A Different Point of View
by Randall Boggs


JOY'S FOREWARD: I just had to stop writing my third fic - Spy Game - for a little while to let Randall do this. Don't worry everyone, I'll get around to putting the next chapter of SG up eventually. But after hanging out on the Boggs' Board and discussing so many things about Randall, I thought I needed to let ya'll in on his story. The movie is basically seen from Sulley and Mike's point of view. . .totally shadowing out Randall's part in all of this and casting him as simply a "hard core villian" - all without giving him any say (or explaination) in the matter.

So, why do so many fans love Randall? Perhaps it's because he's "real". Randall probably hasn't lived some 'happily ever after' fairy tale life. No human has. So, I think people can relate to him in one way or another - some people more than others. He's not the villian alot of people say he is. And this story might help explain why. You can form your own opinions about whether you agree with me on any of this or not. It makes sense for the large part. But, at the very least, his story must be told. From here on Randall will take over, but I just had to include this for you.

Oh yeah! How silly of me. . .Randall Boggs, Monsters Inc, and everything pertaining to the movie that's not mine is copyrighted to Disney/PIXAR. Yeah, that includes the leaves on the trees too.

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Author's Word

You've seen Monsters Inc, right? Yeah. . .so have I - in fact, I was very much a part of it. For those of you who don't know, I'm the "purple, lizard thing" - preferrably named "Randall". Though, I'm assuming, most of you humans are intelligent enough to put two and two together. As for the rest of you, I can't help ya - go buy a VCR and rent the movie. Or, on second thought, why don't you just read my story? Yeah, you heard right. MY story.

What's that you say? Ya haven't heard it? That's probably cuz the directors at PIXAR thought you didn't NEED to know. Yeah. They didn't think you needed any 'clueing-in' to my side of the story (if they actually thought I had "a side"). Frankly, it seems, they didn't care to hear it either. So, I've decided - since they're not going to give me so much a good word - I'll do the hard work of explaining everything myself. All I can do is hope you'll read it, since paying for TV advertisement or even a stinkin' commercial is beyond my financial abilities.

Anyhow, here's my story - I hope you enjoy hearing from a different point of view. . .Yeah, and it would be cool if you reviewed my story and let me know what ya think of it so far.

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Chapter One - Forever Second-best?

For me, everything REALLY started on a summer morning, waaay before the movie. Probably somewhere around twenty years, if you really want to know the specifics. But I suppose that would take me way too long to explain and, typing properly with only three fingers on each hand, is more difficult than you might think. So, I'll just clue you in on past events here and there as we go along. Just keep up with me and it'll all come together. I'm basically letting the keys type for me as I go. In fact, I remember everything as if it had just happened yesterday. . .unfortunately for me.

It was morning of the same day the movie began (which was, like, only a day before my life was thrown into further chaos). I was in my room, trying to get some shuteye. Cuz, frankly, I was tired enough to sleep on just about anything - especially if it was warm and soft. Yesterday, we taped the new MI commercial. Not like I was too thrilled about that. Normally, I'd love to have a chance to be in the spotlight (for once), but I just plain wasn't feeling too good. I didn't want to do it. I TOLD Waternoose how I was feeling and that I didn't want to do it. He made me do it anyways. Doesn't it just figure? At least that's over with. Another reason was that the night before I had been up late working on a little contraption I call "The Scream Extractor", as I had done night after night before.

The darned thing had taken a big chunk out of my life (not much less than a month of it) ever since I agreed to build it for my boss, Mr. Waternoose. Yup. It was his idea, contrary to popular belief. Supposedly, he needed a machine to remedy the so-called crisis of his, so he called on me to oversee and do the actual construction and design of the Scream Extractor (or SE, as I like to call it). But I'll explain more about that later, I'm drifting off too far (I can just see my English teachers reading this, disgusted at how sloppy my storytelling is).

Anyhow, back to scene one. I was in bed, debating with myself whether to get up early to go work on that stupid machine again or sleep in. That was an easy choice. I opted for my bed. But then my better judgement bumped in and told me otherwise (doncha just hate it when that happens?). I knew if I didn't get the SE done on the deadline, I'd be a dead lizard. Or, to be more precise, I'd probably be fired. And, with the city in such an energy crisis, I'm sure finding a good job would be slim pickings, to say the least. So, I really couldn't afford the lay-off. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Finally, after a few minutes of grumbling, I. . .went back to sleep. Stubborn - yes. Stupid - no. I convinced my better judgement to shut up and give me some sleep already. *laughs* No, just kiddin'. Actually, I convinced myself I could work in some extra hours around lunchtime and later that night. I needed sleep and that was pretty much over-riding anything else I had on my schedule at the time. I mean, c'mon. . .I was dead-beat tired, man!

But things have a way of changing, as they say. That they did. Just as I began to drift-off again, this loud, annoying noise rang in my ear. And, oh wonder-of-wonders, it was Fungus. The guy really doesn't know the meaning of "leave me alone" yet. Though, I swear, he's read every book and dictionary in the tri-county area. I suppose cramming all of that in his brain short-circuited his memory or something. Don't ask me. I'm just glad I'm not him.

"Come on Randall!" he urged me, pulling the covers off my body - and my bed. "We need to get to work on the Scream Extractor! Not to mention conducting the daily warm-up routines!"

Oh goody.

"Just leave me alone, okay Fungus?" I replied, trying to sound exactly how I felt. In a last ditch effort to block him out, I stuffed the pillow over my head.

"But we have so much to do today!" Fungus jabbered on. He was so annoyingly cheery, it made me wish I hadn't told him my address.

I took the pillow off my head and stared at him - hard. "What time is it?" I asked pointedly, hoping he'd get a clue.

"About five in the morning," Fungus said as if it were normal, which (lately) it kinda was. "We can collect scream canisters, build the machine, practice scare techniques, fill out paperwork. . ." He went on and on.

Listening to those words made me feel sick to my stomach. I was tired of early work hours. I was tired of the stupid Scream Extractor. I was tired of my boss. I was tired of being tired. And, most of all, I was tired of Fungus. Cheerful, wasn't I? Well, when you go through what I did, you're not exactly acting like Mr. Sunshine - I can tell you that much.

Before I could say anything, Fungus pulled my bedroom shade open with a snap and nearly blinded me. That was just enough to make me get out of bed. No way could I sleep with him in the house. I hoped to kick Fungus' behind for such a rude wake-up call, but he left the room before I had the chance. So, having nothing else to do, I sighed deeply and picked my crumpled bed covers up off the floor. I sloppily made my bed (yeah, sorry Mom) and made it into the kitchen, on the hunt for breakfast. If I wasn't getting sleep, at least I could get breakfast.

I rummaged through the cupboards for a few minutes (yup, Fungus was still jabbering on) and settled on a couple donuts and a glass of orange slime. Hey, if I was going to choke down donuts for breakfast, the least I could do is get something healthy to drink. I was gonna need the lift. After several days of eating donuts, I found out you get really feel dragged-down by the end of the day. Fungus suggested I drink slime. Well, at least he's good for something.

I took a quick glance at the wall clock and saw it was already five-twenty. I didn't want to go to work, but I dragged myself out the door all the same. I mean, I love my work and all - don't get me wrong - but the extra hours were really weighing me down. Once we got to Monsters Inc, I shoved the door open. It whacked Fungus in the face. I didn't really mean to do that. I, actually, kinda. . .forgot he was there. Heh heh.

Anyhow, I continued on my way past the receptionist's desk. Ceila was standing there, flirting with Wazowski in the mushiest way possible. I saw it and thought I'd puke (even Sullivan kinda looked like he thought it was stupid). Googley Bear? Schmootsy Poo? What kind of stupid names are those? Anyways, I kept going. I wasn't in the mood to talk to them. In fact, I'm NEVER in the mood to talk with them. Hey, distance is a good thing when it comes to your rivals.

I headed towards the locker room (mens', mind you). Fungus followed me like a jelly bean-shaped shadow. I told him to bug off. He did (thank goodness). So, I finally had some time alone as I approached my locker. I pulled out a can of "Condensed Fog" and plopped down on one of the benches. I like to spray it on my fronds before I begin scaring. It sticks for awhile and keeps my body cool for about fifteen minutes as I work. Reptillian thing, I guess. I sprayed it on my fronds and stopped suddenly to listen. I could hear voices coming from the aisle next to me. Didn't take me long to deduct who it was. . .

"Ya know pal," Wazowski was saying. "She's the one. That's it. She. Is. The. ONE!"

"I'm happy for ya," Sullivan replied, then sprayed something from a can.

"Oh, and uh, thanks for hooking me up with those reservations," Wazowski added.

"Oh, no problem," Sullivan replied, suddenly turning to a joking tone. "It's under the name 'Googley Bear'."

I smirked to myself, seeing an opportunity for a grade A scare on Wazowski. After all, a little practical joke couldn't hurt, could it? I quickly vanished from sight and slithered soundlessly to the over-sized olive's locker. This was really going to be fun. I waited for just the right moment. . .

"Oh good ide-" Wazowski paused, looking at Sullivan in an unamused fashion. "Y'know. . .that wasn't funny."

He's not amused by anyone else's jokes but his, it seems.

Suddenly, I slammed his locker shut, hoping to add some mystique to my grand entrance. Wazowski turned to it, gasping a bit. He blinked for a moment and opened it. I slammed it shut again and Wazowski squinted at the "ghost door" in utter confusion.

I suddenly materialized. "Wazowski!"

He screamed, jumped about ten feet in the air, and landed on his back. He was so shocked that he scooted himself as far away as he could from me. I'd say that was one of the best scares I did since yesterday. I couldn't help but chuckle a bit as I watched him. Sullivan didn't say anything, just looked at me in disgust. Makes you feel like you've robbed a bank or something. I just ignored the look he was giving me and glanced at Wazowski in silent amusement.

"Well, whaddya know?" I said, calmly clasping my hands behind my back and smiling. "It scares little kids AND little monsters. . ."

He suddenly turned defiant. "I wasn't scared!" he retorted (or lied - your choice). "I have. . uh. . .allergies." Then he faked a couple of coughs.

"Uh huh. Sure," I replied. Did I really look that stupid to him? If you ask me, he probably could have come up with a better excuse than that.

Sullivan frowned, then finally began defending his buddy (as always). "Hey, Randall. Save it for the Scarefloor will ya?"

Yup, that was it. Not quite the motivational speaker, but what can I say? He used to be the company janitor. I guess you don't get to practice too many speeches while you're polishing the tile, eh? Anyways, I lept up onto the bench and stretched my long, snake-like body, taking a karate stance. I couldn't help but boast a bit, it was in my nature.

I mean, after all, Waternoose DID promise me I'd become a high-ranking executive once I helped drag his company out of this energy crisis (with the SE, of course). So, that thought really boosted my confidence. . .plus I've been doing a ton of practicing. I was almost positive I wouldn't have to eat my words later on.

"I'm in the zone today, Sullivan," I told him, doing some lightning-fast moves. "Gonna be doing some serious scaring. . .Putting up some big numbers!"

Wazowski was unimpressed - as usual. "Wow, that's great Randall. . ." he muttered boredly, as if he were mocking me for even HAVING that thought. "Then it'll be reeeally embarrassing. . .once we break the record first! Ha ha!"

I was peeved - REALLY peeved. I might hate to say this - if I didn't hate Wazowski so much - but he's the biggest bragger this side of Monstropolis. Everyone thinks I'M the only one with that problem, but just look at him. He just THRIVES on rubbing Sullivan's success in my face, no matter how much it hurts my feelings. And that was a nasty blow to my already-lacking self-esteem. Normally, you see, I never let anyone know when they've hurt my feelings - not since high school anyway - so I simply set my jaw and lept down from the bench. I slithered over beside Wazowski.

"Shh, shh, shhh. . ." I hissed, pausing. "Ya hear that? It's the winds of change. . ."

I gave him an exaggerated grin and turned away, letting my expression fall only as I walked off towards the Scarefloor. Sometimes, it seems, they neglect to even acknowledge the fact that I have feelings at all. Maybe I should get used to it. I've been treated this way since grade school. Since my parents died (I was really young then), things just got progressively worse in my life. I don't think I'll ever get used to this. Besides. . .who could?

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"Okay people, eastern seaboard - coming online," Jerry - the head floor manager - announced over the loudspeakers.

I could hear him from the Scarer's port (or whetever ya wanna call it), even with the door closed. I stretched out my legs one-by-one, getting ready for the warm-up. I could hear some of the Scarers chatting and laughing nearby. I glanced in their direction and saw Sulley grinning. He was telling them some undoubtedly fake story about how he miraculously made it to the top within weeks. At least I WORKED for my position.

Word on the street is that Waternoose took favor upon Sullivan (oh yeah, bet you all couldn't guess THAT from watching the movie) and promoted him. He says the guy has talent, but I doubt he has THAT much talent (he was promoted from janitor to elite scarer in one year). For one, I've been working at MI years before Sullivan ever came along - and working hard at that. But does anyone pay any attention to me? No way.

"We've got Scarers coming out," Jerry continued over the loudspeakers.

I was ready.

The door came up and we all walked out, stopping at our respective scare stations. Isn't it ironic that Sullivan's station is right next to mine? It's like some kind of freaky set-up. All around me, monsters were putting in fake teeth, practicing, and all sorts of other stuff. Fungus pulled down backdrops for me to practice against. I changed color to match them in no time flat. It was an exercise I did every morning to keep me in peak scaring condition.

Once I was finished, I felt pumped up and ready to kick Sullivan's behind. I got in position. Now, all I had to do was wait for the starting bell and work my tail off. If I could keep a good rhythm going, I knew I'd be able to beat the All-Time Scare Record before Sullivan did. Fungus did the math and confirmed that as a fact - another thing I find quite useful in him. I was in scare mode, ready to leap into action, when Sullivan suddenly approached me.

I was tempted to ask him to bug off, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Hey," he said, holding out a hand to me. "May the best monster win."

Riiiight. I wasn't really sure if he meant it or not. He obviously wanted me to shake on it and make amends. But I looked at his hand suspiciously for a moment and thought better of it. I'm not about to trust him just because he turns all 'nice-guy' on me. In fact, that was the first time he ever said something nice to me. I figured it was probably because he thought he could beat me anyways. I simply turned my attention back to the door in front of me.

"I plan to," I replied, not in the mood to mess around.

"We are on in seven, six, five, four, three, two. . .one!" Jerry counted down, the starting bell ringing immediately afterwards.

All of the Scarers lept into action, including me. Screams of children and Scarers roaring, growling, and making the scariest noises they could filled the room. I quickly slithered onto the door frame and peeked inside, before leaping inside and scaring the child. Six-year-old. Easy stuff. I continued the cycle, scaring one kid after another. By now, I was getting a pretty smooth rhythm going. I stopped for a moment in the middle of my work to look up at the tally board. Same old, same old.

Sullivan's numbers just continued to climb. That was just SO frustrating! And I thought I was doing really great too. What do I have to do to beat this guy? It was like the whole thing was rigged. . .Little did I know - it was. . .

"You're still behind Randall," Fungus informed me.

Duh.

All the same, he continued to jabber on. "Y'know, maybe I should re-align the scream intake valve. . ."

My numbers continued to lag more and more behind as he spoke, I knew that without even looking at the tally board. So, in frustration, I finally exploded. "Just get me another door!!" I shot back, not allowing him to finish.

Fungus nearly lept out of his skin. "AAHH!! The door. Yes. The door. . ." he mumbled quickly, scrambling towards my scare station.

I knew if he had even half the chance, he would go on talking forever. I didn't have forever. I needed to prove to Sullivan and Wazowski I could, at the VERY least, equal them (if not beat them) - now - before they beat ME to the All-Time Scare Record. If they did that, then I was positive I'd NEVER hear the end of it. I'd be living a nightmare. My kids' kids would walk down the sidewalk and be reminded by Sullivan and Wazowski's own offspring of my failures. It could go on for generations! I was desperate not to let that happen. SO desperate. . .

Plus, being really stressed and tired - as I was - obviously doesn't help better things in the long-run. I found that out the hard way.

I ran into and out of so many doors after that, I don't recall even any approximate number of how many that was. I was just pushing the envelope, trying to get as much as I could in the little slot of time I had left. After that, I REALLY needed to take a rest. I came out of the door, totally winded. My chest heaved up and down as I tried to catch my breath. I was just waiting for Fungus to bring me another door so I could go at it again. I sure hoped all this extra work was paying off. . .

"Uh, sir?" Fungus said meekly, approaching me as if I were an explosive.

"WHAT??" I snapped, turning to him angrilly. Wasn't this guy paid to do his JOB and not tell me how to re-align a scream intake valve? At least, that's what I thought he was going to tell me. . .

Fungus cringed behind his clipboard, fearfully pointing over it - at the tally board. "Look. . ."

I turned around, as if fearful of the numbers I'd see next to Sullivan's name. . .

"Attention, we have a new scare leader," came Ceila's voice. "Randall Boggs."

I almost did a double-take. But it was true! I had finally beaten Sullivan! My defeated expression broke into a big, accomplished smile and I chuckled, folding my arms over my chest. Other monsters (mostly scare assistants) came over to me, shaking my hands and congradulating me. It was a wonderful feeling, I have to tell you. Yup, a feeling that I've known very few times in my life - respect.

Yup. Big surprise to some of you out there who think I'm just some heartless villian. If you ever took a walk in my shoes (so to speak) you'd know just what torture I go through day in and day out. But, any way you slice it, respect was all I was after in the first place. That's why I agreed to work for Waternoose on building the SE. He gave me the subtle promise of respect and recognition. And now I was finally getting a taste of what Sullivan was used to recieving for three years - THREE YEARS for Monstropolis' sake! I was hoping he'd retire last year, but doncha know it? I've never had such luck.

So, I just stood there, enjoying the attention the others were lavishing on me. All of a sudden, I felt like a million bucks. It washed away all of the agony I had gone through late at night struggling with the stupid Scream Extractor. It even threw my exhaustion, hunger, and stress overboard, for the moment. I couldn't help but wink at one of my fellow workers.

Now, this is where I later found out - from a very credible source - where things went wrong. I didn't notice at the time, but behind my back (and Sullivan and Wazowski's), Waternoose was sticking a card key into Sullivan's folder. It stuck out just enough that Wazowski would grab it first, over all of the others tucked away in there. That card key, Waternoose KNEW, led to a group of kids having a party inside.

He did it, probably, to make me just that more desperate to make it to the top and get the respect I wanted so badly. You see, he was using my desperation to be number one to his advantage. That made me loyal to him in building the SE. After learning all of this, I wouldn't be surprised if he caused that scream "shortage" himself - just for the profits it would get 'im.

Kinda like the CEOs at Enron. . .Yeah, I watched a bit of the news after I was chucked into the human world. I believe the same thing happened on what we monsters call the 'eastern seaboard' of America, as what happened in Monstropolis. I dunno what you humans think, but the resemblance is uncanny to me.

Anyways, I was busy being proud of my accomplishment and all that, when the most terrible thing that could have happened. . happened. I heard a round of screams coming from Sullivan's station. Curious, I glanced over at his station. Wazowski was pulling canister after canister out of those holders. My heart sank and that feeling of overwhelming depression settled in my stomach again. My face fell. They had beaten me. . .I could figure that out even before the numbers reached the board.

Sulley gave me a smile (one that made me want to throw up) and cracked his knuckled casually. "Slumber party."

"Nevermind," Ceila said over the loudspeakers again.

My fears were confirmed. I was the loser - again. I frowned as the monsters that surrounded me simply shoved me out of the way to get to Sullivan. I then growled deeply, watching Sullivan give them all high-fives. I swore, he smirked at me once. It was true. Life just WASN'T fair. . .

Waternoose - the rich jerk - approached his "favorite employee" and patted him on the back. Why didn't he pay any attention to ME when I made it to Top Scarer? Oh yeah, too busy spoiling Sullivan. Nevermind.

"Well, James," he said. "That was an impressive display!"

Sullivan just shrugged. "Oh, just doing my job, Mr. Waternoose," he replied, smiling. "Of course, I did learn from the best!"

They both laughed like old friends and I watched on in jealousy. Yeah, I'll admit it, now. I was totally jealous. Here I was, stuck working overtime (WITHOUT extra pay, mind you) for my boss on a machine he couldn't even pronounce, nonetheless build for himself and all I got was the usual ignorant treatment and the number two spot. Talk about a rip-off.

I sure hoped he would be more trustworthy on his promise to make me a high-ranking executive, if this Scream Extractor really worked (sure it would, I designed it - with Waternoose's approval, of course). But, we wrote a simple contract, sealing the agreement we had. I made sure of it. I'm not as stupid as most monsters think. So, he can't drop the fact that he signed on it. At least I had that assurance.

Anyhow, I glanced at Fungus for a moment to see how outraged he was of this. I was shocked. It seemed like he was actually enjoying the scene! That was it. I had reached the end of my rope. I glared at him furiously.

"If I don't see a new door in my station in FIVE seconds. . ." I began, my body shaking with anger as I addressed my only "friend". "I will personally put YOU through the SHREDDER!!"

Fungus cringed even more away from me as I yelled at him. He finally lept in fright, as he heard my threat to use the shredder on him, and ran off to do as he was ordered. I just watched him run off, glaring after him. I was going to beat Sullivan in scaring one of these days. . .I'd prove I was just as worthy of respect as he was. No matter what it took.