* I sadly am not the owner of Randall Boggs or Monsters Inc., but
Val Boggs is mine. This is the story of Val and Randall's days in high
school. Just so you know, it's the 80's, my favorite decade. It's 1987, to
be specific. Val's into Rock 'n Roll, and Randall's going for New Wave, it
could happen. I hope you enjoy this and don't think it's stupid. Enjoy,
dudes. *
Chapter 1: A Quiet Morning at the Boggs Home
The ear-splitting scream of my alarm clock brought me out of my peaceful sleep. I had been dreaming about Susan Serigate. She was the most beautiful monster at Monstropolis High. I don't know what it was about her. Maybe, it was the way she moved. They way all ten of her legs seemed to flow in one fluid motion. Or, maybe it was the way all five of her eyes reflected the sun or it could have been her beautiful red scales. I just didn't know, but anyway, she was hot.
I opened my eyes and looked at my clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. I hated getting up so early in the mornings, but I had to get ready for school. School wasn't as much of a chore as a necessity, but I still hated it. I'd rather stay home and listen to my albums or go to the mall and play Space Invaders.
I had forgotten to get a shower last night and now I was paying the price. Being a reptile and all, I didn't sweat. Also I didn't smell that much, but still, I had to keep my scales looking shiny and new with a weekly shower. If I was ever going to bag Susan, I had to look my best, as I always did.
My room was dimly lit from the still rising sun. I could see my piles of rock records in the corner, next to the turntable. The walls were painted an almost black purple, the curtains were the same color. I had about twenty or so rock n' roll posters hanging on the walls and pinned to the ceiling. All my favorite rock bands and singers were there; AC/DC, Def Leppard, Pink Floyd, Lars Smetter, and Zid Carmichael, just to name a few.
I pulled the silky sheets off and climbed out of the bed. The wooly, warm carpet felt good under my four feet. I wiggled my toes happily and headed toward the bathroom. My bathroom connected to my bedroom. I unbuttoned my Iron Maiden pajama shirt and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I threw my shirt into the laundry basket and climbed in the shower. The steamy hot water felt good on my cool scales. Within a few minutes the shower had warmed my cold blood to a more comfortable temperature.
I grabbed a bottle of scale conditioner and poured out a handful. I rubbed it in all four of my hands and lathered it on. The conditioner tingled on my scales, it was really soothing. It had a nice smell to it, almost like spoiled milk. It said on the bottle that it would attract girls like a magnet. I didn't believe it, but it was worth a try.
After about twenty minutes, I got out of the shower and toweled off. I looked in the mirror and smiled. Most people thought I was pretty hansom, for a reptile. I didn't think I looked that good. But, I looked better than most. Not having actual skin with oil glands and all that, I didn't have acne. While most monsters my age were wasting away in front of their mirrors moaning and groaning about their newest zit, I was eating breakfast.
I concentrated for a moment and the next second the image in the mirror vanished. I had been practicing my camouflage skills for a few weeks and I had just gotten the hang of it. My brother Randall had been able to do it for the past six months, but hey, he's a year older than me. What can I say? I reappeared in the mirror.
I ran my hands through my fronds and walked back into my room. I walked over to my closet and opened the door. Inside were all my shirts, boots, and my prized possession, my four-sleeved leather biker jacket. It had more zippers, buttons and rock pins than could be counted. And cresting the two top shoulders of my jacket were silver spikes. It was beautiful. I had had it for two years and it still looked, and smelled new.
I thumbed through my shirts deciding which one to wear. "Hmm. Should I wear the Pink Floyd shirt, or the Led Zeppelin shirt," I chuckled and rubbed my chin like I was making an important decision. Finally I picked one. "I'll go for The Wall shirt," I grabbed the Pink Floyd shirt and slid it over my head.
I walked over to my radio and pressed the power button. One of my favorites was just starting to play on the radio, Animal by Def Leppard. I grabbed up my two pairs of black combat boots and walked over to the bed. I sat down and started tying them up. The song was really blasting out of my radio. I didn't believe in playing a good rock song at a low volume. My mom still asks how I don't go deaf.
"A wild ride, over stony ground. Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town.
We are the hungry ones, on a lightning raid. Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame, I burn for you. I gotta' feel it in my blood. Oh whoa! I need your touch don't need your love. Oh whoa! And I want, and I need, and I lust Animal!"
It didn't take long to get my boots nice and tight on my feet. Just like my jacket, they looked like new. The leather on the boots glistened in the light from my window. The strings were in pristine condition. In other words, my boots were gnarly.
"I cry wolf, given mouth to mouth. Like a movin' heartbeat in the witching hour. I'm runnin' with the wind, a shadow in the dust, and like the drivin' rain. Yeah! Like the restless rust, I never sleep. I gotta feel it in my blood. Oh whoa! I need your touch don't need your love. Oh whoa! And I want, and I need, and I lust. Animal!"
I turned off my radio, and grabbed my leather jacket and slid into it. My boots clomped and stomped all the way down the stairs as I made my way to the kitchen. Mom and Randall were both sitting at the table. Dad was already at work. He worked at Monsters Inc. He was the top scarer and therefore he made the most money. I think like a hundred-thou a year. That's why mom could stay home and take care of her "little angels." At times, mom was a little crazy. Unlike most parents, she didn't have a problem with my clothes, music, or any of my friends. She was as close to "cool" as a mom could be.
In the kitchen, Randall was sitting at the table, mom was moving around, trying to stay as busy as possible. She got board easily. Unlike me, Randall didn't go much for leather; he was into "New Wave". Stuff like Flock of Sea Gulls, Squeeze, and some band called "The Fixx." He was wearing a black dress shirt, a thin piano key necktie, and four pairs of brand new black and white checkered tennis shoes. He also had his fronds done up in what resembled a seagull. Go figure. Mom was wearing a black A- line skirt and a pink blouse. She had her hair pulled up in a neat bun. I sat down at the table.
"Hey sweetie," she would always say. "How are you doing this morning?" She smiled at me. Randall choked back a laugh.
"I'm fine mom. What's for breakfast?" I smiled back, Randall was dieing in his seat.
"I cooked some eggs and some new kind of sausage I bought at the store. It was on sale." If it was on sale, mom would buy it. She kissed me on the cheek. Then, to my relief, she walked over and gave Randall a little peck. I grinned at him while mom wasn't looking. "That sound good to you boys?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure mom. Sounds great," Randall and I both answered at the same time. We knew how to keep mom happy, because if mom wasn't happy, nobody was happy. If Randall and me were going to argue, we'd do it out of mom's range of sight and hearing, or face the consequences.
She smiled and walked over to the stove. I could smell the eggs. They had a pretty good aroma, but what I guessed was the new sausages did not smell good. Mom got two plates ready and poured two glasses of orange juice with both pairs of her hands. She tapped one of her high heel shoes on the tile floor as she worked. She let her bright green tail sway gently behind her in a happy motion. Thankfully, she was apparently in a good mood.
She turned around and brought us both out food. I looked down at my plate. The eggs look normal. They were blood red, but the sausage, which was usually green, was a dark brown color. I looked up at mom and faked a smile. "They look good," I lied through my teeth. I was pretty good at that; going to school after all, I had plenty of practice
She just smiled back and said, "Well, then dig in." She walked off into the living room. I looked over at Randall, who was just about to take a bite of his breakfast. He bit into the brown piece of meat and I swear, he turned white as marble. He spit the sausage back up so fast it flew across the kitchen and landed in the garbage can.
I almost died laughing, "Great shot Randall!" I couldn't control myself. I clapped my hands in hysteria. Randall was now sucking down his glass of orange juice as fast as he could in a feeble attempt to get the taste out of his mouth.
"Ha," he said dully, obviously he didn't see the humor in the situation. He cleared his throat. "Okay, how about you take a bite." He gave me one of his famous smirks. I think he practiced in front of a mirror to develop a smirk like that. Another year or to and it could be a "trade mark."
"Okay, uh, I will," I smiled at him. I took my fork and scured a piece of the sausage. Grease slowly oozed out as my fork stabbed it. I raise it to eye level and stuck it in my mouth. It tasted like an old sweaty sock. It was great! "Ranball, how coulb you no like dis?" I asked with my mouth full.
"What did you say?" Randall quirked an eyebrow, he didn't catch a word of what I just said. "I don't speak imbecile.
I ignored his last comment, swallowed my food, and repeated what I said, "How could you not like this?" I put another forkful of sausage and eggs in my mouthed and chewed happily. I was even happier about how sick Randall looked watching me eat. I started smacking my food to add to the effect. If I did it long enough, maybe he'd barf.
"That 'food' isn't good enough for a human. I don't know why you like it," he answered, getting up to get another glass of orange juice, and throw away his breakfast. He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "But, being a 'Psychotic Rock-Head' I'm not surprised you'd like something like that."
I just smiled and flipped him "the bird" with my bottom hands and continued eating with the others. "Whatever, dude." Randall just rolled his eyes. I shoveled another glob of eggs into my mouth. They were just as good as the sausage. As Randall put his clean plate in the sink, mom came back in.
"So, how was it?" she asked. Her face was as bright as it had been when she left. Mom always seemed happy and energetic. Probably because she never really did anything tiring, she always had a crazed frantic look about her.
"I loved it," I said, "It was great. You should cook this more often." I stood up and carried my empty plate to the sink.
She looked over at Randall, "Did you like it, hon?"
Randall hesitated for a moment and then spoke, "Yeah, it was delicious."
"Well, good. Now both of you go upstairs and brush your teeth. The bus will be here in twenty minutes. Oh, and Randall, when you leave, grab a coat, it's supposed to be a little cool today." She said. Ever since Randall got the flu at age six, mom has been paranoid about him getting it again.
"Okay mom," he said. More than likely he'd forget anyway.
We both walked upstairs into the hallway bathroom to brush our teeth. "So, Randall, you got any plans for after school?" I looked over at where he was, he was gone. "Randall?"
"I'm going over to the DMV to get my learner's permit after school," he said as he appeared behind me. I almost jump out of my skin, but, like I said, I didn't have skin, so there wasn't really a problem. He was laughing his head off. "Now we're even about breakfast!"
"Yeah, yeah. We're even." I restrained myself from planting a few fists in his face. "Anyway, I'm planning on going to the mall. I heard the record got in a shipment of Cheap Trick albums." I spit some toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out my mouth.
"Records? Come on Val, it's 1987, there's something out called "CD's" you know?" He asked with one of his arms over my shoulder and one of his others waving slowly in front of me like a car sales monster. He just didn't get it. I liked records; vinyl had a sound to it that couldn't be put on a "CD."
"I know, but I don't have a CD player. And anyway, I like records," I said while I messed with my fronds in the mirror.
Randall just sighed and walked out of the bathroom. After I grabbed my wallet from my room and put it in my jacket, I went downstairs. Randall had amazingly put on his red jacket. We both got our books for school and walked out the front door, only after hugs and kisses from "Psycho Mom." As I said, I didn't really like school, but Randall didn't hate it just as much as I did, but we both sure hated waiting for the bus. Finally, it pulled up and stopped with a screeching sound from its tires. It was yellow, of course, with eight wheels and a bunch of busted out windows. The paint was peeling in a bunch of places and the bus sign on top was gone, probably stolen. We both got on and in a seat and the bus slowly pulled away.
I hope you liked this. Unlike Miami Heat, I plan to continue writing this story. The next chapter will deal with Randall and Val's friends at school and what not. And now for the boring part, the copy rights. Led Zeppelin, Cheap Trick, AC/DC, Def Leppard and Animal, Flock of Sea Gulls, The Fixx, Iron Maiden, Pink Floyd and The Wall, and Squeeze are all copy righten to their respective owners. So don't try to sue me.
Chapter 1: A Quiet Morning at the Boggs Home
The ear-splitting scream of my alarm clock brought me out of my peaceful sleep. I had been dreaming about Susan Serigate. She was the most beautiful monster at Monstropolis High. I don't know what it was about her. Maybe, it was the way she moved. They way all ten of her legs seemed to flow in one fluid motion. Or, maybe it was the way all five of her eyes reflected the sun or it could have been her beautiful red scales. I just didn't know, but anyway, she was hot.
I opened my eyes and looked at my clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. I hated getting up so early in the mornings, but I had to get ready for school. School wasn't as much of a chore as a necessity, but I still hated it. I'd rather stay home and listen to my albums or go to the mall and play Space Invaders.
I had forgotten to get a shower last night and now I was paying the price. Being a reptile and all, I didn't sweat. Also I didn't smell that much, but still, I had to keep my scales looking shiny and new with a weekly shower. If I was ever going to bag Susan, I had to look my best, as I always did.
My room was dimly lit from the still rising sun. I could see my piles of rock records in the corner, next to the turntable. The walls were painted an almost black purple, the curtains were the same color. I had about twenty or so rock n' roll posters hanging on the walls and pinned to the ceiling. All my favorite rock bands and singers were there; AC/DC, Def Leppard, Pink Floyd, Lars Smetter, and Zid Carmichael, just to name a few.
I pulled the silky sheets off and climbed out of the bed. The wooly, warm carpet felt good under my four feet. I wiggled my toes happily and headed toward the bathroom. My bathroom connected to my bedroom. I unbuttoned my Iron Maiden pajama shirt and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I threw my shirt into the laundry basket and climbed in the shower. The steamy hot water felt good on my cool scales. Within a few minutes the shower had warmed my cold blood to a more comfortable temperature.
I grabbed a bottle of scale conditioner and poured out a handful. I rubbed it in all four of my hands and lathered it on. The conditioner tingled on my scales, it was really soothing. It had a nice smell to it, almost like spoiled milk. It said on the bottle that it would attract girls like a magnet. I didn't believe it, but it was worth a try.
After about twenty minutes, I got out of the shower and toweled off. I looked in the mirror and smiled. Most people thought I was pretty hansom, for a reptile. I didn't think I looked that good. But, I looked better than most. Not having actual skin with oil glands and all that, I didn't have acne. While most monsters my age were wasting away in front of their mirrors moaning and groaning about their newest zit, I was eating breakfast.
I concentrated for a moment and the next second the image in the mirror vanished. I had been practicing my camouflage skills for a few weeks and I had just gotten the hang of it. My brother Randall had been able to do it for the past six months, but hey, he's a year older than me. What can I say? I reappeared in the mirror.
I ran my hands through my fronds and walked back into my room. I walked over to my closet and opened the door. Inside were all my shirts, boots, and my prized possession, my four-sleeved leather biker jacket. It had more zippers, buttons and rock pins than could be counted. And cresting the two top shoulders of my jacket were silver spikes. It was beautiful. I had had it for two years and it still looked, and smelled new.
I thumbed through my shirts deciding which one to wear. "Hmm. Should I wear the Pink Floyd shirt, or the Led Zeppelin shirt," I chuckled and rubbed my chin like I was making an important decision. Finally I picked one. "I'll go for The Wall shirt," I grabbed the Pink Floyd shirt and slid it over my head.
I walked over to my radio and pressed the power button. One of my favorites was just starting to play on the radio, Animal by Def Leppard. I grabbed up my two pairs of black combat boots and walked over to the bed. I sat down and started tying them up. The song was really blasting out of my radio. I didn't believe in playing a good rock song at a low volume. My mom still asks how I don't go deaf.
"A wild ride, over stony ground. Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town.
We are the hungry ones, on a lightning raid. Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame, I burn for you. I gotta' feel it in my blood. Oh whoa! I need your touch don't need your love. Oh whoa! And I want, and I need, and I lust Animal!"
It didn't take long to get my boots nice and tight on my feet. Just like my jacket, they looked like new. The leather on the boots glistened in the light from my window. The strings were in pristine condition. In other words, my boots were gnarly.
"I cry wolf, given mouth to mouth. Like a movin' heartbeat in the witching hour. I'm runnin' with the wind, a shadow in the dust, and like the drivin' rain. Yeah! Like the restless rust, I never sleep. I gotta feel it in my blood. Oh whoa! I need your touch don't need your love. Oh whoa! And I want, and I need, and I lust. Animal!"
I turned off my radio, and grabbed my leather jacket and slid into it. My boots clomped and stomped all the way down the stairs as I made my way to the kitchen. Mom and Randall were both sitting at the table. Dad was already at work. He worked at Monsters Inc. He was the top scarer and therefore he made the most money. I think like a hundred-thou a year. That's why mom could stay home and take care of her "little angels." At times, mom was a little crazy. Unlike most parents, she didn't have a problem with my clothes, music, or any of my friends. She was as close to "cool" as a mom could be.
In the kitchen, Randall was sitting at the table, mom was moving around, trying to stay as busy as possible. She got board easily. Unlike me, Randall didn't go much for leather; he was into "New Wave". Stuff like Flock of Sea Gulls, Squeeze, and some band called "The Fixx." He was wearing a black dress shirt, a thin piano key necktie, and four pairs of brand new black and white checkered tennis shoes. He also had his fronds done up in what resembled a seagull. Go figure. Mom was wearing a black A- line skirt and a pink blouse. She had her hair pulled up in a neat bun. I sat down at the table.
"Hey sweetie," she would always say. "How are you doing this morning?" She smiled at me. Randall choked back a laugh.
"I'm fine mom. What's for breakfast?" I smiled back, Randall was dieing in his seat.
"I cooked some eggs and some new kind of sausage I bought at the store. It was on sale." If it was on sale, mom would buy it. She kissed me on the cheek. Then, to my relief, she walked over and gave Randall a little peck. I grinned at him while mom wasn't looking. "That sound good to you boys?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure mom. Sounds great," Randall and I both answered at the same time. We knew how to keep mom happy, because if mom wasn't happy, nobody was happy. If Randall and me were going to argue, we'd do it out of mom's range of sight and hearing, or face the consequences.
She smiled and walked over to the stove. I could smell the eggs. They had a pretty good aroma, but what I guessed was the new sausages did not smell good. Mom got two plates ready and poured two glasses of orange juice with both pairs of her hands. She tapped one of her high heel shoes on the tile floor as she worked. She let her bright green tail sway gently behind her in a happy motion. Thankfully, she was apparently in a good mood.
She turned around and brought us both out food. I looked down at my plate. The eggs look normal. They were blood red, but the sausage, which was usually green, was a dark brown color. I looked up at mom and faked a smile. "They look good," I lied through my teeth. I was pretty good at that; going to school after all, I had plenty of practice
She just smiled back and said, "Well, then dig in." She walked off into the living room. I looked over at Randall, who was just about to take a bite of his breakfast. He bit into the brown piece of meat and I swear, he turned white as marble. He spit the sausage back up so fast it flew across the kitchen and landed in the garbage can.
I almost died laughing, "Great shot Randall!" I couldn't control myself. I clapped my hands in hysteria. Randall was now sucking down his glass of orange juice as fast as he could in a feeble attempt to get the taste out of his mouth.
"Ha," he said dully, obviously he didn't see the humor in the situation. He cleared his throat. "Okay, how about you take a bite." He gave me one of his famous smirks. I think he practiced in front of a mirror to develop a smirk like that. Another year or to and it could be a "trade mark."
"Okay, uh, I will," I smiled at him. I took my fork and scured a piece of the sausage. Grease slowly oozed out as my fork stabbed it. I raise it to eye level and stuck it in my mouth. It tasted like an old sweaty sock. It was great! "Ranball, how coulb you no like dis?" I asked with my mouth full.
"What did you say?" Randall quirked an eyebrow, he didn't catch a word of what I just said. "I don't speak imbecile.
I ignored his last comment, swallowed my food, and repeated what I said, "How could you not like this?" I put another forkful of sausage and eggs in my mouthed and chewed happily. I was even happier about how sick Randall looked watching me eat. I started smacking my food to add to the effect. If I did it long enough, maybe he'd barf.
"That 'food' isn't good enough for a human. I don't know why you like it," he answered, getting up to get another glass of orange juice, and throw away his breakfast. He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "But, being a 'Psychotic Rock-Head' I'm not surprised you'd like something like that."
I just smiled and flipped him "the bird" with my bottom hands and continued eating with the others. "Whatever, dude." Randall just rolled his eyes. I shoveled another glob of eggs into my mouth. They were just as good as the sausage. As Randall put his clean plate in the sink, mom came back in.
"So, how was it?" she asked. Her face was as bright as it had been when she left. Mom always seemed happy and energetic. Probably because she never really did anything tiring, she always had a crazed frantic look about her.
"I loved it," I said, "It was great. You should cook this more often." I stood up and carried my empty plate to the sink.
She looked over at Randall, "Did you like it, hon?"
Randall hesitated for a moment and then spoke, "Yeah, it was delicious."
"Well, good. Now both of you go upstairs and brush your teeth. The bus will be here in twenty minutes. Oh, and Randall, when you leave, grab a coat, it's supposed to be a little cool today." She said. Ever since Randall got the flu at age six, mom has been paranoid about him getting it again.
"Okay mom," he said. More than likely he'd forget anyway.
We both walked upstairs into the hallway bathroom to brush our teeth. "So, Randall, you got any plans for after school?" I looked over at where he was, he was gone. "Randall?"
"I'm going over to the DMV to get my learner's permit after school," he said as he appeared behind me. I almost jump out of my skin, but, like I said, I didn't have skin, so there wasn't really a problem. He was laughing his head off. "Now we're even about breakfast!"
"Yeah, yeah. We're even." I restrained myself from planting a few fists in his face. "Anyway, I'm planning on going to the mall. I heard the record got in a shipment of Cheap Trick albums." I spit some toothpaste into the sink and rinsed out my mouth.
"Records? Come on Val, it's 1987, there's something out called "CD's" you know?" He asked with one of his arms over my shoulder and one of his others waving slowly in front of me like a car sales monster. He just didn't get it. I liked records; vinyl had a sound to it that couldn't be put on a "CD."
"I know, but I don't have a CD player. And anyway, I like records," I said while I messed with my fronds in the mirror.
Randall just sighed and walked out of the bathroom. After I grabbed my wallet from my room and put it in my jacket, I went downstairs. Randall had amazingly put on his red jacket. We both got our books for school and walked out the front door, only after hugs and kisses from "Psycho Mom." As I said, I didn't really like school, but Randall didn't hate it just as much as I did, but we both sure hated waiting for the bus. Finally, it pulled up and stopped with a screeching sound from its tires. It was yellow, of course, with eight wheels and a bunch of busted out windows. The paint was peeling in a bunch of places and the bus sign on top was gone, probably stolen. We both got on and in a seat and the bus slowly pulled away.
I hope you liked this. Unlike Miami Heat, I plan to continue writing this story. The next chapter will deal with Randall and Val's friends at school and what not. And now for the boring part, the copy rights. Led Zeppelin, Cheap Trick, AC/DC, Def Leppard and Animal, Flock of Sea Gulls, The Fixx, Iron Maiden, Pink Floyd and The Wall, and Squeeze are all copy righten to their respective owners. So don't try to sue me.