Carl sighed. He was already bored. It'd been but a day since school re-opened and he was so bored - his father had said things would get exciting soon, surely, but he had his doubts. He sat in the toilet stall, sighing, releasing a giant PHARRRPPPTTT with a relieved sigh.
Carl was being worn by a Slitheen now, don't you forget, and he was desperate for a hunt. He didn't mind his skinsuit, in fact he enjoyed how it felt unlike his father with his own, but he was ravenous to do what they did best... Kill.
He'd killed before, but never a hunt specifically, and Carl - or Korst, as the Slitheen wearing Carl was known as... He was desperate for his first proper hunt. As he pondered this, the final school bell went for the day. As human children rampaged out the gates to go home, Korst wondered if he could hunt any stragglers...
Korst tugged at Carl's neck and grunted, before pushing his fat body out of the toilet room door, entering into an empty hallway, plastered with photographs and pieces of work and information. He loosened his tie slightly and ruffled his dark, normally tidy hair somewhat, before sniffing the air. Using his excellent Slitheen nostrils, he could smell someone! No, not his father nor his uncle, but someone else... Carl couldn't quite detect who it was, only who it wasn't, but came to the conclusion they probably weren't wearing perfume. Their stench was, in fact, quite awful, though clearly and identifiably human in nature. It was coming from a classroom, three halls over. "Right," Korst declared to himself in a hushed manner, "I'm going to go ask daddy if I can hunt this person... Oh gosh, it'll be so fun!" he finished, before farting again with a grin. PhhARRRRPPPTTTTRRRTT!
"DADDY! DADDY!" screeched a spoiled Carl towards his lumbering father, trapped inside the tight skinsuit of Tim Jeffery. "I just want to hunt someone!"
Tim, or rather the Slitheen known as Kist Magg Thek, responded with a sigh. "We don't even know who it is, and quite frankly you should be going home! To those parents. We sent them a call saying you'd be staying for some extra work after school, but we can't be keeping you here all night. We need to be keeping up appearances for a bit!"
Carl grunted, farting and looking ahead with an upset, distasteful snarl. BFRRRPPPTRAPPTT! "Daddy, but it's not FAIR! It's just not! I hate that stupid family. I prefer you, and Uncle Glune Fex Fize!"
Jeffery snapped with a snarl of his own. "Don't you dare, boy! You know what's important! There'll be plenty of time to hunt later, when this stupid planet is frozen over, elsewhere." There was a silence, for a moment. Both Slitheen in human clothing stared at each other, worried they'd hurt each other's feelings by a fair margin. "Look.. I'm sorry for snapping, son. But unless I know who it is, I can't let you go hunting whoever you feel like it."
"You always say that..." Carl mutters, flipping his head to the side to avoid eye contact with his father.
"I know I do but... C'mon, let's go see who the straggler is. In fact, if it's who I think it is... I want you to take care of them!" Jeffery smirked, giggling, with Carl joining in, as they walk off to investigate the mysterious individual lurking around the school.
They turned a corner. A clock went tick. Tick. Tick. Time was passing, fast. Jeffery sniffed the air, walking slowly towards the classroom the currently contained the foul-smelling individual. It was exactly who they thought it was - the caretaker!
"Ah, hello Frank. Sorry to bother you, I was just looking for something." Jeffery declared, after 'accidentally' intruding on the forlorned career caretaker, desperately trying to hide a smirk.
"It's... fine, Tim. I'm just a bit tired. I smell like shit after cleaning up the lunch room. These kids, man. They're just so... dirty and gross." stated Frank quite outright, with a stern gaze to the side, before looking back at Jeffery.
"Hah, I know what you mean..." laughed Jeffery, smirking at a joke only he seemed to understand, before ripping a giant, windy fart. BFRRRPPTTTTttt! "Oof, sorry, that tends to happen after a long day of work... I'll see you tomorrow, Frank, I hope."
"See you too! Be well..." sighed Frank, going back to his work. Jeffery turned his back and smirked, before shutting the door behind him. Approaching his son, he patted him on the back, and went to the secret control room to turn off the nearby cameras and delete any recent footage, so as to not incriminate anyone...
Boof. Boof. Boof. The sound of shiny school shoes fell onto flat ground as the fat, gross child of the Slitheen approached the classroom. He opened the door with a creak, sliding inside and shutting it behind it, hearing it click as his father presumably locked it from the control room. Frank had headphones on, with music blaring to the point of bleeding out of the headphones. It took a loud cough from Carl to produce a reaction from the caretaker, removing his headphones from his ears and hanging them around his neck.
"Hello there, sonny. Can I help you with anything?" inquired Frank, tired but still willing to help someone if they needed it.
Carl farted. PRRRRrrrrARRRPPTPTTTTT! It was giant, and loud, and smelled of calcium decay with a whiff of an electronic tinge. He grinned, saying nothing to the old man in front of him, who simply looked on curious and confused. Carl stepped forward one foot. "Now he's concerned and afraid," Carl thought to himself, "I can smell the sweat and fear. It's delicious... I can't wait to hunt him. This wonderful Raxicoricofallapatorian ritual shall be committed!" He giggled out loud with glee, as Frank started to sweat, tripping over his mop bucket, spilling the foul, dirty water all over the floor. Frank glanced over at it but for a moment, before forcing his glare over the to strange boy approaching him with a sense of tenacity. He was panting, now. He clambered up, and shouted at the child.
"What are you doing, boy? This isn't funny! You should be at home or something, kiddo! C'mon!" shouted Frank, afraid and alone. He was panicking, and he was considering getting help. He assumed Carl was mentally unwell, before thrusting those thoughts out of his mind as inconsiderate to whatever was happening what he assumed was a "poor, disturbed kid". He didn't want to aggrivate Carl, but before he could say anything else, Carl opened his mouth...
And roared. He roared as loudly and fiercely as his human vocal chords permitted a Slitheen to roar. Farting all the while, he finally spoke. "Hahah, you silly old man. I'm going to show you the meaning of true fear, in the form of the glorious Slitheen family!" PhhFRRRrrrttt BFRRAPPT phhARRZEEE...
Carl refused to speak, despite the caretaker shouted and begging him to say something as he backed against the wall. The child brushed aside his hair, as a previously invsible flap of skin appeared and was lifted up, revealing an also unnoticeable zip, prominently placed inside of his forehead. As if things couldn't get any more confusing for the old man, the boy then laughed, his chubby cheeks and fat body shaking and jiggling as he lifted his arms to his forehead, his face going into an almost stoic, proud face of pleasure as he started to unzip his forehead, flooding the room with an electric-blue light that forced the old caretaker to adjust his eyes. The zip seemed to be quite a tight one - the child was taking a while to get it all the way across, as his face only got more and more white, whilst his eyes rolled back and his grind got so wide you could swear it was going to fall off his face. When he had finally pushed the zip as far as it would go, he growled, pushing his human scalp back as it folded back like the hood on a hoodie. Using the two human arms, he started to pull his face down, squashing it against itself, leaving his features creased and crumpled together as it went further and further down, leaving a green head with two big, black eyes and a set of chubby cheeks accompanying a sharp array of teeth and a tiny snout in it's wake. The head and neck crawled their way out of the skin, roaring and grunting as it did so, before the face reached the elbows and started to stretch out further and further, wider and wider. The human face of Carl was now stretched to the width between two shoulders on the average person, as he continued to struggle to push it further down. He gloated with delight that he could take this long enjoying the unmasking process - a Slitheen can detect fear and determine how long to enjoy the proccess of unmasking before simply dropping their disguise fully and starting the hunt based on the level of fright their opponent is currently feeling. Eventually, two big, green arms with large, slim, boney protrusions emerged from the suit, as the alien creature pushed the suit down to his waist, before shimmying and letting it flop to the floor. The blue light that had been flooding the room eventually subsided, with the Slitheen casually taking both of it's stubby feet out of the suit and kicking it to the side.
"What... the HELL.. ARE you...?!" yelled Frank, backed against a corner. Korst, the Slitheen, slowly approached him.
"Me? Oh, I'm a child of the Slitheen family! Far better than your stupid children, so immature and foul. I'm already prepared to do what I must do for my family. I do things your kids wouldn't dare. I am proud to be a member of the superior species!" gloated Korst, laughing a chirlish laugh that he continued as he slowly walked towards his prey. "And I've been hunting you all night. It's been so fun... Sniffing you out, getting my daddy to decieve you, thinking you could even be helped... Oh gosh, it's been so FUN!"
Before Frank could even react, Korst raised his claw to strike and kill the poor man.
"Goodbye, pathetic human! Now you can't bother us any more!" Korst snarled.
A moment. Fleeting. It lasted but a moment, as when Korst started to swipe down to strike at the man, he lay there, still. His scent started to change. His heartbeat had stopped.
He'd had a heart attack.
Korst reeled back, almost furious at the man for depriving him of a satisfying claw kill. He stormed out of the room, grabbing his skinsuit of the floor in a huff, hucking it over his little green, slimy shoulder and carrying it to the control room to meet up with his father and uncle to explain what happened, and what to do.
His thirst for a hunt had not yet been sated.