Fanboy And Chum Chum: The Phantom Kidnapper
(A/N: Kyle's life has gone down the toilet now that Sigmund's in his school. How much worse can things get? Well, when one doesn't guard their tongue, serious error is committed.)
A Mistake Of Janitorial Proportions
Sigmund sighed deeply as he headed towards the principal's office where Professor Flan would be waiting to assign him to his host. And to interview his parents. The day hadn't been all that bad, in fact it was a welcome relief, but relief was gone now as he drew closer with each step to the main office.
FBaCC
"He wants to meet with me today," Kyle timidly explained to the janitor, still slightly shaken by the display in the morning. "Is there any chance…"
"Enough said, Kyle. Go get your wand and I'll meet you there," Poopatine assured, waving off the concern.
"Thank you sir," Kyle said, running off to go get his wand. Poopatine rode Brenda towards the office. He was headed there anyway to get his assigned student. Ugh, he wasn't looking forward to this, but at least Brenda was happy.
FBaCC
Sigmund entered and said, "Sigmund has arrived!"
"Sit down, sorcerer," Flan flatly replied, looking at the boy. Sigmund obeyed and boredly watched him.
"You 'ave mein assigned host?" Sigmund more stated than asked.
"After our interview," Flan replied, smirking challengingly. Oh his professor did not just challenge him. "Why Sigmund, where are your parents?"
Sigmund finally appeared to back down in a sudden display of weakness. "Zey, err, are, um…"
"Yes?" Flan asked.
Sigmund knew then that he couldn't get out of this one. Not this time. No excuse he could possibly make would get him out of it. He swallowed, trying to think up some sort of lie or distraction. He took a deep breath, but right then… "Ahem," Poopatine interrupted from the door, entering the room quite suddenly.
The two turned, gasping. Sigmund's eyes widened in shock. The first thing Poopatine noticed was the sorcerer's predicament. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. The boy had run out of excuses. "Mein fazher!" Sigmund exclaimed, beginning to answer Flan's question but taken aback by the creepy janitor's sudden appearance. He didn't get the chance to correct himself.
Professor Flan gasped and looked up at the janitor. His eyes widened and he exclaimed, "Sigmund's father! Oh, excuse my rudeness. Please, come in."
"Mein vat now?" Sigmund asked, looking at Flan in shock, then back at Poopatine. Instantly he knew how Flan had interpreted his statement. His eyes widened at the realization. Oh no, this wasn't good.
"I'm terribly sorry, I never saw you there, but how could I miss you? You look like your son," Flan covered.
"Father? Wait a moment," Poopatine began, as taken back, if not more, as the sorcerer boy.
Flan replied. "Don't hesitate, come in, come in, come in."
FBaCC
As Flan ushered him inside, Poopatine began, "I'm afraid there must be a mistake, you see I'm not…"
Flan pushed Poopatine into the chair next to Sigmund and continued, not listening, "Now, Mr… well, let's just call you Sir for now, why don't we? Anyway, sir, Sigmund is one of the top students in Milkweed Academy, if not the best. However, I have some concerns about his slipping grades."
"Slipping grades?" Poopatine asked.
"It iz nussink to be concerned about, really!" Sigmund defended as Flan handed the records over to Poopatine. Poopatine and Sigmund exchanged looks, Sigmund's eyes a mix of, exasperated, desperate, and pleading. The message was clear. At least to the janitor. Well, there was no turning back now anyway, Poopatine supposed. He might as well kill the time. He sighed in annoyance and looked swiftly through them.
His eyes widened in shock as he read, and automatically he replied, "Slipping is an understatement! Sigmund my boy, what's wrong? Is there something you're not telling me? Has everything been going all right at school?"
"Vell, uh, zat iz, you see, um…" Sigmund tried to excuse. Oh being stuck in this lie had completely thrown him off. On seeing Poopatine's unbelieving gaze, however, he swallowed. He had no time to guard his tongue. He might as well just let it all out, complaints and everything. "Eet ees my TV show producair! Ze fool has been pushing me und pushing me beyond exhaustion. I hardly have time far studies anymore! Normally I am all far ze camera, but zeez eez ridiculous! I cannot take eet anymore, I cannot! Vat am I supposed to say to heem? He does not care about mein wellbeing, just ze money I bring him! Und zere iz ze spell signings for spells I nevair wanted to share, talk shows, public appearances, ze fans, everyzing!"
"TV show?" Poopatine mused. The boy couldn't be more than twelve or thirteen and he was doing a TV show? And not some kiddie one either. As if that wasn't stressful enough, the producer was pushing him, possibly beyond what law dictated. "Spell signings, fans, public appearances? Doesn't that ninny of a producer know about child labor laws?" Poopatine angrily said. Now normally he wouldn't care, but this was going beyond ridiculous. "Son, if you're having troubles you need to tell me so that I can step in. Next time you're supposed to meet with him I'll tag along and have, let's just say 'a word' with him," Poopatine said, eyes narrowing. The child was being overworked and it was negatively affecting his grades. That did not sit well with him. He wasn't impressed. He didn't care much for children or their education, but he did have a sense of duty and pride. Besides, as with Kyle if he were to take on the role of father for this part, he could at least play it up.
"You vill?" Sigmund asked, eyes widening.
"Of course! What are father's for?" Poopatine answered, wishing he could kick himself and barely managing to avoid biting his own tongue.
"Do that; and I certainly hope, Sigmund, that your grades are pulled up. I would hate to have to make you drop out of Milkweed like your friend Kyle did," Flan threatened. "And believe me, I am seriously considering it. I am one letter away from finalizing the declaration. I hope you're liking Galaxy Hills. One of the other reasons I'd hopes you'd sign up for this exchange program."
Sigmund swallowed. "Professor Flan, I won't have you threatening my son," Janitor Poopatine firmly stated, standing up and leaning over the teacher's desk. "Are we clear?"
"Clear, threatened? Oh yes, of course sir. Naturally I didn't mean for it to be a threat, goodness no," Flan quickly covered, pulling back in his seat feeling suddenly intimidated by the man above him scowling viciously.
FBaCC
Just then the door flew open and Kyle exclaimed in relief, "There you are papa. I'd thought you'd abandoned me."
"Papa?" Flan exclaimed. Sigmund cringed. Oh his cover was blown.
"Abandoned you? Kyle, what on Earth made you think I would abandon you?" Poopatine answered. All at once he realized what he'd just done and gasped. He looked back at Flan, to Sigmund, then to Kyle, two of the three looking horrified and shocked, Kyle looking completely lost but sensing something was off. In an attempt to convey to Kyle what was going on before he became completely confused and denied it when the Professor questioned him, Poopatine added, "I was just, err, in with your…" Oh he hated to do this, but nonetheless finished, "…big brother."
"Brother!" Kyle and Sigmund exclaimed together, gaping in horror at the Janitor, then each other, then back. The one relief in this, Sigmund realized, was that he now had the comfort of knowing the Janitor was human after all and not some wicked overlord, though that was still in the cards as far as he was concerned. From what he'd seen, Poopatine ran the school, and Mufflin wasn't far behind if not equal. He hadn't even seen the headmaster yet. Did they have one? He'd seen four staff in all. At least Poopatine wasn't intimidating twenty-four seven.
"Brother? Why Kyle, Sigmund, I never knew you two were brothers!" Flan exclaimed.
"Neizher did ve," Sigmund answered.
"I beg your pardon?" Flan questioned.
"Long story, no time to explain, Sigmund go out in the hall while Kyle and I meet with good Professor Flan," Poopatine quickly said, directing the subject away from them.
"Well if they're brothers, the boy is perfectly welcome to stay," Flan said, still flustered at the news and looking the three over in disbelief. Now that he was thinking about it, there was a family resemblance.
"No he's not!" Kyle exclaimed.
"Have a seat, Mr. Bloodworth-Thomason," Flan ordered dangerously. Kyle swallowed and quickly sat. "I must say I doubted you even had a family. You and Sigmund both. It's quite intriguing to see you with them now. I'm certainly looking forward to the dinner at your home to see how you all interact and get along."
"Poorly," Sigmund sang.
"Oh shut it!" Kyle barked. "Wait, dinner!"
"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you. I'm planning to come over for dinner soon to see you in action. Precautions before readmitting you to Milkweed, you must understand," Flan casually said. Kyle swallowed.
"Kyle ze Constipator having a problem?" Sigmund asked.
"Shut up!" Kyle yelled.
Poopatine covered both their mouths and grinned innocently, saying, "Sibling rivalry, keeps things quite entertaining around the home. Helps me stay, err, semi-young to always have to be on my toes."
FBaCC
"I see Kyle's grades from this school are stellar," Flan remarked, looking back at the papers.
"Naturally," Kyle boasted.
"On par with his brother's, in fact, before they began to slip," Flan added.
"What's this? Sigmund the Great is falling behind?" Kyle said, eyes narrowing delightedly.
"Coming from a vizard who iz only sub-par?" Sigmund questioned. "I vill discredit zat statement und erase it from memory."
"Boys!" Poopatine shot. The two fell silent, sulking and folding their arms as they sat on either side of him.
"Your children are pushing their luck Mr…" Flan fished.
"Russ Poopatine, err, Bloodworth-Thomason," Poopatine replied.
"Really? Hmm, how interesting," Professor Flan remarked. "As I was saying, young Kyle's marks certainly are testament to him being readmitted."
"Zurely you cannot be serious," Sigmund said in disbelief. "He iz a talentless vant to be. He iz better off in zis ozher school."
"How dare you!" Kyle shouted.
"I am ze oldest, I am ze most talented, I have ze right to brag," Sigmund answered.
"You have nothing to brag about you has been!" Kyle barked. With that he sprung at Sigmund! Sigmund gasped as Kyle knocked him from the seat, and the two went rolling across the floor. Professor Flan and Janitor Poopatine shot up with gasps.
"Mr. Poopatine!" Flan shouted at Poopatine.
"Sigmund and Kyle Bloodworth-Thomason, here now!" Poopatine shouted furiously, eyes dangerously glittering as he stepped forward to intervene.
Taken aback by the tone, the two froze with gasps and looked over. One look at his seething expression was enough to push them into action, and the two were in front of him in an instant saluting. "Yes sir!" they both chimed. There was the mean and creepy janitor they were accustomed to.
"That's enough out of you two! Is that any way to behave in front of your Professor Flan?" Poopatine shot.
"No father," they both muttered reluctantly.
"What do you say to the good Professor," Poopatine pushed. They were silent. "Boys…" Poopatine growled in a warning tone.
"I apologize, professor, it was terribly rude of us," Kyle remarked.
"As do I, but it vould not have happened if you had not inzulted ze power of Sigmund!" Sigmund declared sharply.
"Oh nuts to you, you no good show off, always trying to make me look bad!" Kyle barked.
"Danke, Kyle, you do not make it hard!" Sigmund thanked with a sneer.
"Boys! Cease and desist this instant or so help me I will ground you two for a month!" Poopatine barked, grabbing a wand from Professor Flan and brandishing it threateningly. They immediately fell silent, eyes big and wide as they looked up at him in disbelief.
"You wouldn't!" they both exclaimed.
"Try me," he warned. The 'brother's' fell silent and muttered another apology to both the professor and their 'father.'
FBaCC
"Mr. Poopatine, get your little rug rats under control! You disrespectful disruptive little pests! Even under a parent's firm hand you two are misbehaved, ungrateful brats! I should kick you both out permanently!" Flan shouted. The boys clung to each other in terror and humiliation at the professor's anger.
"How dare you, you worthless walking dessert!" Poopatine roared, spinning and catching the man with the wand he'd grabbed, lifting him into the air. "I have had just about enough of your biases towards my sons! Don't think for a moment I haven't noticed it! I have tolerated as much as I deemed acceptable, but this takes the cake!" The boys gaped in disbelief at their 'father's' boldness.
"F-Fazher?" Sigmund stammered, eyes wide.
"Boys, get into the Dump Star. We're leaving!" Poopatine ordered. "And as for you, Flan, I expect you to come up with an apology ASAP. You will meet with me and my sons very soon in our home for dinner. There you will give your apology and you will treat me and my boys with respect, though goodness knows they haven't done much to prove themselves worthy of it. Capishe?"
Flan numbly nodded, prying at the invisible grip tightening around his throat, eyes wide in fear, and replied, "I may not come to dinner tomorrow. I don't know when I'll be able to, but be ready at all times. I may drop in unexpectedly. I apologize for everything. Hopefully we can make up when I arrive for supper." Poopatine dropped him, satisfied. "Oh and Sigmund, your host for this exchange is… Why, it's your father. How lucky." They didn't miss the suspicious tone. Poopatine and Sigmund exchanged shocked looks. Sigmund blinked then sighed, looking condescending as always. Oh, his luck just got better and better.
"What!" Kyle exclaimed.
"Well, at least you won't have to pay for room and board," Flan said. "Ta ta, boys, enjoy your stay, Sigmund." He ushered the three out and slammed the door.
"Dazzle you later!" Sigmund numbly called back, shooting Poopatine and Kyle a confused look. Wow things had escalated.
