Chapter 4: Floyd

The alarm clock was set on the radio dial, which was tuned into the local classic rock station. Gru was already awake for several minutes. He rarely slept too late, but had a habit of setting the alarm just in case, a little something he had picked up from his overbearing mother who was quick to wrath on sleepy boys who lazed in bed too long. When the radio clicked on he flinched slightly, even though this was a long established routine. Dark Side of the Moon was playing, and while Pink Floyd wasn't his first choice on a playlist, it was far from irritating, something more over rated and over played could be on instead, like that fucking horrible Hotel California. A nervous chirp came from under his bed, reminding him of yesterday's events. "Oh," Gru snapped to attention. "Good morning to you, we got a visitor coming by later, ya know." He looked at the floor to see the mass of yellow bundled in terry cloth push out from underneath. Its eyes still squinted with sleep as it sat up and yawned. After a few rapid blinks, it craned its head towards the top of Gru's bed, noticing the sound.

"Ah, you don't like?" Gru asked. "I can change it or turn it o-" The creature popped out of his cocoon of towels and climbed up the bed covers like a spider monkey on crack. He stopped in front of the alarm clock on the shelved bed post briefly to study the plastic form and lit up counter before taking it in his bulbous hands. First he held it gently and rolled it in his grip until he found the speaker which he held up to the side of his head, where a simple bore hole suggested an ear. Then he sniffed and shook it lightly, and noted the power cord leading away down the back of the bedpost and into the wall. He returned to the clock itself, long enough to find the tuner and the volume. This startled him, but to Gru's intrigue, only briefly. He returned his attention to the power cord and followed it, stuffing himself head first down the back of the bedpost. His tiny form bumped dully against the wall and Gru was getting a view of something he was in no mood to see.

"A'rite, that's enough!" the man's outburst sounded more distressed than he wanted it to. "No money-crotch shots! You gonna do that, I'm gonna have to find some pants that fit you." He turned his head away and shuddered, the image still burned in his mind's eye. The creature recovered from this interruption and studied him cautiously, but was lured back to the clock radio. Gru noticed this, "That's music," he informed, "there's a lot of that stuff on the radio." The frequency was now on a classical station, and his guest listened intently to the difference in tone. Gru watched him for a few seconds before saying; "I'll make some food, you can pick out whatever you think you'll like, then we gotta get ready for the Doctor."

Gru stomped around the flat, waving a pair of very small pants that he had picked up at a local department store before his acquaintance arrived. The little yellow figure bobbed around the floor and frantically dodged his assailant. "We can't really blame him, can we?" Nefario commented with a smirk. "This is his last chance to be free."

"Floyd!" the younger man yelled. "Come back here, you little bastard!"

"Floyd?" Nefario queried. "Where'd you pick that one up?"

"Radio, long story," Gru huffed with the chase. There was no point in getting Floyd more agitated, so he gave up and walked over and took his place across from Nefario at the kitchen table. "This, this is happening so fast, before I can even wonder whether something will hurt him, he's in it."

"Has anything hurt him yet?"

"So far, no," Gru answered. "He found out about the electric outlets right away, but he seemed more surprised than anything. I'm still waiting on that bar of soap he ate, though."

"It's still early," Nefario speculated, "though he should be showing some discomfort at this point."

"Well, he's been taking some pretty hard falls, he likes to climb. Sure, he complains, yells, cries, all that," Gru tapped on the table with each word for emphasis. "- but I have yet to find a bruise, cut or scrape on him."

"Maybe he is a guinea pig."

"Lot of free will and energy to put into a guinea pig. You'd figure I'd have these on him by now," Gru shook the blue denim toddler overalls in his hand.

"Hello again," the older man looked over Gru's shoulder and smiled with a wave. Floyd had just noticed that Gru had shifted his attention to the new visitor. Floyd waved back nervously and his bare feet meekly tiptoed towards the two. His gate was much smoother than Gru remembered from yesterday.

"Huh-low," he folded his hands in front of him and shot his father-figure a worried look.

Gru groaned and rolled his eyes at the pitiful face. "Yes, Floyd, glad you finally decided to join us." He turned to the Doctor. "You know, with all this going on, I haven't even offered you anything. Beer? Wine? Perrier? I even picked up some juice for this one earlier," he gestured to Floyd.

"Joose?" Floyd lit up, remembering the drink he was given earlier.

Nefario noticed this and smiled. "Juice actually sounds lovely."

"If it's what you want," Gru shrugged. "You don't have to pander to him, you know."

"Pander, piffle," his other guest scoffed. "He just needs a little sense of belonging; he might even get comfortable enough to try those britches on," he implied his suggestion with a wink under thick, dark glasses.

"Fine, fine," Gru resigned. "Floyd," a third chair squeaked its legs on the tiled floor as he pulled it out between them. "have a seat, we're-" Floyd plopped into the chair with a catapulted leap. The two froze momentarily. "You see? Stubby little limbs and he jumps like a flea." Gru pointed out, on the verge of bragging. While the younger villain poured the rounds, Floyd curiously pulled the overalls off the table and held them in front of him. He rubbed his thumbs over the fabric and stared into the weave like he was trying to bore a hole into it with his eyes. Nefario gestured to Gru while he approached with the glasses. "The idea was to put them on you," Gru picked up on the scene playing out. "So you're not flashing everyone all the time."

"Maybe he needs a demonstration from you," Nefario snorted.

"Demonstra-" Gru shuddered at the enormity of the 'suggestion'. "Oh, Hell, no!" Nefario roared with laughter, leaving Floyd very puzzled. "Why can't I just put them on him and be done with it?"

"He doesn't know what you're doing," Nefario quickly calmed and retorted. "He probably wouldn't be so defensive if he knew what it was all about."

Over sips of orange juice (yes, Floyd had come to master the drinking glass) and gentle prodding from the two men, Floyd managed to slip one leg into the garment's sleeve, and after realizing that it didn't take both legs, applied his second limb to the other. Gru pulled the rest of the outfit up over his impossibly narrow shoulders, and for a moment the two congratulated the mutant on his progress. But Floyd was still unfamiliar with his bodily functions, and promptly pissed himself. This left Gru slapping himself in the head and cursing about diapers while Nefario howled with laughter again. Floyd felt a little confused and ashamed at it all.

Nefario helped Gru clean up and reassured the little mutant that it was alright. "I think you may be on to something here, boy." Gru's colleague remarked as he got ready to leave later.

"On to what?" Gru asked tiredly. "A hyperactive, idiot-savant, ugly yellow kid?"

"Think about it, Gru, his learning speed is super human, he seems next to indestructible, he's strong as an ox and he's very subservient, especially to you. Can you imagine an army of Floyds? An army of minions?"

"I don't think a horde of Tattoo clones would exactly strike fear in the hearts of my enemies," Gru grumbled. "I'm not even sure Floyd could hurt anyone, not knowingly, at least."

"He doesn't have to know, Ricardo Montalban," the man elbowed teasingly. "All he has to know is that he works for you. Of course," he added tentatively, "neither of us know how far he'll go with this learning curve, or how strong he'll get, or how big he'll grow. Just something to keep a mental note of."

"You think you could replicate Floyd?" Gru asked distractedly.

"I think I could do better with the right amount of tweaking," Nefario asserted. "I think enough randomization could be slipped in to make more individuals rather than clones." Nefario bid the two good night before departing in his motor scooter. Gru had to hold Floyd back from following him out to investigate the vehicle.

"Not yet," he chided, "gotta get you used to disguises,…and more pants," he finished with some tired disdain.