Another day like every other in the life of Timmy Turner was passing by. He had just failed his science test, and Chloe had passed that exact same test, then she and A.J. proceeded to kick sand in Timmy's face as a boast. Just right when he got into the living room of his home, his jubilant parents leaped right in front of him, like sugar-fed puppies.
"Hey Timmy, we're going out to a buffet!" interrupted Mr. Turner.
"But you're not coming because the buffet has a lot of liquor drinks and we can't seem to trust people like you around such things!" added Mrs. Turner.
"I'm ten years old," the child remarked.
"And you know what that means!" chorused Mr. Turner.
"It means that Vicky is coming to babysit me and make waste of my all-too-short life," sighed Timmy depressedly.
"To a T you are correct!" responded Mrs. Turner. She opened the door for Vicky, and the couple marched out from the abode. Vicky stomped in with a malicious look on her face.
"Hey, twerp, guess who's with me," she said in a singsong tone, with a taser gripped into her right hand.
Before Timmy could respond, the shock of the taser bruised him and made him fall. Seeing as he could not move, he decided to think for the time being to keep himself from being bored, as a saw hacked into his left leg.
Just wait til' Cosmo and Wanda hear about this. They'll be shocked. I wonder if THEY were ever as miserable as I am now. Maybe they are. Maybe in a way I had never expected. Maybe I could have been their torturer. It may sound crazy, but it is possible.
Then he began to have flashbacks of past events, and specific quotes to boot.
We are here to grant wishes, not to be your slaves! We don't have to take this, you know! Wanda's rage echoed furiously through the boy's head.
Remember, your fairies are here to help you when you need it, not act as your private wish butlers! scolded Jorgen.
We only have two hands and two wands, Wanda's voice revisiting him.
Do I expect too much for my age? he thought.
Honestly, Timmy, someday you're gonna have to grow up! You're not a baby anymore, you know, remarked Mrs. Turner.
And he had just recently condemned Chloe for forcing him to share Cosmo and Wanda. He also hadn't talked with AJ, Chester, or any of his friends in a while.
Somehow, he was beginning to wonder if that Petite Equines In My Possession show he had watched with Chloe once was getting realistic.
Timmy kicked Vicky in the groin, then stole her taser, shocked Vicky with it, and immediately dashed into his own room, too panicked to lock the door.
"Guys, we need to have a serious, mature, man-to-man conversation," stammered the kid.
"What do ya need, sport?" questioned Wanda.
"I've been thinking." Timmy sat on his bed. "We've been together so long, I think it's time we drifted apart," he sighed.
"WHAT? No-no-no-no-no-no-no! You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not," admitted Timmy.
"How could you possibly go through with such an idea like that? It's awful enough you even thought about it!"
"Let me explain," he added on.
"You see, you know I'm miserable, right?"
Both Cosmo and Wanda nodded at Timmy's statement.
"Well, if I keep staying with you all my life, I'll be even more miserable. The fact that I am being seen as unable to take care of myself sickens me. What's even worse is how not even my life is better. I see my friends even less than I did before because I'm so attached to you. And I don't even get many NEW friends in return. Poof only comes home from school on the holidays, and who knows where Sparky's at! We should all move on, there are probably kids with worse lives out there that need you, what with the fairy shortage and all."
But we love you!" exclaimed Cosmo.
"I love you too, but even so…" sighed Timmy.
"Alright, if it's YOUR choice," retorted Wanda.
"I wish… I could defend myself…" he uttered. The two fairies were gone in the blink of an eye. Timmy picked up an MP3 player, a tuna sandwich in a plastic bag, and a knife, then he evacuated his room to go the living room where the door outside was located. Vicky was still too dazed to react because of the assault she had received. The boy opened that very door and marched out of it with his puny legs.
Timmy was sauntering down the desolate roads, all of a sudden bumping into somebody. As he looked up to see what that somebody was, he gasped. "Good Ol' Chester McBadbat! Say, what are you doing here?" he chided.
"Oh, I ran away from my parents. Life was too boring and tedious to sustain in that mobile shack. But, here, am I free and happy!" marveled Chester.
"Ah, same. I guess I'm not the only one," laughed Timmy.
"Oh, it's not just us. Look, Remy and Molly are doing it too!" squealed the blonde as he pointed to the other fugitives.
"I hardly even get to see my parents, might as well look for someplace better, even if it's in the middle of the road," said Remy, flipping his hair.
"Do I even care if people try to flip me over the edge? We're all individuals here. Unfortunate individuals who just so happened to lead awful lives," grunted Molly, covering her face with her hair.
"Very, very, unfortunate souls," whispered a voice. They all turned around to see a white, pale-skinned man with shiny, silver hair like no other person they had witnessed before with their very eyes. His eyes were an unnaturally bright red, his shirt was a cobalt blue with bright aqua spots, he had a patched, dull colored backpack, and he showed a menacing frown. "Waking up each day with a painful headache, watching everything in life go downhill as if it were Lucifer himself, trying to bring you down to his dark, blazing pit of eternal DOOM and ANGUISHMENT. When you've literally done nothing major, but you feel broken on the inside. But with a little magic, you are frisky and playful, without a care in the world on the outside."
The man then took out a carafe of cerise wine from his backpack and chugged it until the bottle was clear of any and all liquid. Then he threw the carafe into a nearby bush, shattering as it plummeted.
"My name is Viggo, and I do not give a fuck about anything!" Viggo started prancing around the road blissfully, until a car came by him, and trampled his fragile body. It was a gruesome sight, he was bleeding from the chest, stomach, arms, and legs, and a few of his bones seemed to be fragmented. The driver called for an ambulance.
"D-Do you think he's okay?" whimpered Chester.
"I'm not sure," replied Timmy.
But, the four refugees could not help themselves but burst into barrels of chuckling. It was only until eleven seconds later that they came to their senses, and analyzed closely as to what had just happened. They slightly winced at the body, but then they each stared at each other. Timmy gave a huge gasp and started running around.
"Guys! Guys! I've cracked the code, I've cracked the MYSTERY!" he squealed joyfully.
"Which mystery?" pondered Remy.
"Pay attention real closely," advised the buck-toothed boy. "If you do, you'll be amazed, just like me."
"Explain", prodded Molly. Timmy took another breath of air and then started to speak in a speedy manner.
"Ever since Viggo got run over, we've been extremely entertained. But now that that's a thing in the past, we don't feel that way anymore. Similarly, our abusers are entertained by us being tortured. So, I figured that if we become like THEM, and turn the tables a little bit, we can find eternal contentedness. So, by recycling the woe WE feel onto others, our woe will decrease as their woe increases! And as the woe we feel decreases and the woe they feel increases, the amount of woe in the world will eventually balance out to make everyone on the planet on the same level of dejection! See what I mean?" Timmy smirked creepily at the other three children.
"Um… what?" stumbled Chester.
"He's saying that we should take our pain out on others," answered Molly.
"Oh," replied Chester. "COOL!"
"YAY!" screamed the four cheerfully.
The very next day was a Tuesday. Timmy sighed. Even more reminders that he was living in a bleak, depressing society. And there were 3 more days left of his schoolery, in this week alone. Things had gone as expected. "Blegh," groaned Timmy. Mr. Crocker's hosting another one of his stupid pop quizzes for the gazillionth time, he added in his mind.
"And anyone who fails this test will have detention for 4 hours after school!" Crocker proudly announced. "Aw, crud," moped Timmy. Then he hung his head in shame.
"TURNER!" shrieked the hunchbacked man.
"Yesss?" called the kid nervously.
"What is natural selection?"
"Um…" croaked Timmy.
"Well?" reminded Crocker.
"It's… uh… something that should have DAMN WELL done away with you a long time ago!" Timmy hissed.
The entire classroom, save for Timmy, gasped loudly. Some made a few silent giggles, while others were mortally petrified at the shocking case of events. Crocker burst out laughing.
"Turner, oh, Turner! What a STATEMENT! Such a statement brings harsh reality to our table as we speak! Everyone should be aware of this remarkable quote at ONCE! I can see the fear in your eyes, class, as you dread the dark, bitter truthfulness of the words this man has to say!" Crocker declared.
Timmy blinked twice.
"HA! THAT WAS A PSYCH! IT WAS A PSYCH INDEED! YOU MEAN NOTHING! YOU ARE JUST AN EDGY NOBODY! EVERYONE RIDICULE TURNER WHILE WE GIVE HIM THE EDGY NOBODY AWARD! EHE-HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!"
Crocker pulled on a rope hanging from the ceiling, which opened up a trap door on top of Timmy, where a ribbon that said Edgy Nobody fell on his body, and a toaster fell on his head. Then burnt toast popped out of the toaster.
"Tell me, Turner, more of you narcissistic views about the world," chided the teacher.
"I firmly believe that such a concept as 'natural selection' is a pure myth. It is not a realistic concept to me. It is fake to me. I believe that Charles Darwin is a filthy liar. It is PEOPLE who change our world. And people shouldn't just die because of randomization, they should die for REASONS! Why should the innocent be cursed with these fates? Even if it does exist, and I'm just wrong, I despise it, and I will be sure to get rid of it." The ten-year-old adolescent barked.
"Well, Turner, you are wrong! For that, you will be receiving the four-hour detention!" fretted Crocker. "Can anyone else answer the question?" asked the teacher.
"It's 36!" screeched Chester!
"It's the process of a species evolving!" responded Molly.
"It's when an animal becomes a coward and sacrifices the other animals to save its life!" blurted Remy.
"WRONG! OFF TO DETENTION WITH YOU AFTER CLASS!" shrilled Crocker.
Timmy gave off a slight, sly smirk. At least the gang would have each other soon, and only each other.
Meanwhile, in the dismal confinement of detention, the four kids were plotting. They all had sick, wretched smiles on their faces. "Even after we took off, it's not over…" murmured Timmy.
"Then let's make it over!" scowled Molly.
"Well, how exactly can we do that?" inquired Remy.
"We could run away AGAIN perchance?" suggested Chester.
"No, I think school's pretty important," commented Timmy.
The children stared in a dazed awe.
"But… you hate school," reminded Chester.
"I do hate school, but maybe I wouldn't if Crocker didn't get in my way!" exclaimed the seething child.
"What are we gonna do about it?" said Molly.
"The answer is simple, guys. KILL HIM." Timmy spat those words like a spider.
Four hours of time had passed, and as such, the gang was released from detention. They were supposed to leave school by this time, but they did not. They went into Mr. Crocker's classroom, with smirks on their faces. Crocker was still in the classroom, plotting another evil scheme to depress the students. He didn't WANT to leave anyway. The abuse from his mother would be too much for him to sustain. This was a perfect scenario on the children's behalf.
"Hey, Crocker… Enjoying yourself?" whispered Timmy.
"Well, I was just fine, until YOU decided to rear your ugly head…" croaked the teacher.
Timmy pulled up the knife from his pocket. "That's good," he chimed.
"Now if you'd just let me do this little thingy, like so…" he muttered. He used both hands to place a knife to Crocker's forehead. He pushed down to form a slight cut, but Crocker took Timmy's hand, gripped it, and forced it away from him. Timmy immediately threw his knife to Remy, and screamed, "Remy, you go for it! I'll distract him!"
"Oh no, you don't!" growled Crocker. He made a hasty exit at the door leading to the hallway. Timmy and the others chased the old man down. However, to their surprise, someone like Crocker could run faster than they had expected. When Crocker left the building, the kids chose to speed up as well. Now Crocker dearly knew that he would be doomed. He couldn't even take the time to think where he was going anymore, only taking the time to speed up.
The parents of Timmy, Chester, and Molly were on the school campus, waiting for the students to come to them. But, they all saw the gang pursuing Crocker. Then they joined in on the run. It was quite a long ride, but eventually, Crocker crashed his head into a tree conveniently placed right where he was running, knocking the man out. Everybody gasped.
"I'll get the doctor!" screamed Molly's mother, Abree Keriann. She immediately forced Crocker's body into the trunk of her car. The Turners brought their son into their car with them, as did Bucky McBadBat with his son. Then they drove to the local hospital with the Keriann family.
"So, what is the diagnosis, doctor?" panicked Levi Keriann in the first story of the hospital. Crocker was in a hospital bed, as was Viggo.
"Denzel Crocker is in a coma," replied the doctor. "The prognosis is that after two weeks, he will awaken with slight brain damage, apathy, and a smaller attention span."
"Oh, that's harsh," whimpered Levi, and Abree patted Crocker's forehead. Molly slowly snuck, quiet as a mouse, to the window, where she took a leap out from the window. Timmy, Chester, and Remy were the only ones to have noticed.
"The cafeteria is open!" cheered the nurse.
"OOH, FOOD!" stormed Mr. Turner, and Timmy's parents sprinted like rabbits towards the cafeteria room. Timmy followed Molly out of the window.
"Son, what were you doing in chasing Mr. Crocker down like that?" questioned Bucky suspiciously.
"Uh… I wanted to help him see where he was going, but I never got the chance to," said Chester.
"Well, I'll be in the cafeteria to get us some food," interjected Bucky, as he too left for the cafeteria. Chester and Remy then decided to take a turn for the window exit.
The children were smiling. Even if their plans did not succeed, they did try as best as they could, and they did get into a position where they could at least be practically free. But only practically, they still had more dirty work on their hands. Timmy did not regret his decisions, it was far too late, too late for him to remember...