Wow, what a sorry piece of crap. Didn't turn out how I wanted at all. But,
still, I will unleash it upon the masses, and I won't be sorry! Bwahahahah
Uh, since I didn't give rights before, I guess I should do so now. Jhonen
Vasquez owns what he owns, SLG owns what it owns, everybody just owns what
they own. simple, yes? And I'm not making money off any of them. Really. If
there was a way, I'd do it, but seriously, who would buy my fanfic? You'd
either have to be brain-dead or drunk- Okay, before I ridicule myself any
more, let's just start the fic. Little note: I actually went to the Girl
Scout site. I laughed my ass off, and I hope it shows. oh, and this is kind
of a continuation of 'Maniacal Changes', but, also kind of a spoof. yeah.
One morning late:
"Johnny, could you come in here? We have guests." Peter leaned on the plaster-coated wall, trying to find a spot where his shoulder didn't get poked with nails.
Johnny walked in, drying his hands off on a paper towel. "We don't get guests-" he stopped dead in his tracks as he made eye contact with the visitors and let out a girlish shriek. "Girl Scouts!?"
"Hello!" the head Girl Scout greeted him with a brace-emboldened smile. Her red pony-tailed hair bounced and her green skirt twirled as she strolled over and presented him with a box of Caramel deLites. "They're America's Best Cookies! Buy some!"
Johnny only cringed back and continued to scream in horror.
"Oh, come on, Johnny. Take the cookies. Take them." Peter smirked. "I've already bought ten boxes- just open your fists, close them around the sides of the box, and pull it towards you."
Johnny gibbered. "Cute. little girl. sugar. aghhhhhhh." but his hands did come out of hiding and clenched around the diabetes-inducing treats.
"Thank you, sir!" the little girl beamed and Johnny was momentarily blinded by the glare. "Buy some more!" she ordered.
Johnny gave Peter a wild look. "Girl. buy. no.. help.?" He dropped the cookies as his brain re-routed all power to keeping his pants dry.
Peter, by this time, was guffawing at Johnny's all-consuming fear of small sweet things selling small sweet things. "Okay, okay, I guess you've had enough trauma." he wiped tears from his eyes as he went and opened the door, and ushered the three girls who had been silent out. He closed it softly behind them, and turned back to Johnny, who had been backed up against a wall by the girl wanting more money.
The girls who had been pushed out the door blinked and rubbed their eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. How had they gotten to the front door? Just a second ago, they had been on the sidewalk, playing 'Bubblegum Bubblegum', and trying to decide who had to go and talk to the 'creepy people'. As we all know, Girl Scouts should never be without an adult or guardian, but for all intensive purposes of this fic, we're going to make everyone who knows these girls really stupid. Suddenly, the over-whelming sense of doom that hung over the house crashed down on them, and they ran screaming into the night, forgetting everything they ever knew, much less that their friend was still inside the creepy house with the creepy people, who everyone knew were serial killers and ate corn flakes for dinner. Without milk.
Meanwhile, back inside, Johnny was still gibbering in fear and Peter was taunting him, while the Girl Scout went on about monetary payment like a broken record.
"Peter, so help me, if you do not- ah! Get away, demon spawn!- get this thing out of the house this- Aie! No, no! No tengo dinero!- instant, you will never know the end of your torture- Stop! No touching in the danger zone! Agh!!"
"Hmm." Peter made a great show of thinking. "Let's see. Torture, torture. Oh, I know! You must be talking about how you always leave the fruit punch out. Or how you never put the toilet paper on the hanger, and it always falls into the tub, which is always wet 'cause you can't stop taking at least five showers a day, and that reminds me, do you know when the last time I had a shower is? Because I sure as hell don't. How could I possibly get in the bathroom, when you're in there whenever I'm not asleep- are you in there when I am asleep, too? Are you secretly female, Johnny, and touching up your make-up? Oh, wait, I've got another one-"
"Argh! Okay, stop! I get it! I'll do whatever you want, just kill her! She's starting to drool!" Johnny was trying to actually climb up the wall to escape the grasping hands.
"Promise?" Peter pouted at him, arms crossed, hips out, and trying so hard not to laugh.
"YES!" Johnny tried to estimate just when to kick to get her head to get it to come completely off.
Peter snapped his fingers, and the girl froze. She looked up at Johnny, who was trying to maneuver his body so he could stay on the wall and still kick her without him falling, and then around the building, which she was beginning to realize she didn't recognize at all. Backing away from the hyperventilating maniac in front of her, she bumped into Peter and screamed in surprise.
"Hey, hey," he grabbed her shoulder, "What's wrong?"
"Who- who are you?!" she spun out of his grasp and her eyes skittered around the small, dank room, looking for her escape.
"I'm Peter. That's Johnny. This is our house. You're not going to get out."
"What do you mean?" she began to cry in fright, and ran as far from the two as she could. "Please let me out. I don't want to die!"
Johnny had hidden behind Peter as soon as the girl had run, and peeked over his shoulder, whispering harshly, "Let her out! She finally wants to go, so make her! You promised!"
"Actually," Peter smiled over his shoulder, "I promised I'd kill her. Don't you want me to do that?"
"No!" Johnny looked horrified. "Such a cute corpse! She'll infect stuff, with. cooties and stuff! I couldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole! Come on," he whined, "you said you'd get rid of her."
Peter shrugged. "I don't know. She's awfully fun."
Said girl was now clawing desperately at the wall with her Passion-Pink Stick-On nails.
Johnny, slowly coming out of his phobia because the menace was more-or-less a safe distance away, began to show his anger. "Peter, now!"
Peter sighed mournfully. "Fine, all right, take all the fun out of everything." The hysterical child disappeared with a popping sound and a pink could of smoke.
Johnny, on to Peter's game by now, asked in a deep and spooky voice, "Where did you put her?"
Peter only turned and smiled at him, putting a finger to his cheek and thinking out loud. "Hmm. Where could I have put her. Let me see." his eyes flickered from Johnny's doomy stance to the stairway leading to the sublevels. "I can't remember."
Johnny growled and took a step towards him.
"Maybe if you caught me, it'd jog my memory."
Johnny halted with one foot up and blinked at him, "Caught? What do you-" his unfinished question was answered a moment later when Peter leapt past him and sprinted down the stairs.
"You bastard," Johnny shouted as he lunged after him, "You're going to be really sorry when I shoot a nail through your head!"
Cackling laughter echoed up from below him.
Whee! Let's see what horrors I can come up with next!
One morning late:
"Johnny, could you come in here? We have guests." Peter leaned on the plaster-coated wall, trying to find a spot where his shoulder didn't get poked with nails.
Johnny walked in, drying his hands off on a paper towel. "We don't get guests-" he stopped dead in his tracks as he made eye contact with the visitors and let out a girlish shriek. "Girl Scouts!?"
"Hello!" the head Girl Scout greeted him with a brace-emboldened smile. Her red pony-tailed hair bounced and her green skirt twirled as she strolled over and presented him with a box of Caramel deLites. "They're America's Best Cookies! Buy some!"
Johnny only cringed back and continued to scream in horror.
"Oh, come on, Johnny. Take the cookies. Take them." Peter smirked. "I've already bought ten boxes- just open your fists, close them around the sides of the box, and pull it towards you."
Johnny gibbered. "Cute. little girl. sugar. aghhhhhhh." but his hands did come out of hiding and clenched around the diabetes-inducing treats.
"Thank you, sir!" the little girl beamed and Johnny was momentarily blinded by the glare. "Buy some more!" she ordered.
Johnny gave Peter a wild look. "Girl. buy. no.. help.?" He dropped the cookies as his brain re-routed all power to keeping his pants dry.
Peter, by this time, was guffawing at Johnny's all-consuming fear of small sweet things selling small sweet things. "Okay, okay, I guess you've had enough trauma." he wiped tears from his eyes as he went and opened the door, and ushered the three girls who had been silent out. He closed it softly behind them, and turned back to Johnny, who had been backed up against a wall by the girl wanting more money.
The girls who had been pushed out the door blinked and rubbed their eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. How had they gotten to the front door? Just a second ago, they had been on the sidewalk, playing 'Bubblegum Bubblegum', and trying to decide who had to go and talk to the 'creepy people'. As we all know, Girl Scouts should never be without an adult or guardian, but for all intensive purposes of this fic, we're going to make everyone who knows these girls really stupid. Suddenly, the over-whelming sense of doom that hung over the house crashed down on them, and they ran screaming into the night, forgetting everything they ever knew, much less that their friend was still inside the creepy house with the creepy people, who everyone knew were serial killers and ate corn flakes for dinner. Without milk.
Meanwhile, back inside, Johnny was still gibbering in fear and Peter was taunting him, while the Girl Scout went on about monetary payment like a broken record.
"Peter, so help me, if you do not- ah! Get away, demon spawn!- get this thing out of the house this- Aie! No, no! No tengo dinero!- instant, you will never know the end of your torture- Stop! No touching in the danger zone! Agh!!"
"Hmm." Peter made a great show of thinking. "Let's see. Torture, torture. Oh, I know! You must be talking about how you always leave the fruit punch out. Or how you never put the toilet paper on the hanger, and it always falls into the tub, which is always wet 'cause you can't stop taking at least five showers a day, and that reminds me, do you know when the last time I had a shower is? Because I sure as hell don't. How could I possibly get in the bathroom, when you're in there whenever I'm not asleep- are you in there when I am asleep, too? Are you secretly female, Johnny, and touching up your make-up? Oh, wait, I've got another one-"
"Argh! Okay, stop! I get it! I'll do whatever you want, just kill her! She's starting to drool!" Johnny was trying to actually climb up the wall to escape the grasping hands.
"Promise?" Peter pouted at him, arms crossed, hips out, and trying so hard not to laugh.
"YES!" Johnny tried to estimate just when to kick to get her head to get it to come completely off.
Peter snapped his fingers, and the girl froze. She looked up at Johnny, who was trying to maneuver his body so he could stay on the wall and still kick her without him falling, and then around the building, which she was beginning to realize she didn't recognize at all. Backing away from the hyperventilating maniac in front of her, she bumped into Peter and screamed in surprise.
"Hey, hey," he grabbed her shoulder, "What's wrong?"
"Who- who are you?!" she spun out of his grasp and her eyes skittered around the small, dank room, looking for her escape.
"I'm Peter. That's Johnny. This is our house. You're not going to get out."
"What do you mean?" she began to cry in fright, and ran as far from the two as she could. "Please let me out. I don't want to die!"
Johnny had hidden behind Peter as soon as the girl had run, and peeked over his shoulder, whispering harshly, "Let her out! She finally wants to go, so make her! You promised!"
"Actually," Peter smiled over his shoulder, "I promised I'd kill her. Don't you want me to do that?"
"No!" Johnny looked horrified. "Such a cute corpse! She'll infect stuff, with. cooties and stuff! I couldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole! Come on," he whined, "you said you'd get rid of her."
Peter shrugged. "I don't know. She's awfully fun."
Said girl was now clawing desperately at the wall with her Passion-Pink Stick-On nails.
Johnny, slowly coming out of his phobia because the menace was more-or-less a safe distance away, began to show his anger. "Peter, now!"
Peter sighed mournfully. "Fine, all right, take all the fun out of everything." The hysterical child disappeared with a popping sound and a pink could of smoke.
Johnny, on to Peter's game by now, asked in a deep and spooky voice, "Where did you put her?"
Peter only turned and smiled at him, putting a finger to his cheek and thinking out loud. "Hmm. Where could I have put her. Let me see." his eyes flickered from Johnny's doomy stance to the stairway leading to the sublevels. "I can't remember."
Johnny growled and took a step towards him.
"Maybe if you caught me, it'd jog my memory."
Johnny halted with one foot up and blinked at him, "Caught? What do you-" his unfinished question was answered a moment later when Peter leapt past him and sprinted down the stairs.
"You bastard," Johnny shouted as he lunged after him, "You're going to be really sorry when I shoot a nail through your head!"
Cackling laughter echoed up from below him.
Whee! Let's see what horrors I can come up with next!
