Hello friend-os :) *As mentioned in my profile, I write the characters to be in cartoon-verse at all times. Chapter one: You're stepping on my toes!
This is my first official fanfic, so try your hardest to be kind to lil ol' me. This has been brewing in my mind for a while, and I really wanted to get it out on paper (finally!) so here I go.
Perhaps one day I'll write a CGI version fanfic, but not this one. :)
**Characters are all their usual ages that they are in the cartoon, so about nine or ten.
***I do NOT own Alvin and the Chipmunks. I only own the plot line.
Saturday night in Los Angeles and once again, there they were on another stage. Dave had suggested a few days back that they'd been gathering an audience from the Northeast, and since they had a gradually inclining popularity, they should get used to performing more often than in two-week intervals to appease the fanbase. Also, by popular demand they would now be performing with the Chipettes as an added bonus; in fact, the girls have practically been living with them. Of course, they were used to rooming with the chipmunks, so this wouldn't be the first time it's happened.
That night, each Chipmunk danced with their counterpart as they all sang the lyrics to Journey's hit song, Don't Stop Believin' and they all seemed to be enjoying the performance, except for one chipette whose toes were being constantly stepped on.
"Ow! OW! Alvin!" Whispered Brittany harshly, "You're stepping on my toes again! Quit it!"
"Sorry, Brittany." Responded Alvin quietly and apologetically, "I'm trying not to!"
"Well you're not doing a good job! OW!"
Alvin and Brittany danced to the rhythm of the music just as they had rehearsed for weeks prior to the concerts. However, Brittany wasn't enjoying herself quite as much as she usually does. Alvin's feet were continuously stepping on hers, which had never happened before! Alvin, the one out of the Chipmunk trio that had the swiftest feet, was gradually crushing her metatarsal bones one by one.
"I'm serious, Alvin! Quit it!" She scolded quietly, "I mean it!"
"I'm not trying to!" He quietly responded, "It's these new shoes...!"
A few days earlier:
As expected, Alvin was happy to oblige once he got the news about their growing fame. And for days after that, Alvin was focused on one thing and one thing only: his image. Although he was never one to fully enjoy clothing shopping, he spent the next few days shopping for his new look. In fact, he did so much shopping, it was almost as if he'd turned into the male version of Brittany!
"No... no... nada...nope..." groaned Alvin as he tried on different pairs of shoes, rejecting every pair he'd try on and tossing them all back into their boxes. It had already been an hour and Alvin was still in the same section of the department store. He was having no luck with finding the right shoes. It was the last stop the Sevilles would make before leaving the mall after a day's worth of shopping for the Saturday concert and the most important stop in Alvin's eyes.
Earlier in the week, Alvin had noticed a few small holes torn into the tips of his shoes. The shoes he'd been wearing for so long were becoming old and outdated. This simply wouldn't do. Alvin was a rockstar! Rockstars can't be old and outdated! Rockstars don't wear old shoes! If he'd spent the day buying new clothes, he couldn't wear them with old shoes! He needed shoes that would call attention; shoes that would make him look cooler and more in style than anybody his age. The type of shoes that would make him appear taller and more desirable to the ladies. Ones that would scream ALVIN SEVILLE! What he needed was a pair of 'wow' shoes! True rockstar shoes!
"Alvin... It's 7:30! We've been here for such a long time!" Whined Theodore, "We missed dinner...a-and I'm so hungry!"
"He's right, Alvin." Agreed Simon wearily, "Can't you just come back some other time to find shoes or something? We've walked around the entire mall today and we're exhausted! Look! Dave's asleep!" He directed Alvin's attention to the other side of the room where Dave sat, folded and slumped lazily in a leather fitting chair, gently snoring and twitching a bit. As if work and being a father of three didn't take up enough of Dave's energy. Poor Dave had been hauling their shopping bags around the Los Angeles mall since noon.
"Just one more! Promise!" begged Alvin, who rifled through another shoebox and was trying on yet another pair.
Groans filled the room. Simon stood up, his fists clenched tightly to his sides, "You said that an hour ago!"
"I'm SO close to finding the right ones, Simon!" Pleaded Alvin, kicking off his latest pair of unsatisfactory shoes, "I must find them! Do you know how many people from New York City will probably be attending our concert on Saturday?! Talent agencies, photographers, famous actors and actresses?! This is important business!"
Simon rolled his eyes in response. "I would expect this kind of thing from Brittany, but never you, Alvin."
Another twenty minutes had passed and the pile of rejected shoes and shoe boxes was beginning to accumulate and take up most of the floor!
Dave snored loudly, having been asleep for close to an hour already. Simon's patience wore dangerously thin and he'd finally had it. "That's is IT! We're going home now! Forget your stupid shoes! The mall's going to close soon!" He scolded, taking Alvin by the arm, "We're going home!"
"Wait! Wait! I was just about to find them! Simon! Simon let g-" And that when Alvin saw them. The perfect pair of shoes. His eyes widened to plate size proportions; there they were on a tall platform across the room, practically begging for him to wear them. They were gear high-tops, yellow and black and waiting for his feet, and his feet only, to walk in them. In that moment he stood gazing at this must-have pair of miracle footwear, he imagined himself walking in them in the streets. He could just see himself attracting attention from every bright-eyed female as far as he could see, causing them to flock to him immediately, screaming out his name dreamily and fanatically. Alvin! Oh Alvin! They cooed, surrounding him and caressing his cheeks. In his daydreams, of course he was the most irresistible thing to women since the invention of chocolate; with his unmatched, superior physique and one-of-a-kind style, he was the very definition of heartthrob. At least in HIS mind, he was...
With his new daydreams still fresh in his mind, he immediately pulled himself out of Simon's grasp and raced up to the shelf, ravenously tugging the shoes down and sped to the register, "I'll take these in a size six please." He then sat and waited patiently for the shoe department employee to return to him for the hundredth time with his magical new shoes, daydreaming about how tough he was going to look walking around in them. Nobody would want to mess with bad-boy Alvin Seville with these shoes on, no sir!
When she came back, she didn't have a shoebox in her hands, much to his dismay, "Sorry, but we only have those shoes in size five or nine...We've almost completely run out of stock for those."
Alvin's heart sank. He'd finally found the right shoes for his new look and now they didn't even have his size! "If you'd like, we could order them for you in the mail... Unfortunately, they'll arrive in about two weeks because there are so many people who-"
"TWO WEEKS?!" Exclaimed Alvin, "But I need them for Saturday! What am I supposed to-" Just then, he got an idea, "Did you say that you have these shoes in a size five?"
"Yes"
"Then I'll take 'em! Size five, please!"
"Are you sure, sir? That's a size lower-"
Alvin charmingly took the lady's hand and stroked it, "My dear lady. Alvin Seville is always sure when it comes to such important matters~"
Upon finally leaving the mall, he'd bought the magical pair of bad-boy shoes and was now wearing them out of the store. They may have been a size lower than what he was comfortable with, but he was convinced he'd get used to the pain.
Yes, they may have made each of his feet weigh an extra few pounds, made him walk strangely, made him look much too tall and lanky, and were fantastically uncomfortable and awkward, but they sure looked awesome on him. Well, in HIS opinion they did, anyway...
From the day he'd bought them, Alvin didn't take them off for the days following (except for the occasional shower, of course). He'd even wear them to sleep! Friday:
"Alvin," Dave sighed, "Maybe you should take it easy with those shoes. They don't look comfortable at all... Perhaps you should find some other ones-"
"No, Dave! These shoes are totally comfortable! Promise!" Alvin quickly reassured as he walked in circles with them.
"Alright, Alvin... But if you can't get used to those shoes by tomorrow night, I can't let you dance at the concert tomorrow. You know that." Dave got up off the couch and headed to the kitchen to help Theodore and Eleanor prepare dinner.
Alvin was in awe; these new shoes were da bomb-diggity. He stopped walking and looked down at the shoes, smiling at his reflection in the metal toe boxes.
"Getting used to these will be a walk in the park!" said Alvin confidently.
He strode forward, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about how much closer he was to reaching it with these stilt-like shoes on. He was going to make this work, even if he had to walk around in them all day! As he rocked back and forth on his heels, he imagined himself sauntering confidently down a well-groomed red carpet into the grand entrance of the Kodak Theater in Hollywood, constantly being stopped by several photographers and record company producers, begging to sign him as a new rockstar and asking him where he got those incredible new shoes.
"Alvin! Alvin, if you'd just give me a moment of your time!"
"Alvin! How would you like to be a star?"
"Mr. Seville! We want to put you on the front cover of the Rolling Stones Magazine!"
"Alvin! What do you have to say about those hip new shoes?"
Before he was consciously aware of it, he accidentally ran into a table, stubbing his toe. He let out a whimper. "Ow! Ow ow ow!" Almost instantly, the sting shot its way up his ankle, inducing the formation of tears in the corners of his eyes. Simon stood in the doorway, smirking, taking slight enjoyment from his brother's clumsiness.
"By the looks of it, I don't believe those 'awesome new shoes' of yours are quite as comfortable as you make them out to be," he remarked as he walked into the room, "in fact, they look agonizingly tight on you... why is that?" He began untying Alvin's right shoe.
Alvin winced. "Hey hey hey! Don't do that! They're not painful-"
"Whoa," interjected a wide-eyed Simon as he pulled Alvin's right shoe and sock off, revealing a series of swollen blisters forming around the sides of his feet, "Well this looks...rather nightmarish... exactly how far are you planning to go just to make people admire your new 'image?'"
Alvin shook his head slowly in response and sighed dramatically, "You have no idea..."
Just then, Theodore entered the room with Eleanor. The two of them had been in the kitchen preparing chicken pot pies for dinner, which is one of Theodore and Eleanor's favorite dishes to prepare together. They'd made a habit of cooking together since they've spent most of their free time practicing the dance routines for the upcoming concerts. "Hey!" chirped Eleanor, "What're you guys up to?"
"Well, Alvin's 'awesome new shoes' are turning out to be a negative investment." Said Simon blankly, "look what they're doing to his feet!" Simon held Alvin's foot up to show the two, and they reacted similarly to Simon's reaction.
"Ooh Ouch!" responded Eleanor, cringing.
"Alvin! You shouldn't wear those if they hurt! Just look what they're doing to your feet!" added a worried Theodore, "If Dave sees your feet, he won't want you to dance at our concert tomorrow night!"
"Especially not in THOSE shoes!" replied Simon.
Alvin grabbed his sock and shoe back from Simon and hastily put them back on, feeling slightly embarrassed, "Oh come on, you guys! I just haven't broken them in yet, that's all! Don't ALL new shoes hurt your feet until you get used to them?"
"Well yes, but never like that! It's like they're the wrong size!" exclaimed Simon, "Can't you just go back and trade them in for a different size? Perhaps your feet have grown out of a size six. Did you even bother trying them on?"
"They didn't have my size..." mumbled Alvin, "so I got the size lower..."
Everyone in the room groaned. Predictable Alvin, they all thought.
"You're wearing a size five? Alvin!" Simon pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "We have to return those now."
"No way! I'm keeping them and that's final!" Argued Alvin stubbornly, crossing his legs on the couch, "You're just jealous because they look great on me!"
"Yeah," replied Simon sarcastically, "I'm totally jealous."
Back on stage, Saturday Night:
At first, Brittany understood why Alvin was so hyped up about a simple pair of shoes. If there ever was a person who understood the importance of image and style, it was her. So naturally, she didn't argue when Alvin began showing up to practice dancing with the new shoes he'd idolized. He was trying to create a fresh new image, and that was fine. However, the problem came when Alvin began to dance with her. He was terrible! He missed dance cues and looked clumsy and out of rhythm...but worst of all, he'd made a habit of stepping on her feet!
To deal with the problem, Brittany began to wrap her feet up with gauze where it began to bruise and made sure to wear boots more often to avoid the obvious clues that her feet were black and blue. She yelled and lectured at Alvin to cut the carelessness and at one point even begged him to take off those terrible shoes, but of course, he refused. The debut of his new shoes was important! His impression on his audience needed to be golden.
"Eek! ALVIN!" screeched Brittany, her toes throbbing from being crushed under Alvin's two left feet, "Is it just me, or have your dancing skills gotten even worse since yesterday?"
Alvin quickly hushed her, "Shh! They have not!"
"It's because of those stupid shoes of yours!" She retaliated, "Take them off!"
"No way! You leave the shoes out of this!"
"Doesn't it bother you to know that your dancing looks ridiculous when you wear those things?"
Alvin scoffed, "Well at least it's good to know that I'm not as bad as you!"
Brittany's voice grew harsher, "You know better than I do that I'm the better dancer here!"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, really! You dance worse than a donkey with one leg!"
"Well you dance like a girl! Oh wait! You are a girl! Guess that explains it."
The two were at it again; beginning another one of their usual petty fights.
"Don't kid yourself, Seville! I always have been and always will be better than you!"
"At what?"
"At everything!"
"Yeah, right! There's no way you can beat me at even one competition."
"You wanna bet?"
"As a matter of fact, I do!"
"Fine! Then we'll settle this-" challenged Brittany before once again being stepped on by Alvin's unruly shoes. She hissed through her teeth, "If you step on my toes one more time, I swear I'll-"
Crunch.
Brittany bit her lip in response to the crippling pain that overwhelmed her. That was the last straw. She was done with being stepped on.
"That's it! THAT'S IT! Stop the music!"
The pink-clad chipette stopped dead in the center of the stage, halting the music and instantly silencing the audience. She was fuming, "Alvin. Seville." She pointed directly at him, "This means war."
Nobody moved. The concert hall went silent.
"I'm challenging you to a bet!"