Crooked
Bubbles's Diary Entry:
Dear Diary,
Buttercup and Blossom keep telling me that it's over. The accident that occurred a few days before in which Mojo had fallen into an empty vat that was at his secret laboratory and smashed his head against it made him forget who he was. Oh yes, he knows that he's a villain. He knows that he's Mojo Jojo, the main villain of the Powerpuff Girls. But… his personality has been reversed due to the blow to his head. He has no desire anymore to be a villain. The psyche evaluations have confirmed it.
He's not evil anymore. After eighteen years of fighting, he's not evil anymore.
Mojo Jojo silently shuffled into his new house. It had been four days since he had moved in, and he had just completed his second job interview. He had been evicted from his volcano lair in the city and was now forced to relocate to the suburbs, as a part of Project Reattachment to Reality.
"I got the job," he mumbled to himself, trudging to the fridge. "At a factory."
He removed a can of soda from the fridge, cracked it open and then started guzzling it down. He crushed the can when finished, and threw it across the room.
"I'm not even a goddamned villain anymore and this town stillmakes me miserable!" he thundered, feeling the walls around him shake. "They expect me to live a simple life, here, in this stupid little town, which I would be comfortable living a simple life, in a stupid little town, if I was a stupid, simple lived, town person!"
He smacked his face and yelled, "Come on, dude, I can't even buy eggs without an elderly lady breaking down and throwing money at my face, shouting, 'take it all!'"
On the ground, a few drops from the soda can started to drip on the ground, soaking into the carpet. Mojo looked about ready to blow a gasket, but he just sighed heavily and held up his hands. Go get stain remover. Go get paper towels. It'll be okay.
Then a thought occurred in his head, and he let out a roar and punched the wall.
"THAT'S RIGHT, I COULDN'T BUY THOSE THINGS EITHER!"
"Bubbles? Could you go wipe down table five?"
A lean blond dressed in a short red miniskirt and white blouse with her nametag and restaurant logo, stood over near the door. In her hands she held a bottle of window cleaner and a cloth. She had her hair up in perky pigtails, and had the hugest blue eyes. She was pretty, but more along the lines of striking, and not exactly beautiful. Introducing the 23 year old Bubbles Utonium!
She smiled a sweet smile and answered, "'Course, Pete—let me finish washing this window and I'll be right on it."
There were still six or so hours left in her shift before she had her weekend. She hoped that her shift would be interrupted with an emergency for Townsville. She had been working another job as a substitute teacher for kindergarteners, which was highly exhausting. She normally had three jobs, but had to drop that one for the substitute job. Their teacher was on maternity leave, so she would be gone for a while… which left Bubbles time to rack up the cash.
When the restaurant finally opened, the citizens of Townsville started coming in, hungry for gourmet burgers, fries, and other tastily greasy sides and dishes. Well, okay, there were salads on the menu. But Bubbles knew that people would rarely pass up a freshly grilled cheeseburger for a salad.
She bused sixteen tables that night, and there was no call to save Townsville. She also signed a couple of autographs for some adoring citizens, with her sweet smile and signature with a heart. It was eleven when her shift had ended and she was starting to head for home.
She had a cruddy, yet cute little apartment in downtown Townsville (which had previously had some gang activity, but stopped once a member of the Powerpuff Girls moved into the neighborhood) which was her little safe haven.
At the door outside her apartment she had two piles of mail: fan mail and regular mail. She picked up both piles and then headed inside. She switched on the television and opened up her fan mail, looking at the letters and pictures that little girls and boys had drawn for her. She kept her favorites posted on the fridge, and when there was no more room, she packed them away in a box underneath her bed. She might need two boxes soon.
About half an hour later she was yawning and exhausted, so she started to head off for bed, relishing that the weekend was ahead of her. But just as she was brushing her teeth, she got a call from one of her sisters. She picked up the phone and spoke into it.
"Hello? Oh Blossom," she said, recognizing her sister's voice. "Hey, why are you still up?" she grinned. "Oh no, I don't think that at all. Ha ha ha. So what was it that you were calling about? Trouble in Townsville?"
"No, just—Seriously, Curtis, you're getting on the verge of annoying—I wanted to ask you if you wouldn't mind going over to Mojo—um, sorry, Joseph's house, and checking up on him."
Bubbles tilted her head in confusion, but she was still smiling. "Why, is Curtis keeping you busy all weekend?"
"Oh no he won't!" Blossom said loudly enough for Curtis to understand. The two sisters laughed. "I just have to work this weekend for this bill that's coming up, and the mayor wants me to help research and, you know, develop a speech…"
"Okay, got it. What about Buttercup?"
"Got a few more kickboxing classes to teach."
"Ah. Okay then. Yeah, that won't be any problem. I'll go over there at say… 9:00."
"Thanks, Bubbles—Curtis, I'm still on the phone! Go work on a case or—stop it!"
Bubbles laughed. "Good night Blossom—and good luck."
Mojo Jojo heard the doorbell ring at around nine fifteen in the morning. He was rather enjoying his sleep, having a rather pleasant dream about something or other.
He growled to himself, climbed out of bed and fetched his robe and slippers. He then trudged, grumbling to himself, and opened the door. He looked appalled at what he saw. Bubbles, one of the Powerpuff Girls, standing there, all perky, waiting for him.
"Oh, Mojo—oh, I'm sorry, Joseph, good morning!"
He in turn, attempted to slam the door in her face. She caught the door, crushing the wood slightly. She winced at the damage.
"Sorry about that. Buttercup and Blossom sent me here to… well, spend a day with you, I guess."
She stepped inside. He glared at her sleepily. Here he was, a chimp with bed head (all over his body, really) and she was perfectly dressed up.
"Do you wake up every morning around this time or do you…?"
"It's Saturday." He growled, still glaring. "Don't youhave anything better to do?"
Bubbles shrugged. "Uh, you know, sleeping in sounds good for me too, but Blossom told me to come here."
Always the follower."Uh huh. I don't need a caretaker."
Here she asserted herself. "Look here, mister, Blossom told me to come here and inspectyou, so I'm going to do that!"
He stepped aside as she stomped into his house and removed her shoes. He stood there, mumbling.
"Oh yes, just go trouncing through my house, looking at everything, all my personal belongings that will scar you for life… just go through all of that."
She looked at him in confusion. "Do you want me to make you a pot of coffee or something? You still sound sleepy."
"I can do that. Do your inspecting thing. Fly through the house and x-ray stuff or whatever." He headed into the kitchen, leaving her standing there. "Kick in a few walls; I might have drugs in there."
He heard a light whoosh of air and heard Bubbles floating through the house, searching for anything that might link him to his villainy past. As if. Now he was just a really crabby monkey. He had finished making coffee by the time Bubbles came to join him.
"Well, no marijuana plants growing anywhere, so I think that we're good," she joked, sitting down.
He smirked.
"Oh, could I have a cup of coffee?" she asked him. "I didn't really get a chance to have some this morning."
He completed her request and filled a cup of coffee for her, and handed it to her.
"Do you have any sugar?" she asked him.
He held out an enclosed fist, which contained a few sugar packets. They dropped onto the table. She smiled nervously, and picked one up and shredded it.
"So, this is you, every morning?" she asked him.
"It's the same as it always has been."
They sat at the table, sipping coffee. It didn't take long for Bubbles to realize something was missing.
"This is really lonely."
"Huh?"
"You live in suburbia, in a house by yourself. It's lonely. Every breakfast is like this?"
"Yes."
"No TV even on?"
"I don't like television."
"Oh." She tapped her nails against the side of her mug. "Well then, what do you do?"
"Read. Mope. Gripe about life." He sipped more coffee. "If you don't want to listen to incessant bitching all day, you can leave if you want."
"Don't you have anything you enjoy doing?"
"I spent most of my days building machines in an attempt to destroy you. Therefore, no, I have nothing to do," he responded bitterly. "I like reading, but I can't even go to the library without mothers shielding their children from me."
Bubbles sat there in stunned silence, but finished her coffee. When he had finished his too, he got up to make breakfast. He pulled out a package of oatmeal, spooned some into a bowl and then nuked it in the microwave.
"You want some?" he asked her.
"Um, no thank you, I already ate."
The timer rang and Mojo removed the hot bowl from the microwave. He spooned brown sugar into it and then sat down. It looked like wet, white bird poop, and then brown sugar on top. Bubbles wrinkled her nose.
"Do you like eating that every day?"
"No. I usually prefer eggs, a slice of toast, and some bacon or sausage. That was my routine favorite breakfast."
"Why don't you make that then?"
He smiled through a mouthful of oatmeal. "Because, Bubbles, I can't buy any eggs. Or anything really for that matter."
Mojo crossed his arms and exited his bedroom. Bubbles stood there with her purse, waiting patiently. Mojo closed the door behind him and eyed her warily.
"You're seriously taking me shopping?"
"Yes," she answered. "I'll take you grocery shopping to get the things you need. People will feel less uneasy around you if a Powerpuff is accompanying you."
"Are we flying?"
"Uh, no, walking. Duh." She rolled her eyes, but smiled as she headed out the door. "Come on, Jojo."
They made their way to Malt's grocery store (though it took an extra hour without a car or flying) but it was cloudy out, and breezy, the perfect weather for walking. Once they walked in, Bubbles could see immediate tension when they spotted Mojo, but then relaxed slightly when they saw Bubbles. Some people even made a point to say "hello" to her directly, and she would reply in that sugary sweet tone of hers.
They grabbed a grocery cart and walked through the aisles, picking up things and dropping them into the cart. Bubbles felt quite content. She heard Mojo talking about what he wanted, saw how he easily compared prices and determined which brand was the better buy. This reminded her of the old weekly grocery trips to the store when she still lived at home.
"What kind of dishes do you know how to cook?" she asked him.
He snorted. "What kind of dishes…? Uh, I'm a hibachi chef, for instance."
"So… fish?"
"Japanese," he answered tartly, pursing his lips. "Mainly, I appreciate the Asian cuisine. I can cook a lot more than that, though."
He then rambled on repetitively about what a good cook he was, and Bubbles listened half heartedly. Occasionally when he rambled on, she giggled to herself, in which he would briefly pause, shoot her a look, and then continue.
They bought everything that they needed and started to walk home, carrying their bags filled with groceries. They walked out of the parking lot, and onto a street with a lot of window shopping. They passed by clothing stores, but it was particularly when they crossed in front of a men's clothing store that Bubbles turned to Mojo and squawked excitedly.
"Jojo! Jojo, ppppllleeaaassseee!Can I help you pick out some clothes? Please?"
"Our arms are full with groceries."
"But I have great taste!"
"Okay, then," he answered, not listening.
She grabbed his arm and he protested, but she dragged him into the store.
"Look, if you're worried about the groceries, I'll take them back right now and be back in five minutes! Just… comb through some of the clothes. Pick out what you like."
Mojo grumbled as he saw her fly out the door in a blue streak, zipping away back to his house. He then walked around for a while, looking through the clothes. He liked blue, white, and purple, like the colors of his supervillain uniform. But of course, that would probably be easily disapproved of.
Bubbles returned earlier than he had expected. She walked in and saw him with a pair of green plaid pajamas and a white button up shirt. She frowned a little bit and approached him.
"Oh come on. There's got to be more that you would like to have."
"I like blue, purple and white, but that was my old outfit," he answered dully.
"So then get those colors. Duh. Look here," she said, removing a lovely indigo shirt from the rack. She held it up to him and smiled approvingly. "See? It's a good color on you."
She threw it over her arm, and then looked at him. "So, what's your taste? Are you more of a fancy guy or do you like casual clothes?"
"Casual's okay, but I hate denim."
"Okay, so that rules out jeans. Don't worry, you can still be casual and look nice. I'll help you out."
For about an hour they tried on clothes and collected a rather large pile. Mojo did seem to be enjoying himself. He was at first reluctant to have fun, but then started enjoying himself a lot more as the hour passed. They finished clothes shopping and then headed home.
"See? With all this villainy stuff behind you, you're really a nice guy to be around," she told him kindly. "Or monkey, I mean."
"Thank you for accompanying me today for shopping," he told her frankly.
"You're welcome. I'll do it anytime. Here."
She removed a post it note from her purse along with a pen, and then scribbled down her phone number. She handed it to him.
"You need someone to hang out with, give me a call. I'm home most nights."
She then bid him goodbye, and waved as she took off flying across the sky. He stood there, with the post it note in hand… and waved back, even though she was no longer there.
A week passed before Mojo decided to call up Bubbles and see if she was available. He called around seven, and had come up with a perfect excuse: there was a new horror movie playing at the theater, which he wanted to go see.
"Oh, um, a horror movie?" she asked him.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Do you want to go?"
"…okay," she said reluctantly. "Meet you there at six fifty."
She hung up the phone before he had a chance to ask her what was wrong. Other plans? Too tired to come? Or maybe she just didn't like horror movies? Knowing Bubbles, it was obvious that it was number three.
He came to the theater right on time and saw that she was just arriving. She wore her regular Powerpuff girl dress, with a sweatshirt over it since it was cold that night. She smiled when she saw him.
"Hi, Jojo," she said. "Er… Joseph, sorry."
"Joseph is preferred." He told her, but then shook his head. "Never mind that. We should buy our tickets and head in."
"Okay."
They bought their tickets and headed to the concession stand where Mojo purchased a bucket of popcorn with butter, and Bubbles had a box of gummy worms. They headed into the theater and sat in the first few rows.
He noticed that Bubbles was starting to look highly uncomfortable with the situation. She slunk down really low in her seat. He looked at her.
"What's wrong?"
"I just don't like horror movies very much. They freak me out." Then she shook her head. "No, it's not just that. When I… when I gave you my number the other day, I mean, I didn't even like think about it first. If Buttercup and Blossom knew where I was right now… oh my God, they would be so mad."
"Why? This is your personal life. Not your Powerpuff life."
"Well, you put it differently than how they see it, Mojo…" her eyes brightened. "But you know what, you're right. Even if they go into about how I'm a Powerpuff girl and all that, I can just say it was my duty!"
He smirked, munching on a bite of popcorn. "To see a movie with me?"
"Yeah." She said. Those bright blue eyes were smiling at him. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"If I get scared, can I like, squeeze your hand? I know it sounds weird, but it makes me feel better."
Well, then,Mojo thought, there'll be a whole lot of awkward squeezing of the hands during this movie.
"…Sure."
The movie of course included lots of gore, lots of suspense, and plenty of different ways to die. It was the most horrifying, disturbing thing ever. Bubbles was absolutely terrified, and had pressed up really close against Mojo, squeezing the ever-loving crap out of his hand. But they managed to get through the film without her screaming or crying.
"I am so sorry," she told him when the lights came up. "I ruined the movie, didn't I?"
"If you wanted to go see a different movie, then yes, you should have said something," he said as they got up into the aisle.
"I know," she said miserably. "I'm sorry."
He knew that back then, he would probably have mocked her and berated her till she thrashed him, but he was different now. Granted, his behavior now would have been mocking her to himself when he was alone and giving her a tart silent treatment while they were together, but…
He found her so damn cute.
"It's fine," he said reasonably. "If we go out to a movie again, you pick what you want to see. Deal?"
She was surprised, but her eyes glowed with happiness and newfound admiration.
"Deal, Joseph."