-Squee-
"Todd? TODD!" The teacher yelled. Squee jumped. "What are you so absorbed in?" The teacher's name was Mr. Martinez, and he was cold and unforgiving.
Squee, shaking, showed the teacher the story he was writing. It had a picture drawn to go along with it – a picture of a little boy quite like himself, but with wings, flying with angel-looking creatures.
"Creative," the teacher said. Squee smiled. "But class is no time for thinking. You should listen, and memorize the proper fact required to go ahead in your education. Now, for you're stupidity, you must memorize the names of students who borrowed this book in the past, and the years issued. You will be quizzed on it, tomorrow. Don't forget." Mr. Martinez then walked to the front of the classroom and droned on about something useless in later life. Squee allowed his mind to wander, plotting his newly forming story. Finally, the lunch bell rang, and Squee ran as fast as his small legs could take him to the cafeteria.
He got in the lunch line and got some meatloaf. It wiggled unhealthily. Squee barely had time to wonder if it was actual food or just a food-like substance that the school board decided to feed them to cut back on budget, when he noticed someone waving at him franticly from a table. Squee recognized him by his overly large head. It was Dib.
Squee looked at him cautiously, then walked toward the table and put his plate down next to Dib. Across from him, a girl with purple hair played with a Game Slave 2. "Wow," Squee said, and leaned forward to watch her over her shoulder.
"What do you want?" the girl asked through gritted teeth.
"You're good at video games," Squee said, his eyes wide, watching her play. "Much better then me. Daddy says I have bad hand-eye coordination, whatever that means. He also says that when if I ever play video games I should play them in the dark. He said it would make my eyes better."
Even Gaz paused her game and looked at the boy with sympathy. Dib chose to say something, though. "No, Squee, that puts a strain on your eyes and makes it hard to see."
"Oh," Squee said, and went back to looking over Gaz's shoulder. "Keep playing," he urged, "I like watching."
Gaz grinned, actually taking a liking to this boy, for the first time in her life. She held out her hand. "My name is Gaz," she said. Squee took her hand and shook it.
"I'm Squee."
"Welcome to hell," Gaz said, "a.k.a. Skool." She un-paused the game and was instantly absorbed in the flashing lights and computer-sounding hum.
-Dib-
Dib looked at his sister with admiring. He was glad that Gaz was being nice to the poor boy sitting next to him. Gaz didn't like too many people and sometimes she was downright violent. But there was something about this boy. Something about this strange, mysterious, sensitive little boy. . . .
The bell rang, jolting Dib's senses. He noticed he had barely taken a bite of his food, but he didn't care. The food wasn't exactly food. He stared at his spaghetti and ketchup, trying to remember when the Skool's budget wasn't enough to buy the sauce, and sighed. He threw it in the trash, advising Squee to do the same. Squee, even though he hadn't a bite to eat, heeded Dib's advice.
Class was a living hell for Dib. He sat there, doodling, with Miss Bitters droning on in the background. He studied his picture through one squinted eye. Zim, his decapitated head screaming, stared back at him. Then, suddenly, he heard his name called.
"Dib," Miss Bitters was saying, "Dib, you're wanted in the office." When Dib looked around the classroom he noticed, with predictability, that Zim's chair was empty. Despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, he put a determined look on his face, hoping that would help change his feelings. He left the classroom and walked down the long hallway heading toward the office.
He opened the door to the office, and noticed that the secretary who was sitting there was a different one then usual. He also noticed the sparks she made when she moved. Obviously yet another atrocious robot made by Zim. "Right i-in there l-little boy." The robot stuttered horribly. It pointed toward a door, which Dib promptly walked through. Zim was, of course, standing in there, facing opposite Dib, his hands folded behind his back.
"What do you want THIS time, Zim?" Dib asked, trying to sound exasperated and managing to keep the tremor out of his voice.
"I want what I have always wanted." Zim said, turning around. "World domination," he whispered. He then faced Dib. "But one person has told me all which I need to know in order to take over this filthy, stinking planet. You do realize that no matter what you do, Earth is doomed, don't you?"
"Not if I stop you."
Zim smiled. "Such a cocky Earth worm baby you are. But I mean even if you DO stop me."
"What do you mean?"
With a sudden movement, Zim jumped up and landed on top of the principals desk, his legs bent and one arm balancing him, much like what he once did in Bloaty's Pizza Hog.
"Even if you stop me, the human race is doomed. Doomed because of their own stupidity and shallowness. No matter what either of us do, this planet is done for."
"Is that what you called me in here to say? That we're doomed?"
Zim jumped from the desk and stood right in front of Dib, facing him. "Yes." He said. "Exactly."
-Gir-
Zim strode through the front door of his house. "Welcome home, son." He walked toward the TV, where he found Gir sitting, right in front of it, barely an inch from the eye of a character on Enemies, a very popular show that Gir recently got hooked on.
"Gir!" Zim cried. Gir stood up and saluted.
"Yes, master!" His eyes turned back to blue and he sad down with his tongue sticking happily out of a corner of his mouth as he watched the people on TV argue about a chicken. Zim sauntered to the back of the TV and unplugged it. Gir, watching the television seemingly implode in on itself, became absorbed watching the black screen.
"I love this show," he said absentmindedly, not moving his eyes from the blackness, waiting intently for something to happen.
"GIR!" Zim yelled.
"Yeees?"
"Pay attention!" Zim then started rambling on about something Gir wasn't concerned about. Really, who CARES about Earth, Dib, chicken noodle soup, new plans, dancing guacamole, and world domination? Gir turned his attention back to the television, his tongue slipping out yet again and scrunching his face up in happiness making a squeaky noise.
Zim, forgetting he was talking to Gir, let the room, muttering to himself about the same thing he was telling to Gir.
After awhile, the show Gir was watching got boring. There we no hot romances, no weddings, no cheating, no fighting, no cuddle dogs, no robbers, no chocolate cakes and no fun. He jumped up and put on his dog suit. Gir was going for a walk.
He ran out the door and squeaked down the street. He wanted tacos! Oh, how he wanted the tacos! But there was one problem. He didn't know the way to the closest Taco Hell! Oh, Gir's stomach rumbled in despair while he tried to think up a way out of the situation. Wait, he knew what he could do! He would ask the next person he saw, yes!
Picking up his pace, Gir did a little jig while trying to find someone. But, alas, nobody on the street was any smarter then Zim, which meant none of them would know the way to Taco Hell, of that Gir was sure. He passed a guy in a suit talking nervously into a cell phone. "Have them buy," he was saying. "Buy!" Surely that man didn't know anything. He saw a group of younger people up the street discussing a meeting they had with a group called Nation Honors Society. They didn't look very smart, either. Then there was that woman over there . . . her with her strange blue uniform, standing in the middle of the street. A car was coming. She was going to get hit! Yet the car stopped when she held out a hand, then moved when she motioned to it. How silly of her, she would get killed in no time! Gir was immensely disappointed in the people in this town.
Finally, he found what he was looking for! "Hello!" He greeted the rigid, silver being who looked of immense intelligence. "Can you tell me to get to Taco Hell?"
The telephone pole, being inanimate, stayed silent.
Gir's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered. "I love you." He gave the pole a long hug (in which tears fell noisily from his eyes) and ran off down the street screaming.
After an hour of wandering around aimlessly in every direction, he found it. Taco Hell! Just as the pole promised! Gir ran forward toward the building. He observed as a human walked toward the door when it all of a sudden opened FOR him. It was like magic! Gir ran forward for his own turn. He was running so fast he didn't watch where he was going and all of a sudden. . . . SMACK! Gir stumbled back, but still stayed standing. Alas, he had hit the door.
What a predicament he was in! "Blast!" He wailed. "How, oh how, can I trick this door into letting me in!"
A human then walked up behind Gir. "Aw," she said, "what a cute little puppy. Do you wanna go in here?"
"Yes!" Gir exclaimed, crunching his face up in happiness again.
"Sorry, honey, but lookie here." She pointed to a sign on the door. NO DOGS it said. Gir's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Go on home, honey," the woman said, "get a nice dinner there." She then walked into the restaurant.
Gir couldn't believe it. He had been foiled! "Earth must DIE!" He shouted, then went to find his way back home.
-Johnny-
Noodle Boy stood on the street corner, screaming. "EGGS! EGGS! I AM ORGANIC!" He pointed to a dog and screamed loudly that it should quack like the good little biscuit it was. Then a bus ran him over. Johnny, stretching, closed his eyes for a minute. He was already out of ideas, and he had only drawn two rows of pannels! It was going to be a long night.
Deciding to do something completely out of the ordinary, he put on his boots, grabbed his wallet, and decided to go for a walk. It was a chilly autumn day, and Nny wished he had brought a coat. Oh, no matter. He could go cold, it wouldn't kill him.
Walking through town proved to be an experience, indeed. He got to see old people walking slowly, teenage girls parading around in short skits, teenage boys watching them, little kids crying because they wanted that toy and they were so frigging spoiled, and adults smiling to one another in that galling way and asking each other if that display of horrendousness wasn't 'cute'. Yes, Johnny wanted to say, it WASN'T cute. It was horrible, unfathomable, unmentionable! He had to get home. He didn't know why he bothered to come out here anyway. But just as he turned around to head back to his house, he spotted an intriguing-looking place. He didn't know how he missed it the first time. The zany architecture and crazy lights flashing outside made it a tad hard to overlook.
Walking up to it, he saw a short line of people and two bouncers. Ugh, Johnny thought, a nightclub. He turned around to leave, but then heard something odd. It was a screeching sound, like an angry cheerleader. He turned around just in time to see a bouncer refusing to let a group of the short-skit clones admittance. He grinned, and decided to get in line after all. Hey, he thought, who knows? This might be my kind of club. He waited a few minutes, then got to the front of the line. The bouncers, even thought he noticed there were broad and tall, had spiked hair and eyeliner on with an eyebrow ring in one of their eyebrows. The other had a pierced lip. They, to Johnny's great astonishment, stepped aside and let him in. Looking around, he found an empty table and sat down. The club was full of people like him, people who dressed the same way. The "freaks" of the world. His new town was full of them! Grinning, Johnny listened to the not-bad music and nodded his head to the beat, looking around.
He saw girls with pigtails, or short hair, or none at all, with black lipstick, purple or black eye shadow and big Egyptian flourishes around their eyes with eyeliner. He saw guys wearing dresses, or all black, also with eyeliner dancing away with the girls, looking happy and tough at the same time. Johnny wanted to be a part of it, wanted to find one in the crowd who he could sit with, just for the night. All anti-social tendencies flew from his body in that one second, and he stood up to find someone nice. Then, horrified at himself, he sat back down. He shook his head, making all the stupid thoughts fly out of it. It was amazing he got in there at all, why ruin it by making an idiot of himself on the dance floor? Or by introducing himself to some complete asshole? If anyone wanted to talk to him, he'd be there sitting, he was sure of it. They could come over and say something if they wanted, he wasn't about to jump head first into any kind of human interaction at this point in time, that he was certain of.
-Anne-
"Hey," Anne Gwish said to her friend, Lisa. "Check out that idiot over there. He thinks he's so cool; he's got those teenyboppers dancing all around him. Can't he tell they're only, like, eleven?"
"Anne," Lisa said, "that one right there is my little sister's best friend. She's nineteen. And the others are the same age as her."
Anne rolled her eyes. "Still, he has to be at LEAST twenty five." Her friend nodded her head vigorously in agreement.
"Definetly a moron," Lisa added, "thinking he can be cool by putting on some fake piercings and hanging out with the spooky ones." The two girls laughed.
"Yea, that nose stud is COMPLETELY fake!" Anne exclaimed. She loved going to clubs and degrading those around her. It made her feel good about herself, the fact that she was pointing out their faults and not vice- versa. And if they WERE pointing out her faults, they could go to hell. She hated people who judged others on their looks. All in all, she was a complete hypocrite.
"Look at that guy," Lisa whispered. "He looks cool."
Anne snorted. "No way. He looks like he just rolled in off the street."
"I like the rugged look," Lisa argued. "I'm going to go talk to him." She stood up and walked over to the guy in question. "Hi," she said, pulling up a chair next to him. "I'm Lisa."
"And I'm Anne." A voice said behind her. "Anne Gwish." Lisa smirked, not letting Anne see. She knew Anne couldn't stand being left out or letting a friend get a guy and knew she would follow. Anne pulled up a chair beside her friend.
"I'm Johnny," the guy said, looking at them with great interest. Anne caught Lisa's eye and rolled her own.
"What, you've never seen to gorgeous girls before?" Anne asked.
"No," Johnny said, "it's just that I've never seen a preppy hidden so cleverly in a Goth girls clothes and not look awkward."
Lisa burst out laughing. "He's got you there, Anne!" She howled.
Anne got up in a huff and left the table to go to the dance floor and danced her heart out. She'd show that skinny boy who was the prep in Goth's clothes. She'd LOVE to see a prep dance as well as she could. When she looked back over at the table, though, she saw that Johnny and Lisa were laughing. Johnny was also looking right at her. They were laughing at HER. Well, she'd show them!
Anne pushed the guy next to her, who in turn pushed her back and then, little by little; she formed a mosh pit in the middle of the dance floor. She'd LOVE to see a prep make a mosh as expertly as she. But when she looked at Lisa and Johnny she saw they were no longer listening to her. Her "friend" had her back to her and was nodding at something Johnny said. Johnny's eyes stayed on Lisa, filled with good humor. Anne got her stuff and left the club. If she wasn't the center of attention, then she could WALK home. Lisa would have to find someone else to leave with so she wouldn't look stupid. What an idiot, treating her friend like that. She'd have to suffer the consequence of looking not cool.
Anne didn't even stop to think that she lived four miles away from the club and didn't believe in cabbies. If she needed a ride home she would only ride with someone who spoke fluent English. As she walked, it started to rain. It didn't only rain, it poured all over her head. Her elaborate makeup was starting to run. Anne started jogging across a street to get inside to the 24/7, but on the way, she slipped and fell smack in a puddle. Cold and shivering, she walked to the door, only to see a sign. "Back at 9:30" it said. She looked at her watch. 11:49. Great. It was obvious that the owner wasn't coming back anytime soon. Anne was miles away from home with no ride, no friends to get a ride from, and no extra hairspray to fix the atrocious mess that was once her perfectly situated hair. She narrowed her eyes. She was stranded.
-Devi-
She was at her house with, amazingly enough, Tess, the odd girl who Nny had kidnapped. The night before they stayed up late discussing what went on with Johnny. Tess had agreed that Nny was too cute to be a killer. Life sucked. Only the ugly ones seemed worthy to date. Not that it was a big problem, but Devi wouldn't mind it if her next boyfriend was really cute and NICE instead of really cute and psycho, or really ugly but perfect for her. That is, if she was going to HAVE a new boyfriend, which was looking less and less likely as the days passed. Tess and her shared a sort of bond, what with the traumatic experiences in their lives, and the one day together they exchanged phone numbers and promised to keep in touch. Sure enough, Devi found herself calling Tess the next night and asking her to come over, bringing The Crow so she can see what the fuss was all about.
Tess popped the tape in the VCR, Devi finished making the popcorn and brought in a few Pepsis and plunked herself down on the couch next to her new friend. The movie proved to be captivating and extraordinary and sad all at once. Devi, although she was normally a comedy girl, liked it. She and Tess spent quite some time discussing it after it was over, and Devi found herself really liking the girl.
"Oh jeez," Tess said, looking up after a while of talking. "It's two AM. I hate driving home this late at night, what with all the drunks and stuff."
"You can stay over," Devi found herself volunteering. "I have an extra bedroom."
Tess nodded. "Sounds cool." She then grinned. "Slumber party. When do we get to play truth or dare?"
"Why, right now of course. I ask first. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"I dare you to stop playing this game." Tess threw a pillow at her. After they calmed down a bit, there was a bit of silence. Devi was lying down on her back on the couch, Tess sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"Tess?" Devi asked.
"Yeah?"
"Would you think I was a stupid idiot, not to mention a horrible person, if I took Nny back?"
Tess thought. "Actually, now that you've asked me, I think you'd be horrible if you DIDN'T let him back."
Devi rolled over and let her arm and head hang off the side of the couch. "And why is that?"
"You obviously like the guy," Tess said, looking at Devi thoughtfully. "He obviously means something to you."
"How is it so obvious?"
"You're thinking of taking him back. I think THAT is the biggest clue any girl can give."
"No I'm not!"
"Then why did you ask me about it?" Tess grinned smugly. "You should give him a second chance. Everyone makes mistakes."
Devi sighed and rolled to her back again, then sat up. "But he tried to KILL me. It's not as if I caught him necking with another girl while we were going steady. We weren't EVEN going steady! Or it's not like he chews with his mouth open or something. He tried to KILL me! It's not a simple mistake!"
"Or was it?"
Devi raised an eyebrow in Tess's general direction.
"Was it just a mistake?"
"Of course not!"
"He was a sick guy, Devi. You saw the healthy side of him when you went on that date. Now, that sickness seems to have been cured. I think he's better. He seems completely aware of what's going on and he seems MUCH more stable then last time I saw him, eyes darting around, making quick movements, always looking over his shoulder, watching his own back, not trusting anyone else to do that for him. Don't you want to give that healthy, funny, fascinating guy another chance to get to your heart?"
Devi grinned, shaking her head. "Fine then, fairy godmother, I'll give Prince Charming a second try. But this time, he better not make me run away at midnight."
"Not to worry, Cinderella," Tess said. "Just find out the date for the ball."
"Todd? TODD!" The teacher yelled. Squee jumped. "What are you so absorbed in?" The teacher's name was Mr. Martinez, and he was cold and unforgiving.
Squee, shaking, showed the teacher the story he was writing. It had a picture drawn to go along with it – a picture of a little boy quite like himself, but with wings, flying with angel-looking creatures.
"Creative," the teacher said. Squee smiled. "But class is no time for thinking. You should listen, and memorize the proper fact required to go ahead in your education. Now, for you're stupidity, you must memorize the names of students who borrowed this book in the past, and the years issued. You will be quizzed on it, tomorrow. Don't forget." Mr. Martinez then walked to the front of the classroom and droned on about something useless in later life. Squee allowed his mind to wander, plotting his newly forming story. Finally, the lunch bell rang, and Squee ran as fast as his small legs could take him to the cafeteria.
He got in the lunch line and got some meatloaf. It wiggled unhealthily. Squee barely had time to wonder if it was actual food or just a food-like substance that the school board decided to feed them to cut back on budget, when he noticed someone waving at him franticly from a table. Squee recognized him by his overly large head. It was Dib.
Squee looked at him cautiously, then walked toward the table and put his plate down next to Dib. Across from him, a girl with purple hair played with a Game Slave 2. "Wow," Squee said, and leaned forward to watch her over her shoulder.
"What do you want?" the girl asked through gritted teeth.
"You're good at video games," Squee said, his eyes wide, watching her play. "Much better then me. Daddy says I have bad hand-eye coordination, whatever that means. He also says that when if I ever play video games I should play them in the dark. He said it would make my eyes better."
Even Gaz paused her game and looked at the boy with sympathy. Dib chose to say something, though. "No, Squee, that puts a strain on your eyes and makes it hard to see."
"Oh," Squee said, and went back to looking over Gaz's shoulder. "Keep playing," he urged, "I like watching."
Gaz grinned, actually taking a liking to this boy, for the first time in her life. She held out her hand. "My name is Gaz," she said. Squee took her hand and shook it.
"I'm Squee."
"Welcome to hell," Gaz said, "a.k.a. Skool." She un-paused the game and was instantly absorbed in the flashing lights and computer-sounding hum.
-Dib-
Dib looked at his sister with admiring. He was glad that Gaz was being nice to the poor boy sitting next to him. Gaz didn't like too many people and sometimes she was downright violent. But there was something about this boy. Something about this strange, mysterious, sensitive little boy. . . .
The bell rang, jolting Dib's senses. He noticed he had barely taken a bite of his food, but he didn't care. The food wasn't exactly food. He stared at his spaghetti and ketchup, trying to remember when the Skool's budget wasn't enough to buy the sauce, and sighed. He threw it in the trash, advising Squee to do the same. Squee, even though he hadn't a bite to eat, heeded Dib's advice.
Class was a living hell for Dib. He sat there, doodling, with Miss Bitters droning on in the background. He studied his picture through one squinted eye. Zim, his decapitated head screaming, stared back at him. Then, suddenly, he heard his name called.
"Dib," Miss Bitters was saying, "Dib, you're wanted in the office." When Dib looked around the classroom he noticed, with predictability, that Zim's chair was empty. Despite the sinking feeling in his stomach, he put a determined look on his face, hoping that would help change his feelings. He left the classroom and walked down the long hallway heading toward the office.
He opened the door to the office, and noticed that the secretary who was sitting there was a different one then usual. He also noticed the sparks she made when she moved. Obviously yet another atrocious robot made by Zim. "Right i-in there l-little boy." The robot stuttered horribly. It pointed toward a door, which Dib promptly walked through. Zim was, of course, standing in there, facing opposite Dib, his hands folded behind his back.
"What do you want THIS time, Zim?" Dib asked, trying to sound exasperated and managing to keep the tremor out of his voice.
"I want what I have always wanted." Zim said, turning around. "World domination," he whispered. He then faced Dib. "But one person has told me all which I need to know in order to take over this filthy, stinking planet. You do realize that no matter what you do, Earth is doomed, don't you?"
"Not if I stop you."
Zim smiled. "Such a cocky Earth worm baby you are. But I mean even if you DO stop me."
"What do you mean?"
With a sudden movement, Zim jumped up and landed on top of the principals desk, his legs bent and one arm balancing him, much like what he once did in Bloaty's Pizza Hog.
"Even if you stop me, the human race is doomed. Doomed because of their own stupidity and shallowness. No matter what either of us do, this planet is done for."
"Is that what you called me in here to say? That we're doomed?"
Zim jumped from the desk and stood right in front of Dib, facing him. "Yes." He said. "Exactly."
-Gir-
Zim strode through the front door of his house. "Welcome home, son." He walked toward the TV, where he found Gir sitting, right in front of it, barely an inch from the eye of a character on Enemies, a very popular show that Gir recently got hooked on.
"Gir!" Zim cried. Gir stood up and saluted.
"Yes, master!" His eyes turned back to blue and he sad down with his tongue sticking happily out of a corner of his mouth as he watched the people on TV argue about a chicken. Zim sauntered to the back of the TV and unplugged it. Gir, watching the television seemingly implode in on itself, became absorbed watching the black screen.
"I love this show," he said absentmindedly, not moving his eyes from the blackness, waiting intently for something to happen.
"GIR!" Zim yelled.
"Yeees?"
"Pay attention!" Zim then started rambling on about something Gir wasn't concerned about. Really, who CARES about Earth, Dib, chicken noodle soup, new plans, dancing guacamole, and world domination? Gir turned his attention back to the television, his tongue slipping out yet again and scrunching his face up in happiness making a squeaky noise.
Zim, forgetting he was talking to Gir, let the room, muttering to himself about the same thing he was telling to Gir.
After awhile, the show Gir was watching got boring. There we no hot romances, no weddings, no cheating, no fighting, no cuddle dogs, no robbers, no chocolate cakes and no fun. He jumped up and put on his dog suit. Gir was going for a walk.
He ran out the door and squeaked down the street. He wanted tacos! Oh, how he wanted the tacos! But there was one problem. He didn't know the way to the closest Taco Hell! Oh, Gir's stomach rumbled in despair while he tried to think up a way out of the situation. Wait, he knew what he could do! He would ask the next person he saw, yes!
Picking up his pace, Gir did a little jig while trying to find someone. But, alas, nobody on the street was any smarter then Zim, which meant none of them would know the way to Taco Hell, of that Gir was sure. He passed a guy in a suit talking nervously into a cell phone. "Have them buy," he was saying. "Buy!" Surely that man didn't know anything. He saw a group of younger people up the street discussing a meeting they had with a group called Nation Honors Society. They didn't look very smart, either. Then there was that woman over there . . . her with her strange blue uniform, standing in the middle of the street. A car was coming. She was going to get hit! Yet the car stopped when she held out a hand, then moved when she motioned to it. How silly of her, she would get killed in no time! Gir was immensely disappointed in the people in this town.
Finally, he found what he was looking for! "Hello!" He greeted the rigid, silver being who looked of immense intelligence. "Can you tell me to get to Taco Hell?"
The telephone pole, being inanimate, stayed silent.
Gir's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered. "I love you." He gave the pole a long hug (in which tears fell noisily from his eyes) and ran off down the street screaming.
After an hour of wandering around aimlessly in every direction, he found it. Taco Hell! Just as the pole promised! Gir ran forward toward the building. He observed as a human walked toward the door when it all of a sudden opened FOR him. It was like magic! Gir ran forward for his own turn. He was running so fast he didn't watch where he was going and all of a sudden. . . . SMACK! Gir stumbled back, but still stayed standing. Alas, he had hit the door.
What a predicament he was in! "Blast!" He wailed. "How, oh how, can I trick this door into letting me in!"
A human then walked up behind Gir. "Aw," she said, "what a cute little puppy. Do you wanna go in here?"
"Yes!" Gir exclaimed, crunching his face up in happiness again.
"Sorry, honey, but lookie here." She pointed to a sign on the door. NO DOGS it said. Gir's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Go on home, honey," the woman said, "get a nice dinner there." She then walked into the restaurant.
Gir couldn't believe it. He had been foiled! "Earth must DIE!" He shouted, then went to find his way back home.
-Johnny-
Noodle Boy stood on the street corner, screaming. "EGGS! EGGS! I AM ORGANIC!" He pointed to a dog and screamed loudly that it should quack like the good little biscuit it was. Then a bus ran him over. Johnny, stretching, closed his eyes for a minute. He was already out of ideas, and he had only drawn two rows of pannels! It was going to be a long night.
Deciding to do something completely out of the ordinary, he put on his boots, grabbed his wallet, and decided to go for a walk. It was a chilly autumn day, and Nny wished he had brought a coat. Oh, no matter. He could go cold, it wouldn't kill him.
Walking through town proved to be an experience, indeed. He got to see old people walking slowly, teenage girls parading around in short skits, teenage boys watching them, little kids crying because they wanted that toy and they were so frigging spoiled, and adults smiling to one another in that galling way and asking each other if that display of horrendousness wasn't 'cute'. Yes, Johnny wanted to say, it WASN'T cute. It was horrible, unfathomable, unmentionable! He had to get home. He didn't know why he bothered to come out here anyway. But just as he turned around to head back to his house, he spotted an intriguing-looking place. He didn't know how he missed it the first time. The zany architecture and crazy lights flashing outside made it a tad hard to overlook.
Walking up to it, he saw a short line of people and two bouncers. Ugh, Johnny thought, a nightclub. He turned around to leave, but then heard something odd. It was a screeching sound, like an angry cheerleader. He turned around just in time to see a bouncer refusing to let a group of the short-skit clones admittance. He grinned, and decided to get in line after all. Hey, he thought, who knows? This might be my kind of club. He waited a few minutes, then got to the front of the line. The bouncers, even thought he noticed there were broad and tall, had spiked hair and eyeliner on with an eyebrow ring in one of their eyebrows. The other had a pierced lip. They, to Johnny's great astonishment, stepped aside and let him in. Looking around, he found an empty table and sat down. The club was full of people like him, people who dressed the same way. The "freaks" of the world. His new town was full of them! Grinning, Johnny listened to the not-bad music and nodded his head to the beat, looking around.
He saw girls with pigtails, or short hair, or none at all, with black lipstick, purple or black eye shadow and big Egyptian flourishes around their eyes with eyeliner. He saw guys wearing dresses, or all black, also with eyeliner dancing away with the girls, looking happy and tough at the same time. Johnny wanted to be a part of it, wanted to find one in the crowd who he could sit with, just for the night. All anti-social tendencies flew from his body in that one second, and he stood up to find someone nice. Then, horrified at himself, he sat back down. He shook his head, making all the stupid thoughts fly out of it. It was amazing he got in there at all, why ruin it by making an idiot of himself on the dance floor? Or by introducing himself to some complete asshole? If anyone wanted to talk to him, he'd be there sitting, he was sure of it. They could come over and say something if they wanted, he wasn't about to jump head first into any kind of human interaction at this point in time, that he was certain of.
-Anne-
"Hey," Anne Gwish said to her friend, Lisa. "Check out that idiot over there. He thinks he's so cool; he's got those teenyboppers dancing all around him. Can't he tell they're only, like, eleven?"
"Anne," Lisa said, "that one right there is my little sister's best friend. She's nineteen. And the others are the same age as her."
Anne rolled her eyes. "Still, he has to be at LEAST twenty five." Her friend nodded her head vigorously in agreement.
"Definetly a moron," Lisa added, "thinking he can be cool by putting on some fake piercings and hanging out with the spooky ones." The two girls laughed.
"Yea, that nose stud is COMPLETELY fake!" Anne exclaimed. She loved going to clubs and degrading those around her. It made her feel good about herself, the fact that she was pointing out their faults and not vice- versa. And if they WERE pointing out her faults, they could go to hell. She hated people who judged others on their looks. All in all, she was a complete hypocrite.
"Look at that guy," Lisa whispered. "He looks cool."
Anne snorted. "No way. He looks like he just rolled in off the street."
"I like the rugged look," Lisa argued. "I'm going to go talk to him." She stood up and walked over to the guy in question. "Hi," she said, pulling up a chair next to him. "I'm Lisa."
"And I'm Anne." A voice said behind her. "Anne Gwish." Lisa smirked, not letting Anne see. She knew Anne couldn't stand being left out or letting a friend get a guy and knew she would follow. Anne pulled up a chair beside her friend.
"I'm Johnny," the guy said, looking at them with great interest. Anne caught Lisa's eye and rolled her own.
"What, you've never seen to gorgeous girls before?" Anne asked.
"No," Johnny said, "it's just that I've never seen a preppy hidden so cleverly in a Goth girls clothes and not look awkward."
Lisa burst out laughing. "He's got you there, Anne!" She howled.
Anne got up in a huff and left the table to go to the dance floor and danced her heart out. She'd show that skinny boy who was the prep in Goth's clothes. She'd LOVE to see a prep dance as well as she could. When she looked back over at the table, though, she saw that Johnny and Lisa were laughing. Johnny was also looking right at her. They were laughing at HER. Well, she'd show them!
Anne pushed the guy next to her, who in turn pushed her back and then, little by little; she formed a mosh pit in the middle of the dance floor. She'd LOVE to see a prep make a mosh as expertly as she. But when she looked at Lisa and Johnny she saw they were no longer listening to her. Her "friend" had her back to her and was nodding at something Johnny said. Johnny's eyes stayed on Lisa, filled with good humor. Anne got her stuff and left the club. If she wasn't the center of attention, then she could WALK home. Lisa would have to find someone else to leave with so she wouldn't look stupid. What an idiot, treating her friend like that. She'd have to suffer the consequence of looking not cool.
Anne didn't even stop to think that she lived four miles away from the club and didn't believe in cabbies. If she needed a ride home she would only ride with someone who spoke fluent English. As she walked, it started to rain. It didn't only rain, it poured all over her head. Her elaborate makeup was starting to run. Anne started jogging across a street to get inside to the 24/7, but on the way, she slipped and fell smack in a puddle. Cold and shivering, she walked to the door, only to see a sign. "Back at 9:30" it said. She looked at her watch. 11:49. Great. It was obvious that the owner wasn't coming back anytime soon. Anne was miles away from home with no ride, no friends to get a ride from, and no extra hairspray to fix the atrocious mess that was once her perfectly situated hair. She narrowed her eyes. She was stranded.
-Devi-
She was at her house with, amazingly enough, Tess, the odd girl who Nny had kidnapped. The night before they stayed up late discussing what went on with Johnny. Tess had agreed that Nny was too cute to be a killer. Life sucked. Only the ugly ones seemed worthy to date. Not that it was a big problem, but Devi wouldn't mind it if her next boyfriend was really cute and NICE instead of really cute and psycho, or really ugly but perfect for her. That is, if she was going to HAVE a new boyfriend, which was looking less and less likely as the days passed. Tess and her shared a sort of bond, what with the traumatic experiences in their lives, and the one day together they exchanged phone numbers and promised to keep in touch. Sure enough, Devi found herself calling Tess the next night and asking her to come over, bringing The Crow so she can see what the fuss was all about.
Tess popped the tape in the VCR, Devi finished making the popcorn and brought in a few Pepsis and plunked herself down on the couch next to her new friend. The movie proved to be captivating and extraordinary and sad all at once. Devi, although she was normally a comedy girl, liked it. She and Tess spent quite some time discussing it after it was over, and Devi found herself really liking the girl.
"Oh jeez," Tess said, looking up after a while of talking. "It's two AM. I hate driving home this late at night, what with all the drunks and stuff."
"You can stay over," Devi found herself volunteering. "I have an extra bedroom."
Tess nodded. "Sounds cool." She then grinned. "Slumber party. When do we get to play truth or dare?"
"Why, right now of course. I ask first. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"I dare you to stop playing this game." Tess threw a pillow at her. After they calmed down a bit, there was a bit of silence. Devi was lying down on her back on the couch, Tess sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"Tess?" Devi asked.
"Yeah?"
"Would you think I was a stupid idiot, not to mention a horrible person, if I took Nny back?"
Tess thought. "Actually, now that you've asked me, I think you'd be horrible if you DIDN'T let him back."
Devi rolled over and let her arm and head hang off the side of the couch. "And why is that?"
"You obviously like the guy," Tess said, looking at Devi thoughtfully. "He obviously means something to you."
"How is it so obvious?"
"You're thinking of taking him back. I think THAT is the biggest clue any girl can give."
"No I'm not!"
"Then why did you ask me about it?" Tess grinned smugly. "You should give him a second chance. Everyone makes mistakes."
Devi sighed and rolled to her back again, then sat up. "But he tried to KILL me. It's not as if I caught him necking with another girl while we were going steady. We weren't EVEN going steady! Or it's not like he chews with his mouth open or something. He tried to KILL me! It's not a simple mistake!"
"Or was it?"
Devi raised an eyebrow in Tess's general direction.
"Was it just a mistake?"
"Of course not!"
"He was a sick guy, Devi. You saw the healthy side of him when you went on that date. Now, that sickness seems to have been cured. I think he's better. He seems completely aware of what's going on and he seems MUCH more stable then last time I saw him, eyes darting around, making quick movements, always looking over his shoulder, watching his own back, not trusting anyone else to do that for him. Don't you want to give that healthy, funny, fascinating guy another chance to get to your heart?"
Devi grinned, shaking her head. "Fine then, fairy godmother, I'll give Prince Charming a second try. But this time, he better not make me run away at midnight."
"Not to worry, Cinderella," Tess said. "Just find out the date for the ball."