Disclaimer: I don't feel the need for these. I mean, come on. It's called . You would think people would know they don't own the characters; otherwise it wouldn't be, you know, FANFICTION. Regardless, I feel it is enforced upon us by the lesser beings known as the moderators, and therefore I will pretend to go along with their on-a-treadmill scheme while secretly planning further revenge to be enacted when I get older and find better things to do. So here it is: I don't own Clvn&Hbbs.
My dear, I'm turning into Calvin.
Calvin lay in his bed, pondering his past as an evil genius, his present as a cartoonist, and his future as a writer. He was 25 now, and was living with his wife, Susie. He now found it terribly ironic that the woman he married was the same girl that he had resented so much as a kid, especially since the feeling had been mutual.
He remembered all the good times he had, and all the bad times he had. He remembered Susie coming home with a positive pregnancy test, and him anticipating the child, who would arrive tonight. He hadn't been able to go because of tax issues.
He still wasn't sure what to name the baby. Calvin planned to name him after a loved one from his childhood, but he couldn't find anyone that worked. In childhood it had just been him, and Susie, and—
"That's it!"
He ran upstairs to the attic and prayed that he was still there. It took a while, but he finally found the old, worn out tiger in a box. But now it was just a tiger.
Calvin still wasn't sure if Hobbes had been a real tiger, a figment of his imagination, or both! He thought hard. He began to worry, but after five minutes, Hobbes was as he knew and loved—a full body, lean, mean, pouncing machine.
"Long time, no see."
"You said it."
They both laughed. They talked about life apart, they ate tuna sandwiches (Calvin liked those now), they even tried to play Calvinball, but it just wasn't as fun anymore.
"So, Hobbes."
"Yea, Calvin?"
"A baby's coming."
"Really? Congrats."
"I was thinking of naming it Hobbes."
"That's the best name in the universe."
They laughed once more.
"Sometimes I wish I could relive some of those good moments."
"Me too, Calvin. Me too."
When the baby arrived, they eventually named it Calvin, after you-know-who. He was raised, thankfully not as much of a troublemaker as Calvin, but a troublemaker nonetheless. And when Calvin II turned six, he received a very special present, one worth more than any RC car, gaming system, or little red spaceship:
A stuffed tiger named Hobbes.
THE END