A/N: And thus I've started another fanfic. Which I'd promised myself that I wouldn't, seeing as I have a very hard time keeping up with the ones I'm working on already. But I couldn't help myself. Forgive me, for I am weak. You may request episodes, but I want to write my favourite ones first. Also, I'm trying my best to get the dialogue right, but English isn't my first language and I sometimes have a hard time understanding what they're saying. I'm doing my best, though. (Which is why I skipped/changed the part with the pancakes: I can't hear what Fred's saying).
Starting off with Freaky Fred, since it's, in my opinion, the best episode ever made of any show ever.
Anyway, enjoy! And please, when you're done, I'd like a revi—

"We interrupt this program to bring you... the Courage the Cowardly Dog show, starring Courage the Cowardly Dog! Abandoned as a pup, he was found by Muriel, who lives in the middle of Nowhere with her husband, Eustace Bagge. But creepy stuff happens in Nowhere... it's up to Courage to save his new home!"

Freaky Fred

An old bus made its way through the desert that was Nowhere. Dust flew up around it and the heat that automatically came with the sun was close to unbearable.

It was almost empty aside from maybe three or four people. Only one of these three or four people is important to this story: he sat in what would be the middle of the bus, staring straight ahead of him with a serene little smile playing on his lips. To be honest, the smile was actually wide and could easily be associated with that of a crazy axe murderer or maybe a child-molester offering candy to his next unsuspecting victim. But the light landed on his face in a way that had him completely shielded, light-wise, from the other occupants of the bus, and so the smile seemed small and serene.

Hello new friend, my name is Fred
the words you hear are in my head.
I say, I said my name is Fred,
and I've been...

The smile grew even larger, his thin lips parting to show off large and uneven teeth that, aside from their whiteness, would render a dentist sleepless.

...very naughty.

As Muriel was doing the bed, she informed the other residents of their little house that she couldn't wait for that 'wee lad Fred' to arrive.

Across the hall outside the bedroom, Eustace was standing in front of the bathroom door. While Courage, their dog, who was there with him, handed him an exceptionally large screwdriver from the toolbox, Eustace said sourly: "That freak's not setting one freaky foot in this house," and proceeded to torment the lock on the door with the screwdriver he'd just been given.

Not so far away, the bus continued to drive through the dry heat.

The story I'm about to tell,
I tell you, I will tell you well,

The man continued to smile to himself as he opened his bag and took up a nicely framed photo of a certain Muriel Bagge.

Is of my dear aunt Muriel,
and just how I've been... naughty.

"The freak's a barber," said Eustace to Courage while working on the lock. "A freaky barber! With his own freaky barbershop. Where freaky things happen... freaky barber things!"

Courage, upon hearing this, was shaking with fear already. He hoped that Eustace was just exaggerating and that Fred was a completely normal human being.

The bus, even closer now, was ever so slowly coming to a stop. Through the windows on the right side, a house could be seen. This house was familiar to the man, who could barely wait to see his beloved family.

Voila the farm. My aunt lives here,
with precious pup, and husband dear.
My heart beat fast as I drew near,
I feel so nice...

The doors opened and he stepped out.

...and naughty.

The doorbell rang and Muriel said "Oh, that must be Fred" and set off to open up while Courage howled with fright, imagining his definition of freaks waiting just outside.

I thought just how excited they,
must be that I would come today,
they'd shout "come Fred! huzzah! hooray!
Dear boy you look so... naughty."

And in that very second, Muriel opened the door, smiling as always.

"Ah, Fred, m'dear nephew," she said. "What brings you to our cosy corner of the world?"

She looked at the young man in front of her. He was tall, wearing a green suit, had messy yellow hair, large eyebrows and heavy eyelids. And, of course, he was wearing his sweetest smile. She felt that nothing had changed, even though it had been so long.

He opened his mouth, and a surprisingly deep voice said: "Holiday."

Once inside, Muriel sat in her usual chair and motioned for Fred to sit in the sofa. He did so, and Muriel looked at Courage, who was sitting on the stairs, and waved him over.

"Courage. Come and meet Fred!"

Courage had been discussing with himself whether or not he was afraid of this Fred-person, but the moment those eyes turned in his direction, he decided that yes; he was very afraid of Fred.

He whined, wanting to run upstairs and hide away, but their eyes were locked in a strange staring-contest. Fred did nothing but smile that wide smile of his, while Courage was already soaked in the cold sweat of fear.

That's when my tired eyes beheld,
a doggy dog, like dog, he spelled,
D-O-G, is what he spelled,
and that's how I spell... naughty.

However, because he loved Muriel and didn't want to upset her, he ended up taking a seat right next to Fred, who kept staring at him in that strange way.

Eustace came down the stairs and half-said, half-muttered:

"Gotta go to the hardware-store and get the... you know, fix the bathroom door! So don't try shuttin' it, 'cause you won't be able to get it open."

"Eustace," Muriel called. "Our guest is here. Say hello to Fred."

At last, Fred turned his attention away from Courage and looked over his shoulder at Eustace, who was on his way out of the door. The Smile grew even wider.

After a few seconds of everlasting silence, Eustace went to the sofa and sat down next to Fred and Courage, said "Yeah..." and pulled up a newspaper. As he began reading, he added "Hiya" to Fred and (though mostly to himself), "Freak!"

Courage was about to look back up at Fred's face when something caught his attention: what seemed like some sort of wristband was just barely showing from under a green sleeve, and when Courage decided to have a closer look at it, he discovered that it said:

HOME FOR FREAKY BARBERS
CALL 555-1234

This was quite unsettling for poor Courage, and he tried to warn Muriel by doing things such as jumping up and down, waving his small arms/front legs around, saying something incomprehensible, but none of it had any effect.

"Courage, shush now," she said, and looked at Fred before continuing. "You must be exhausted, Fred, dear. Would you like to freshen up?"

"Yes," he said. "Been quite a trip, it has."

"Show Fred the bathroom, please, Courage."

Courage let out a high-pitched whine that sounded very much like a 'no', and moved around uncomfortably, even resorting to such measures as pulling his own ears while shaking his head.

Muriel's only comment was: "Such a fuss. This rudeness won't do!" And the small gesture of waving a finger at the dog.

"Okay, I'll do it!" said Courage, well aware that none of the people in the room understood what he was saying. "But I won't like it!"

He then proceeded to lead Fred upstairs, hoping to high heavens that nothing out of the usual was going to happen. Downstairs, Eustace took this as his cue to leave as well. "Okay, I'm going," he said. "... Freak."

Just before he shut the front door behind him, Muriel remembered something: "Eustace dear, could you do me a favour? I forgot to give Fred fresh towels. Would you bring him some?"

Eustace made a face at her and the stack of towels she was holding in her arms.

However, he went upstairs with them, finding Courage opening the bathroom door for Fred. Eustace handed Courage the towels. "You give 'em to the freak!" he said and pushed poor Courage into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him (all under loud protests from Courage).

"Whoops."

Courage screamed. A scream of pure terror, the kind of fear that very few people ever experience in their lives. Courage was a dog and didn't count as people, which was probably one of the reasons that he so often was confronted with this particular kind of fear. Eustace just pressed his ear against the closed door and laughed quietly.

A concerned Muriel soon got up there with her husband and said "I heard the door slam?"

"The door slammed," Eustace explained.

"Oh."

In the bathroom, Courage was desperately pulling at the doorknob, wanting nothing more than to get out and have a fairly normal day for once. Fred, who, for lack of other chairs, was sitting on the lid of the toilet, smiled 'warmly' at him.

("Well," said Eustace, "I guess I better get it," and walked away. Muriel leaned towards the door and said "Now, don't you boys worry! Eustace will be back soon to get the door open!")

Courage was shaking with terror.

Alone was I, with tender Courage,
and all his fur, his furry furrage,
which, I say, did encourage,
me, to be... quite naughty.

"Courage," said Fred, and Courage jumped; because he hadn't been expecting Fred to be talking to him. "Your hair..."

The poor dog gasped. "It reminds me of the first time I knew just how I felt about... hair," said Fred, stood up, pulled the turquoise piece of plastic-fabric that was hanging around the shower area down from its hangers, and kept smiling as he with slow steps walked closer and closer to Courage.

It was a day, I'd not forget,
the day that I first met my pet,
oh what a lovely gift to get,

Courage had been placed on the toilet and was still shaking with fear.

I'd never felt so... naughty.

Fred wrapped the fabric around Courage's neck.

My fuzzy friend, is what he was,
this darling little ball of fuzz,

He searched for a short while in his bag and found a large electric shaver. He clicked a little button on it, and it started to buzz quietly. Courage made a move, trying to see if he could possibly escape, but Fred held him back, still smiling.

And oh, such fuzz, such fuzz, it does,
demand, that I... be naughty.

He looked at me, his fetching eyes,
and fetching fur did hypnotize,
and filled with joy, and filled with sighs,
and that's when I got... naughty.

As Fred had been reliving this time of joy, he had been staring into nothing and so he hadn't noticed Courage hiding. In the toilet. Of course, Fred just smiled, happy as ever, and pulled up the scared dog, telling him "Now now; you shouldn't play in the toilet." Parts of Courage's head were already shaved. Yes, Fred had managed to be a little naughty during his personal session of nostalgia.

(Right outside, Muriel was sitting in her chair, knitting. "Don't worry, boys," she said. "Eustace should be at the hardware-store by now."

She didn't know, of course, that Eustace was sitting in his truck, reading the papers.)

Fred gave Courage a small shake to get him somewhat dry from having been hiding in the toilet.

This dripping hair, this droopy curl,
unfold sweet memories of a girl,

With a smile on his face, Fred walked to the window, stared out at the blue sky and let himself remember.

whose tresses, oh, they'd twist and twirl,
and tempt me to be... naughty.

Barbara, my love was named,
and her fair hair, a mane untamed,
until one evening, I'm ashamed,
I got a little... naughty.

The electric shaver hummed happily as it danced over Courage's fur. The remaining hair on his head, the fur on his stomach that he so loved being scratched on. He tried screaming, but no sound came out, and it didn't matter because the shaver and the smile blocked out everything else.

The look upon my young love's face,
was sweet as lace,
but in this case,

A click on the button, and the buzzing stopped.

I realized she... needed space.

Fred, now standing at the window again, claimed: "I never more was naughty. Well," he added, and for the first time the smile didn't seem friendly; but cruel and sadistic. "Maybe not never..."

The smile disappeared for a fraction of a second when Fred realised that Courage was trying to crawl into the pipe through the sink. It returned immediately as he pulled the dig out of there. Courage was completely shaven from his 'waist' and up. He, Courage, was placed on the toilet yet again, but ran towards the door where he could hear Muriel asking if everything was alright. He screamed, howled, squeaked, scratched at the door, did everything he could to get her to understand that no, everything was far from alright.

"Eustace should be back any moment now," she said.

Courage didn't want to face the truth: that there was no way out. So he still fought as if his life depended on it when Fred, with a wide and happy smile, reached out for him.

(Meanwhile, Eustace was having fun at the beach.)

The dear dog held a phone in his hand, trying to get a better look on Fred's wristband as he attempted to phone the 'Home for Freaky Barbers'. He ended up ripping it off without Fred noticing, as he was too busy shaving Courage.

Dear 'Cur', your fur and fleece remind,
of nothing found in human kind,
but for one fellow who did find
me to be... in a certain mood.

Into my shop he walked one day
with bush above, and beard bouquet.
'That's no toupee' I pray, 'no way'.
I could help but be... you know.

I'd never seen such hair before,
his bangs they sang, his neck it beckoned.
Eyebrows, armpits, all were reckoned.
Soon I figured: 'what the heck' and
guess how I was... naughty.

Muriel couldn't hear her dog's screams of terror, since she'd moved the television upstairs and was busy watching her favourite show.

One of the last small spots of fur was shaven off, and Courage fell to the floor while Fred twirled around in bliss. Courage seized his chance and pressed the number 555-1234 into the phone. He whispered quickly and managed to hear the promise of help before he was pulled away by Fred's hand.

There was hope.

(There would've been even more hope if Eustace hadn't been asleep at the cinema.)

Courage was now sitting on the toilet for what would hopefully be the last time. Fred had placed himself at the edge of the bathtub and was motioning for Courage to come over. Courage looked at the last fur on his body; his tail, and whined while covering it protectively. He was rather fond of his tail.

Fred nodded and kept on smiling.

Courage screamed.

"Sweet pooch, afraid I'll shave your tail?" Fred asked. "Why now, that would be weird!"

There was a sound.

Something other than the buzzing and the screaming.

Sirens.

Fred clicked the button on the shaver, Courage went quiet, and the sirens were then the only noise to be heard. To Courage, it was beautiful. To Fred... well, it made him smile. He got up and went to the window once more, glancing down to find a familiar sight.

If you had stood outside at that moment, you would have heard a police-officer say "Surround the area! Cut the power! We don't want anyone getting shaved in there!"

"So ends our little story," said Fred to the officers below him, to himself, to courage, and to generally a lot of things.

Courage sighed, relieved beyond belief. "What took them so long?" he asked himself.

There was a bang. The door was being knocked down. After two more attempts, two large men in blue uniforms came in, wrapped Fred in a straitjacket, and lead him outside.

But then my landlords did resume
to free me from that porcelain tomb,

Muriel waved at Fred as the door to the truck/rubber cell closed.

and ferry to a private room,
your hero

For the last time (for now), the smile turned into a grin. And a quite large and disturbing one at that.

ever doughty.

"What a lovely visit!" said Muriel. "Too bad Eustace didn't get to say goodbye."

The truck/rubber cell started moving and Fred looked happily at his loving family.

Goodbye dear aunt, I'll miss your farm,
and Eustace's ebullient charm,
and farewell Courage, what's the harm,
if I was slightly... naughty.

Courage looked at himself and discovered something he hadn't noticed: right next to his tail, three little words were 'written' in his own fur. Or rather, Fred had 'written' them there by not shaving those exact spots. When one looked closely at the words, one would see that they said:

With love,
Fred

A/N: I know I skipped some lines, but I'd rather leave it out than get it wrong. Leave a review to tell me if I managed to capture the creepy atmosphere, please? A lot of the horror in this show, I think, (and particularly this episode) depends on the music, so I'm a little nervous that I didn't quite catch it. And yes, I let the flashbacks... speak for themselves, heh.

I think I'll do 'The Great Fussili' next, but nothing's certain yet.

If you want to, do a youtube search for 'Freaky Fred' and the episode pops up as, I believe, the first one.