Hello, uh. Readers. Hi. Hi! Anyways, just a 'shout out' to luvschaylor4ever AND robyn. Thank you so so so so so much for giving me constructive criticism! I FEED off of it! Well, not really. But yeah. I know, tenses are my worst enemy so far. (and all 7 beta readers never DID PM ME BACK) . I'm working on it. Working, working, working, working…Oh wait, yeah! You guys needs doughnuts! Alex Stolar is on vacation (a.k.a. I'm sick of typing him in all the time) So, here. You guys can have doughnuts. Woohoo! Well anyways, I need to stop typing in author notes in the beginning so you people can read the story and (hint, hint) give me constructive criticism, which, again, I feed off of. (HINT, HINT)

Oh yeah, Barney is involved in this, so I'm very sorry if Barney and the kids aren't in character. Or if the songs are horribly horrible. (which they are, I may be an immature kid at heart, but have no idea about those learning songs or whatever.)

Disclaimer: Don't own. Tired of saying so.

"Buh duh buh buh buh-"

"Now for some EVO-"

"BAD DOBBY! BAD DOBBY! BAD-"

"Muahahahaha. Of course I will take ov-"

"LOOK AT THE WAY MIGHTY PUTTY SEA-"

"I love you, you love-"

I really, really need a life.

The TV is off.

The windows are musty.

My apartment is messy.

And my life is quivering somewhere in my closet.

I reach for the remote and turn the TV on again.

"We love you Barney!"

"I love you too, kids!"

Oh, goody gumdrops. It's just peachy that little infants love Barney, the purple dinosaur, so much. Frankly, I don't see why Barney's so hot.

"Let's sing a song, kids!"

"Yay!"

‑­

"Little children, listen in!"

"Stand up straight and be sure to grin!"

"Because Barney loves his little children always kind and neat as a pin!"

Uh…wow.

My eye is twitching slightly from the dancing kids. And Barney, with his blinding white teeth. Why can't there be bad role models for kids, huh? There always has to be good role models, with their white teeth and perfect vocabulary, and a perfect life, and perfect actions. Phooey. I could be a fricking role model for kids. I mean, look at my life! Getting fired…having a messy apartment…not showering in days…

The television is off again.

I'm sneezing from the dust on the windows.

There's a smell in my apartment.

And my life is still quivering in the back of my closet.

I really, really need a life. Or a job. Either would be good right now.

"Get out." Ice cold blue eyes are glaring at me.

"B-but, what am I going to do? I don't have another job, and please, just let me have another chance! Please." My mind flashes to an image of a cartoon me speared with a skewer, and green peppers on either side.

"Truscott, I don't really care. Just get out of my kitchen." I'm slow roasting on a grill. Slowly, so the juices will be at their full flavor.

I walk out quickly, trying to ignore the tears forming. I'm being turned slowly on the grill, sear marks on me. A pungent odor fills the-

Oh, just shut up!

HMLOLLIELOLLIEtikkatikkaowww

No. Fricking. Way.

I just scored a fricking date with a fricking hot girl who happens to work in my fricking law firm, but who fricking cares? She's fricking awesome.

Frick.
Frickity frick frick.

Frick. I love this. I love saying the word 'frick.' I love life so much right now.

I love life! Yes, that's right, to all you cynical freaks out there: I fricking LOVE my fricking life.

But...I don't love my apartment.

As I look around, I kind of wish that I had a maid.

Maid.

Frick!

I can do that! I can find a maid! Yes, that's right. I, Oliver Oscar-fricking-Oken, can find a maid.

From the fricking telephone pages!

"Okay. So, um…services."

11:23 PM

M.

Ma.

Mai.

Maiden In Distress Theatre.

11:32 PM

To the internet!

Google.

Maid services.

11:34 PM

W-what? A…pleasant feeling time?

Oh. My. Goodness.

11:40 PM

To my newly found to be girlfriend, Becca!

…There's a sign on her door. It says: DO NOT INTERRUPT MY SLEEP, OR ELSE I WILL SUE YOU WITH THE LAWYERS I WORK UNDER.

What the…?

Is that…supposed to be a joke?

11:40 (and 23 seconds) PM

Okay, last chance.

To the newspaper ads!

11:46 PM

I have devised an advertisement, because there were no maids offering services to clean living spaces.

Lawyer looking 4 maid 2 clean up apartment, call 212-3339 for details. Leave message.

And I will now slip that with 11 dollars and 57 cents in a manila folder with my local newspaper's address neatly penned, where I will now descend down a staircase, proceed to tr-

"OW. FRICK."

-ip down the said staircase, go to my mailbox, realize I forgot my key for my mailbox, go back up the fricking stairs, proceed to tr-

"OW. FRICK."

-ip up the said staircase, go to my apartment, find the key under some very dirty laundry, tie my shoes, descend down staircase, NOT trip on staircase, go to mailbox, open mailbox, and with much difficulty, jam the manila folder into the two inch slot, and trudge back up the fricking stairs, where-

"FRICK. I fricking locked myself out of my own fricking apartment."

12:34 PM