Author's Note: Flippy's been running around in my brain lately, and the only way to get him out is to write some fanfiction, so here it is. It's set after the Double Whammy episodes, but his evil side was never really eliminated. It just disappeared for a while and came back worse than ever. I do not own Happy Tree Friends.

Ring…ring…ring…

The persistent noise of the alarm clock pierced like a knife into the cushioned realm of Flippy's dream. He groaned and pounded the snooze button, but the bright summer sun drove him out of bed. He had lost the daily battle against conciousness, and now it was time for the war. He stumbled groggily into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. The water was always cold, never warm, even for his showers. Warm water reminded him too much of blood, and things like that never ended well.. Flippy caught a glimpse in the mirror of his savage half in his dark jade eyes that so closely matched his fur when it wasn't matted with blood. Sweet, crimson, warm, delicious…he shook his head to stave off the bloodlust that threatened to overcome him. He opened the medicine cabinet, careful to avoid the eyes of his own reflection, and took a pawful of pills. He hesitated, then took another. He walked out the door and began his ritual stroll to the coffee shop for his morning cup of (cold) coffee and his bagel. When he got there, however, the lights were off and the door locked. He peered in and tapped on the glass.

"Hello?" he called. Receiving no answer, he shrugged. He stepped away from the door and was surprised to feel a paper envelope under his paw. His evil half's attention was peaked, and it mentally uncoiled like an awakening viper

"Back off," Flippy mentally hissed at it, "Since when does mail have anything to do with that?" his evil half retreated, surprised at Flippy's assertiveness.

"Well, well, aren't we touchy today?" It whispered in its deep, snakelike voice. Flippy ignored him and opened the letter. He read it with increasing confusion.

"Hi Flippy,

As you may have noticed, the coffee shop is closed. Don't come looking for us, we've all left, and I can't tell you where to. I can't tell you much, just that this is for your own good. Wait at the purple-splattered bench. Someone will explain it to you there. Destroy this note any way you can, but BE CAREFUL!

Signed, Your friends

PS: Buck up, soldier, this'll all turn out fine, we promise"

Flippy frowned, studying the note and recognizing Flaky's handwriting. He crumpled up the note and swallowed it.

"LAME!" His evil half jeered, "Couldn't you have at least lit it on fire?" Flippy sneered.

"Exactly what part of 'Be Careful' eludes you?" he snapped back mentally

"All two words, professor," It replied mockingly. Flippy gave a little grunt of fustration, turning back and walking to the nearby park. He sat on a green bench with a splatter of bright purple paint that was left over from an incident involving Lumpy, thumbtacks, and , unfortunately, Evil Flippy.

"Good times," it muttered. Flippy ignored it and waited. Soon, a voice penetrated his boredom.

"Lieutenant Flippy," a cool female voice said from in front of him. Flippy was surprised. Nobody had addressed him by his military rank since he had come to town. He looked up. There was an attractive tabby she-cat with golden eyes standing in front of him.. She wore camoflage clothes and her posture screamed, "Military"

"Hubba hubba," said Evil Flippy.

"Shut up!" Flippy replied mentally.

"Allow me to introduce myself, Lieutenant. I am General Artemis," The cat said. Flippy saluted her, and Artemis returned it. She sat down next to him on the bench."I have the solution to your problem," she said bluntly. Flippy couldn't believe his ears.

"What did you say, sir? I-I mean ma'am!" he blurted out. Artemis smiled.

"I know how to keep you from losing control and going on rampages," she explained.

"With all due respect, ma'am, so does every therapist in the phone book. None of them have even come close to eliminating that monster," he said quietly.

"Oh, Flippy, flattery will get you nowhere," Evil Flippy teased.

"No common therapist,"Artemis spat the last word like a curse, "would ever even dream of going to the lengths I will to eliminate it." Flippy's curiosity kicked into overdrive.

"What lengths? Whatever it is, I'll do it! I'd do anything to get rid of him!"

Artemis leaned toward him, golden eyes locking with obsidian, holding Flippy motionless.

"Tell me. Have you ever seen a person's personality be completely and utterly destroyed, so that they are no more than soulless zombies? So that they don't react? Not to anything?" Flippy nodded. He had seen it exactly once, and that was one too many times. All things considered, he was almost lucky to be diagnosed with the most severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in psyciatric history. "We plan to do this to your…shall we say, more troublesome half by placing you in an environment in which it shall remain in a state of constant simulation, then systematically destroy it, while the real you remains safely in the subconscious. There will be, of course, physical damage, but nothing irreversible," Artemis explained, her eyes never leaving his.

"Damn, I thought you were crazy, but this is one psyco bitch. Dibs." Evil Flippy hissed in Flippy's mind.

"SHUT UP! YOU BASTARD!" Flippy shouted, realizing too late he had said it out loud. He blushed. "S-sorry, i-it was the-," he cleared his throught. "I'll do it." Artemis took his paw and led him over to a huge, eighteen-wheel truck, rolling up the back door. Flippy climbed in, glancing nervously around the bare metal interior of the truck. The door closed with a metallic bang, plunging the truck into complete darkness. Flippy hyperventilated as he felt an all-too-familiar chill up his spine. The killer inside him was emerging. The truck lurched forward. Flippy's war against himself had begun again.