I don't own any of this, as you may have guessed from the fact that this is going in 'fanfiction'. I was listening to "Tomorrow Comes Today" by Gorillaz when I thought of this, a hardly relevant idea! Talk about weird.... This takes place after the last issue of JHTM.





Tomorrow Comes Today



"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE LEAVING?!?!", Reverend Meat screamed at Johnny in protest. He knew that something had been slightly different about Johnny lately, but he didn't think it would be so serious as to result in this.

"I mean I'm leaving. What don't you get about that?", Johnny said, obviously frustrated with the little statue. But showing any emotion was the complete opposite of what he wanted to do, of why he wanted to leave.

"So I'm just supposed to rot with these stinking corpses for all eternity?!"

"Calm down. I don't know exactly when I'll be back, if I ever do come back. So just to be on the safe side I would say yes." He almost smiled as Meat went into a hysterical fit that made him look like he was about to burst with frustration that he would no longer be able to ensure, or even work to make his voice heard by Johnny.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with you wanting to be an insect, would it?", Meat said through gritted teeth.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Meat sighed before going on another one of his infamous lectures. "What will it take to convince you that you are a human being and not some little cockroach that has no need for emotion?! You have been trying ever since I came here and maybe even before that! You still haven't been able to do anything and you never will!!!" But all that did was set Johnny off. He picked up a knife on a nearby table and raised it over Meat's head, ready to bring it down and finish off this voice who was nothing but a hindrance to him and his goals. "Go ahead. Do it.", Meat said with a triumphant smile. "I will just be eventually replaced by some other inanimate object that you will choose to represent your inner voice. And its words will mirror mine."

Johnny lowered the knife in a frustrating, but ultimately unavoidable defeat as something yelled in the basement. Its muffled threats fell on uncaring ears. "YOU! FREAK!! GET DOWN HERE AND LET ME OUT!!! Aww, shit. I said that out loud, didn't I?" This had been going on for the past few hours and was really starting to get on Johnny's nerves. As he made his long journey down the stairs, the prisoner made several insincere attempts at apologizing. But this made no difference. It was why he was there in the first place.

"You do know that stunts like that are the reason I brought you here, right?", Johnny said as he stepped out of the shadows and faced his complaining houseguest. Being held up by chains on the wall, there was a teenage boy who looked about fifteen. He was relatively tall for his age with short blonde hair, cold, hate-filled blue eyes, a face almost completely covered in huge, erupting zits and a puberty warped voice that would randomly get high and squeaky. He was wearing a football varsity jacket of Hellhole High, in front of which he had sealed his fate with his degrading comments. He was sitting outside the football stadium, smoking something with his teammates. That's when they spotted Johnny. He was just out for an early evening walk, minding his own business when he came to the high school. Then the insults started flying.

"Hey guys. Check out the stick figure goth wannabe." One with a jacket that said "Stan" on the front couldn't resist commenting on Johnny. Him and his friends laughed as Johnny stopped in his tracks and turned around to see who was begging to be impaled by a knife this time.

"What's with those boots?", another one of the idiots said. Unfortunately for him, those were his last words. Johnny took out a knife from his jacket and went to work. The pain filled screams from the football players were drowned out by the crowd watching the cheerleaders' half-time performance. But it was getting late and he had to say goodbye to Squee before he left. So he tied Stan, the last remaining victim up with one of his friend's intestines and threw him in the trunk. He drove to house 777 and took off the intestines but replaced them with chains that bound Stan to the wall. He went upstairs to have a little conversation with Meat and then was summoned to the basement by the shouts of his victim.

"Well we never would have said those things if you weren't so... Different!", Stan whined in his own nonsensical logic, trying to convince Johnny that it was all his fault and that he should let him go. But it looked like it was just not going to happen, though that took a while to sink into Stan's thick head.

"Differences? So that's what this is about?" Johnny was very confused at this explanation. The basic "you're weird" excuse was a common one from those who were about to meet their bloody end at his hands. But this was just twisted to the point it disturbed a homicidal maniac!

"NO! You think?!" Crimson blood was now seeping from cuts on Stan's wrists caused by the chains. But there were also scars further up his arms. And Johnny couldn't remember giving him those.

"I would hardly think you would be fit to criticize others on their differences. I don't think any of your friends had those."

"Shut up! It's all because of freaks like you that I have them!" Johnny caught a glimpse of the clock. It was 9:00 p.m. and he still had to say goodbye to Squee.

"There are some very one-sided thoughts going on in that air filled head of yours. I must go now. But until either I return, you will die. You have until either then or whenever your body gives up on its own to sort those thoughts out."

Stan started screaming again as Johnny ascended the long flight of stairs to go visit Squee, and say goodbye to him for what might be the last time. "I'LL GET YOU FREAK!!!! I'LL GET YOU WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE!! AND I KNOW I'LL GET OUT BECAUSE I'M A TOUGH FOOTBALL PLAYER AND YOU'RE JUST A LITTLE FAG!!!" Johnny shouted down one last remark to Stan before going out the front door.

"You call me a fag, yet you play a sport based on men in tights throwing a ball and jumping all over each other to get it. Somehow I don't follow your thoughts." Johnny then slammed the door on what was possibly the single most ignorant jerk on the face of the planet. He was, but that will be explained another time.

One hour later Johnny was in his car, driving to some unknown destination. He had just left Squee's house a few minutes ago. He had hit Squee's dad with a toy of some sort when he came in the room. "If only Squee had more caring parents.", Johnny thought to himself. "He deserves so much better than them."

Meanwhile at a house on the road where Johnny was driving, Stan's girlfriend had heard of the disappearance of her boyfriend and the violent deaths of his friends. Now she had no one to cheer for, so there was no more cheerleading squad. AND her boyfriend was gone so she had no more arm- candy to make her popular. Her superficially based life was disintegrating before her eyes. But she wasn't that bright. Instead of trying to find Stan, she got drunk as hell at a party and found a new boyfriend who forged papers to get her into his school. It still had a football team and cheerleading squad and she had a popular boyfriend again. She couldn't do a cartwheel, but guys thought she looked hot in short skirts so she was as good as on the cheerleading squad. She got into her car to go home at 10:00 pm to practice her "dumb blonde" look in the mirror. Of course no one really cared so no one stopped her. Some boyfriend! (Can you sense the sarcasm over the internet?! You can, can't you?! CAN'T YOU?!?! Ahh, never mind.) She was driving the opposite way of Johnny, but on the wrong side of the road. Johnny was too immersed in his own thoughts to see the headlights coming directly at him. By the time he did, it was too late to do anything about it. The sounds of twisted metal and screaming drivers filled the cool night air right before Johnny's world faded into darkness.













THIS IS NOT THE END!!!! Stan is based on a real person, in case anyone was wondering. Like Tim's real life counterpart, he has been a big contributor to my growing insanity. And those are not their real names, but they have the same amount of letters. I know the title choice for this story doesn't make much sense right now, but it will in later chapters. Please review. Or flame, I want to know if I should continue this story. (Good reviews are an incentive, but flames will make me want to continue, therefore pissing you off!)