Define Weird
Disclaimer: Still don't own anything, just the insane portion of my brain that comes up with all this crazy crap.
•••000•••
Thinking back on his life Professor John Utonium wasn't ashamed to admit that he had a bit of an odd childhood. Growing up, he had never really fit in with the other kids, they all thought he was weird. At first he had become rebellious because of it, picking on and teasing people to get that attention that he so craved, but after some time and more than a little growing up he stopped caring.
He realized that whether or not people liked him didn't really matter. He was different and he couldn't exactly change that. Especially since he never really understood what was so 'weird' about him.
So maybe he liked doing things outside the box like trying out all kinds of different food combinations before jumping on the most dizzying carnival rides just to see if he would throw up. Maybe he just liked trying to figure out all the words that could rhyme with orange, sure he usually made them all up but who cares? Maybe he thought bugs were cute or preferred big hairy spiders to small fluffy animals? So what if he still couldn't stay in a room with porcelain dolls for more than an hour, he always felt like they were starring at him, he couldn't help it. That's just the way he was, besides, what was their basis for 'weird' anyways?
Even after graduating, becoming a scientist, making discoveries, he still couldn't find the answer to that one question. He would figure it out one day though… eventually.
•••***•••
The Professor sighed quietly, rubbing his eyes as he finally pulled himself away from the vast array of science equipment. He wasn't quite sure as to how long he had spent down in his lab this time but if the heaviness of his eyes and the gurgling of his stomach were any indication he had been here for quite some time.
With a quiet yawn he rolled his chair back, spun it around, and stood up on wobbly legs. He really had been here for a long time if his legs had fallen asleep on him. Making his way slowly across his lab John climbed the stairs and opened the door.
Blinding rays of sunlight filtered into the relatively darkened basement temporarily blinding him. Blinking rapidly he covered his eyes trying to adjust. He could have sworn it was almost nine at night when last he checked.
Stifling another yawn the Professor closed the door behind him, suddenly feeling lethargic, he headed for the kitchen. A nice warm cup of coffee was sure to help him get the energy he would need to make the long trek upstairs and to the shower, as it was he was just too darn tired to do it right then.
"Boyah! In the hole!"
"Yah right, I think you better get your eyes checked."
A pair of voices echoed from the living room off to the right. The Professor didn't dwell long though, at least one of his daughters would always be around the house and more likely than not they would have company over. Besides, this particular voice he recognized, the boy was always over.
"What are you talking about? It's the perfect size."
"No it's not dumb ass! It won't fit."
He wasn't too happy about his little girls use of language but he wasn't about to walk all the way down the hall just to scold her. The smell of fresh brewed coffee in the kitchen was too enticing to ignore.
"Sure it will, just gotta push it in at the right angle."
"Nah dude, I'm pretty sure it won't, it's too big."
John paused for a moment. Their conversation was sounding pretty strange. Then again he didn't really understand teenagers in the recent generations. His sleep deprived mind was probably making a mountain out of a mole hill again.
"No it's not. It'll fit like a glove."
"Butch. It's thick, it's long, and it's got a curve at the end. It. Won't. Fit."
"Well we're never gonna find out if you keep complaining, now hold still already, damn it."
"I swear to god asshole you fuck this up imma cut your dick off."
John immediately made a U turn, half sprinting to the living room doorway, ready to strangle to boy that dared touch his baby girl.
…
"What is going on here?!" The Professor half shouted, gripping onto the door frame so as not to tumble to the floor at his abrupt stop.
The two teenagers in the room jumped at the sudden outburst, Butch tossing a handful of wooden chips into the air as Buttercup dropped a large tangle of them onto the ground. The hollow echo of the wood clattered loudly like dominos as they shot across the floor in every direction similar to a popped water balloon.
Buttercup froze then, her feet dangling over the top of Johns favorite lazy boy chair, head hanging off the foot rest. Butch, whom was sitting in much the same way on the sofa about an arms length away, rolled over and watched as one of the pieces skittered across the floor to stop at Johns feet.
"Professor~!" Buttercup whined, spinning right side up on the couch before folding her arms across her chest and pouting at him. "What'd ya do that for?"
John stooped down, grabbing the little wooden chip and examining it's smooth yet angled surface. Glancing around at all the other bits scattered across the floor and the one in his hand he realized that he was holing a puzzle piece, they were all puzzle pieces and he had just caused his daughter to drop them.
Butch sighed, absently tossing a piece onto the floor. He muttered under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like 'two hours' 'pointless' and 'wasted' before scooping up the two liter bottle of soda on the floor beside him and guzzling it down.
"Sorry sweet heart." The Professor sheepishly scratched at the back of his head, a light flush of pink crawling over his cheeks. "I didn't know you were building a puzzle."
"What else would we be doing?" Buttercup replied, eyeing him suspiciously. "You took away my video games last week."
"Ugh…" John hesitated, reluctant to admit what he originally believed to have heard.
"TV sucks~!" Butch interrupted, flipping through stations, thankfully distracting the raven haired girl from interrogating her father. "There's never anything good on anymore. Everything's kid friendly, or as I see it, just plain retarded. Who watches this cra- ugh, junk. I was gonna say junk." The Ruff grinned innocently as the Professor shot him a look for the near slip up.
"Well, I'll leave you kids to it." John placed the puzzle piece down before briskly stepping out of the room. 'Well that was uncomfortable.'
He hightailed it to the kitchen, Buttercup complaining her boredom loudly in the back ground. He hadn't even the time to step foot in the doorway before a loud pop sounded from within followed by wet splattering sounds.
The television in the back ground died down to a low murmur, and from the hairs raising on the back of his neck, John didn't even have to look to know that two sets of curious green eyes had locked onto the back of his lab coat. Taking a few cautious steps the Professor inched closer, leaning just far enough to peek in, but far enough that he could still avoid any possible projectiles.
It was orange. All orange. Everything, from the counters and walls, to the chairs and floor were covered in a layer of orange goop. There was no other word he could use to describe the substance but it was obvious that it was everywhere, large globs dripping off even the roof.
"Next time I say don't touch something?" A relatively disembodied voice called out from somewhere within the mess. John wasn't too sure but it seemed to be coming from a particularly large mass of goo near the table.
"I don't touch it." a quiet chastised voice replied.
"And why don't we touch it?" the previous male voice called out petulantly.
"Cause I'll probably break it…"
"Or~?" the large glob of goop, or as John figured out, the teen covered in orange gunk pressed for another answer.
"Or blow it up."
"Now, are we going to listen to our boyfriend next time?"
"Yes Boomer…"
"That's all I ask." Boomer echoed out to the room. "Now where are you so I can give you a hug and we can start cleaning this stuff up before your dad finds us?"
"I'm standing right next to you." Bubbles stated with finality.
"You are?" Boomer sounded surprised but John wasn't too sure, so instead he watched as the slightly identifiable glob turned around.
The glop monster reached out to the slightly smaller glob beside it like an orange rendition of 'Flubber'. The smaller glob was pulled into a hug, the excess orange between the two squishing loudly.
"Eeewww! Boomer let go! It's getting in my clothes!" Bubbles cried out horrified, flailing her arms in an attempt to push the male away but only succeeding in flying more orange around the room.
"Oh, it is, is it?" Boomer mocked surprise. He tightened his hold, squeezing Bubbles lightly against him, uncaring of the orange dribbling down his sides. "Well good, cause this can be your punishment."
"A hug?"
"No, a disgusting, orange goo hug."
"Boomer, it's oozing!" Bubbles whined indignantly, trying unsuccessfully to push against his shoulders, her hands merely sliding off under the slippery substance.
"Fine, but we really should start cleaning this up before your dad gets here." The Boomer glob shifted, turning just enough for John to make out his eyes.
"Yah, he'd probably blow up worse than this volcano." the Bubbles glob agreed.
The Professor coughed pointedly from the doorway, trying and failing to hide the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Both the Bubbles and Boomer glob twitched, two pairs of startled aqua and cobalt orbs starring wide eyed at him, the Boomer glob attempted to inconspicuously inch a respectful distance away.
From the corner of his eye John could just see the greens standing, or in Buttercup's case hovering, behind him and peeking over his shoulders. He chose to ignore them for the time being lest his toughest little fighter remember her unanswered question.
"Sorry dad… we sorta made a mess…" Bubbles timidly squeaked, sounding embarrassed.
"We were just about to clean it up sir." Boomer added helpfully, his voice quietened towards the end as he mumbled "Right after we figure out how…"
For reasons unknown, of all things, the icebox chose that moment to pop open, drawing attention from all the rooms occupants.
"Sorry for the intrusion." bright red claws snaked out of the opening followed closely by arms and a head. "I seem to have run out of- eeeh gads! What happened in here?!"
HIM stepped delicately out onto the orange coated floor with a black heeled boot. The goop squelched wetly beneath his shoe causing the demon to quiver with disgust.
"This won't do, no this won't. Sticky, slimy, everything orange!" HIM stared with wide crazed eyes as he assessed the extent of the damage. The corner of his right eye twitched as he hastily closed the icebox door, reopening it a second later and pulling out a bucket, mop, rags, and various other cleaning supplies. "Can't forget the bleach, lots and lots of bleach."
John felt his curiosity acting up again, he had always wanted the chance to study the demons pocket dimensions. Now was probably not the best time though.
"Filthy, filthy, filthy, filthy!" HIM chanted with a crazed undertone as he closed the icebox, swiping away at the orange goop with a wild abandon. "So filthy, must clean, NEED MORE BLEACH!"
Boomer grabbed Bubbles, inching away from his father, they nearly reached the door when she slipped in the goop dragging him down with her. HIM paused, turning slowly, zeroing in on the blondes as if just noticing them. Boomer scrambled, acutely aware of his fathers eyes boring holes into the back of his head. Unfortunately he only managed a few meager inches before the red demon caught him by the collar of his shirt.
"Darling. How good to see you." HIM dragged the boy closer, wiping a rag over his face and removing some of the orange before handing him a bucket. "Now be a dear and help daddy clean up this mess." ignoring the look Boomer was giving he set his sights on the second glob. "And Bubbles can help too."
"I'd suggest you run while you still can." Butch's voice whispered just loud enough for the Professor to hear.
John took one look at the demon and decided that he didn't really need the coffee anymore. He was wide enough awake to make it to his room after the Buttercup scare a little while ago. So he stepped lightly and backed out of the room as fast as he could without making any sudden, attention drawing, movements.
With a little bit of luck, perhaps he could make it to his room without any further mishaps. Trudging across the hall he watched as the two ravens disappeared back into the living room before making his way up the stairs. Finally reaching the top he yawned again, his lack of sleep hitting him full force.
Just a little more, to be honest it was pretty cold down in the lab, and it's not like he did anything strenuous, so he didn't really need that bath. It could wait till after he took a nap. Using the wall as a guide he made his way down the hall. The Professor wasn't too sure but his house felt bigger than usual today, or perhaps it just seemed that it was, either way he wished the halls were shorter and that his room wasn't so far.
If they ever moved the first thing John would do is pick a room closer to his lab. Or maybe even make a room IN his lab.
Speaking of rooms, there were some strange sounds coming from his eldest girls room. Loud crashes, thumps, and just the general sounds of chaos resound from within as if some sort of struggle were taking place.
It was a tad worrying, but having already goofed up once before with Buttercup just a little while ago, he wasn't too sure he should do something about it. Then again this was Blossom he was thinking of. If Blossom was in there and the other Ruffs were over than that meant Brick was probably in there too. An if Blossom and Brick were in there along with a bunch of crashing sounds then they were more than likely fighting again.
'Perhaps I should… Nah. They'll be fine.' John reasoned, these were the, more or less, mature ones out of the bunch. They may fight like cats and dogs but he trust the two not to let things get too out of hand. Shrugging his worries aside, the Professor continued on his way down the hall.
THUMP
"Quick!"
"Ack!"
CRASH
Pausing for a moment John glanced back over his shoulder at the teens now outside of the room. For some reason they were both plastered against the door, Brick leaning his full weight as he sprawled across the frame, Blossom right next to him in much the same manner. They both looked rather frazzled, Brick with his hat half falling off, and Blossom with her hair tangled and sticking in random directions.
"Now what do we do?" Brick asked, breathing heavy as he looked down at Blossom.
"How should I know?" Blossom slid down the door.
"Well we can't just leave them in there." Brick scowled, running his fingers through his hair and adjusting his hat. "Can we?"
"No, we can't." Blossom sent a half hearted glare up at him. "They're going to trash my room!"
"Guess you'd better figure something out then."
"Why do I have to figure it out?" Blossom looked up at the boy with a shocked yet irritated look on her face. "You're the one that brought those things in my room. I don't even know what they are!"
"Good, cause I don't think you want to know."
"Why?" Blossom questioned suspiciously.
The house vibrated slightly then, a strangely quiet explosion echoing from behind the closed door.
"That's why…" Brick grinned sheepishly, looking ready to bolt at any second.
Blossom quickly jumped up from her sitting position, kneeling in front of the door knob and peeking through the key hole. Brick chose that moment to run, a flash of red streaking behind him as he bolted down the hall. The front door crashed loudly seconds later.
"Brick you jerk!" Blossom shouted, running after him. "Get back here and help clean this!"
The Professor watched as tendrils of grey smoke oozed out from beneath Blossoms door. It didn't smell like a fire, and he was sure she wouldn't have run off if there was one. So with another shrug he continued on his way.
Finally reaching his room he pulled his lab coat off and flopped down on the bed. He didn't even bother changing, just snuggled up to his pillow.
'Finally… peace and quiet.' John sighed, shifting around and making himself comfortable. 'Time to sleep.'
For the first time since he left the lab John relaxed. Content with everything around him even if he could still hear the obnoxiously loud tv down stairs, or the crazy demon in his kitchen. With a yawn he closed his eyes, letting the sand man do his job and put him to sleep, the dark fog of unconsciousness a welcoming respite from all the noise.
…
Boom
CRASH
"Not again…" John moaned, not even lifting his head from the pillow as he rolled over and eyed the monkey that had just crashed through his bedroom window.
"Good evening Utonium." Mojo grinned, seemingly not the least bit fazed by the fact that he had just literally been hurtled through a window. "My apologies, I will have one of the boys fix the window as soon as possible." Mojo stood up, dusting soot off himself. "One of my inventions did not agree with my newly created fuel source."
"You tried mixing chlorine and sulfur again didn't you?"
"…"
"Thought so." John sighed, rolling back over and snuggling with his pillow once more.
"Long night I see." Mojo chirped, flattening some of his frizzy fur.
"Mmm."
"Well, I shall not bother you any longer." Mojo carefully skirted the glass shards around the window, hopping out and closing the curtains behind him. "The mess will be cleaned before you have the chance to awaken from you slumber."
"Ok…" John mumbled, nodding off.
•••***•••
Some time later an apron wearing Mojo came hopping back through the window dustpan in hand. He began humming a tune that sounded a cross between some sort of pirate song and 'twinkle twinkle' as he set about cleaning up the glass.
Shortly after that Buttercup was spotted hovering in his window with a construction outfit on and a hammer in hand as she knocked what was left of the frame out to be carried away by Butch. Who for some reason had a pair of sparky wings attached to his back.
Somewhere between HIM flouncing in the room with glasses of iced tea and a cat tailed Blossom chasing a mouse eared Brick down the hall while swinging a giant mallet, John began wondering why they couldn't just let him sleep.
The feather covered Bubbles and Boomer singing nursery rhymes while flying around his head didn't help much in the matter either.
His family and friends were so very strange at times…
…
'WAIT!' John leapt out of bed, ignoring the pink tutu he happened to be wearing along with the fact that he had sent the two blues across the room in a puff of feathers, a large bright lightbulb flashing to life above his head. 'This is what weird is isn't it!'
A suddenly shrunken Butch fluttered over with his fairy wings, a sparkly baseball bat with a star and streamers on the end in his grasp. Taking a wide legged stance in the air directly beside the lightbulb he did a little dance, shook his little wings, and whacked the lightbulb causing it to flicker back out.
'Nah, couldn't be…' John muttered, laying back on his bed made of sponge cake as he juggled M&M's the size of footballs. 'I'll figure it out someday… just you wait. Then the whole world will know the definition of the word weird.'
But for now, he was content with his lot in life, even if he did have times that made him question.
•••***•••
"What do you think he's dreaming about?"
"Not sure… but it must have something to do with food." Butch mumbled, carrying the replacement window over to Buttercup whom was watching her father gnaw on his pillow.
"By the way, why the heck are you carrying around a sparkly baseball bat?" Buttercup questioned her friend, eyeing him suspiciously. "An where the heck did you even get a sparky baseball bat?"
"I don't know, why are you wearing a construction hat?" Butch countered, tapping the hard hat down over her face.
"Cause I felt like it." Buttercup announced, swatting him away. "An you got if from Bubbles' room didn't you?"
"Maybe…"
"Your such a weirdo."
"Says the weirdo in a construction hat."
"I'm not a weirdo, you are."
"No I'm not, you are."
"No, you are."
"No, you are."
"…"
"…"
"Hey Butch?"
"Yah?"
"What's your definition of weird?"
"I don't know, but it's better than being normal."
"Then what's normal."
"I. Don't. Know."
"Then what's weird?"
"Your going to keep asking me this aren't you?"
"Until you come up with an answer."
"Ok, fine, you wanna know what weird is?"
"What?"
"Your face."
"…"
"I should run now, shouldn't I?"
"Yep."
"AAAAHHHHHHH!"
•••000•••
Don't even ask about the ending, I have no idea. I've got a headache, it's way too early in the morning, and theres this psychedelic rooster in the tree outside that thinks it's ok to crow because he sees a street lamp.
I should have been sleeping hours ago… ah well. My sleep deprived mind decided to have some fun and go on a sugar sustained joy ride with the kidnaped voice my friend says is my conscience. Hope you guys at least got a chuckle out of this.
Leave a review telling me how it turned out and don't mind the crazy. Cause seriously
'For me, crazy is a loose term. Crazy is when you stare at a pencil and laugh when someone asks you just what you find so interesting about the eraser. Crazy is when you have an hour long sob-fest, then start singing and dancing when your favorite song plays. Crazy is when you do or say a totally random thing, like "do you ever wonder where the eraser bits go?" or start having a thumbwar with yourself.'
Crazy is also when you and your best friend get hopped up on sugar and insist that everything you see has become candy land and that the birds are now gumdrops. Crazy is when you sit in a box with a frying pan on your head and pretend to be driving a race car. Crazy is when all you have to do is say Pluto and the two of you automatically burst out laughing and everyone looks at you funny and you just don't care(inside joke).