It was a seemingly normal day for Saint Dane. He got up, got dressed, had breakfast, and then went to go and attack some people with the Quigs. That was, until he found that they were replaced with cats once he got to their pen.

"What the HELL?" he said aloud. Okay, who did this? That's when it came to him; it was the Pendragon boy. Oh, one of these days, I am going to kick that boy's ass… For a few minutes, he thought about the evil things he could do to screw up the kid's life. It was a peaceful five minutes, until one of the cats began to scratch at his leg. He glared at it, picked it up as he walked out of the room, and locked the door behind him.

Just then, there was a ring of the door bell.

Saint Dane groaned and walked over to it; the cat was scratching him again. He opened the door, only to see a man dressed entirely in black and wearing a pale mask that covered half of his face. It was Erik Destler from a few doors down.

"Ah, sir, I believe you have my cat," Erik said.

Saint Dane looked at him in a confused way. "How do you know that it's your cat, Destler, and that it was here?"

Erik stared, looking a little angry. "First of all, Ayesha is a she, not an it. Second, I got her a new name tag yesterday that actually says her name and not something like 'Mr. Bigglesworth' or, 'Kitty Kitty', and she's wearing it right now." He pointed at a silver name tag on Ayesha's black collar. "Thirdly, Robert from a few blocks away told me that you were holding her captive."

DAMN THAT PENDRAGON BOY! Dane thought furiously. One of these days, I will KILL him…

"Come on, Ayesha," said Erik, holding the kitten in his arms. "Let's go home." At that, he walked away from Saint Dane's house.

Just then, he felt something somewhat cool, yet somewhat warm pour over him quickly. When he looked down at his black leather clothes, he saw that something red was tossed onto him. He thought it was blood for one minute, but after touching it, he noticed it was thicker; it was red, almost burgundy, paint from Home Depot. Wondering where it came from, he looked above, only to have a few more drops of red paint drip down onto his face from a bucket tied to the archway in front of his front door. He was lucky that he was wearing sunglasses that day.

"Curse it," he muttered under his breath. "CURSE YOU, DESTLER!" He shook his fist at his neighbor who was halfway across the street.

"That wasn't me!" Erik called back.

Meanwhile, up on Dane's roof, Mark Dimond was laughing softly. He spoke into a walkie-talkie labeled 'Bobby'. "Faze one complete, Bob, over," he whispered smiling, just in case Saint Dane was still outside.

From the talkie, Bobby replied, "good thing you read that book by Stephen King."

"What book?" Mark asked. "I only saw the movie."

"Anyway, onto phase 2," Bobby replied; "replace medication with sleeping pills." At that, he climbed up the ivy on the wall of Saint Dane's backyard, only to see Mark sitting next to the window. He handed him a small pill container of Ambien CR. "I'll assume you have about two minutes to switch the pills while Courtney distracts him."

Mark nodded, opened the window, and crawled through. Unfortunately for him, there was no sort of alcove or table there for him to land on, so he ended up getting a nice bruise on his back. He rubbed his side, and then went into the kitchen, crawling again, since it was close to the front door where Saint Dane was standing in front of. He noticed Bobby's girlfriend and his friend Courtney and her long brown hair talking with Dane. From what he could hear from about seven feet from the door, apparently she was asking what Erik was doing there, what Erik was like, why he looked so angry, and how he liked living in his house. All of Dane's responses were either angry or extremely furious.

At that, Mark had the feeling the conversation would soon end, and that he needed to hurry up. He got up, and saw about three of Dane's Cymbalta pills in a small bowl. He took out the pill container and poured three Ambien CR pills into his hand. In a few moments, the Cymbalta pills were down the drain, and the Ambien CR was in its place. Just as he was walking out of the kitchen, he heard Dane say, "Get the HELL off my lawn, you aggravating hag!" and a slap. That told him that he needed to get out as soon as possible; he ran to the back door, and closed it quickly behind him, but accidentally knocked over a box of screws that were on the coffee table.

"I did it, Bobby!" he said to his friend once he found him in the backyard. "I did it! So, what do we do once he's asleep?"

Bobby chuckled. "Courtney doesn't carry makeup with her for no apparent reason, Mark."

Mark grinned as Courtney came through the gate.

"Did you do it?" she asked excitedly, despite the fact that there was a big bruise on her cheek.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, and I knocked over some screws, too!"

As soon as he finished his sentence, there came a loud groan. "OW! Son of a-" There was an even louder groan after that.

"Oh," said Bobby. "Did I mention that I had the Phantom sneak into his house this morning and set a trap in his house?" (They referred to Erik as the Phantom because he never got caught doing anything.) "Before he came over, he told me that by the time it worked, Saint Dane would've been hit by a croquet mallet, and that it might be…where it hurts."

Mark slapped him five, and they began to peer through the windows to spy on Dane. Once they found him, he had muttered that he felt tired, and blacked out on the floor.

"Let's do it," said Bobby, and they walked in through the side door, silently.

"Courtney," Mark whispered; "you have the makeup, right?"

Courtney nodded and grinned a Cheshire cat grin. "I also brought some pinkish dye and nail polish."

"What's the dye for?" Bobby asked.

Courtney grinned so widely, it was a surprise that she didn't freeze her face. "I was thinking we should put it into his hair conditioner, so that when he takes a shower, his hair would turn a bright salmon by the time he was finished."

Bobby turned the bottle over in his hand. "Awesome!" Then he added, "we're gonna make him so pissed off…"

"This is the best day of my life," Mark whispered as he took out a tube of lipstick.

In a few minutes, you could hardly tell whether Dane was a boy or a girl, due to the fact that he had long silver hair and his face was covered in makeup. Courtney had just started to paint his finger and toenails a bright pink.

"Hey Bobby," she said. "Do you mind mixing the dye with his conditioner?"

Bobby shook his head and merrily took the bottle of pink hair dye. He practically ran into the bathroom, which was conveniently five feet to the right of him. Once he found the bottle of conditioner, he noticed it was almost full. He poured some of it out, and poured the entire small bottle of salmon dye's contents into the container, and shook it hard.

By the time he came back, Dane's eyelashes were curled and thick, he had green eye shadow on, purple lipstick, blue eye shadow used as blush, and Mark was now writing 'CHUCKY' across his forehead.

"What's that for?" Bobby asked.

Mark chuckled. "Its Child's Play," he joked. "I stole Andy Mitchell's Chucky costume he wore for Halloween a few years ago, and we're going to replace his clothing with it. The salmon dye's bound to make his hair bright red, and, well, I ACCIDENTALLY cut his hair with this kitchen bread knife that was luckily on the table right next to me."

Bobby gave Mark another high five, and once they were finished, waited another five hours before Dane woke up.

"Wh-where am I?" Dane asked aloud. "Uh…I'm gonna go…take a shower."

In moments, they heard the sound of running water. This told them it was time to swap his clothing with the Chucky costume. Courtney was the one that did this; she hid his normal outfit (which was on the couch) under the sofa, and placed the other clothes in its place. She patted them twice, and then ran back out.

"When will we know that it worked?" Mark asked.

"Easy," Bobby replied; "I made sure to blindfold him tightly before he woke up. He won't know a thing until he takes it off."

For the next five minutes, they waited, and then heard a scream.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

The three laughed uncontrollably when Saint Dane came out with bright salmon, horribly cut, messy hair, holding a kitchen knife, and dressed as Chucky.

"Hi, Chucky," Mark taunted. "Do you wanna be my friend to the end?!"

Saint Dane smiled evilly. "Wanna play?" He started toward the teenagers, who ran off into the distance, laughing.

"I like to be hugged!" Bobby called.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Saint Dane yelled back, but he was too far away for them to hear; Erik, who had just come back from a date with his girlfriend Christine, had slid over to him, grabbed his ankles, and tied a rope that he was using for one of his Punjab lassos around them.

"This is the end, friend," Erik said, grinning manically. He was still grabbing on his ankles, and they both came down.

Another five hours later, when Dane was about to go to bed, he found a whoopee cushion under his bed covers.

He inhaled deeply. "One of these days…" He fainted; he had taken the Ambien CR instead of the Cymbalta again.