Hi all. I wanted to make a sequel to Mort Goes to the Orthodontist. So these will all be little silly one-shots. Please feel free to give any suggestions as to where the two dorks should go!

(Disclaimer: I don't own Secret Window. I own "Chica Girl", but that kinda sucks. She can't even make a decent coffee.)

The Mall

And so, united by a horrible orthodontist's appointment made worse by Shooter's re-appearance, Morton Rainey and his new friend, who he so endearingly named "Chica Girl" found themselves walking across the parking lot of the local Mall...

"You do know you're saying this all out loud." A teenaged girl in a black hoodie stated, looking at Mort Rainey.

Mort stared at the girl in amazement as he realized he was once again narrating his own life. (And I do mean again, but we won't get into that incedent involing a rubber band and a bendy straw.)

"And what do you mean 'endearingly'! You haven't even asked me my name!" She snapped.

"Ok then, what's your name, kid?" Mort tried.

"UGH! that's not even the point! Geez!" Chica Girl stormed into the mall entrance in a fit or girlish rage, leaving Mort to ponder upon the terror that is teenagers. Finally, he too walked into the mall. His little pal was waiting for him and reading the mall map display. "Where you wanna go first?" She asked cheerfully. Mort wanted to know if there was a book explaining these so called hormones. First she was happy-go-lucky, then well, you know. And now she was the same old carefree Chica.

"I dunno, hmm, we could--"

"Ohmigod! It's Johnny Depp!" A ear splittingly high pitched voice shot out. Mort was suprised and confused. The two turned to see a mob of screeching fangirls stampeeding their way to them. Chica Girl grabbed Mort's arm and dragged him away so that they were trying to outrun the mob. "Run Dude, RUN!" "Joooohnnyyyyyyy! Waiit!" "We looooove yooooouuu!" "Waaah! HELP MEEE!" Was heard throughout the building.

Mort finally managed to find a hiding spot on the merry-go-round by the food court. "Johnny who?" He asked his friend. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head, sending messy brown hair all about. Soon, the two had lost the rabid fangirls and hopped off of the fake horses they were riding on. Chica girl dusted off her plaid skirt, and Mort, feeling left out, pretended to clean his glasses.

"So, Mort, what do you need at the mall?" Chica asked him.

"I really wanted a nice new shovel, I lost mine. I really don't know why I need one, but I just want a new shovel." He mused. "Where can we find a shovel?"

Chica girl looked at him blankly. "A shovel? In the mall? Gee Mort, why didn't we just go to the Home Creepo? Or Wally-World?" She bit her lip as she thought for a moment. "Well, one store must have shovels. Maybe if we search hard enough we could find one. I mean, we have plenty of time, seeng as my parents saw no problem at all sending their sixteen year-old daughter out to the mall with some older horror book author that everyone thinks is crazy."

"Yes, that seems fine to me. Lovely plot device... Wait! I am NOT crazy!" Mort snapped. He glared at Chica. "Do you think I'm crazy?" He asked as if daring her. Then he started foaming at the mouth.

"Not at all, Rainey." Chica just said, as if they were discussing the weather. She took his arm and the marched onward. The two were on the shovel hunt until something caught our young heroine's (is that how you spell it?) eye. "Oooh! Hot Topic! I love that store. It's got some cool stuff, c'mon!"

"Like shovels?" Mort asked hopefully.

"Erm, I dunno. It's kinda gothy, not that I'm a goth or--"

"Maybe they'll have GOTH SHOVELS!" Mort shouted eagerly. Passers by gave him near frightened looks, and the Hot Topic shoppers looked insulted. Just because their souls were plunged into "eternal darkness" until they grew out of that phase didn't mean they were goths! He realized that his little pal was allready in the store, so he went to find her. He saw her digging through a bucket of pins. He looked at the one she was holding. It had a picture of Captain Jack Sparrow on it. It looked so farmilliar.

"Who's that guy?" Mort asked Chica Girl. "He looks farmilliar."

Chica rolled her eyes. "Look like anyone you've seen, Mort? Maybe in the mirror, even?" She was a bit annoyed by the cluelessness he had when it came to his eerie resemblance to Johnny Depp.

"Me? No way! That ugly guy? I was gonna say it looked like some loser on the bus I saw. " Mort rambled, not realizing he was in a way dissing himself . "You think I look like him?"

"They do too." Chica Girl said, pointing towards the shop window. The fangirl army all had their noses pressed against the glass. They eyed him hungrily as their drool trailed down the window. "And we'd better move." The girls were rapping at the glass barbarically. "Quick! They won't like fire! Light this torch!" She ordered Mort as she pulled a torch out of her purse.

"How did you know that? And more importantly, where did that come from!" Mort demanded, lighting the torch.

"Haven't you ever seen Night of the Living Dead?" Chica Girl asked. The fangirls were starting to take on zombie like traits. Mort had them in a trance as they stupidly tried to walk through the glass, occaisionally moaning "Jooooohhhhnnnnnyyyyyy" In a low scary voice. Chica was right. He hoped he wouldn't have to beat any of their heads in. That was Shooter's job. The two rushed out of the shop, and Mort brandished the flaming torch. The fangirls backed away in fear, and soon, Mort could run to safety.

It seemed as if the mall went on forever, and yet, no shovels so far. Chica Girl had dragged Mort into Claires and Game Stop, but no shovels. Mort had even wandered into a hair products store. One of the women at the counter looked extremely pleased. Judging from the unkept condition of the man, she definately had a customer.He just had to be buying at least one bottle of shampoo. The other woman glared at him. Such a greasy haired man. How could he do that? He was clearly insane. Chica Girl just grinned at the sight of Mort in an uptight beauty store.

After hours of roaming the mall, and 12 Cinnabon stops later, Mort saw something so beautiful that it made him fall to his knees. It was the most glorious shop in the whole building. The illuminated sign above the door read: "Shovels 'R Us" Chica Girl stared at Mort as tears of joy streamed down his face.

"You know Rainey, you are such a sad case..." She sighed, helping him up off of his knees. "Lets go and grab a shovel quick. This store looks like a redneck's delight." She said.

"You can't just go and grab a shovel! It has to be perfect! It's the shovel that choses the man, Miss Chica." He said quite passionately, as if he truly meant it. Chica Girl just backed away a couple of feet. Together they entered the convenient shovel store. There were shelves, walls, and displays lined with shovels. Every size, shape and color. From garden spades to heavy duty shovels.

Mort stared at this shovel heaven in awe. "It's so beautiful." He whispered. Chica girl rolled her eyes and stepped away form a very charming (cough) looking hick in a tattered NASCAR shirt. Mort looked like a kid in a candy shop. He turned to Chica and said entusiastically, "I feel like a kid in a candy shop!" He ran up and down the aisles, occaisionally stopping and looking shovels. He'd see one and pick it up, hold it for a minute and shake his head, muttering "Nope, not the one." Chica girl trudged along closely behind, yet she wanted to give her friend some space. For her own safety, that is.

Time seemed to drag on slowly and Chica girl let out another sigh. Sigh number thirty seven, actually. She was keeping count. This was worse than when her mother used to drag her along shopping. Soon though, Mort gasped. Chica Girl looked up to see him take a shovel. It had to be the oldest looking thing in the store. It was merely a faded wooden handle and a shoddy metal um digging thing, whatever you call that part. Mort sighed dreamily at it. He stroked it, and Chica Girl stepped back a bit. It was when he started to lick the shovel when she spoke. "I think I'll give you a little alone time with that thing. Okay, Mort?"

"No time, Chica! We must purchase this beauty!" He exclaimed. When he saw the look Chica was giving him he said, "I mean, I must purchase it...sorry. I just got carried away." Chica Girl nodded, and they bought the piece of crap, I mean shovel. "It seems that everythig turned out okay today!" Mort said brightly, as they left the shop. A farmilliar sound caught their attention.

"Johnny!" "Please come back!" "You know you loooove us!" The fangirls were back. Chica Girl got ready to pull Mort away, but he jumped towards the mob.

"Johnny WHO? I ain't this Johnny feller you speak of! Now git before yeh get a taste of mah shiny new shovel!" He yelled in a southern accent. Shooter was back. The blondest and most twitchy of the group stepped forward. She must have been the leader.

"Chhyeeaaahh, like we care who you are! You still look like Johnny Depp! We must--" She was cut off by a rude smack to the face...with a shovel. The high pitched screams of the rest of the girls seemed to snap Mort out of it.

"Damnit, Shooter framed me again! Chica, you saw it, right." The girl said nothing. "RIGHT!" She nodded. The fangirls still continued to try to grab at Mort. "You stop that! The only one I'm hanging out with today is my frieind,...um, Chica Girl! So piss off!" He said, still not knowing the girl's name. The rabid fan-mob glared daggers at Chica as she stuck her tongue ot at them behind Mort's back, as if saying "Look who gets to chill with the good lookin' dude!"

As Mort was driving Chica Girl home, he asked, "So, am I supposed to call you Chica?" The girl just grinned at him.

"I'll tell you my name." She said as they pulled up to her house. "Later." And she hopped out of the muddy car that had "wash me!" written on the side, thanks to our little Chica Girl.

So tell me what you think, and still, I'm open to any suggestions!

Love, Mole!