Somewhere That's Regular
A collection of short stories based on "Regular Show"
By DemiHuman123
I don't own the TV show, Regular Show. I don't own Mordecai, Rigby, Benson, Pops, or the neutral Margaret. Cartoon Network own them, so nobody better come and sue me because I got a copyright up so I'm fine. I think. Though somehow I have a feeling the J.G. Quintell secretly reads his fans fanfiction.
Nostalgia
The beer was warm to his lips. It tasted disgusting that way. Muscle Man sometimes wished he and High Five Ghost got paid more to afford an actual refrigerator, but the pay for two random workers at a park was considerably low, and they had to make do. It wasn't like their old job, where money came in pretty steady, but that was a long time ago. Before it happened...
The green man sat on his messy and rugged bed, holding a picture in his hand. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he looked at the two figures in the picture. One of them was himself, looking slightly thinner, though still with a wide build and large gut. A wide smile spread across his face and he looked happily at the figure next to him. His clothes were clean for a change, and his hair was no longer stringy and dirty.
Beside Muscle Man in the picture was someone else, though it was hard to make them out because of the condition of the photograph. He had that photo for so long it was starting to warp and tear in places. The only thing that he could make out of this other person was the body: skinny and lanky build sporting khacky pants and a denom jacket with a wife beater underneath. One gloved arm seemed to be in a sling of some sort, recovering from god only knows what kind of injury. The other gloved arm was wrapped around Muscles Man's neck in a friendly manner. The face, though, was missing. It was smudged and twisted, having no defining characteristics.
Muscle Man took another sip of beer, looking away from the photo for a few seconds. When he returned to the snapshot, it occured to him that he forgot. He forgot what he looked like. It was the only picture of the two of them together when he was still alive, and he had forgotten what his friend looked like. He nerve wracked his brain over and over, trying to remember the exact details of his face. How big were his eyes? Was his noise pronounced or sunk in? What color was his skin or hair? Did he have any hair for that matter?
He grunted as he tried his best to jog his memory. There must have been something, anything in this picture that could tell him what he wanted to know. But nothing came of it. He kept looking, his eyes darting back and forth between people, and the only thing that came out of it was a greater sense of self annoyance and regret.
A cold gust swept through him at that moment, and he knew what it was. High Five Ghost had phased through him, and was happily looking at the photo.
"Hey," he exclaimed, "that's you!"
Muscle Man smiled narcistically and let out a brief chuckle. "Yeah, that was me back when all the losers wanted to be like me. Not that they don't now."
The ghost giggled at the sight of his friend, and turned his attention to the other figure in the picture. He eyed this faceless person curiously, unaware of who it was.
"Who's that?" he asked Muscle Man with a questioning look.
Muscle Man didn't answer. He didn't want to have to explain.
High Five Ghost didn't recognize the body of the other person as his own. He didn't recognize the sling, or the clothes, or his arm around his friend. He didn't even remember taking that picture. Even if the picture had been worn and warped over time, he should still remember taking it. But he didn't. That memory was long gone, taken away with his former life.
"Nobody," Muscle Man said as his smile faded, replaced with an expression of melancholy. "It's... just some guy."
He took a sip of his beer. It still tasted terrible.
That sense of nostalgia... it'll never leave...
Until Next Chapter...
Adieu...