Revenge of The Slitheen Prequel: Carl

The school bell rang, sharp, piercing. Carl had just finished his lunch, when a bunch of bullies came up to him. Carl was fat. No two ways about it - not "big boned" or "chubby". Fat. So of course the horrible, rude people in the school would pick on him.

"It's just not fair" he thought, brushing his hand through his straight, brown hair. "Nobody likes me... Nobody... It's just... Not fa-!" He was stopped by the headmaster, Mr. Blakeman, before he could finish his thought.

"Hello boy." He boomed at Carl, imposing over him, with a hulking frame similar to Carl's own. "I need you to come help me real quick. My son is... having some issues, you see. I think you could really help him out!"

Carl jumped at the chance to help. He could finally... finally prove he could be useful. Maybe he'd make a new friend along the way! He had no chance to really think about the situation before gleefully agreeing to follow Mr. Blakeman to his office.

"So, how is school, uh... Carl, I believe your sodding name was?" Blakeman grunted, before letting out an audible, ghastly fart - "PFFFRAAARRRRZZEE" - choosing to ignore it rather than acknowledge it.

"U-uh, it's... okay. Besides... the bullying, Sir." spoke Carl, timidly, nervously laughing.

"Bullying, eh? I'm sure you won't have to worry about that for much longer..." Blakeman says, verging on smirking. Carl, however, doesn't notice and continues walking to Blakeman's office, Blakeman waddling and occasionally farting as he went.

Blakeman invited in Carl first, before entering himself, slying locking the door and making sure the blinds were shut. A look of confusion landed upon Carl's face, as he questioned what exactly he was supposed to be helping with. Blakeman just scoffed.

"You're going to be one of the most important things ever to my family. You're going to help us out tremendously, of that I assure you!" He almost gloated, before farting once more. This time, he commented on it: "Oof, this really does chafe, I see what Jeffery means now... Blimey... But damn letting that out felt good. I mean, if he hadn't dragged his stupid kid along..." he finished, mumbling.

Carl was visibly, blatantly confused. "Uh... Sir, is something wrong, is that what I'm supposed to help with? Surely not... A-are your clothes, like, chafing or something?"

"You could say that. Now... Don't be too alarmed, will you? You might alert a teacher like, say, Jeffery that something's happening!" Blakeman scoffed.

"Wait, wh-" Carl couldn't finish that sentence before Blakeman farted, for the longest and loudest this time, holding down on his desk in order to keep his balance. He was now reaching to his forehead, visibly grinning. Suddenly, a blue light filled the room as Blakeman closed his eyes, and started to... unzip his forehead?! Carl couldn't believe his eyes, but as Blakeman... no, this THING started pulling what must've been Blakeman's head down, slowly down, it's big green head squeezing out, he had to believe it. Soon, it's big, green arms, equipped with big, thick claws came out of the skin, and "Blakeman's" skin fell to the ground with a light thud, collecting in a nice neat pile, the crumpled face of Blakeman on top.

Carl couldn't scream. Couldn't move. Couldn't think.

"You'll do nicely. I'm sure Kist Magg Thek's son will really appreciate the help you're doing Carl." was the last words Carl heard before he saw a giant claw aimed right for his forehead swing harshly and fiercely at him...