I have a whole crap load of explaining to do, but I would like to wish myself a happy 1 year anniversary on FF, as of July 14.
Here is just a short little one shot I wrote to help clear my writer's block.
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.
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Have I got a story for you...
His eyes were focused on the screen in front of him. He was scanning the city, looking for his next target. He had been awake for countless hours, and sleep threatened to overtake his eyes...er...eye. He brought his hand up to his chin in thought, rubbing an imaginary beard. Finally, coming to the conclusion that if he were to come up with another extremely evil plan, he decided he would have to do it on a day that he wasn't sleep deprived. As a result of that, he had to halt his evil plotting for the day.
Turning away from the screen, he winced. The downside to staring at a computer for so long was that you lost your vision for a few seconds. Gaining it again, he began to wonder just how long he was staring at the map of Jump City. Dare he look at the clock to find out?
Slowly, he turned his head and sighed. Seven hours was not healthy. "And I thought Robin overworked himself," he mumbled to himself. It was about right then that he noticed his stomach was growling so loud that it could probably scare off lions.
"Scare off lions?" he said aloud. Suddenly, a light bulb turned on above his head, "Yes! My new evil plan will include lions! My stomach shall command thousands of lions to tear this city apart! The Titans will never suspect a thing!" The light bulb then promptly burned out. "Oh, wait, my stomach can't command lions, it only scares them off. They'd actually run in fear in the opposite direction of Jump." He sighed defeatedly, before sitting up straight. "Did my last plan just include my stomach commanding lions? Ooh...I need some sleep...and maybe a sandwich."
And so, our villain went in search of his butler, Wintergreen. Finally, he spotted him, asleep in his bed.
"Wintergreen! Wake up! Quick!" Wintergreen, now used to springing out of bed when they were in danger, or when the Titans were near, flew four feet up in the air and out of his bed.
"What is it, Master Slade?" he asked hurriedly.
"Listen carefully," Slade commanded, "I need you...to make me a sandwich. No bologna, though. That's gross. Hmmm...how about ham? With cheese? And toast it! Oh, and use that cookie cutter shaped like a pumpkin to cut it!" Wintergreen raised an eyebrow.
"You woke me up at one in the morning to make you a pumpkin shaped sandwich?" he asked.
"What? You know I don't like the crust, and we left all of our other cookie cutters at the last evil lair," Slade told him. Now Wintergreen was suspicious. Slade NEVER acted like this. Ever. It probably wasn't even him. It was probably another one of those robots Slade made all the time that had faulty wiring. And Wintergreen was tired of confusing them with the real Slade, and giving them the strange things they asked for. So, that would explain his next response.
"You can go get it yourself. I'm tired," He told the supposed robot. He climbed back in bed, and immediately fell asleep, a trick he had taught himself long ago.
Slade frowned. Surely this couldn't be Wintergreen. Wintergreen never defied him. Oh, he would show him. He would make that sandwich without his help. After all, he was a world class assassin. How hard could it possibly be?
A refrigerator filled with food, three bags of powdered sugar, a blender, a microwave, a cup of coffee, a goat, a CD player, fourteen raspberries, eight cans of soda, a raccoon, a gift card, some paper, a do-it-yourself book, a French fry, and a squirrel later, his sandwich was done. And it, to say the least, was just about as appealing as the kitchen was. Now, the only way to come close to perfectly describing the state of the kitchen is to say that Zeus and the other Greek Gods had had a fearsome battle here, with much damage, followed by the American civil war, a tornado, and a guy with a lawnmower.
Either that, or take all of the above ingredients of Slade's sandwich and put them in a blender, without putting the lid on top. Because, unfortunately for Wintergreen, (Who would later have to clean all this up) that was exactly what happened in the space of seventeen minutes that night.
Slade, completely oblivious to the horrid state of his sandwich, took a bite. He then promptly spit it out on the counter. At the time, that was okay; you couldn't really see it, because the entire kitchen looked like the blender threw up on it. And, as a matter of fact, it did.
Sighing dejectedly, Slade went to bed.
THE NEXT DAY
The sun was shining, the children were laughing, and the singing birds were driving Slade insane. He woke up, still rather tired and a little cranky from lack of food, and his stomach was growling enough to scare away all of Jump City. Fortunately he was too out of it to think of that plan. He rolled out of bed and made his way to Wintergreen's room, where he opened the door and jumped in fright.
"Ahhh! Wintergreen!" he cried out, "You look so...so...pale, and skinny, and old." He informed his butler. Wintergreen sighed.
"I always look like that," He said in an annoyed monotone voice. "But if you mean I look sick, then yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I'm sorry Master Slade, but you'll have to take care of yourself for the day while I get better." He coughed.
"Are you sure you're sick?" He asked. Wintergreen pointed to his hideous face. "Oh, right. Well, what do I have to do then?" Wintergreen pointed to a much more pleasant site: the desk. On the desk, was a notepad.
"That is a list of errands that I have to run today. Or, that you have to run today. There are only four things to do; you'll be fine."
"Alright, this can't be too hard, but what am I supposed to eat for breakfast?" he asked him, 'I sorta used all of the food for my sandwich. Of course this raised many questions with Wintergreen, but he decided that he would rather not know the answers.
"What about cereal? I just bought some a few days ago. Surely you didn't put that into your sandwich."
"Uh..."
"Hmm! Coco Puffs! My favorite...and look, a cool cutout thing on the back that I can mail in and get something I really don't need! All I need to do is cut out the back of all five cereal boxes. But what am I going to do with all of this cereal? Oh, I know, I dump it on the street so that cars will run over them and it will cause major accidents, keeping the Titans busy while I plot world domination!"
Needless to say, cars can crush coco puffs before they do any damage to anyone.
"...I ate all it." Once again, several questions were raised, but none wanted to be answered.
'Then just go to a café or something, I need my rest."
And thus, our villain's crazy adventure begins.
TRANSITION
"Uh, yeah, I'd like a number one, with meat fries and a large meat juice," Slade ordered. Of course, he couldn't walk around in his death-uniform, so he was just regular Slade Wilson, the guy with eye patch.
Beast Boy shuddered. Why was this the one place here he could find work? Well, he had tried all those other places, and needless to say they didn't work out very well. Especially that vacuum salesmen job.
"Uh, yes sir!" He replied, then walked over to the wall.
"Uh, Bob? Yeah, you mind filling that order? Bob? Bob?" He asked. He started pounding on the wall, "Bob! There are customers! Where are you?"
Maybe the Titans weren't as smart as he had previously believed. No wonder they could never beat him. Then again, this was Beast Boy.
"Why are you talking to the wall?" he asked. Beast Boy turned to look at him.
"Uh, Bob, my manager, sends the food out of that tiny whole in the wall. It's pretty strange, and I can't help but notice that all of the meals look exactly the same. I've never tried anything though; they all look terrible. Heh, I'm a vegetarian," Beast Boy shrugged.
"If you're a vegetarian, then why do you work at Mega Meaty Meat?" Slade asked him. Beast Boy pointed to the Moped on display.
"That baby right over there," he said. Slade raised his only visible eyebrow and noticed that his food had indeed come out of the hole in the wall. Slightly suspicious. "Here you go, sir," Beast Boy handed him. Slade gave him the money. "You know," Beast Boy started, "You look familiar. Do I know you?"
Slade winced. "Uh, I think I've seen you once before. You saved my...uh...daughter," He lied. Beast Boy smiled.
"It's what I do," he informed him. Well, this was awkward. It was just him, his enemy, and a giant meat thing with googly eyes looming over him while he ate. Slade took a bite.
"Hmmm...it tastes a little like tofu, but not. Like...space tofu," he suggested. Beast Boy gave him a quizzical look.
"Tofu? Here? Yeah right," he noticed more customers, and began to speak to them. Slade finished him meal and left, but not before noticing that every meal that came out DID look the same.
Now, it was onto the grocery store.
ANOTHER TRANSITION
"Alright, let's check this grocery list. Pineapple, Coco Puffs, another do-it-yourself guidebook, a cookbook, some ham, a loaf of bread, chicken fingers, frozen fish sticks, some Doritos, a 24 pack of Mountain Dew, some grape jelly, a stick of butter, and some spinach.
He had never been to this grocery store, or actually any grocery store in years, (Wintergreen always went for him) so you can imagine how very difficult it was to find everything. Of course, the first thing he did was try to find the frozen fish sticks next to the canned peas. However, after a good hour and a half of searching, he finally found everything he needed, and he even got a box of Twinkies. He walked over to the cash register, and began unloading his things onto the belt. There was one guy in front of them, who had bought at least forty items, and the cashier looked mentally ill.
The cashier, whose name was Steven, was slowly scanning each item, one by one. It took at least thirty seconds per item. Drool was actually falling from his mouth onto the scanning area. Slade looked around, but saw no open registers but this one. He heard someone step up behind him. It was a girl with a frown on her face, as well as hatred in her eyes. She had dark purple hair and pale skin, which was lit up by those seemingly demonic violet eyes.
"Uh, hi," Slade offered. Talking to Raven was not the easiest thing to do, especially when not only does she ignore you, but she doesn't even know that you are her enemy as well.
"Hello," she replied back, in the same annoyed tone as Wintergreen had that very morning.
"Nice weather we're having, huh?" He asked. She nodded.
"Yeah. Sunny," She replied.
"Hey, aren't you that Teen Titan, uh, Raven?" he tried to sound like he had no idea who she was.
"Yep," She replied, not even looking at him.
"Aren't you that green kid's girlfriend or something?" The chair next to Steven blew up.
"No."
"You couldn't have made the cashier blow up instead?" He asked.
She turned to look at him, "If only." She replied.
"Oh."
There was a long silence. Finally, Steven finished scanning the items. Great, now the guy in front of them was paying with coins. Both Raven and Slade had to keep themselves from killing someone.
"So...nice eye patch," Raven offered.
"Thanks...nice, uh, cloak thing,"
"Thanks."
Thankfully, the guy paid, and the manager sent someone new over to the cash register. Slade was out in a matter or seconds.
"That was painful," Slade thought to himself. He loaded up hi car and looked at the list. "Alright, next, pick up dry cleaning."
YET ANOTHER TRANSITION
Slade walked into the dry cleaner's, only to realize that he had no idea what exactly he was picking up. "Hopefully the clerk will know what I'm picking up." Slade thought aloud. He walked up to the guy at the counter, who was listening to his iPod. He paid no attention to Slade. He was just here because his mother kicked him out of the basement.
"Uh...I have an order to pick up," Slade started, but then realized, somewhat late, that this guy was not going to be of any help. "Excuse me?" He asked him. That was it. The assassin side took over. "If you do not help me this instant, than I swear I will..."
And what else would the plot call for? Yes, that's right. Cyborg stepped in just in time to save the 34 year old's life. Slade had to wonder why Cyborg was picking up dry cleaning, seeing as he never wore clothes anyway, but he was too busy acting like homicidal thoughts weren't just dancing around in his mind.
Finally, the clueless idiot noticed that someone else was there, and, just like most 34 year old men who live in their mother's basement, he threw his iPod off to the side, jumped over the counter, and promptly asked Cyborg for his autograph. Slade had to wonder if this happened often...
"Uh...dude?" Cyborg started. The guy looked up at him.
"Yes?" He asked slowly, as if talking to Cyborg was the greatest thing in the entire world.
"I just need to pick up some clothes," he explained. The guy, whom Slade had now identified as a man named Eugene, jumped over the counter and hurried into the back of the store.
There was a long silence. Slade looked down at his watch, and Cyborg shifted uncomfortably in his spot.
"So..." Slade finally started, "You're Cyborg, huh?"
"Yep, that's me. And you are...?" Slade panicked.
"Uh...You can just call me Mr. Wilson," he finally said.
"Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Wilson. Nice eye patch,"
"Thanks, nice...uh...arms," Well, what else was he supposed to say?
"Thanks," Cyborg finished. Again there was a long silence.
"So, why are you here? I didn't think you wore clothes..."
"I don't. But, you know, Robin and his spandex dry-clean-only pants," He started. Slade as about to say something else, when the geek returned with, sure enough, Robin's pants.
"Here you go sir. I'd just like to say that I'm a really, really, REALLY big fan!" he pulled out some nasal spray and used it. Cyborg winced, and backed away.
"Uh...thanks. How much do I owe you?" he asked. The geeky dude looked shocked.
"Owe me? Are you kidding? No way! You're Cyborg! You don't owe me anything!" he practically screamed. By this point, he was standing on the counter hyper-ventilating.
"Well...then...I'll just be going. Uh...bye!" With that, Cyborg left.
"I got to meet Cyborg!" the geek squeaked. Hehehe...that rhymed! : )
"Can I just have my clothes now?" Slade asked. The guy looked over at him, frowning.
"Oh yeah, you're still here. Name please?"
"Uh…I'm picking clothes up for a friend. I'm not sure what name it is under," He explained.
"Then how am I supposed to know who it was? How do I know that you're not just stealing them? HUH?"
"It was a scary guy. He was old, pale, and sick looking. Oh! And he had a really small head," Slade explained.
"Oh, that guy? Yeah, I know who he is. Here are your clothes, sir. That will be 250," Sometimes it really did pay to be the hero.
OH COME ON, ANOTHER TRANSITION? ...APPARENTLY
"Alright, one last thing on the list here. It says...WHAT? Deliver Girl Scout cookies?!" he exclaimed, checking over his list three or four more times. He was going to fire Wintergreen.
So, he ventured to some lady's house, and picked up the Girl Scout cookies. As he began to deliver the 90 million cookie boxes, he passed a man who was selling ice cream. Yum.
"Uh, I'd like chocolate with sprinkles," he asked. The man, who looked like he was a body builder, eyed him.
"For your daughter, right?" He asked. He looked like the type that would kill a guy for buying that for himself.
"...yes," He couldn't so anything to him yet; there were too many witnesses. He received the ice cream and, after walking a few feet, began to eat it. He only got a couple more feet before the body builder ice cream man appeared in front of him.
"You. Lied. To. Me," He stated, popping his knuckles. Normally, Slade would jump up and defeat the guy in 30 seconds or less, but once more, witnesses.
"Well, uh...I mean...err..." he began. Just as the guy was about to murder him, he noticed the cookies in the wagon Slade was pulling.
"Are those Girl Scout cookies?" he asked, deathly serious.
"Uh...yes?" Slade replied, actually fearing this man, whom he would TOTALLY be able to kill had they not been in broad daylight.
"I'll take all of 'em!" He exclaimed. Suddenly the lightening striking behind him turned into happy suns and birds.
"What was that?" Slade asked, completely dumbfounded.
"I said that I'll take all of them," he repeated in a threatening tone.
"But, they've already been sold, so..."
"I'll. Take. Them. All." He repeated.
"Yes, of course, here you go!" The man gave him the money, and he pushed the wagon over to him.
"If I may ask, what are you doing with all of these cookies?" Slade questioned.
"I DON'T TELL YOU HOW TO RUN YOUR LIFE!" The man screamed, "But if you must know, I'm going to share them with my newly adopted daughter." He pointed to a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes.
"...Terra?" Slade said aloud. "Either that is Terra, or I need to lay off the Coco Puffs."
OMG, LAST TRANSITION!
"AHHHHHH!" Slade screamed, sitting up straight in bed. Wintergreen ran towards his room and burst through the door.
"What is it, sir?" He asked hurriedly.
"I just had this horrible nightmare about you, where you were sick and I had to run errands for a day, and space tofu, and meat, and the dry cleaners, and the spare change, and the ice cream man of DEATH!" he began to hyperventilate.
"Oh," was all Wintergreen could say, "Well, in that case, I'll be off. I've got a plane to catch!"
"What? Where are you going?" Slade asked quickly.
"Remember? We agreed that once every twenty years, I would get one week off. Well, that week is this week. See you Monday!" And with that, he was gone.
"...a week?"
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So sorry for the delay! I had major writer's block! Also, thanks to phi-phi for the help! I owe you BIG TIME!
Please review!
XxNightfirexX