Courage awoke with a start in the cool air that smelled both sweetly and sickly of elderly people. A smell he found himself accustomed too. Courage was alive from what he could tell, nothing looked too different. Just a horrible nasty dream about Muriel's nephew Fred the freaky barber. Nothing more. Nothing less. A nightmare.

He would bet all his yo-yo's under the sofa cushions that there was no Christina either. Fred was locked away, for good. Courage saw to that last time Fred came for a visit and shaved his pink fur off. He shuddered and closed the thick, musty quilt around his small body, remembering Fred's razor as it licked his body. Courage's fur fell like a pink snow flurry onto the bathroom tile. The beautiful glowing white floor had cracks of pink on it's surface by the time the "Home for Freaky Barbers" came for Fred. He shook his head and whined.

Courage's thin black ear perked up the way any dog's ear would when hearing it's name being called by it's master. Muriel was calling for him, in the kitchen it sounded like. She probably all ready had breakfast ready, out and on the table. He hopped off of the master bed, leaving it's old person stink behind him as he trotted downstairs. "Oh no! Ohh no!" cried out Eustace.

What was the stupid man complaining about now, wondered Courage. About how old and bald he was? Get over it, stupid man. But these were things Courage kept to himself. Always. Or he might have found himself alone, in an alley again. Back propped up by overfull trash cans in the big city.

Middle of Nowhere may have been, quite literally, the middle of nowhere, but a far cry better than being a stray. "Eustace! Fred is my nephew!" scolded Muriel. He could feel his heart sink and his stomach fill with dread. Courage had so many questions but he was afraid he had little time to ask them. "He told me he has a surprise for us. I for one, cannot wait for that wee lad Fred to arrive. You know, HFB told me he was cured."

"Cured Shmured," growled Eustace, waving his two oversized hands at his wife. "That freak is still not setting one freaky foot in this house!"

Muriel reached a fat, rippled arm across the table and bonked her husband's billiard ball like head with her small fist. "Don't be so rude!" she scolded, once more. "I cannot wait to see what the present is."

Anyone following the lone ribbon of gray highway would have seen a rather large bus. If one were to glance at the tinted windows, not much would be seen. A few bingo addicted old biddies. A few old men who's pants were eating away at their wrinkled old bodies. Maybe a sprinkle of a few snot nosed kids. But there were four passengers riding that'd give anyone a chill. All with that same, wide grin.

"I hope dear children, you like where we end up," smiled the oldest woman of the bunch. Her crazy blonde hair stuck every which way from her head. "For the family owns a small pup."

The young child sitting next to her looked up through bushy blonde hair, like her mother's. Her little aqua colored eyes twinkled as she formed the question in her child sized brain. "Has the small pup been...naughty?"

"The freak is still a barber! A freaky barber with his own freaky barber shop where freaky things happen!" cried Eustace, wiggling his fingers to the heavens above. "Freaky barber things!"

"Oh and what would those freaky barber things be?" asked Muriel, wagging a forkful of pancake at her husband. When she received no answer, she rolled her eyes and shook her white haired head.

"Voila, the farm. My aunt lives here with precious pup and husband dear," smiled the man of this group. His smile stretched his olive skin.

"My heart is beating fast as we grow near!" cheered an even younger girl, her eyes of aqua shimmered in the sunlight of Middle of Nowhere. She tugged on dear ol' dad's pants. "I feel so nice! But I worry...oh, I worry so...I worry I may be naughty."

Still wagging her fork, all three heard the thick doorbell chime. Eustace knew he had been defeated as Muriel went to answer the door. She sure hoped the surprise was a good one! The dog coward into the corner, shaking and shivering. Courage knew that his nightmare was about to become real. Muriel opened the door to see Fred, looming on the porch, clutching his little satchel in his olive hands. To his side, stood a woman, about the same height.

Though her skin was more than a tad paler than his olive tone. In front of the two, stood two young girls. An olive skinned one who took after her mother in looks. Pale blonde hair that was as bushy as a fox's tail. The second one, a bit younger this tyke was, was pale like her mother but looked like her father. Muriel's eyes studied the woman who stood next to Fred and in a moment, her eyes beamed. For what the pale woman held in her creamy, milky hands was a bundle.

Not a satchel like what Fred held onto. A baby. A wee bouncing baby. How precious and darling was this! Muriel let out a sweet squeal as Fred's smile seemed to grow across his sun kissed face. Eustace peeked around his round wife at the family of barbers who stood on the wooden porch of the home in Nowhere. With a slap on the forehead, the old man let out an old man groan.

"There's more Freaky Barbers in your family?" he spat at his old wife, speckling her double chin with old man dribble. One Freaky Barber was bad enough but five? Five Freaky Barbers? They could make a band! The Freaky Five.

"Hello, uncle, hello, aunt. I hope we can all be friends," said Fred, clutching his satchel. Just like his daughters clutched their dolls. All sewn with that same sadistic smile below their dead button eyes. "Friendly friends. Friendly friends who are very...naughty."

"Ooh, who is that wee little baby in your arms?" asked Muriel to the woman who stood to Fred's side. Eustace held her back from leaping to a strange freaky barber just to see it's baby. She was a she but to this old, crotchety man, she was an it.

The woman glanced down then back up at the old, round blob of a woman with a grin. "Fred. I say, I said, Fred is his name," she spoke, puffing out her chest. What a proud mother. "I say, my name is Christina."

"No! No! No! I didn't want that freak setting one freaky foot in this house!" cried Eustace pointing at Fred. "But I'd rather have just him than his entire freaky brood!"

"Oh, Fred, me dear nephew," squealed Muriel. "Your children are beautiful! They certainly will brighten things up around here." She invited them all in and in they all came. "Courage, come and meet...oh dear! What are your daughter's names?"

"My name is Freddie," bowed the pale skinned little girl. She wore a pink dress with a white silk ribbon tied around her young waist. Her doll was dressed in an olive green suit like dear ol' dad. "Do my eyes deceive me or do my tired eyes behold a doggie dog?"

"My name is Chrissy," bowed the olive skinned little girl. She wore a white dress with a pink silk ribbon tied around her waist. Her doll was dressed as she. "Like dog he smells. D-O-G is what he spells."

"And that's how we spell naughty, girls," said Christina, who still held onto the baby. Fred the Second. Eustace paced back and forth as Courage sweated bullets. "Dear uncle, I can smell your fear. Such a smelly fear. No need to fear us."

"I gotta go to the hardware store!" yelped Eustace. The freaky barber family was freaking him out too much. "Gotta...um...fix the bathroom door. No one try shutting it. Because you won't be able to open it."

"Eustace, our guests, get to know them. They want to get to know you and Courage," urged Muriel. "This is Fred, his wife Christina, their daughters Freddie and Chrissy and the baby is Fred."

Eustace rolled his aged eyes and clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Fred the second and Freddie?" he asked, crossing his wrinkled arms across his scrawny chest. Eustace leaned into Fred and Christina. "Couldn't think of anymore names?"

The crotchety old man watched in horror as Christina's eyes turned white. "She was named after Freddy Kruger you dried up, old piece of sh-" she growled in a voice that was two octaves lower than before. Christina's eyes turned back to normal and she smiled. "Sorry about that."

Fred rubbed his hand on her back. "Christina was locked up in the home for unspeakable crimes but when she was cured of her second personality, wedding bells, they did chime," he spoke, giving her a small peck on her lips.

Fred may have just been a little naughty but Christina was a criminal with a split personality disorder. Now that's a bitch to deal with! Both of the girls twirled and curtsied. "Auntie! Auntie! You haven't said dear girls, you look so..." they said in time with the other. They glanced at each other then back at Muriel. "Naughty."

"Dear girls, you looks so darling just like your mommy and dear ol' dad," smiled Muriel. Her eyes caught Fred's green eyes. One hand clutching his satchel. One on the thigh of Christina. "You and your family must be exhausted."

The baby groaned and stretched in Christina's arms, making Courage howl like a rabid dog. His non-rabinous slobber landing on Freddie and Chrissy. "Oh! Courage!" scolded Muriel. "Girls, would you like freshen up?"

Both the girls nodded. "Courage, show Chrissy and Freddie the bathroom, please," sneered Muriel as she watched Freddie take her daddy's satchel. Courage whined about doing such a thing but the girls truly creeped him out. Creeped the very fur off of his body. "Such a fuss. This rudeness won't do."

Courage hung his head. Defeated. He nodded to Muriel. "Ok. I'll do it, but I won't like it," he woofed in his own dog language. Not to loud to wake the sleeping barber nor too loud to further slobber up either girl's dress.

Christina handed Fred the baby and hurried after the girls and the small pup. She watched as the girls headed into the bathroom and how Courage would not step foot into the bathroom. Christina's eyes turned white once more and a thick, gravely growl came from her sweet little lips. She kicked Courage into the bathroom with a white high heeled boot, probably what made her nearly the same tall size as Fred, and slammed the door shut. "One, two Fred's coming for you!" sang Christina, her back still to the door. "Three, four, Christina's coming through your door!"

"Christina did you say something?" asked Muriel, creeping up the stairs, holding tight to her husband's old, liver spotted hand.

Christina's hands shot out and grabbed Eustace by the neck, squeezing the air from his body. Muriel let out a shrill cry and ran to the stairs once more, only to be stopped by Fred. His hand shot out and grabbed Muriel by the hair. "Come dear aunt, play time is not just for the youngsters," he smirked. "This time, I'll show you how naughty I can be."

Fred headed up the stairs, dragging Muriel's fat butt behind him. "Bring the cow to the bedroom. Eustace is all ready in place!" howled Christina. She pounded on the bathroom door. "You girls have fun! Heh! Heh! Heh!"

"Oh! Please, me dear Fred!" cried Muriel, trying to free herself from Fred's grasp. Her skin felt hot and tight, it was becoming difficult to breathe. Muriel felt Christina dance by them but paid no mind to the blood splatters on her white boots. "Why are you doing this!?"

"Because I'm naughty," sneered Fred, closing the bedroom door.

"Alone we are with tender Courage," giggled Freddie who sat on the toilet lid. Daddy's satchel on her lap. "And all his fur, his furry footage, which, I say, does enCourage me to be...quite naughty!"

Chrissy turned on the shower and stared, dead eyed at Courage. "Courage," she beckoned, earning a howl from the mutt. "Your hair it reminds me of the first time I knew just how I felt about hair."

Freddie stood from the throne and neared the dog, revving up a electric razor. "This is a day I will not forget...the day I make a pet meet it's fate!"

Fred tied Muriel up to the bedpost, allowing her view of her husband, hanging upside from the ceiling in boxers only. Gagging and choking on his own hot and thick blood. His throat had been slit, they call this style of slaughter, Kosher Killing. Fred glanced up and down at Christina's handiwork. He wrapped her in an embrace and kissed her. "I have never felt so...naughty."

From Christina's bra, she fetched two meat hooks, a chain connecting the two gnarled hooks. She placed a hook into Eustace's face, making him make a weird scream and gag mixture of a noise. Christina threw the other hook to Fred. "Time to play a game of Texas Tug o' War!" she howled with glee.

Fred pulled to the door as much he could, all while Eustace screamed, howled and gagged. Finally, after much pulling and yanking, Fred landed on his butt, hook still in his hands, face sprayed with the blood of an angry old man, the other hook was attached to the crumpled old man flesh of Eustace's face. "One point for Fred!" cried Christina.

Muriel looked at the couple. "Oh! Please! Stop! Please! I'll give you whatever you want!" she sobbed against the ropes. How could either of them take such joy and glee in this bloodshed? How could they stand the alien noises Eustace made? "Please, quit hurting my husband!"

"Sounds like daddy's being naughty," giggled Chrissy. "Let's me and you sis, let us be naughty with the pup!"

Chrissy and Freddie looked at each other, where did Courage go? He was right there a second ago. They turned from the alien noises coming a room over to look for the puppy. Freddie lifted the seat of the throne and what do you guess? Yes! There was Courage. Wet and shivering. "Now, now," spoked Freddie, lifting the dog from the toilet. "You shouldn't play in the toilet."

Fred knelt and caressed Muriel's multiple chins as she sobbed into his palm. The dripping blood in Fred's hair was all too much for Muriel to take. "Don't worry, dear aunt Muriel," he smiled. "I'll make it as painless I can."

Christina flopped onto the bed and let out a sigh. The blanket beneath stank of old people and dog. In fact, this whole place smelled musty. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Would you care to hear the story of how me and Christina met?" asked Fred. Muriel nodded faster than she should have but maybe this would make Fred and Christina see the errors of their way. "My memories of her are sweet memories. Sweet memories of a sweet girl."

Muriel had trouble seeing Christina as sweet. "With tresses, oh, she could wear her tresses in any way, but my favorite was when they twisted and they would twirl!" said Fred, a fondness on his words. "She tempted me to be...naughty."

Fred clicked a knife up, a knife so slender and sharp. "Christina my love is named," continued Fred, flicking the knife back and forth on his aunt's neck. Back and forth. Back and Forth. Like a violin that spurted red ribbons of crimson blood. "Her fair hair, a mane untamed."

"Until one evening, you shouldn't be ashamed, he got a little...naughty," giggled Christina, ripping the flesh of Eustace's face from his skull, unfurling the sweet memories of the girl's at Christmas time for Fred. Oh how they loved to rip at the pretty paper that wrapped it's sticky fingers around the boxes. "The look upon our young daughter's face, was as sweet as lace!"

"That was the place that I realized we needed our own space," said Fred, before tearing into Muriel's neck. "We nevermore were naughty...well, maybe not never!"

"You hear that sister? Mother and father were talking of me!" boasted Christina. She turned to see Courage trying to plunge his furry pink butt down the shower drain. Christina plucked him out of the drain. "Playful little scamp."

"Eeeeeeuuuuuuh!" cried Courage as Christina sat him on the lid of the toilet.

Freddie giggled. "No need for panic," she said, her voice sweet. From behind, the little doggy fog could see Christina, beautiful and fair Christina, grab a razor sharp enough to skewer an eyeball.

Christina pulled an ear up. "Dear Cur, you fur and fleece remind of nothing found in humankind!" With a girlish cackle, she sliced one ear off then the other, leaving Courage to howl in pain.

"We could open a barber shop in the back!" sang Fred, mopping up the blood. "Into my shop, hair people can walk in ten a day! People with bouche above and beard bouquet! But no toupees, I'm afraid."

"No way!" gagged Christina, untying a now dead and bloodless Muriel. "There's no way we could help but be...you know...the hair that come in, we'd never seen such hair before! The bangs, they sang! The necks, they beckon!"

Both mom and dad could hear Courage howl from the bathroom, now knowing of the pink fur and blood red mess that'd be left to clean up. The door banged open and there stood the two sweet girl. "Dearest mother, dearest father, can we have sweet pooch for dinner?" asked Freddy?

In Christina's arms was the corpse of sweet, dead Courage. "So ends our little story," said Fred. "We, us Freaky Barbers, have our own home, a tomb for hair. Were mom and dad, and sisters have their own private room."

"What a lovely visit, Freddy my dear," said Christina, kissing our hero, ever dotty, on the cheek. "And we only had to be slightly naughty."