Hello, everyone. Sorry I haven't been doing much regarding fanfiction as of recently. School personal projects have mainly been getting in the way, but I've decided to come back, having read some fanfics and having rewatched Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends for the first time in a while.
Looking at the fanfics in particular, I noticed that some people viewed Bloo as a selfish prick of a character, and as the series progressed, I could see why some viewers would come to this conclusion.
Having done this, I got some inspiration and decided to pursue my own take on the subject. Hope y'all enjoy. :)
FYI: isolated italicized sentences outside of ANs are thoughts.
Bloo wasn't one too take too fondly of being engaged by confrontation, but today, to his annoyance, was one of those days. Standing in front of him was a visibly angered Mr. Herriman, whose patience was quickly dwindling. "Would you mind explaining yourself, Master Blooregard??" he yelled.
"Mr. Herriman, for the last time, it was an accident!" Bloo whined. "It didn't want it to hit him. It was supposed to...you know..."
"Supposed to what??" the rabbit pressed.
"Supposed to...well...give him a bit of a scare, that's all—"
"You call dropping the chandelier on top of Master Mac a little scare??" Herriman scolded, attempting to hide how bewildered he was.
The two of them, alongside Frankie and a few other imaginary friends, were at the hospital. It was supposed to be an otherwise normal day; Mac had arrived at Foster's precisely at 3 pm, as he usually did, and Bloo, as usual, attempted to pull some hijinks on his unsuspecting creator. After that, Mac and Bloo would goof off, maybe they'd say hello to Wilt or Eduardo, Mac would leave around 7 or 8 pm, Bloo would attend dinner, head to bed, go to sleep, orchestrate the next genius plan, rinse and repeat. That is, all that would happen after the current day's plan was executed, and as fate would have it, things didn't quite go according to that plan.
As a result, here he was, in a hallway outside of some doctor's office, being told off by the familiar face of the Foster's Home housekeeper.
"It was an accident!" Bloo objected. "I wasn't trying 'ta hurt him! It just...happened off-queue! If you want, I can fix the chandelier when we—"
"The chandelier is a separate and insignificant matter compared to the predicament you have placed Master Mac in," Herriman interrupted. "And the predicament Master Mac has been placed in is one of serious concern!"
"Calm down, will ya?" Bloo waived. "He'll be fine. Trust me."
"T-T-Trust you? Why would I even consider—??"
"You two!" hollared a then-unknown voice. The two turned, revealing the voice to have come from the doctor whose office they were beside. "Can you keep it down? I'm trying to explain the details of the injury of the patient."
Mr. Herriman, always one to prioritize politeness first and in spite of the massive amount of irritation built up against the blue blob he was up-until-then telling off, took a deep breath and nodded to the doctor's request. Bloo rolled his eyes. I'm doing so, he barely caught a glimpse of Frankie, also inside the office. Turns out that Herriman wasn't the only one that had been glaring at him.
The doctor, a blonde lady a bit taller and certainly older than the junior Foster, shut the door to continue her hitherto silent discussion.
Once Frankie was paying attention to the doctor again, Bloo didn't hesitate to glare back at her out of spite before the rabbit cleared his throat to grab his attention.
"Master Blooregard," Mr. Herriman — still stern, slightlu irate, but less audible — started, "you have been living at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends for several years now, and having done so, you should have been at the very least acutely aware of the various rules we have in place to keep things organized, clean, and, for lack of a better term, safe."
"Yeah, yeah." Bloo heard the spiel a million times by now.
"Some of these rules are reinforced and referenced in multiple instances during the day and throughout the household. Others should be obvious enough as to where they shouldn't need to warrant reminding."
"Right..." Yaawwwwwn.
"What I cannot fathom is how you are allowed to consistently ignore and/or break most, of not all, of the rules despite the longevity of your residence with us."
"Uhhhh huhhhh..."
"Your actions today," the rabbit raised his voice slightly, "however, have gone far beyond anything that could be considered acceptable at our establishment."
"Okay, okay. What punishment am I getting this time?" Bloo sighed. Better not be the dishes or laundry.
"No no." Mr. Herriman waved his finger. "You won't be receiving a punishment, Master Blooregard. In fact...if events proceed in a reasonable fashion, I don't believe you should be receiving much of anything from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends after what has transpired today."
...What? That was unexpected. He was being let off scot-free? "You mean I don't get punished?" Bloo asked, now legitimately curious. "I'm off the hook?"
"In more ways than one, you could say." Mr. Herriman rose an eyebrow. Something was up.
"Riiiiggghhht..." Bloo said.
...
No response. Mr. Herriman was patiently waiting, presumably for the doctor's meeting with Frankie to finish. All the sounds that were left were the soft buzzing of the fluorescent lights above, the gentle humming of the building's air conditioning, and the tick-tock of a quartz wall clock casually ticking and ticking away the seconds, almost like it was taunting him.
It was so annoying...
Bloo started pacing around the room.
Why did Mac have to be a few inches away from where he was supposed to be standing? You didn't have to take five steps instead of four!
I swear, whoever's responsible for dropping that chandelier too late is gonna get it when I get home. Red better have a good excuse for — wait, or it was it Scissors? Cheese? ...Whatever! They're gonna pay for screwing all this up!
Is it really that hard to count four steps?? It's literally four — one two three four! Is that why all those stupid kid's shows only count up to three? Why it always takes three hits to kill the boss in every video game? C'mon guys! It's the number four! What's wrong with four?? People literally have five fingers on each hand, anyway! It's simple! One, two—
"Oof!" He bumped into Frankie. Nice one. "Uh...hi! How...How'd the thing go?"
She looked quite annoyed. Not as angry as earlier or as terrified as before that — when they were on transit toward the hospital — but clearly ruffled, if not exhausted.
Frankie, however, first turned her attention to Mr. Herriman, to whom she passed about a dozen pieces of paper. "She says it'll cost about nine grand upfront." she said. "It would cost much less for us if we had Mac's mom's insurance, but he hasn't given us her new number yet, so we'll have to deal with it."
"No need to worry, Miss Frances." the butler said. "We have funds set aside in the budget for this very reason for a reason."
Blah blah blah, taxes, blah blah blah, whatever. Cmonnn! When can me 'n Mac go home yet?
"Bloo?" Frankie said aloud.
"Wha—? What do you want?" he responded.
Frankie muffled a sigh before continuing. "I...I can't even begin to say how disappointed I am with what you — "
Good grief, not this again! We've already gone over it!
"You're lucky Mac isn't in a worse condition. Your lucky your little stunt didn't cause any permanent brain damage or anything like that!"
"That means he's fine, right? We get to leave go home?" Bloo asked, slightly excited for the prospect that maybe — finally — they'd leave this beige rectangle they found themselves in.
"Mac needs to stay here overnight to recover. I...I don't, wha —?" Frankie pulled. "The fact he isn't worse off doesn't matter, Bloo! Don't you feel even the tiniest bit of remorse??"
"Uh...what does 'remorse' mean, again?" Bloo dragged out his question. "It's not exactly in my vocabulary."
"Bloo — ! Y—I" by now, Frankie seemed to have blown a fuse. What's her problem? What did I do wrong?? "I know you're dumb, but you're usually not this dumb!"
Bloo dramatically gasped. "Fuh-Rankie! I'm offended!"
"Well, you should be! You sent Mac to the hospital! How does that not register in your head as something wrong??"
"I mean, Mac always comes here every month or so..." Bloo pondered. "Though, that being said, he's never had to stay the night before..."
Frankie, quite frankly done with Bloo's ignorant antics, swallowed her pride. "We're leaving. Go to the bus." she said. She headed toward the waiting room — where a few other imaginary friends were waiting —down the hall and away from the office she had just exited from. Bloo was following in pursuit, when he and Frankie were stopped in their tracks.
"Hup hup hup!" Mr. Herriman ordered. "Excuse me, Miss Frances, but before you act so hastily, I would like to quickly inform that there is no need for you to escort Mister Blooregard to the vehicle."
Bloo's eyes widened. Isn't he supposed to say Master Blooregard?
Frankie, too, was somewhat confused. "Um...what do you mean? We'll deal with him when we get home."
"A-Actually," Bloo chimed in. "For your info, Mr. Herriman said I don't get a punishment for what I did."
"Wha-? Mr. Herriman, what's he talking about?" Frankie demanded.
"Oh! Pardon the miscommunication on my part, Miss Frances." Herriman adjusted the bow tie on his jacket before proceeding. "It's just that Mister Blooregard here neglected to mention what I said after telling him that no punishment was to be imposed on him."
"Uh...what else did you say, again?" Bloo asked.
"If my memory serves me correctly, then I told Mister Blooregard that if events today proceed in a more reasonable fashion, I don't believe he should be receiving much of anything from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends."
This time, it was Frankie's eyes that widened with what the rabbit had said. In fact, she looked somewhat shocked. "M-Mr. Herriman, I think we can agree that what Bloo did wasn't at all good, but th-there shouldn't be a need for such drastic measures, surely —"
What are they on about?
"No!" Herriman raised his voice. "Mister Blooregard's dangerous and, frankly, egregious actions today have proven themselves to be unforgivable — nay, irreconcilable. There is nothing you can say to change my mind."
"I mean...come on! He doesn't do these sort of things all the time..." Frankie was nervously twirling her fingers. She was clearly trying to find reasons to defend Bloo — a complete reversal of her earlier attitude. "He helps out around the house! A-And he uh..."
"Yeah! What she's saying!" Bloo said. Whatever it is she's saying. Whatever the reason is she's saying it.
"No excuses, Miss Frances. You know the rules, procedures, and Code of Conduct." Herriman said.
Frankie sighed in defeat. Bloo looked on in angst. "Wh-What's going on, exactly?" he said.
"When he said you won't be getting anything from us, Bloo," Frankie explained before sighing again, "...he means you won't be getting anything."
That last 'anything' delivered the message loud and clear. Bloo could feel his insides twisting up, but on the outside he did his best to maintain his composure. "By anything..." he started, "you mean —"
"Food, laundry, bedding, cleaning," Herriman listed. "Storage, ...
Hospitality," he emphasized.
Bloo, still processing things, replied, "Wait... So that means —"
"You'll have to find another foster home for imaginary friends to keep your residence from now on, Mister Blooregard." Me. Herriman said. "We simply cannot allow any behavior in the household that could potentially prove fatal for any of our guests, colleagues, or, in your case," he raised a finger up. "Master Mac."
"Oh come on!" Bloo objected. "That's not fair! I've done a lot of good for the house! I—"
"For the last time, no buts." Herriman stood firm. "Mister Blooregard is not to reside at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends effective immediately. I will be sure that this declaration be put to paper as soon as we arrive home."
The rabbit turned around, motioinf toward the exit to the waiting room. "Now then, off we go." He then hopped off to the doors, exiting the hallway.
Bloo just stood there, dumbfounded. Kicked out of Foster's... B-But all my stuff is at Foster's! All my friends! What do I—
He paused for a brief moment. Frankie was also headed out. "Frankie!" he called, briefly catching her attention. "Can you please please pleeeaaase help me out here?"
"I'm sorry, Bloo, but I can't really do that right now." Frankie said. "I could try 'n talk some more sense into him later, but...for now...you're going to have to sleep somewhere else."
"Aw man!" Bloo complained.
"And don't count on it being for one night, either." she admitted. "Sure, I think he's being overly harsh, but he does has a point. You really hurt Mac really badly today, and, to be honest, we can't really let things like that slide. Don't say I didn't try to help you out, though." With that, the redheaded caretaker left Bloo alone as she, too, exited out the waiting room doors.
Bloo, still somewhat struggling to grasp the repercussions of the situation, rushed to catch up with her. As they passed through the waiting room, the usual accomplices of Wilt, Eduardo, and Coco, who had been presumably waiting for the doctor's meeting to finish, took notice of the tension in the air and stood up to follow along.
"W-Wait!" Bloo said. "I know you know that Herriman's being ridiculous—"
"Not more than usual." Frankie deflected.
"Uh, Frankie?" Wilt interjected. "From the looks, you seem to be in a bit of a rush. Has...something gone wrong?"
"Es señor Mac okay?" Eduardo concerningly asked.
"Cocococo cococococo?" Coco added.
"Jeez guys, relax! He's fiiiiiiiine!" Bloo dragged out.
"So, why're we leaving then? Aren't we allowed to see him then?" Wilt said.
"The doctor" Frankie emphasized, prompting Bloo to roll his eyes. "said that Mac needs some time to rest given his conditions—"
"See, Bloo?" Wilt turned to scold the by now done with this whole thing imaginary friend. "We told you it was a bad idea, but you didn't listen!"
"Hm, correct me if I'm wrong," Bloo responded with a sarcastic tone of voice, "but I don't remember you guys pushing all that hard in opposition to what I was doing."
"We did, though!" Wilt said.
"Hah! Apparently you asking, 'You sure this'll end well?', me saying 'Yep.', and you saying, 'Okay then.' counts as strong opposition!" Bloo accused.
"You're being ridiculous, Azul!" Eduardo further complained. "Even if we didn't do good to warn you, someone else did!"
"Exactly!" Wilt then turned back to Frankie. "Is he going to turn out alright? When'll he be released?"
"I'll tell you about it in detail on the bus," Frankie said, "but the doctor says he should be much better by tomorrow morning at the latest — maybe even a few hours from now if they're lucky. Regardless, they'll give us a call when we're allowed to come over."
"See?" Bloo spat out. "I did he was fine, but nobody here's believin' me!"
"Coco co cocococococococo." Coco added.
"Yeah! Coco has a point!" Wilt said. "Even if he makes it out alright, what you did wasn't very nice! What do you think Mac'll say to you once we can visit him?"
"Oh, you know, he'll be whiny for a few minutes..." Bloo casually described, "he'll probably gimme the silent treatment for a bit, he'll get over it, and we'll be back to normal. That's what usually happens. Why's this any different?"
As the group arrived at the exit to the hospital and headed toward the car park, where the bus was waiting near the curb, the imaginary friends took Bloo's comment with a mix of confusion and concern.
"Jeez...That's kind of a cynical way to put it." Wilt spoke.
"What's so cynical about it?" Bloo asked. "Wh-What does cynical even mean, anyway?"
Upon arriving at the bus, the group was greeted by Mr. Herriman, and they all started boarding one-by-one. First Frankie, followed by Wilt, then Eduardo, then Coco, then—
"Oof!" Bloo was stopped from getting on. Herriman has blocked the way with his arm, and before Bloo could protest, he entered the vehicle. "And transportation!" the butler said as he took his seat.
The bus doors closed as the imaginary friends now looked on with more confusion. The bus itself soon drove away, leaving Bloo alone on the pavement.
Bloo stood there for a few seconds, eventually remembering Herriman's de-facto punishment from earlier. With a twitching eye and a lot of built up spite, he shouted, "Fine! 'Ts not like I needed you guys anyway!" He angrily stomped away from the parking lot, not bothering to continue starring at the bus that had now started fading into the distance.
Stupid Herriman! Stupid Frankie! Stupid everything!
They'll see! They'll all see! They'll all be crawling back to me before they know it!
And once they do, they're gonna real sorry those—
CRASH!
"Ow! What the—?" Bloo said. He had run into something. Redirecting his focus away from his anger, he realized he had run into some sliding glass doors.
The ones from the hospital. He had walked back to the hospital from the parking lot. Wha—? What're my feet doing dragging me back here?
Unless...
DING! A-ha!
The group would presumably be returning here sometime after a few hours and/or the start of tomorrow when Mac was awake and able to be visited. Bloo reckoned that by then the members of the group would have learned their mistakes of leaving him behind and accusing him of doing anything wrong.
Like with everything. They always like to accuse me of everything, don't they?
No matter! I'll be here waiting for them with the biggest smile I can put on! This is gonna be fun!
Now i just need to find something to do in the meantime...
Bloo learned a few things from being left to his own devices in a hospital without company.
One, it's boring. Really really boring. No video games, no Internet, nothing! The only things even close to entertainment were a batch of medical magazines and tabloids or a bunch of TVs all set to the same boring channel that was broadcasting some documentary nobody cared about. He even tried to ask the various receptionists from the different waiting rooms he visited if they could change the channels only to be turned down and be left subsequently disappointed.
Two, bring money. You'll be needing it to pay for things like food, which became more of a concern as the hours dragged on and Bloo's stomach started to growl. Then again, there wasn't much in terms of full meals in the hospital — mainly just snack machines with chips and a coffee shop that sold some croissants, bagels, and other boring bread foods. There wasn't even any candy here! What a ripoff!
Third, whoever built this place must've been miserable because, with not much else left to pique Bloo's limited attention, he had focused on the details of the building he was located in. It looked and felt sooooo boooorrrring! So much so that one could swear it was intentional! The go-to colors for the walls and floor were beige and dull, respectively. The color palette as a whole was either muted or shades of grey. So lifeless, sheesh! Would it be so much to ask for an ounce of livelihood around here?
Situated in the same waiting room from earlier, not to far away from where Wilt, Eduardo, and Coco had seated themselves, Bloo lazily took a look at a clock hanging on the wall. He hasn't really bothered to check the time at all during this, erm, "visit".
The time was 8:30 pm. Pretty obvious that Bloo had lost track of the time during this whole debacle and aftermath, though it wasn't like he had done much to care about it in the first place. What time did they arrive here, again?
His stomach continued growling, the lights continued buzzing, the receptionists continued typing, and the seconds continued counting. Slowly, but surely, Bloo's boredom continued growing and his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until finally he descended into a peaceful, albeit somewhat disappointed, slumber...
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Unh...
Ugh...
Rrrrriiise 'n shine...I guess.
Bloo's night seems to have been dreamless. Then again, imaginary friends didn't typically have dreams, so this wasn't all that remarkable. He opened his eyes slightly, but still feeling somewhat tired, he closed then again so he could lay down and relax for just a little bit longer.
He stretched out his arms, groaning, as he started to lay back down in a more comfortable position. It was during this action, specifically when one of his stubs brushed against the floor, that something didn't seem quite right.
That didn't feel like the waiting room bench. That felt like...stone?
He opened his eyes again, rubbing them for clarity, and scanned the perimeter. It confirmed that he, indeed, was no longer in the hospital waiting room.
He appeared to be in some sort of dimly-lit stone corridor, with streaks of faint oranges oozing down the walls like veins. This room felt somewhat warm compared to the perfectly mediocre air conditioned waiting room temperature that he fell asleep to.
He picked himself up off the ground as he continued to process this new environment, though one question dominated his mind as he finally started to feel his arms and feet again.
"Where am I?"
And thus begins Bloo's Great Adventure in the Underworld, and thus ends this introductory chapter.
Hope you all enjoyed what you read/saw. Please make sure to review favorite this story. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you all.