Hello everyone! I bring you the first parody in (hopefully) a little fun collection of stories centering around Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, which is respectfully owned by Warner Bros. and Craig McCracken, that I've thought up one day.
Here is a parody to Hey Arnold's "Haunted Train" segment, which is respectfully owned by Nickelodeon. Hope you all enjoy it!
It was a normal summer day for Mac and his friends Bloo, Wilt, Coco, and Eduardo over at Foster's. However, it was rather less droll than usual for them all because they were bored.
". . . So," said Mac in an attempt to break the silence, "you guys have any ideas?"
"How about we go shoot some hoops again?" suggested Wilt.
Coco shook her head. "Co-co-co, coco."
"Yeah, I guess it does get old quickly."
"Ooh, ooh, I know!" Eduardo exclaimed happily. "We can always play video games!"
"Are you kidding?" asked Bloo. "We've already played video games! And completed them! Twice!"
"Even at the arcade?"
"Even at the arcade! Man, I'm so gosh darn bored—sooooo bored to death that I think I'll just lie down and die."
"Hi guys!" happily exclaimed a familiar voice. As the group of friends turned to the voice, they noticed Goo wearing her beaming smile walking up to them with her karaoke box. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Dying from boredom, what else?" Bloo sarcastically inquired.
"Not to worry—'cause I've got a great idea! Who's up for KAAAAAARAOKEEEEEE!?"
"Goo," Mac sighed, "we already did karaoke all day yesterday, remember?"
Goo's smile disappeared on that note. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. . . . Well I guess bringing my karaoke box along was a waste of time."
"C'mon, guys. Let's just go inside and watch TV." And with that, the six friends went inside, with Goo still dragging her karaoke box behind her.
In the TV room, the six friends watched the television with extreme boredom as a monotone weatherman was talking. "And there'll be continuous sunshine in Spokane."
Bloo simply, dully, made fun of the name Spokane. "Sunshine in Spokane. . . . Spohhhhh-kane. . . . Shpohhhhh-kaaaahhhhhn."
It was then that Frankie, her arms full with a basket of clothes, just about passed by before noticing the bored looks on her friends' faces.
"Hey guys, what's wrong?" asked Frankie. "If I didn't know any better, I would've said you're all bored out of your minds."
"Well Frankie," said Bloo dully, "get a grave ready for me, 'cause I'm about ready to get bored to death here."
Mac rolled his eyes at that. "Bloo, you can't die from boredom literally—it's just a figure of speech."
"Really?" asked Goo before talking at her usual rapid pace. "'Cause I remember reading somewhere that during the 1920s a group of people were holding a dance-a-thon and it went on for hours and hours and hours and a couple actually died."
Eduardo gulped in fear at that. "Now I'm muy scared of dancing."
"Goo," said Mac awkwardly with a raised eyebrow, "I don't think that has to do with getting bored to death, per se."
"I say there, Master Mac," Mr. Herriman piped up as he and Madame Foster just came into the picture, "I thought you and your friends would be outside enjoying yourselves."
"We were, Mr. Herriman," explained Mac, "but we decided to head inside since we have nothing else to do."
"Have you played a game of cards?"
"Oh, sí," Eduardo nodded, "we played Go Fish and everything Señor Herriman."
The Imaginary Rabbit rubbed his chin. "Hmm, I see."
"Oh, I know! Have you dearies tried your hand at word puzzles?" suggested Madame Foster.
Coco nodded. "Cococococo."
"I'm sorry," said Wilt, "but Coco's right. We've already played crosswords and everything—and they're all completed."
"A game of checkers?" suggested Mr. Herriman.
Bloo gave a bored roll of his eyes. "Been there, done that. On every board game."
"I suggested we do karaoke," shrugged Goo, "but we did that all day yesterday."
Frankie held her forehead, a pained look on her face. "Please Goo, don't remind us. When Cheese screamed in that thing yesterday, I was about ready to toss him out the window."
"How do think I felt?" asked Bloo, hopping off the couch before tossing his arms up. "Heck, I would've been more than glad to have assisted you—that's how much I hate Cheese. . . . He still falls short to Bendy and Terrence, but still."
"You and everybody else Bloo—believe me."
Madame Foster was watching the television, and on it were live-action, black-and-white trains crashing into one another. She then got an idea. "Say dearies, have I ever told you all about the first time I visited the train station when I was, oooh say Mac's age just about?"
"Okay," said Bloo in a deadpan tone before letting himself fall to the floor, "when I said I was going to lie down and die because of boredom, I'm gonna do it."
That was followed by everyone else (except Mr. Herriman) getting up and starting to go their separate ways from the old lady. . . .
"And first heard the legend of the haunted train?" Madame Foster said slyly.
The others immediately focused their attention on Madame Foster—even Bloo's curiosity got the best of him as he stood up.
"Haunted train? What haunted train? Please tell us!" begged the anxious-sounding blob Imaginary Friend.
"Are you quite sure you wish to hear of it?" asked Mr. Herriman with a raised eyebrow. "Madame Foster and I wouldn't want to frighten any of you."
"Are you joking?" asked Goo. "We've all seen Mac go crazy on sugar and that alone is the scariest thing in the world."
At that, the little boy just frowned and stared at her with half-closed eyes.
"Even I got scared on that note! But case in point, we're not scared of a little ghost story."
"Yeah—" agreed Bloo before slyly adding—"except Ed, of course, being the scaredy-waredy-baby-waby of the group."
The Spanglish-speaking Imaginary Friend, who was trembling for a moment, stopped before looking stern. "No, Azul, Eduardo is not a scaredy-baby!" His angry look softened to a smile as he looked to Madame Foster. "Please tell the story, Madame Foster."
The old lady shrugged. "If you say so, deary. Now then, it all started long before I was even born. . . ."
—
*(Story/Madame Foster's Narration)*
Madame Foster: "A long time ago, Engine 13 was heading for the train station, when the engineer went mad and drove his train off the tracks."
The engineer was a sickly pale-skinned man with a maniacal grin full of jagged teeth. As he drove Engine 13 off the tracks, it crashed into a field. The only trace of the crazed engineer was his burning glove still gripping the broken-off handle (which had a Dragon-like molding).
Madame Foster: "They never saw him, or the train again."
—
The old lady watched as her small audience stared on, waiting. "Some say he drove it straight to . . . you know."
"Down town?" guessed Mac.
"ALL the way down town, deary. To the very most southern point!"
"I'm sorry," said Wilt, "but do you mean—?"
"Indeed I do."
"Aye Chihuahua!" exclaimed Eduardo. "All the way to China?"
"Pfft!" snorted Bloo with a smirk. "Of course not! He obviously drove it down to the South Pole. What could be southy-er than that?"
"WRONG!" exclaimed Madame Foster with a roll of the tongue on the "R" sound. "He drove it straight down to the fiery depths of the Underworld!"
Her audience gasped with surprise, with the exception of Frankie as she just rolled her eyes as if to say "oh brother."
"Every year on the anniversary of its last ride," continued the old lady, "Engine 13 comes back, the mad engineer (with a hook for his lost hand) at the throttle. He heads for the old train station, picking up unwary passengers; these unsuspecting passengers are drawn onto the train by a blinding white light that hypnotizes them. Then, a strong smell overpowers them—some say it smells like rotten eggs, but I'll tell you what it is. It's the smell of—"
"Coco?" interrupted the Bird-airplane-plant Imaginary Friend.
Madame Foster glanced at Coco before answering in a deadpan tone. "No deary, fire and brimstone." The old lady then continued the story in her chilling tone. "Then, they start to hear a horrible ear-splitting music; it shrieks and moans and sends chills down your spine—it's naught of our world—it's . . . inhuman. After the music, the train enters . . ." She then threw her arms in the air, her cane in either hand. . . . "The zone of darkness."
Everyone (except Frankie, Mr. Herriman, and Eduardo) gasped.
"Oh no," said a trembling Eduardo, "not the zone of darkness."
Madame Foster, however, continued the story. "In the zone of darkness, the passengers can feel the heat of the flames. Then, the train comes to a complete stop. The doors open, and they're greeted by the red hot demon himself!"
Amongst Madame Foster's small audience, the friends muttered to one another; Frankie, however, just put a hand on her cheek as she shook her head.
With the conclusion of her ghost story, the old lady and her Imaginary Friend started to walk away.
But not before Madame Foster gave one final word. "You know what today is, dearies? It's the anniversary of the Ghost Train. I sure hate to be at the old train station tonight—you know, the one just out of town."
With everyone else still muttering behind him and Madame Foster as they departed, Mr. Herriman looked to his creator. "I have a feeling that somebody won't take heed in your advice, Madame Foster."
"Oh well," shrugged the old lady with a smirk, "at least they won't be bored."
Later On in the Rec Room . . .
"Oooooh, look out Ed!" teased Bloo with a fake hook on either hand (or what served to be such) and waving it around. "I'm the mad engineer of the Ghost Train!"
"AAHHH!" screamed the Spanglish-speaking Friend in genuine fear as he ducked his head. "No, get away from me, Señor Bloo! Get away!"
"Bloo, will you cut it out!?" Mac snapped in Eduardo's defense. "It isn't funny! Besides there is no such thing as a 'Ghost Train'—let alone ghosts."
"Oh yeah?" asked Bloo with half-closed eyes and his arms folded. "Well I think there is."
"Me too!" piped up Goo. "Ghosts totally exist, Mac. Don't you remember when we had a séance at your old apartment?"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Goo," apologized Wilt, "but that was Cheese who made all that moaning."
"Cocococo?" asked Coco. "Cococococo-co-co."
Frankie's eyes were half-closed at whatever it was the Bird-airplane-plant Friend just said. "That was Bloo with a cold, Coco, and I would appreciate it if you guys didn't bring that up again. Also, Mac's right—ghosts do not exist. My grandma's always making up stories like that. Why else is the Thriller radio channel still on the air?"
"You mean Madame Foster has told stories through there, Frankie?" inquired Mac. "I didn't know that."
"Well, she didn't tell the stories herself—though she did give the hosts something to tell, and the tale about the 'Ghost Train'—" Frankie air-quoted "Ghost Train" before continuing—"was just one of many, Mac. And besides, guys, if ghosts existed, then there should be physical evidence."
"What kind of physical evidence, Frankie?" asked Wilt in genuine curiosity.
"Well, you know—infrared photography, ectoplasmic samples, visible energy fields—that kind of physical evidence."
Coco shrugged. "Cococococococo."
"What you mean some things can't be proven!? I say everything can be proven—with the proof, the whole proof, and nothing but the proof!" exclaimed Bloo.
"Proof, shmoof—" Mac scoffed—"we don't have to prove anything. Ghosts don't exist, period. Need more proof than that?"
"Ooh, is that fear in your voices, Mac and Frankie?" teased Goo.
"What? Scared?" chuckled Frankie in disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"
"Yep," Bloo said with a smirk, half-closed eyes, and his arms folded across his chest, "you guys are just as scared as Ed, if not more. You two are scared of ghosts and scared of being proved wrong."
"Can't we just stop talking about ghosts and say they don't exist?" Eduardo pleaded.
However, nobody heard the Spanglish-speaking Friend as Bloo continued, "I dare you guys to go with me and Goo down to the train station and see if the Ghost Train exists."
"And why should we?" Frankie inquired.
"Frankie, don't you know that you and Mac have been given a dare? It's something not to be taken lightly—it's a fact—once dared, the daree must always do."
Man, karma stinks! Mac thought.
"But if you're too chicken," taunted Bloo, "we'd understand."
"Yeah," nodded Goo, "we understand."
". . . Oh no!" glared Mac. "We're not chicken, right Frankie?"
"I feel like I'm going to regret it later," said Frankie, "but Mac and I accept your challenge."
"All righty then," Goo said, her eyes half closed, "we all meet at the old train station—one hour after lights out."
"You're on!" declared Mac and Frankie in unison as they stared at the hyper girl and the blob Imaginary Friend with eyes in mere slits, the two latter staring back the same way.
Later that night, Mac and his friends went to the old train station via the Foster's bus and climbed out, while Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman stayed behind.
"Remember Grandma," Frankie said seriously to Madame Foster, "if we don't come back in an hour, call me—I have my cell. If I don't answer, then you can worry."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," answered the old lady dismissively, "I'll do that, Frankie. Just you dearies be careful now."
"We will."
As the other friends headed inside, Mac noticed Eduardo trembling. "Ed, if you don't want to come with us, we'd understand—honestly we would."
Eduardo gulped. "Gracias Mac, but no. Eduardo's scared and knows we're all going to die. But I'm not ch-ch-chicken."
Coco snuck up from behind Eduardo and screeched, "COCO!"
"AAAHHH!"
Watching the purple Spanglish-speaking Friend jump, the Bird-airplane-plant Imaginary Friend cackled in his expense.
"I'm sorry Coco, but that was not okay!" scolded Wilt.
Coco, however, just glared and razzed her tongue out at the tall Friend.
"Where the heck is that train?" ranted Bloo. "If we have to wait for it, then forget it."
"You're not holding back on us, are you Bloo?" taunted Mac.
"No, I'm saying that me plus waiting never works—I don't have that kind of attention span. I would have been better off sabotaging Old Man Rivers' lawn."
Frankie glared at that. "Uh, no Bloo, you would've been worse off."
"Give me one good reason why."
The twenty-two-year-old held a fist just an inch from Bloo's frightened face as she threatened, "How about my fist, blob-boy?"
"You know, that's a pretty good reason."
"Okay guys," declared Mac, "we can wait."
Time passed by, and the group of friends still waited on that platform. Mac was leaning against a wall, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes half-closed; Eduardo and Wilt were sitting on a couple of wooden crates, back-to-back, the former trying not to fall asleep; Frankie was pacing; and Coco played a somewhat-foreboding tune from a harmonica, while Goo clicked her fingers and Bloo bobbed his head to the beat before the two latter started singing.
Goo: "They say he lost his mind."
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "Went crazy on that day."
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "And ran his train right off the track."
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "And drove it straight to . . . hey!"
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "Where's the engineer?"
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "Been waiting all night long."
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "Better show up soon."
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
Goo: "Or I'll have to say 'So what.'"
Goo and Bloo: "Woo-woooooo!"
Goo: "Been waiting for Engine 13!"
Bloo: "Dah-dah, dah-dah!"
"WILL YOU GUYS KNOCK THAT OFF!?" shouted a rather peeved Frankie, making everyone jump in surprise. "As if waiting for Engine 13 wasn't bad enough, I have you chuckle-heads annoying me with that stupid harmonica and that hare-brained song you're pulling out of your butt!"
Being the voice of reason in the group, Mac carefully walked up to Frankie during her rage before trying to calm her down. "Now Frankie, just take it easy. I understand that we've been waiting a long time, but maybe it's a sign. Maybe there isn't a haunted train or some mad engineer."
Frankie virtually never had a quarrel with the kind-hearted boy, nor had she snapped at him (at least directly), so for Mac to appease the twenty-two year-old in such a situation wasn't a problem for him as her scowl disappeared, looking a little humbled. "You're probably right, Mac. . . . Look, I'm sorry for blowing up like that, guys."
"Sorry, huh?" asked Bloo angrily as he approached Frankie. "Well, Frankie, guess what? I—" Mac angrily elbowed his Imaginary Friend in the side. The blue-colored blob Friend then stated dully, a ridge above his eyes, "Forgive you."
Suddenly a whistle started to fill the air.
"Coco," Mac said in a deadpan tone of voice, "please stop playing that harmonica."
Coco looked at her friend confusedly. "Cococococo."
"If you weren't playing the harmonica," said Frankie, her voice sounding both confused and intimidated, "then where's that sound . . ."
The redhead trailed off as the ground shook, the whistling sound grew louder, and a white light filled the tunnel, forcing a colony of Bats to fly out frantically. Soon the loud whistle was followed by the sound of a train stopping from behind the group of friends. Slowly turning around, the group of seven gasped at the sight of the spooky-looking train.
"El tren fantasma!" gasped a trembling Eduardo as he hid behind Wilt.
"Engine 13!" gasped Wilt.
"Yes! Ghosts do exist!" happily exclaimed Bloo, jumping up and down. "We won the dare!"
"Up high!" happily exclaimed Goo with either arm in the air before the blob Friend jumped up for a high-five; everyone else (except Eduardo who still trembled at the sight of Engine 13) stared at the two with half-closed eyes.
It was at that moment that the door to one of the train cars slid open, a blinding white light filling the friends' vicinity. As the light died down, the wide-eyed group of seven found themselves inside the haunted train.
"The white light!" whispered Wilt. "It pulled us on!"
Coco gulped. "Cococococo."
"Frankie?" asked Eduardo. "Can we go now?"
". . . Yes!" whimpered the twenty-two-year-old.
"What, and miss out on getting a good look of the mad engineer? No way!" protested Bloo.
"Forget about him—" said Mac uneasily with a clenched jaw—"we're leaving now, Bloo!"
Suddenly the door slid shut with a slam on the group of friends and the train started moving.
"Okay, who's the moron that suggested finding the ghost train!?" blurted Bloo.
"Yeah!" piped up Goo.
Everyone else stared back at them, a serious ridge in their eyes and Eduardo's unibrow an equally serious straight line.
"What?" Goo and Bloo shrugged confusedly.
Soon a yellowish fume hung above their heads and it was only a moment before it reached Frankie's nose.
"Pew! What's that stench!?" complained the redhead.
"I don't want to point any fingers," quipped the blob Imaginary Friend, "but I suggest asking Wilt—he's been playing the most basketball."
"It's not that kind of smell, stupid!"
"Frankie's right—" Mac stated—"it smells like . . ."
As the little boy trailed off, everybody sniffed the air before exclaiming, "Rotten eggs!"
"Coco!" gagged Coco.
"¡Qué asco!" coughed Eduardo.
"The smell of fire and brimstone! It's one of the signs!" Mac exclaimed.
Soon the air filled with something just as bad, if not worse, than the rank stench of rotten eggs/fire and brimstone.
"Uhh, do you guys hear what I hear?" Wilt inquired.
"You mean that horribly ear-splitting and possibly inhuman music?" queried Frankie.
"I dunno what you guys are talking about—" shrugged Goo—"the music really doesn't sound that bad as Madame Foster put it."
As the terrible music dragged on, Eduardo was the first to crack. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! We're all going to die! We're all going to die! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Latino Friend then ran from one end of the train car to the other, banging his fists on the door.
"Eduardo, control yourself!" Mac frantically exclaimed.
"I do believe in loco engineers—I do believe in haunted trains—I do, I do, I do!"
Soon the lights began flickering before all went black. The only thing that could be seen were the friends' eyes.
"Coco!" exclaimed the frightened Bird-airplane-plant Imaginary Friend.
"Oh my gosh guys, it's the zone of darkness!" gasped Goo.
"Next stop is—" Mac started grimly before being interrupted.
"No, please Mac!" pleaded Bloo. "Don't say it, please!"
Outside the train car, an eerie red light filled the windows as the lights started to flicker again.
"Bloo," said Frankie in a trembling voice, "we're already there."
Throwing his arms in the air, the blob Imaginary Friend started screaming as he ran in a circle around his friends, with Wilt looking down at him uneasily.
"It's the underworld!" exclaimed Eduardo as he tried hiding his head, tears flying out of his eyes. "I can feel its flames blowing down Eduardo's neck!"
Amongst the flickering lights, a long shadow crept up behind the purple-furred Imaginary Friend before Bloo latched on to either of his friend's horns. As they looked up at the demon's eyes and grin that had an eerie similarity to the face of Disturbed's band mascot, Bloo and Eduardo screamed.
As for the demon himself, he laughed evilly . . . and stupidly.
Everybody paused as they recognized that laugh, for as the lights came back on, the demon turned out to be Mac's cruel big brother Terrence.
"Gotcha!" Terrence laughed.
"Terrence!" Everybody shouted angrily in unison at Mac's abusive brother.
"You nearly scared us to death!" Mac shouted angrily.
"What're you talking about?" shrugged the malevolent thirteen-year-old with a smirk. "I would've tried harder on you losers."
"I'm sorry, but that was not okay!" glared Wilt.
"What are you doing here anyway, Terrence?" Frankie glowered.
"Duh! I followed you here!" sneered Terrence with a roll of his eyes. "Thought I might scare the pants off of all you losers! And I did too, didn't I? Hahaha! You should've seen the looks on your faces!"
While Terrence laughed on evilly, yet stupidly, the group of seven scowled darkly at him for a moment.
From outside the train, Mac slid the train car door opened, while Bloo and Frankie were holding onto Terrence like a wooden plank.
"I'm telling Mom on you, Mac!" yelled Terrence irately.
"Right," scoffed the little boy, "like she'll ever believe you."
And with that, Frankie and Bloo gave Terrence the old heave-ho and threw him into a muddy river that Engine 13 was just passing by. Bobbing out of the mud, spluttering, Terrence looked back at the disappearing train and shook his fist.
Back in their train car looking satisfied, Mac dusted his hands while Frankie and Bloo knuckle-pounded.
"I see it!" Goo exclaimed looking out the window. "It must be the fire!"
As everyone else looked out the windows, they saw the fiery inferno of what looked to be the underworld. Soon the train came to a complete stop.
"It is the end!" Bloo yelled out in a tragic sounding voice.
As everyone else looked defeated, Eduardo got an idea before turning around and looking at the fire hose coiled up in its old case. The Latino Friend's unibrow turned into a serious straight line as he declared boldly, "I know what we must do."
As he headed for the fire hose, with his friends staring at him in disbelief, Eduardo uncoiled it and held the nozzle at the ready.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Ed?" asked Wilt.
"I might be chicken," declared the purple-furred Friend, "but I'm no quitter. Open the door."
Gulping for a second, Frankie pulled the door open and there everyone was greeted by an ominous looking silhouette.
"Back off, demonio!" shouted Eduardo as he turned on the hose full blast.
The supposed demon screamed and spluttered. "Stop! I give up! I give up!"
As Eduardo turned off the water, he and his other friends looked out confusedly only to see a bunch of workers with hard hats, including the "demon" who looked very much like Quinn the pizza delivery guy.
"What did I do? What did I do?" asked Quinn.
"Weird—" stated Bloo—"that demon looks familiar."
"Err, Bloo," Mac said uneasily, "I don't think he's a demon."
"Hey, what's going on here!?" exclaimed somebody from off-screen with a voice that uncannily sounded like Kevin Michael Richardson's.
Turning around, the seven confused friends stared at a tall brawny engineer who looked like Delroy Lindo with a Paul Sr. style moustache. "What are y'all doing here? Nobody's allowed on the train but the steel mill workers."
"The steel mill?" asked Mac in disbelief. "We're at the steel mill?"
"Well sure, kid—where'd you think you were?"
"You mean the train isn't haunted?" Bloo queried.
"Haunted?" inquired the engineer in surprise before face-palming himself in realization. "Oh man, not that story again. Listen, the train here's for relief workers."
"But what about the smell?" asked Frankie.
The engineer cocked an eyebrow. "Girl, have you ever been to a steel mill before? It's the sulfur here." He then spoke aside to them. "Smells like rotten eggs, don't it?"
"Oh, sí," nodded Eduardo, "it smells muy much like rotten eggs. But what about the lights?"
"The lights?" asked the engineer. "They're always going on and off in the car here, big guy."
"Cocococo?" asked Coco.
"Yeah, what about that ear-splitting music?" asked Bloo. "I thought my ears would explode. If I had any."
"Ah well," grumbled the engineer before pulling out an accordion, "I guess some people don't appreciate the polka."
"Actually," Goo grinned, "I thought it was pretty good."
"Well thank you, young lady." The engineer then became serious again. "But anyhow, does that explain everything?"
Mac sighed. "Yes, sir."
"We're sorry. Is that okay?" apologized Wilt.
"Eh, yeah," shrugged the engineer, "I guess so—no harm, no foul. Now then, let's get y'all back on the right train home."
Everyone else met up with Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman back on the Foster's bus as Frankie drove everyone back.
"A fire hose against the fires of the underworld?" inquired Mr. Herriman. "I find that actually humorous, Master Eduardo."
"I guess that is funny isn't it, Señor Herriman?" chuckled Eduardo.
"Not a bad plan at all, hee-hee-hee!" cackled Madame Foster jovially.
"I guess we all let our imaginations get the best of us didn't we?" Wilt grinned.
"Yeah," sighed a crestfallen Goo, "I guess so."
Bloo pouted. "I can't believe we didn't find that haunted train."
Mac smirked. "I think you set us up, Madame Foster."
Coco firmly nodded once in agreement, a smirk on her beak. "Co-co."
"Well, at least you dearies weren't bored were ya?" shrugged the old lady.
"Grandma," smirked Frankie, "you knew all along there was no haunted train."
Mr. Herriman and Madame Foster looked at one and the other with sly half-closed eyes before the latter smirked. "Well now we didn't say that."
While the group of friends headed back to Foster's, elsewhere stomping and trying to clean off the mud that dried on his clothes was Terrence, muttering angrily himself. He didn't notice the train tracks before he heard Engine 13 coming.
As the train headed for him, a screaming Terrence ducked into a nearby bush before peering out, trembling, as a figure that matched the description of the mad engineer materialized out of nowhere with an accordion in his hands as he sang a foreboding song in a deep voice.
So what did you think of the short story? Notice some of the other references that were used in a few FHFIF episodes? As a recap, it's the first in a series of other short parodies, so expect more to be written (eventually). Feel free to review!
(P.S.: Please note that when writing reviews, please no profanity or blasphemy. For examples, check out the guidelines in my profile.
Until then, keep up the good writing!)
