DISCLAIMER: I don't own Total Drama. I also don't own Peter Pan. He belongs to Disney and the author who invented him.
It was a warm, dark, quiet night in some town somewhere in Canada. In this town was a mansion with a huge garden. Inside the mansion, up on the second floor, was a large bedroom. It had pink walls, a white dresser, a white make-up table, two big windows with red curtains, a white 42 inch plasma screen 3D HD smart TV connected to a Blu-ray player, DVD player, DVR, Wii U, Xbox 360 and PS3, and two white doors; one leading to the bathroom which has a Jacuzzi, shower cubicle, toilet, bidet and two sinks, and a large walk-in closet with hit loads of clothes, shows and make-up. The floor of the bedroom was sprawled with stuffed animals, fashion magazines and pornographic magazines.
The queen-sized bed dominated the room. It had a white frame, complete with a tiara with pink drapes, pink duvet and four pink pillows. Under covers laid a sweet, beautiful little girl named Lindsay. She laid asleep with a pink sleep mask on her, along with a pink tiara on her head, while cuddling a pink stuffed teddy bear. Apparently, the stuffed animal was wet and it smelled like Lindsay. Obviously Lindsay uses it for more than just sleeping easier at night.
Suddenly, there was a thud. It was loud enough to wake Lindsay up. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.
"Hello?" she asked. "Who's there?" She cupped her hand beside her ear as she leaned further against the drapes of the bed. She heard footsteps. They were quiet but slowly getting louder. They also felt like they were getting closer and closer to Lindsay. Lindsay began to worry as soon as she could see a silhouette through the drapes. Lindsay braced herself just when the drapes were pulled aside.
However, when Lindsay put down her arms she could see a human male in a green shirt, green pants, green tuque and green shows. He had a big smile on his face.
"Don't be shy, little one," said the male.
"Who… who are you?" Lindsay wondered, staring at the man.
"Why, I'm Peter Pan!" the male happily replied. "I heard that in a few days you will be turning eighteen. Am I right?"
"I know right!" Lindsay beamed. "Does that mean I could vote in elections, drink booze, gamble and shift?" she asked.
"Well, you can already shift, but you can do the rest of that stuff in this province once you're eighteen," said Peter Pan. "But you won't be able to vote in federal elections or drink booze or gamble in most other provinces until you're nineteen. But whatever. You will still become an adult when you turn eighteen."
"I know, right?!" Lindsay chirped. "I can't wait!"
"Whoa! Hold up there, Lindsay!" Peter Pan cautioned.
"Lindsay? How did you know my name?" Lindsay wondered.
"I know everything about you, Lindsay," said Peter Pan. "And came all the way from the Netherlands – err, I mean, Never Land – to warn you that being an adult sucks!"
"Why?" Lindsay questioned.
"You'll have to get a job, pay taxes, buy and cook your own food, make your own medical appointments, maintain personal records and all that other stuff," Peter Pan explained, sadly. "You'll still have freedom, but there will be less of it. Just because there's more stuff that you can do does not mean you will have more time for yourself.
"But in Never Land, you will never grow up!" Peter Pan chirped. "You can do whatever you want, whenever you want! And you can still be a teenager forever! All you have to do is come fly with me to Never Land and you will be young forever!"
"Really?" Lindsay asked.
"Really!"
"But how can I fly?" Lindsay inquired
Peter Pan responded by withdrawing a clear bag with a zip from his pants pocket. He unzipped the bag and poured some of the contents into his hand. He blew the stuff onto Lindsay.
"What is that?!" Lindsay flinched.
"Pixie dust!" Peter Pan replied. "Normally, I have Tinker Bell with me to give you the stuff, but right now she's busy, so she gave me a bag of it to give it to you."
"It smells like cocaine," said Lindsay, sniffing.
"Yeah, well it's not," said Peter Pan, quickly. "So, Lindsay, are you ready to leave this all behind and come with me to Never Land?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Sure!" Lindsay beamed, climbing out of the bed. "Just let me go say goodbye to my parents first."
Peter Pan grabbed Lindsay by the wrist and said: "Nah. You probably shouldn't. They won't understand. Besides, they want you to grow up because they're jealous that they've botched the opportunity of staying young forever while you still have that opportunity. You'd be rubbing it in their faces."
"I guess, but won't they miss me?" Lindsay asked.
"Yes, but Lindsay, think about all of the limitations they have placed upon you," Peter Pan pointed out. "Remember how they used to ground you? Stop giving you your allowance for a week? Banned you from watching TV or eating candy? Confiscated your phone?"
All of this caused Lindsay to boil up in anger. "You know what?! You're right!" Lindsay growled. "Screw them! Let's get out of here!"
Suddenly, footsteps occurred from outside Lindsay's door. Peter Pan realised that this was now or never. "We should probably skedaddle," he mumbled, grabbing Lindsay's wrist and running towards the window he opened to get in earlier. But before he jumped out, he lost the grip on Lindsay's wrist and fell eight metres to the patio. He was only a few centimetres away from the deep end of the swimming pool.
Lindsay's father burst into his daughter's bedroom to see a worried Lindsay looking out the window. "Lindsay, what is going on?!" he demanded, concerned for his daughter's wellbeing. "I heard unusual noises coming from your room!"
Lindsay pulled her head pack in and turned to her father. "Dad!" she shrieked hysterically. "You have to call an ambulance! Peter Pan just fell out the window and he forgot how to fly!"
A few hours later, Chris McLean lay in the hospital bed, covered in blood and bruises. He was still wearing that green costume.
A policeman entered the hospital ward and went up to Chris's bed. "Mr McLean, you're under arrest for the possession of unlawful substances, and for attempting to kidnap, seduce and injure a minor."
This idea suddenly occurred to me while I was looking up 'Peter Pan' on Urban Dictionary. I prefer Chrisney, but I just had to write this fic! This is obviously something Chris would do. And the fact that this is written rather than shown on TV, it was easier to obscure the fact that Chris was Peter Pan. *sigh*, I remember how I used to love Peter Pan when I was small. Thank God he's not real, otherwise I'd be screwed. I don't trust Peter Pan. I just don't.