I got bored, so I decided to gift you all with a nice, insane Wheatley : D. I've always loved insane characters, they're way more interesting than sane ones. That being said, Wheatley being insane didn't exactly interest me as much as it made me reel back in my chair out of fear and ask "why?" On a side note, according to MS word, this document, minues the AN, has 668 words. COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT

PS. Look for the tiny little reference to my other Wheat-centered stories, you'll see~

Nothing ever went right for Wheatley; noooooo. Why would anything ever go right for him? Maybe this "God" person enjoyed watching the personality core try so hard only to fail horribly. If "God" was anything like humans Wheatley wouldn't doubt it. Humans were selfish, greedy, uncaring, horrible things whose only real achievement was building the facility and the machines that ran it. Obviously they couldn't run the entire facility on their own, that was why they made Her.

The core snorted, a lot of good She did running the place- taken down by a bloody human of all things! Now, Wheatley knew that human, that selfish, insensitive, arrogant human that took Her down, and honestly he wasn't impressed with her anymore. What could this little girl-this "Chell"—do to him? He was in control of everything, anything he wanted he could have. For once he had succeeded in something, the euphoria of the feeling made him want to pull "God" from his pedestal and laugh right in his face. He had more important things to do, however, like try and find out why Chell wasn't doing these tests correctly anymore; they weren't hard! A baby could solve these tests! And yet she just pranced about from one test chamber to the other, probably having a good laugh with her best friend over how they had found a way around giving Wheatley the solution euphoria he wanted-needed.

If looking through Her video files had taught him anything, "trimming out the fat" was the best way to take care of a problem; and the best way to solve a problem was usually the simplest. Chell would just have to die, wouldn't she? Those two little robots he found would probably give him a stronger reaction anyhow, they were much better than some holier-than-thou, brain-damaged human. Now, how to kill her? He could flood the facility with neurotoxin, but where was the originality in that? That would just be copying Her (perish the thought!), no, he had a plethora of much better ideas to kill Chell. Besides waiting around the five minutes it took for the neurotoxin to take effect would be too boring. Although the idea of seeing her face twist and contort in pain as the toxin destroyed every nerve in her body -see her writhe on the floor in pain- excited him, again, it would be too much like something She would do. And neurotoxin wouldn't kill that useless potato anyway, so Wheatley figured it would be much better to kill two birds with one stone and off them both.

But, oh! There were so many ways that she could die! So many fun little "toys" scattered around the facility he could modify to make them even more deadly! He didn't know where to start. All the ideas cooking in his head almost made him tremble with excitement; there were so many things to choose from!

"Don't! Stop!" Ah, there was that annoying little voice again; he thought he got rid of that. That voice was probably even more irritating than that blasted itch; scratching at the back of his mind and begging-pleading-sobbing that Wheatley stop this. That Chell was his friend. Useless human emotions that came along with the fact his AI was created from the brain-scan of some employee who died a long time ago. No matter how hard he tried to delete that disgustingly human part of his mind, it always came back; gnawing at his thoughts like some sort of parasite. What did it matter to him if Chell died? It didn't, it didn't matter at all. "It DOES matter! She doesn't deserve to-!" Wheatley growled and tuned that annoying little voice out, turning his attention back to monitoring Chell through the cameras; that useless human would get what she deserved in good time, then he could fix the facility and shut that voice up.

For once things were going his way; and he would rather die than let that be taken away from him.