CHAPTER 2 - A Little Help

LOCATION: Dr. Shaw's Office, Downtown Cedar City, Grasslands Kingdom

TIME: 11:04AM

"Tell me a bit about your family, Lawrence."

Larry blinked and came back to the universe he was currently inhabiting. "Huh? What?"

"Tell me about your family." Shaw repeated kindly, hands sat gracefully on his knees as he looked over at the stocky koopa before him. His eyes displayed a genuine kindness and patience that when Larry temporarily caught his expression, felt nothing but mild irritation at how perfect he was.

"I don't know," He shrugged. "My father was never around, probably a deadbeat. Mom raised me on her own and then died shortly after I left home. Nothing wrong there. She was just good to me."

Shaw noted his answer. "And what about your current family?"

"I got my son, Nick. A bit shy, doesn't talk much, smart kid though. Couldn't hold a conversation but if you asked him about music theory or whatever he'd talk your head off a million miles a minute. My wife, Liza? She's good too. Didn't exactly care much for my previous job but still sticks by me. Brings home a neat income from her job so we're not surviving entirely on kingdom-given money. We're doing good."

"Sounds like you have a good home life."

Larry looked out the window. "And yet, I'm here."

"Accepting that you need help with whatever ails you is the first step, and for many, it's a big one," Shaw clicked his pen again. "The highest amount of respect I can give to people is when they have the courage and pride to be vulnerable. There is nothing wrong with being vulnerable. Everyone; all the kinds of humans, koopas and such all share the same brain processes. The electrical parts that make us tick. Vulnerability is something that we all share in common."

"I don't know Doc," Larry shrugged. "You could be onto something with his mumbo-jumbo psychology shit, but for me things just feel... I don't know. Stale."

Shaw began to write again. "Ah yes, you're not seeing satisfaction in your day-to-day life."

"Well when you sit around the pool all day and watch TV you kind of start to dread waking up and," He put his hands out for effect. "I know some people would kill for that sort of luxury, but when you've been living it for a while it starts to wear you out."

"So in layman's terms, Lawrence, you're bored?"

Larry gave a nod.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of. In your position it's okay to be. You cannot go out into public as much as you'd like to and your wife is working. But there's a marvelous thing about boredom."

"What? How awful it is?"

Shaw laughed softly at that. "That as well. But boredom is a good motivator. People always like to say, 'necessity is the mother of invention'. A very smart human proverb but I believe it can be that and maybe a quarter of that is boredom. Our modern world demands our attention so much that we seldom get bored. But when we do, it drives us to do many great things. What are your hobbies, Lawrence?"

"Huh? I don't know," Larry tugged on his coat. "Is drinking a hobby?"

"No. That's a vice."

"Well... I guess music. I always wanted to make music. Electronic music. Something that you'd blast in a nightclub, you know? But... ah," He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm too old to learn anything new."

"Thirty-two is not an old age. Far from it," Shaw explained. "It's never too late to seize your destiny."

"Try telling that to past me who thought running in a gang was a good idea."

"Ah yes, your old partners. You talked about them briefly before," Flipping the pages on his notebook, Shaw observed his scribbling minutely. "It sounds like you have had some unsaid frustrations with them."

"You could say that."

"Why don't you talk about it?"

Chuckling, Larry replied, "Because it reminds me of painful things."

"Fair enough. You do not have to talk about it now. But I will remind you that whatever you say in here is between us. Unless you're a danger to yourself, your family or the public nothing in this office will leave."

"And what constitutes 'danger', Doc?"

"If you were expressing thoughts of misanthropy, that's all."

"Believe me Doc," He leaned forwards in the couch. "That's not my style. Murder ain't anything to be proud of. Did I rough people up during my time? Yeah sure. Violence is sometimes the only language that gets spoken out there, away and under from civilized society. You ever been to prison, Doc?"

Shaw gave a chortle. "No, I have not."

"Good. Prison is shit. It will eat up an egghead like you and spit out all your blood and teeth."

"You sound like you speak from experience, Lawrence."

"I was there for five years," Larry held up his fingers. "Was going to hit sixth but I got out on good behavior. I couldn't see my son again until he was eleven, all because I was stabbed in the back. Two 'friends', working against us. They got me and Roy in prison and everyone else scrambled for cover."

Shaw held his pen towards him. "Roy. Can you tell me about him?"

"Roy? He was the weapons guy. Made sure we always had the latest hardware."

"And how would you describe your relationship with him? At least back in the day?"

"Well, he wasn't a fucking traitor. So as far as I'm concerned we're good on that front."

"And the others?"

"We got along the same as well," Larry said honestly. "At first it was sort of a business mutual relationship I had with everyone. But I guess in the end, we all ended up being friends. I watched the news for if they got caught during and after my sentence. Nothing. But I'd bet that they changed their identities and got out of there. Can't really blame them. We'd been left with a big giant mess and had to pick up the pieces ourselves."

The alarm on the table next to Shaw began to buzz incessantly. It was a shrill noise that the doctor was all too happy to shut off.

"I guess that's all the time we have for for today. But," Shaw smiled and didn't rise from his chair. "Will you let me suggest something to you, Lawrence?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"We always have a choice. That's what makes us, us. After all you had every bit of choice to get to where you are now. It's just a matter of dealing with the emotions that come with it. But I digress; going back to your boredom. Can you do something that would helpfully alleviate some of your restlessness?" He held his notepad in his hand. "Buy one of these and make a list of things for you to do the next day. No matter what it is. It could be watching TV or drinking, as you say."

Larry was skeptical. "But that's the stuff I usually do anyway." He observed.

"Yes, but the point is when you put your activities into easily digestible words and turn it into something to be accomplished, you will feel a lot better. Words are underestimated. They are very powerful in influencing the mind. You might indulge in your vices on a day-to-day basis but shrinking it down into something that you can say you have done will diminish any feelings of boredom and self-regret."

"Not sure I get you Doc, but... sure. I'll give it a go."

The doctor gave him a genuine smile. "Good. It takes small steps, but you will get there. For now though, same time next week?"

"Sure thing. See you then."

A sigh finally escaped his mouth as he shut the office door.

This was pathetic.

Someone like him didn't need to see a therapist... but if Larry could only think of one thing, it was that maybe Shaw was onto to something. Maybe things in his life had felt a bit disjointed, he thought as he wandered down onto the main street of the city. The air was sharp but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. A splitting blue image of serenity above him.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and observed the various people walking by him without a second glance. It was somewhat comforting, but Larry still felt anxious being out in the open.

Turning on his cell phone again, one missed call brightened up the screen.

"Shit," Larry intoned to himself as he dialed the number back. When it was picked up, he immediately adopted a smile. "Hey Lize, sorry about missing you. I was at Shaw's. What's up?"

Liza laughed softly from the other end. "That's fine. As long as he's not being a waste of money."

"Nah, nothing like that. He's actually given me something to work with. Anyway, I'm still out in Cedar. Want me to do that grocery run?"

"Yes please. Remember; steak, seasoning, vegetables and whatever else you want," She gave an excited noise. "Ooh, I like it when you're outside."

"Leave me alone."

"You know I love you."

Larry smiled. "I love you too. I'll be home in about an hour with everything."

"Wonderful. I'll see you then Lar. Love you."

"See ya Lize. Love you too."

LOCATION: 1902 Aspen Drive, Autumn Point, Grasslands Kingdom

TIME: 12:05PM

The mansion beckoned him. Well, the family home anyway. It was a modest thing but Larry could say that he enjoyed living there. At least he wasn't moving around as much. As much as he was bored, he couldn't help but love the reality of coming home to somewhere that wasn't being snooped around by the cops.

Parking his car in the driveway he hummed a tune to himself as he let himself in, brown bag of groceries in one arm and holding a notepad and pen in the other.

"I'm home!" Larry called out, hearing the television on in the other room.

"In here!" The voice replied from the next room over. Liza was watching television this time, the credits on a show just rolling over now. Larry proudly displayed the brown bag on the kitchen counter.

He gave a flourish. "Here it is!"

If Larry could describe one thing about his wife, it was that she was always enthusiastic. It wasn't the bubbly kind though; Liza had a rough personality, it was one that was always laughing at your expense but people always knew that she was joking. Deep down behind the humor, there was a heart that cared. She just chose to dress it up in a very punk-like style. He would have thought that she would have ditched the garb after having Nick, but Liza was always full of surprises.

At a glance it was still easy to tell that she was a mother though. That was what Larry liked about her. She never hid herself, at least unintentionally.

"Well done you," She replied, immediately nosing in the bag. "You got everything! I guess that noggin is still working, huh?"

Larry laughed and wrapped his hands around her waist. "Still have a few tricks left in me." They stared into each other's eyes with grins from both of them.

"At least your sense of timing is well done," Liza jerked her head towards the TV. "Just finished my soaps."

"Great. I can have the television now."

"Before dinner though."

"What?" He looked at her with a teasing grin. "What are you watching?"

Liza pulled out the vegetables. "None of your fuckin' beeswax. But seriously, I just wanted to catch up on some reality crap before I head out to work tonight."

"Right."

He turned to look at the television, which was finishing the credits with a flourish. All the good TV shows were made down in Neo City, the city where the rich folks never sleep or something like that. A bunch of over-privileged assholes flaunting their money.

Immediately, the familiar sight of the news came on. Never one to miss a segment, Larry took his seat at the end of the couch and watched, mildly aware of the rustling of the groceries behind him as Liza took up the slack and began to prepare the ingredients.

"Kingdoms in despair!" The reporter started, making Larry snort. Typical overblown sensationalist media. "Crime rates everywhere have gone up. Drugs, weapons, trafficking of all kinds. You name it, there's somewhere that suffers from it. What can we do about it? The average citizen may feel helpless and that is what Queen Toadstool is aiming to improve..."

Liza gave a mirthful laugh from behind. "Monarchs. They won't do anything to empower us."

"And now, live from Neo City, is the police chief who is assuring the fair kingdom that everything is okay..."

The room became quiet suddenly. Larry had the remote held up with a shaking hand. Whether it was of fright or anger, Liza couldn't tell from where she was. But she understood and regarded her husband with a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry Lawrence."

Larry shook his head in reply. "It's fine. Not your fault."

"Have you talked about it with Shaw? It could do you some good."

"Not ready for it."

She nodded. "Fair enough." She watched him as he wandered outside in a daze, taking up his usual spot on the poolside. Maybe one day he'd be ready to talk about it.

Larry sank into the chair, eyes closed and hands linked over his stomach. All that ran through was mind was the past. Talking about it today had bought it up and seeing the news bring it up also... he should have gotten over this years ago. He was safe and comfortable and loved life.

So why was he so bored, so hung up on the past that he'd rather be doing anything than be safe?

"Fuck..." He murmured to himself. "What can I do?"

He really didn't know. But the sun was beautiful today. The morning had cleared up and the rays were beating down onto his yellow scales. It warmed him, made him melt, the feeling was amazing. Now he remembered why he did this. Because in the end when he had himself, it was nice to know that he could at least relax.

A door slammed behind him and voices called out from the distance.

"Hey Nick!"

"Hey Mom..."

Larry perked open an eyelid.

"How was school today?"

"It was fine." That was the tone of someone who didn't find it fine. "I'm gonna go and study."

"Okay hon. I'll call you for dinner."

Nick was home early. What time was it? He checked his watch.

And then he swore under his breath.

Liza smiled as Larry walked inside, brushing the sleep from his eyes. "Good afternoon, lazy. Did you enjoy your nap?"

"Shut up."

She laughed and reached over from behind the couch to grab his hand. "Hey, you looked like you needed it. Wanna help me make dinner?"

Looking over at the kitchen, he saw the ingredients were ready. "Yeah, sure, why not?" Larry smiled.

"Hey, Dad?"

Larry snapped his head up, unaware that someone had been nearby. Thankfully though it was just Nick. Sixteen years old and he was a perfectly typical teenager. He'd inherited his natural blue hair from Larry, but everything else was all from Liza's side. It was easy to mistake him for her twin sometimes. At least he'd gotten the part of Larry that liked music.

"Hey kiddo," He greeted affectionately, muting the volume on the TV. "What's up?"

Nick shifted uncomfortably. "I gotta tell you something... about school today."

Larry nodded. "Yeah you sounded a bit down when you came home. Something bothering you?"

"It had to do with my maths teacher. You know him?"

He tilted his head in thought, trying to think about to the parent-teacher conferences that he'd had to go to. "Oh... uh, was he the balding one that always so gruffy?"

"Yeah. Brotchley."

Larry clicked his fingers in recognition. "Brotchley, yeah. That's him."

"He... he... uh," The kid looked embarassed. "He.. saw me drawing in class. After we were done with a quiz, I was bored and starting doodling."

His father nodded to motion him further along.

"And... and he saw it and yelled at me and took it and showed everyone."

Larry felt his stomach tie up into knots. "What?"

"It wasn't a-anything bad! Like it wasn't a naked girl or something, but he just showed it to everyone and then... then he ripped it apart in front of me."

"He did what?!" His fingers twitched. "Are you kidding me?!"

"No... so he didn't like... ring you or Mom today about it?"

"No. But... get this straight for me, he humiliated you for drawing?!"

Nick nodded. "Yeah. I tried so hard not to cry but he was just... an asshole to me and I thought... well, you know, Dad's a tough guy and maybe you could help out with this..."

A chuckle spilled out of Larry's mouth and he leaned back in his seat, but didn't say anything. He just sat there with his hands behind his head, his thoughts flowing through the cogs ticking in his rusty old brain as it tried to shake the cobwebs loose.

Nick looked on, hands wringing together in nervousness, wondering if it was a good idea after all to approach his father with this. But he got his answer when Larry leaned forward with a grin.

"What time does he get in tomorrow?"

Liza couldn't help but smile when, as she put on hear coat to get ready to head out to her graveyard shift, a lone piece of paper torn out from a notepad sat next to her sleeping husband. On it read only a few words.

'TO DO LIST

1. Sort out a problem for Nick'

LOCATION: Autumn Point High School, Grasslands Kingdom

TIME: 6:48AM

A bitter and cold morning. Just as he liked it. Larry proved that by parking himself in front of the heater inside his car. Just as always, this kind of thing was just a waiting game. There was nothing suspicious about a grown adult sitting in a brown sedan outside a high school, he thought sarcastically to himself. Larry wouldn't be surprised if the APPD were tapping on his window in a couple of minutes.

But he would have just told the cops that he had better things to do than to prey on annoying teenagers.

The brown brick building sat outside his window, a wretched den of harsh education that saw many traffic each and every day. Tired students, overworked teachers, corrupt higher-ups taking all the credit for the hard work. He was just glad he never got into teaching. He idly tapped a claw on dashboard, trying to keep an eye out for his prey, but it was hard to keep awake when he hadn't had breakfast yet. Or a coffee. Or even a cigarette. All that he had was his 5 o'clock shadow and a winter jacket that just rustled annoyingly whenever he moved.

It had just ticked over to 7AM when he saw him. It wasn't that hard to spot in all honesty, but Larry could suddenly understand why the guy was so hated.

If there was ever one name for a balding, middle aged man such as the one Larry was seeing, it was 'greasy prick'. The word rang low in his throat as he braved the cold air outside.

"Hey!" He called out halfway across the parking lot. "Brotchley, right?!"

Brotchley span around, holding a briefcase and wearing what only Larry could describe as best he could a mustard stained knitted vest that screamed for mercy under his pot belly.

"What do you want?"

"I just want to talk about something between you and my son." He said coolly, approaching him with his hands in his pockets.

Brotchley snorted. "Yeah? Who's your kid then?"

"Nick. Nicholas Koopa. He takes your maths class."

"Your kid, huh?"

"Yeah. He's my kid," Larry intoned more harshly. "And do you know what he told me?"

What he got in reply was a dismissive hand. "Listen if you wanna complain, join the line. File it to the principal or whatever, I've got work to do here and- AGH!" He suddenly felt his arms being twisted, his head smashed against the bonnet on a car. "What the f-fuck is this- AGH!"

"You think you can fucking walk away from me you fat piece of shit, you got another thing coming," Larry held him down, his voice turning into a growl that reverberated through their ears. "What is this I hear about you embarrassing my son in front of your class?"

"I don't know what you're talking about- AAAGH!"

Larry dug his fingers into his arm further. "You can't be that mentally damaged, it happened yesterday. Answer again."

The teacher wriggled futilely. "H-he was drawing in my class!"

"He was done with his work. You had no reason to take it, show it to everyone and then rip it apart in front of him. Do you get off on being a prick to your students, huh?"

"H-help me! Assault-!" Larry slammed his head down again.

"Fucking listen to me. You're lucky you didn't do anything worse, otherwise I would have taken that briefcase you carry around and shoved it so far up your fucking ass that you would have been belching out test scores. I don't care what mid-life crisis you're going through but you are not going to take it out on my son. Why are you a teacher? If you're going to be a grade-A asshole to the kids who rely on you for guidance and support then I suggest that you quit your fucking job.

Now, if I hear from Nick again that you've done something to him I will follow you home, break into your house and shove your head into a fucking television. Do you hear me?"

Brotchley still struggled - a lot of energy for a big man. "I- I..."

"Do. You. Hear. Me?" Larry repeated.

"YES! Yes I do!"

Satisfied, Larry let go. The teacher spun around, looking at him in horror before scrambling to pick up his suitcase and running straight into the building scared out of his wits. Sighing and rubbing his temples, Larry simply turned around and began to walk back to his car.

He was caught off guard by maniacal laughing and clapping to his left.

"Were you really going to put a television on his head?"

Larry frowned at the stranger, wondering if he was going to suddenly bark his sins at him. "What? No! Of course not!" He looked up and down at him - ragged clothes, a weird almost twitchy look. A homeless guy most likely. "Anyway, none of your business."

"It wasn't really, but I couldn't help but overhear it anyway. I was passing by and just couldn't help but see what you were up to."

"Look, what the fuck do you want? Money? I don't have any."

"Oh come on Larry, surely I don't look that terrible! Don't you recognise me?"

Larry stared at him.

The stranger threw his arms out.

"It's me, Iggy!"

A/N: I promise there won't be too many OC's - this fic is definitely a lot of Koopalings but it's got a slow build up. Thank you for reading!