Author's Note: This idea was given to me by a review of my other present tense fanfic, "Foolish Thoughts", Klutzy Girl. So, blame her if it's not good. Just kidding.

If you wish to review my story and not comment upon my preferences, please do so. If you are doing by means of revenge or to rant against me, don't waste your time. At this point, you will be at the receiving end of a scathing review delivered in most loathsome tones. Please do not assume because of my style of choice in this story that my intellect is sub par due to the story's simplicity. Were I to write in more complex terms, this story would not nearly be as enjoyable.

Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Fairly Oddparents!

Guess what? I never will!

Chapter One: A Day in the Life

It's ten o'clock on a Tuesday morning. The children are utterly silent, not because they are paying complete attention to the teacher, of course not. Like the children, even nature ceases. A gigantic pit bull stares down Timmy Turner's fifth grade class.

Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact, Timmy Turner thinks fearfully, this silly pink hatted child shaking with fear.

As if it were possible, this pit-bull, a grey dog with a black chain around his neck has been trained to hunt fairies. It does nothing of the sort, but Crocker could remain deluded for a few more minutes. Walnut (its name), was abandoned because he was overly affectionate. In fact, his owner went down as the first person to be licked to death (56 straight hours of licking). Walnut knows nothing of fairies, but he would like to slobber that kid with the smiley face backpack.

"Go!" Crocker yells, laughing maniacally. "Hunt those fairy godparents!" He smacks his head against the chalkboard.

Walnut does "go", and proceeds to lick Timmy with extreme prejudice. Timmy, however, is saved by both luck and the lunch bell. Walnut is stupid but has a wicked sense of smell, and darts toward that wonderful smell of dog kibble, today's lunch. Thus, the day, or rather, Timmy Turner is saved, thanks to food that will ensure 100 absenteeism.

With the disappearance of the students, Crocker's eye on Turner, there is a much less welcome surprise. Principal Waxelplax stands in the doorway, impeding Crocker's progress. Her eyes are narrowed and she emanates anger as she crosses the room to throw one hundred papers on his desk. Needless to say, she is not pleased.

"These are complaints from every single parent/guardian (except Timmy's, who never believe him, anyway) on your "teaching". I should have never signed you out of that asylum; you're as insane as you've ever been. What am I waiting for, a pit bull?"

Her eyes stray to the dog, sitting with its tail wagging in the middle of the aisle. Its black eyes gaze into hers, and she jumps.

"What ever possesses me to keep you? I don't even know why I hired you in the first place. You frighten all the children and most of your classes revolve around fairy hunting! You're incompetent, you're-"she breaks off when she realizes that Crocker has fled the room.

Why did I hire him? Could it be pity? I used to love him, she thinks as she leaves the room.

Do I still?

He hates cafeteria duty. The mindless chatter of children, none of whom are miserable enough to have fairies, drive him mad (madder than he is, anyway). Their talk is insipid, discussing things which have no real significance, and he wants to just stalk Turner. But he can't- he must have a reason to trail Turner, and Waxelplax is also walking around, her eye on him.

So, he sits, amid annoying, insensitive jokes on his insanity, and glares at the wall. If a fight breaks out, then he has something to do, otherwise, he must suffer. The other teachers are now making hand gestures in his direction, followed by laughter. He hates it, he hates this school.

There is no other way to watch children, legally, unless you teach at an elementary school. Where there are children, there are fairy godparents, and where there are fairy godparents, Crocker will go.

So what if he's doing questionable activities? So what if there are complaints? He's not concerned. All he wants is to have ten minutes alone with Timmy's parents, the ones with the pink and green hair, and then, they'll see. They'll pay.

When he's the absolute ruler of the world...

"Crocker!" Geraldine screeches; jerking him out of his daydream, which involved a substantial amount of shrimp puffs.

"Where were you when Francis threw Turner into the wall and the bullies started a kid fight? Don't tell me you were thinking of fairies again!"

"Uh, no I wasn't?" Crocker makes a forced smile and tries not to look into her eyes. He knows she didn't like the pit bull and the way he's run his classes, and this could be the final straw. Unfortunately, he also knows that he needs this money to fund the technology to hunt fairies, and so can't lose this low paying, no respect job. So, when in doubt, deny, deny, deny.

"I don't care what you do," a third grader flies past their heads, fearfully screaming, "in your own house, but here-", a kindergartener is chucked across the room, "you have to do your job!" Although, now, I'm not sure I know what that is anymore.

"Enough!" Crocker announces, and stands atop a lunch table. "An 'A' for the first person who stops throwing children!" He grins expectantly.

This backfires in a huge way. Instead of stopping, a whole ton of kids knock him off the table, piling on top of him. He lies, battered and bruised, on the floor (but no more so than the kids used as missiles).

"My office! Now!" Geraldine growls, picking kids off of him. "We need to talk!"

This, as you may know, is never good.