Fred the Freaky Barber
Author's note: Well,kiddies! It must be time for another update. I fixed the second chapter, yes, I knew it needed a re-write.
Reply to Warlord-xana: Thank you! I hope you keep reading!
Reply to Mireia: -blushes- Ah, go on! Thank you so very much! My goal here was to make a story that gave Fred justice, since all the other ones…erm, don't. Squeak, I aim to please, as always. Enjoy this one! (Fred's my favourite episode of all times ) And good luck with the Seventh book- it made me cry, and become very upset.
Read and review or I'll die!
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A daring escape
Being stuck in a place full of people with the same problems as you isn't so bad, when you think of it. It's more of a club, that way. Even if the club is full of mad killers with tacky makeup, mimes with split personality, and the generally insane.
So, it was only natural that the inmates that were forced to flee their home were complaining. Luckily, they had clowns to brighten the mood.
There was a lanky contortionist, named Colette whose hair had been victim to the terrible fire that occurred at the Home for messed up circus folk, who had been asked about five times by a resident of this home if she'd like a hair cut. Refusing once more, she sat down with a sigh.
"This place is a little too freaky," Colette admitted to her friends, who were eating dinner already. You could see it in there faces that they agreed with her, even though no one voiced it.
"It makes my freakish ability seem less freakish," Kevin said. He was woefully ambidextrous man, and was currently eating his meal with two hands.
"This food is awful," Hugo complained, he was hunched over, being a hunchback. All three had been jailed not because they were all 'freaks', no, they were merely criminally insane, though they wouldn't admit it. However, their friend, who was a dark skinned clown with simple black and white face paint, spiky red hair, and a black out fit. He was known simply as the Clown.
"He-h-he-h," He twitched, a little thing that happened when he laughed, "I have something that'll cheer you guys up, he-h-he-h."
The group perked up considerably, all leaning in to hear Clown's joke. He was an awful clown, who couldn't juggle or tell jokes, but then again, he was sitting with freaks whose freakish skills weren't that freaky.
"What did the farmer say to the duck?" He questioned, getting the usual response of curious silence, he waited a pause more, and then blurted out, "Bacon!"
The criminally insane laughed loudly, encouraging Clown to tell another one, and another one, until their criminally insane hurt from laughing.
"Okay, okay," He said, sounding pleasantly flustered, "One more…Two fishes swim into a living room-"
Colette's eyes went as round as anyone eyes could ever get, swallowing hard whatever was on her fork.
"And one says to the other," Clown said slightly confused, as Colette was waving her hands and shaking her head in a no like manner.
"What is it, Colette?" Asked Kevin, who was sitting next to her, eating, and listening at the same time. He looked up from his plate, with the same look of terror on his face, and now was doing the same thing now.
"…salami…what's wrong with you guys?" Clown looked very confused by his friend's actions, but he would soon realise why…a very painful why.
"You're not funny, Clown," A Southern voice of a much feared ex-she-ringmaster rang in Clown's ears. "Clowns are suppose' ta be funny!"
A fork found its way in the hair of this unfunny clown. How and why Delorus came across a metal fork, we may never know, as they clearly didn't have metal forks at an institution.
"An' all of you," She said her voice rather commanding as she placed a foot on the bench (chairs can be a deadly thing) where Clown and Hungo were sitting, "are poor example of the pre-formin' arts…I've be'n meanin' to have a talk wit' ya'll." She looked at them sincerely, as Clown was struggling to get the fork off the table.
"Wha-what kind of talk?" Colette asked timidly, because she knew very well what kind of talk it was going to be-a violent one.
"Colette, deary, I don't mean any har'ship on you," She replied sweetly, her one eye squinting, so it looked very small in comparison to her other eye, "You're a fine contortionist, a fine one indeed, bot…" Delorus pointed, leering at Kevin, who had put his silver ware down and looked dismayed at the same time.
"Wouldn't you prefer it if ya only had one han'?" She questioned, sounding full hearted about it, she pulled out a gnarly looking knife, and apparently she had got it at the same time as the fork. "That way, ya'll can be a real freak, instea' of a fake freak-"
"N-no, no, I really don't think that's such a good idea," Kevin waved both of his hands at the same time, showing her it was okay, "I'm really happy with being a freaky ambidextrous man."
"Nonsense," She brushed that away airily, but then there was a jolt, a snap if you will, and her voice returned to a screech, "That's not a freaky thin', there are plenty of ambidex-treus folk- yeeeeeeeeehaaaaa!"
Just then, a man in a doctor jacket slammed a tazer gun into her neck, causing her body to rack about. Delorus fell forward, knocking Hugo's tray on to herself, or something of that matter.
Knocking off the orange juice container off her head, she placed her hat back, and went on her marry way as though nothing happened.
The doctor that had shocked her gave a heavy sigh, "Will we be ordering another straight-jacket?"
"No," The other one, who walked up beside him with a clip board, said, "We'll take that one too." There was a nod, and they stepped off, checking up other patients.
Delorus wobbled away, bumping into various people and tables as she made her way towards the end of the lunch line. The line was much like a line from lunch, with pushing and shoving, and much food pilfering, only except no one had to pay, and they all had things wrong with them.
It was Delorus's luck that Fred was getting out of the line, with two trays in hand. How he managed that one, we may never know. He was wearing a large smile, which faltered when he saw that she was smoking.
"May some friends, have you?" He handed her a tray, leading her to two unoccupied seats. She seemed to be in a sort of daze, her blue eyes gazing to someplace for out, unreachable by any one that wasn't Delorus.
"H-hm," She replied thoughtfully, sitting down across from him. The chairs were an ugly green to match the tables and any sort of bean product. Fred started to eat, though he paused, as though to say something, but Delorus still seemed to be far away. Was it possible for someone to be soaking wet and smoking at the same time? Fred pondered this as Delorus attacked the pudding's plastic cover with her spoon. How strange this was!
How similar…it was almost like the other time, a time long lost in rhythm, when my once fair lass had come to stay. Oh, yes, as bold as you may. She sat down beside me that faithful day…
A younger Fred, younger then the one today, but much older then the one with the hamster sat on a park bench by himself. Yes, Fred had grown up…grown up naught. No! He had been good, very good indeed; he never had another episode since his hamster, though he wanted to so much.
He gripped his knees, listening to the leaves above him. There were fantastic colours over his head, and they sang tiny little songs of leafy autumn joy. He was just about to close his eyes when he left someone sit down next to him. There were many benches in the Nowhere park, so why sit down next to him? He turned his head to see who it was…
She gave him a tiny smile, a smile as sweet as arty clogging sugar, but that isn't what intrigued Fred about this young lady, what intrigued him was the great amount of hair she possessed. He knew who it was, for she every once and a while came around to the barber shop he worked at, bringing him produce from her families farm.
Barbara, my love was named
"Barbara, how are you?" Fred asked her kindly, today; like usual, she wore a pretty lace dress (a solid blue that matched her eyes today), and had her great blond hair in twirlly pigtails and four massive braids that trailed down her back.
And her fair hair, a mane untamed
"Wonderful," She replied, but she seemed almost worried, "Oh, Fred, we're moving into town." She looked down at her tiny folded hands, squeezing them tightly. Smiling even more, she looked up at Fred again.
"But what will happen to your farm?" He asked worriedly, trying to look anywhere other then her hair, it was sucking his attention in like a golden vortex. Anywhere! But her eyes pleaded to his, and he was forced to look.
"Oh, we'll make do…I-"She wringed her hands even more.
"What is it, Barbara?" Fred took her hands in his, they were trembled "You're shaking like a leaf, you-"
She squeezed his hands lightly, "I moved out, Fred, "He opened his mouth to say something, but she just shook her head, "so I could be with you."
Fred was speechless.
They spent many happy years together in an apartment house above the barber shop were Fred worked. They lived together, and everything was perfect…
Barbara was napping on a wee red sofa; her hair was down, like a blond waterfall. Fred mounted the steps after he had shut down the shop for the night (it was his turn that day), once in his home, and upon seeing Barbara; he let out a sigh of joy. His life was perfectly complete.
Until one evening, I'm ashamed…
He turned on the light nearest to Barbara, it didn't wake her. He sat down in the moth –hole ridden chair, that was next to the coffee table, that was next to the sofa, that Barbara was on. The lamp light caught her hair…
Fred picked up the Nowhere Times, in a vain attempted to distract himself. His fingers tightened on the newspaper, he was clearly losing this fight with himself. He soon was re-reading the same line over and over again, until his eyes wandered above the newspaper.
He stood up, and then went on his knees by the sofa. Fred ran his hands through her golden locks, letting out a noise of joy. It was so soft, so smooth…He became painfully aware of his razor in his pocket. He always kept it, even though he wasn't allowed to use it. No…one day he'd open a shop of his own…Fred swallowed hard, fighting an impulse that had never showed its head since Barbara came into his life…
I got a little…naughty
With out thinking, his hand slipped into his pocket, and pulled out the hand held razor. His subconscious made a little thither about this, but it was soon overrode by something all together more powerful…
Vrrrn
…His need to cut. It was all consuming- Barbara's hair hit his face as she shaved her head masterfully, as though it was his calling in life to cut, trim, shave. It was his luck that Barbara was such a deep sleeper, otherwise…
Fred stood up, looking pleased with himself as he stood in a sea of his lovers hair. With a smile as wide as it could possibly go, he staggered off to his bedroom for the night.
He woke up that next morning, not remembering what happened the night before completely, like many people; sane and sick. He couldn't remember when he went to sleep, but as he pulled himself out of bed, thoughts of Barbara filled his head. He couldn't wait to wake her up, or in this case, pick her up, and put her in bed.
The look upon my young loves face -As sweet as lace-
Feeling full of euphoria, Fred walked out of the bedroom, expecting the silence of the house to greet him. Today wasn't the case, however.
But in this case, I realised…
A bald Barbara stood in front of Fred, her face red and her fists curled. Oh yes…that's what happened last night.
"Dearest…" Fred said breathlessly, looking slightly vexed, "It's not what it- oh-"He held up his hands in dismay, backing away.
"What is it then!?" She exploded, causing Fred race to the other side of the hall, being the kitchen. Barbara moved as though to throttle him, though Fred wasn't sure, and he sure as heck wasn't going to find out.
He tried to explain himself, but that in itself was a difficult thing to do when someone was throwing very breakable dishes and glass was your head. An old jelly jar, now converted into a glass, smashed above his head as he opened the door.
He managed to get the door open, and behind it as something large, maybe a vase, smashed into it. Panting, he slid down the door, looking slightly perplexed.
She needed space.
Fred gave a harsh sigh that caught Delorus' attention, but only briefly. She licked her pudding spoon and thought about something pleasant, though her face just crinkled lightly.
"Delorus…" He started, but she took no notice of him. Fred leaned over the table, swiftly taking off her hat. That dreamy look fell off her face, and if Fred had been a second slower, he might have lost his arm.
He twirled her hat in his hand before handing it back,"How would you like to go to the circus today?"
"The circus?" Delorus tilted her head, placing down her spoon with some satisfaction. The pudding had been very good, indeed. Her blue eyes looked a little more focused at she placed her hat back on her shaved head.
"Yes, I heard it was in town," Fred continued, watching the kitchen guard shift back and forth bored like on his feet. This would be easy, hopefully. "And tomorrow is Meatloaf day; I tend to avoid things like that."
"Whut do ya purpose?" She replied, tilting back in her chair like a Mafia Godfather.
"Well…"
So it was, that she and I, had found away to get on by
Feeding time was over, and the herd of insane people were making their ways back to their rooms. This was the perfect over to put their (Delorus and Fred's) plan into operation. They quickly stole into the laundry room, which was mercilessly unguarded at this time.
Fred quickly pulled out a clothes hamper, as Delorus kicked clothes about to make way for the cart. This earned her a smile from Fred, but he was already smiling. Yes, this time they would catch him again, he'd be long gone…
Amongst the socks, and discarded pants, and other thing mismatched and dyed
My new found friend leaped into the bin, a chariot of our devise
"Ya sure 'bout this, Fred?" She asked, timidly, under the pile of clothes. Her words were muffled, and Fred took no notice of them, anyway. He was too busy going over the plans in his head as pulled over the guard uniforms over his clothes.
There! Done! The finishing touch was the moss green cap pulled down over his eyes and hair, the baggy moss green jacket and pants made him look like one of the security guards the stood at the door ways. He gripped the bar thing that you pushed with on the cart, and began to push it out of the room.
He kept his eyes down, careful not to see or look at anyone. Eye contact. That would undo them, if some one would notice them, but no- No one would notice them. He slipped effortlessly through the empty, cold, heartless halls.
Fred's heart sped up as they reached the front doors. Simple cheep double doors- but they stood for so much more than that. They stood for his imprisonment, for everything he's ever lost. He took a deep breath, and exhaled, and with that exhale, his smile went. He pushed the cart though the doors.
"Top of the morning to you," He told the large guards, with their cleft chin and guns calmly. It was a good thing they weren't too bright, otherwise they would have seen him shake.
"Ew, laudry duty," The one on the left grunted, and his companion joined him in laughing. Soon, they had forgotten that Fred was even there, and he rushed down the stairs, his laundry making ow-ing sounds every time he hit a step. There were many steps.
They made it to the top of the hill, that lead to the outskirts of Haven, a town outside Nowhere. On the other side of the asylum was Nowhere, but Fred would avoid that place for a little while.
"Ya know," Delorus growled, popping up out of the sea of unwashed clothes, "Ya could have warn' me about the stairs." She looked slightly mad, but it was hard to tell with Delorus.
"Now," Fred replaced his smile, resting his heels on the back of the cart. It slowly crept down hill, causing Delorus' eyes to go large, "where would the fun in that be?"
And it was, that she and I, went down the hill that touched the sky. We were gone, they'd see us not. It was thanks to Fred, me, that we were gone
Delorus let out a scream, of joy or fear, that was unknown, but they were now subjected to gravities pull as they raced down Kansas's biggest hill. Fred's hat went flying off his head, his straw coloured hair flailing in the wind.
Hurzah! Free as bird can claim to be. And all the more opportunity to be…naughty.
They left a trail of filthy clothes down the hill and road, until the cart tipped in a ditch, causing them to fly on out. The Guards at the doors were still laughing. They had never seen such a skinny guard…come to think of it, when did they ever take the laundry out? And strange, why would they go down that way, when Nowhere was much closer than Haven…The guards stopped laughing. Not again.
