Yes! I finally got the pilot chapter of my Freakazoid! story up. Wait, what's this? You mean Schiz is the only Freakazoid! story even up!? Well. I hope it catches on, then. ENJOY! Hopefully enough people know about the show to care. It's a shame to see stories go unread, even if they're just mine. :laughs:

Another One of Your Schiz

1. Bullet Train of Thought

Freakazoid woke up in Dexter's bed.

He didn't remember Freaking Out. He liked pizza- he had never done that before. He had always- sheep are really fluffy. They must get alot of static electricity. Does it shock the farmers when they shear them? I bet the shears would conduct the- went to bed as Dexter and woken up as Dexter. All the Super-hero stuff was left to him, Freakazoid, and the rest of the time it was Dexter Douglas, no questions asked.

Freakazoid frowned. "Freak In." His form spun and morphed around until it settled back into the familiar shape of Dexter Douglas, in his pajamas, still frowning.

All he could remember was that he had a very strange dream, and that it confused him. He didn't feel like himself- either one. That, and he couldn't sleep anymore.

"Dexter, where are you going, dear?" his Sunnydale Syndrome-suffering mother called to him as he crept down the stairs. She and Dexter's father's faces were illuminated by the flashing, irregular light of Jeepers Creepers on television.

He stopped. "I'm going out to sleep at a grown man's house for the night and possibly discuss most of the secrets I'm keeping from you and Dad with him."

"Okay then dear, be sure to bring clean underwear when you go," she replied calmly.

Dexter stared, shook his head, then kept on walking. His parents just didn't worry about him enough.

Upon closing the front door behind him, he pulled on his jacket and pulled out his cellphone. The screen lit up and he scrolled through his quick-call list. Steff... Cosgrove... Pizza Time... Roddy MacStew.

Roddy rubbed his eyes and picked up his ringing phone. "I already told you I don't want any," he yelled into it automatically, "You dastards had better stop calling me in the middle of the cruddy night!"

Just before he slammed it back onto the receiver, a tenative voice caught his ear. "Mr. MacStew?" His hand stopped in midair, then brought the phone back to his ear.

His tone softened. "Is that you, lad? It's just about midnight!"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but can I come over to your place for a while?"

"Is something the matter?"

"I don't know... just..." Dexter let out a frustrated sigh. Roddy gave him the directions to his house.

Dexter arrived a few minutes later, shivering slightly, and in a worse mood than he had been before. He shut the door a little too quickly, and it slamed.

"Calm down, laddy. You're floatin' the carpet."

Only Freakazoid could do that, but Dexter got the point. He closed his eyes, and took a few breaths.

Roddy raised an eyebrow in silent bemusement. Teenagers. Always running around, trying to find a place to be accepted. It was almost cute to think that anyone would look up to him, ex-Pentacle programer. He didn't expect an explanation for his midnight intrusion. He would help Dexter if he needed it, and that was that.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Roddy sat him down on a couch in the living room, and went into the kitchen for drinks. The fireplace was lit, and Dexter was thankful for its distracting warmth. He tried to get his thoughts in order.

"I keep having these weird dreams lately. And tonight, I woke up as Freakazoid."

Roddy handed him a soda and sat in the armchair opposite the teen. "Sounds like simple dream- morphin' to me. It'd be like droolin' on your pillow or sleep-walkin'."

"I-I guess so."

Dexter's eyes widened suddenly, and he froze.

"Laddy?"

"I just calculated pi to two hundred decimal points."

"In your head?"

"Yeah. Microphones really can't taste too good."

Roddy raised his eyesbrows and didn't waver his vision from Dexter's face.

"See, this comedian was making a joke about pi, and he accidentally stepped on the microphone cord, which pulled it..."

"De-xter."

"Yeah?" The teen stopped and looked up at the scotsman's face. "Wh... What?"

"I think I see what your problem is now, laddy."

To Be Continued...