We wandered around the town for a little while longer, admiring the sights. We even went up the Dimmatower. I brought out my binoculars and tried to find Amity Park. I caught a glimpse of Fenton Works. After a couple of hours, we were ready to find the Turner house. We had to take a bus in order to find the street, and then we had to walk the rest of the way. Finally, Liz spotted it. A couple seconds later, I spot the renowned satellite dish, the red and white exterior of the house and the brick chimney.

"We'd better hurry, I think I see Vicky."

I couldn't see her, but I trusted Liz's vision. We sped up and reached the door. A bit nervous, I knocked on the door. I heard shuffling. The door opened. Next thing I knew, Liz and I were flat on our backs with three green, pink and purple dogs growling over us. Liz and I looked at each other and nodded. Instantly I pulled in my legs, kicking the green dog over me right into the street. Liz had done the same with the pink one. We stood up and faced the purple one, not willing to hurt him.

"Down doggies, down!"

The dogs obediently walked inside. The owner of the dogs was standing at the center of the door. He had on a pink hat, pink t-shirt and jeans.

"Sorry 'bout my, uhh, Alaskan Blubber Hounds. They don't like my babysitter and they must have thought that you were her."

"That's ok, young man. Can we speak to your parents?"

"Well, they're getting ready for a Parent-Child Hullabaloo at the Dimmadome. I'll go get them."

He walked off. By this time, Vicky had arrived and was standing next to us. She looked us over with a stern expression. Even though I knew that she was evil, I tried to start up a friendly conversation with her.

"Hi. I'm Morbius. Who are you?"

She turned and stared at me. I tried again.

"I've never seen pink eyes before. They're wicked awesome."

She replied coldly, "They're my eyes. You have a problem with them, twerp?"

"No, no, no problem at all" I shut my mouth and stood there nervously. Eventually Mr. and Mrs. Turner appeared. They were dressed in very expensive clothing, Mr. Turner in a tux and Mrs. Turner in a very beautiful red dress. Vicky automatically became the model girl.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Turner. I'm ready to have a funtastic time with the little angel here," she said in that singsong voice that she used around parents. Liz and I exchange a glance that said, yea, right.

"Hello, Vicky." Timmy's in his room." Vicky walked in. Mrs. Turner turned back to us.

"Did you two want to see us?"

"Yes we did, ma'am. Is there some place where we can talk privately?"

"Sure. Let's go to the game room."

We went upstairs and into a messy room. There was a computer and a VCube attached to an old TV.

When the door was closed, I began.

"How much do you pay your babysitter?"

Liz looked at me in shock. She obviously didn't think that I would try to get Vicky fired by staring out that way. Fortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Turner didn't seem to mind the question.

"$1000 each half-hour."

I tried to keep my expression neutral. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Liz trying to keep her expression neutral as well. $1000 dollars every half-hour!!! How do they pay their bills?

"I ask because my friend and I are qualified to be babysitters." I reached into my wallet and pulled out my babysitter card. I handed it to them. They looked at it, and handed it back to me.

"We only charge $8 an hour for each of us. Wouldn't that save you much more money to spend on your only child?"

They looked at each other. Cleary they had not thought about that. I silently thanked my mom who made me go to our school, which taught logic, although if Butch Hartman was right about how gullible people in this universe were, then we wouldn't have much of a problem with adults.

Mrs. Turner replied, "You make an excellent point young man. One second, we need to talk privately."

They walked to a corner of the room and began to whisper. Liz leaned over and asked what they were saying. Whereas she was the eyes of our little duo, I was the ears. I could hear better than she could. However, I couldn't hear them.

Jokingly I whisper back, "I don't know. I don't speak adult."

We both giggled softly at that. Both parents talked for a little while longer then came back.

"We've considered your offer and we agree with you. We'll fire Vicky tonight, although she has been a great one, shaping up our son in ways that we could never do.

Uh huh, sure, I thought grimly, if by shaping up you mean shaping him into a personal punching bag. From Liz's expression I could tell that she was trying her hardest not to laugh.

Mr. Turner turned back as we were leaving the room, "By the way, we never got your names. Who are you?"

I looked at Liz. She shrugged as if to say, whatever. I extended my hand and replied, "I'm Morbius, sir. This is my friend—"

—Elizabeth," she interjected as she extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm Jason Turner, and this is my wife, Wendy Turner. Our son's name is Timothy or Timmy as he prefers."

I was shocked. I had expected that some noise would have made it impossible for us to hear their names like it did in the shows. Obviously, Butch Hartman changed a couple things on his show. We walked downstairs. I though I caught a glimpse of Vicky choking Timmy. As soon as we were in view, she dropped him and smiled in the nicest expression.

"Nothing happening here, Mr. and Mrs. Turner." Her smile turned to one of nervousness as she noticed the expression on the parent's faces.

Mrs. Turner began, "Vicky, we know that you have been a good babysitter for a good long while." I noticed Timmy silently scoff at that. His eyes widened, however, as he heard what the next sentences were.

"However, we have just been offered a better deal. I'm sorry, but, we're firing you. Your replacements have an authentic card that qualifies them for babysitting."

"And it's shiny!" Mr. Turner added.

Vicky just stood there, stupefied. A couple seconds later, she began to walk out, an expression of pure rage and hatred plastered to her face. While everyone else's back was turned, she turned back, pointed towards me and mouthed, "You're dead, twerp."

I winked back with an air of victory. She turned and stormed out. As she walked out the door, I thought that I saw her pink eyes begin to glow. I frowned, but shrugged and forgot about it. That was a big mistake.

There. I hope that's better. Even though I've just started writing this story, I've already started the outline to a possible sequel, and like I said on my profile, I may invite anyone interested to write their own chapters and to send them to me so that I can post them. I'm not sure about it, though, so... anyway plz review
morbiusgreen