all the time, and so did everyone else. Now they don't. They accept me because, in contrast to you, I'm friendly and completely safe around children. I make an effort to make up for the traumatizing stuff you do. They don't mind. So I don't have to either."

E.F. stared at him in a mixture of frustration and confusion. "I... do not understand you."

"And you never will," Flippy retorted, unable to keep from grinning. "But don't worry, dude. The feeling's mutual."

That beginning scene is based on how my brother got me out of bed one time.

So anyway, I always see all these dark, angst-filled fics revolving around Flippy and his 'dark passenger' (not to mention the equally dark romance fics) where Flippy totally hates (or loves) his inner demon. In these fics, he usually is surrounded by Tree Friends giving him a wide birth, and I can't help thinking, 'WTF? THAT NEVER HAPPENS IN THE SHOW!' So I decided one day to write a story that explores a happier, more humorous side to his problem. I mean, come on, wouldn't it be possible for Flippy and Evil Flippy to just get along? It makes perfect sense in my head.