DISCLAIMER: I always forget to do these! Anyway, I don't own Fred or Webkinz. Those are owned by Lucas Cruikshank, his legal team, aand the Ganz company, respectively. That said, I hope you enjoy this story.

Chapter One

"Hey, it's Fred!" Fred Figglehorn, a spirited but confused six year old, happily shouted at his video camera. Poor Fred had no friends (for obvious reasons), so he satisfied his cravings for social interaction by talking about his life and creating videos for the Internet. Little did he know that no one liked him there any more than they did in the real world.

"I just discovered this great new game called Webkinz!" he screeched, squeezing a massive collection of stuffed dogs. "These are my squirrels. I have about eighty, I think. How do I, a simple six year old, have the ability to purchase all of these magnificent stuffed toys, you ask? It was easy! All I had to do was sell all of my mom's high heeled shoes over the Internet. Sure, she'll be mad, but those shoes? Ugh! Six inch heels are not appropriate for someone her age. I mean, she's almost thirty! Why does my mom have to be so ancient?It's not fair!" Fred let out a scream that caused all of the neighborhood dogs to bark.

By the time they had stopped, Fred had already logged in to the website. "This is it, this is it this is it... WEBKINZ!" The site had fully loaded, and Fred started to play his games. After several hours of playing, his eyes were red and puffy, and his Webkinz, a chihuahua named Poopsie, was very hungry. "Don't worry, Poopsie- pie! I'll go make you some food. And I promise, it will be much better than that poop pile you fell into the day I bought you." Sure enough, the stuffed animal version of his Webkinz had a giant brown stain from an unfortunate encounter with the poop. The poop had belonged to a cat with rabies that Fred rescued, so it probably was not a good idea for Fred to lick this dog. He was devastated about that, considering how much he loved licking miscellaneous items. Toilet brushes were his favorite.

Going back to his house, Fred went to the room he had named Poopsie's kitchen. The room was decorated in brown and green, in honor of the dog's name. Scrolling through his refrigerator, Fred took out ingredients. Luckily, Fred had saved enough of his KinzCash to but a super stove, which allowed him to cook with five ingredients instead of three.

"Let's see..." Fred wanted to make sure his recipe was the very best for Poopsie. "Ice cream cone, Super Mega Toothbuster candies, apple juice, baked beans, and Macaroni and cheese! Perfect! That will taste so yummy in Poopsie's tummy, yes it will! ANd later on, Poopsie can make some poopsie on the potty. Because Poopsie is a potty trained bib boy, unlike me. Why do I have to be so much less accomplished than a stuffed animal? Poopsie, I hate you. I will never play with you again!"

Fred threw all of his Webkinz out the window, sobbing and screeching hysterically. In an attempt to make himself feel better, he made a big bowl of the same snack he made Poopsie. His mommy always ate her feelings, and she lived to the super old age of thirty, so it must have some health benefits, Fred figured.

The snack was even grosser than the poop taste Fred got in his mouth whenever he licked Poopsie. Fred developed food poisoning, and was never allowed to play on Webkinz again.

END NOTE: ... I am very, very sorry for that. I honestly don't know where that came from. Fred's misadventures are just so much fun to make up. And whenever I get finished writing a Fred fic, I always feel better about myself and my life's choices. Do you get that feeling ever? I feel so uch more accomplished and balanced after I watch Fred videos, and writing what could be Fred stories doubles that effect.