A Different Point of View
by Randall Boggs


NOTE FROM JOY: Sorry it's taking so long. Besides the fact that I'm managing my site and "Spy Game", this fic takes a bit longer to write, because - at the same time I'm helping Randall write it - I'm referring back to the DVD as referrence. So, this is probably the most accurate re-writing of the movie story as you'll find anywhere. I don't write stories without alot of heart and soul put into them, which (I think) is a quality that makes stories become great ones, and this one is no exception.

I do my research and make sure I'm getting it right step-by-step - even studying his expressions in the movie and trying to find out what he's thinking. Of course, Randall and Sean are my main critics, who give me tips here and there to make this story the best it can be (thanks boys). I even attempt to get the movement and acting (as well as timing) just right. I DO compromise in a few places and let a few typos sneak in here and there without noticing it, but otherwise it's the great quality you've come to expect from me. And I won't let you down, I'll tell you that, even if it DOES seem to take forever. *laughs*

Thanks for all of the reviews too! Randall and me love reading them, as you may or may not know by now, each one is very encouraging and motivates the both of us to keep writing. ^_^

But now, I'll pass it on over to Randall. Enjoy the story!

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Chapter Four - One Last Chance

It had taken me less time than I had thought to find Wazowski. In fact, I saw where he was headed and ran down a shortcut to cut him off. Of course, he hadn't seen me either - which was good on my part. He streaked around a corner and stopped, glancing around. He was looking to see if I followed him, no doubt. Heh heh. If only he knew. . .

"Whew," he said, turning towards where I was standing.

I had vanished into the painting of Waternoose that hung on the wall. I knew now was the time to get down to business. Tell it to the guy straight. I slowly unblended from the painting and folded my arms grumpily, waiting for him to spot me. As luck would have it, he did. And, as I had expected, it scared him half to death.

"Yikes!" he yelled, jumping about ten feet in the air.

Though it was amusing, I wasn't smiling. My job and total livelihood was on the line and that green eyeball obviously knew much more about the situation than he wanted me to know. I wasn't going to put up with this junk. I laid down the line.

"Where's the kid?" I demanded, pouncing on him and grabbing his eyebrow.

"Kid?" he chuckled nervously. "What kid?"

I backed off, something important coming to mind. A look of realization came over my face and I glared at him. "It's here in the factory - isn't it?" I asked, looking around.

Wazowski continued to make his usual excuses. "You're not pinning this on me," he replied, holding up his hands. "It never would have gotten out if YOU hadn't been cheating last night!"

There he went again, blaming EVERYTHING on me. Didn't he know? It wasn't MY fault that Sullivan came on the Scarefloor and opened the door. It wasn't MY fault they took the kid home while the whole city's looking for her. It wasn't MY fault the kid got out in the first place. I had had just about enough with hearing that kind of stuff from Wazowski. He had NO idea the kind of stuff I was going through. . .

"CHEATING??" I asked, raising my voice. "I -"

But then I stopped. So, he still thought I was cheating? He had no idea the huge plans that were REALLY behind this corporate scandal of Waternoose's? Hmm. Maybe I could still keep Waternoose's plot a secret by going along with Wazowski's suspicions. It was perfect. So what if they knew about the kid? I might be able to manupulate them into covering it up, so we could all just go on with life.

Actually, it'd be a win-win situation. They wouldn't get involved in this. I'd get the kid off their hands, so they could live their normal, obnoxious lives again. And I'd keep my job without "letting the cat out of the bag", as they say. It was the perfect cover-up operation. I was just hoping Wazowski would fall for it. . .

I took up a calm composure again and eyed him. "Cheating. . ." I replied, pointing to him. "Right." I tried to give him a smile, though I suspect it came out TOO happy - or sly, either one. But, in any case, he should consider himself lucky that I was giving him a second chance to straighten things out. "Okay, I think I know how to make this all go away."

I talked slowly and clearly, so that he could understand me. "What happens when the whistle blows in five minutes?"

He looked totally clueless, to say the least. "Uh. I. . .get a time-out?"

"Everyone goes to lunch!!" I replied in outrage.

Okay, so a have a small temper problem. But you can't say I didn't, at least, TRY to be patient. It's kinda hard to be pleasant when you've got a tight deadline, the threat of your boss laying into you for losing the kid he wants, and having a lack of everything necessary to have a good day (i.e. sleep, energy, decent meals. . .). You gotta admit, though, Wazowski REALLY had a problem with easy questions.

And that's an understatement.

But I composed myself again and continued. "Which means the Scarefloor will be. . .?"

Wazowski paused for a long moment. The gears in his brain seemed to be working feverishly for the answer. ". . .Painted?"

"Empty! It'll be empty, you idiot!" I replied, shaking him by the shoulders.

Yup. You guessed it. I had just run out of patience. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

I pointed behind me. "You see that clock?" I asked, waiting for him to nod before continuing. "The big hand is pointing UP. And when the little hand is pointing UP, the door will be in my station. . ." I held his arms and positioned them accordingly to illustrate my point. Unfortunately for Wazowski, I was reaching the painful end of my speech. "But when the big hand points DOWN. . .The door will be gone. You have until then to put the kid BACK." I leaned into his face. "Get the picture?"

He nodded with a small whimper.

"Okay, good," I replied, letting him go.

He untangled his arms (I'm surprised I didn't break 'em!), rubbing them as he stared at me with this look of horror on his face. He didn't say anything. Just stared.

I circled around to the other side of him, my hands clasped behind my back. "And Wazowski?"

He gulped. "Uhh. . .yeah?" he asked, his voice now small and squeaky.

"I don't want anyone else to know about this - got that?" I said, making my point clear as I eyed him cautiously.

Wazowski simply nodded his head and ran off at top speed down the hallway. I watched him intently as he disappeared. Now, if only I can grab the kid and keep them from discovering (and possibly getting involved with) this scandal I'm in, it should be a promising situation. If all went well, they'd go on as if nothing had happened and I'd keep this situation of mine from getting more. . .shall we say. . .controversially involved.

I turned tail and headed casually down the opposite hallway, back to my lab to get the cart-and-box I'd need to finalize the deal with Wazowski. Hopefully, it would be the last I'd hear of him and Sullivan getting involved in my business - for their sakes. Yeah. You heard me right. THEIR sakes - as well as my own.

I may hate their guts - but I'm not a heartless criminal, either.

You should know right now that Waternoose never takes too well to anyone getting involved who isn't considered part of his "masterful plan". He got rid of the "Abomidable Snowman" for the same reason. . .no need for more illegalities, I figured. Besides, you'd think that the authorities would notice that the company's so-called "Top Scarer" and his little, green scare assistant had vanished. The last thing I wanted was to give the CDA more clues to follow. . .

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I patiently (okay, maybe IM-patiently) waited under the kid's bed, hoping that I'd scared Wazowski enough earlier that day to make him bring her back to her room for me. That room was where I could get my hands on her and bring the kid to my lab just in time for Waternoose's arrival. He wouldn't suspect a thing as long as Wazowski followed my instructions.

I laid on my stomach amongst the scattered toys and blocks that were not unusual to find in a child's bedroom. I rested my head on my hand and tapped my fingers on her carpeted floor, waiting. I kept one hand on the box, though, one that I managed to squish under the bed next to me. I'd be ready as soon as they brang the kid in.

Okay. Now, I wanna be clear with you on this: I brought down HER door specifically and not some other one because. . .One: I'm not stupid. Two: They're not stupid (though, if you want my truthful opinion, they're not too far off). And Three: To convince them that I was trying to help.

Finally, I heard it.

Wazowski and Sullivan were saying something unintelligable on the other side of the closet door.

"You want me to prove everything's on the up-and-up?" I could hear Wazowski saying. "Fine!"

That's all I could make out as Wazowski jabbered on outside the door. I slunk under the bed further. This was it! I was home-free and the kid would be mine! I waited for the right moment, hearing the kid jump up onto the bed and start bouncing up and down. I then grabbed the box and - in one fluid movement - scooped her up and shut the lid. I couldn't believe my luck!

Not getting laid into by Waternoose already seemed like a great preposition to me. I came out from under the bed and hefted the surprisingly-heavy box into my four arms. Then I carried it out the door and dropped it onto the cart I would be using to move it back to my lab (What? Did you really expect me to CARRY it all the way?). I quickly pressed the button to send the kid's door back to the vault and turned my attention back to the cart, adjusting the handle so that I could push it.

And to think I never even noticed the big hairball and the kid hiding only feet away from me. . .

Though I didn't know they were around, something inside me was telling me to be cautious. So, I kept on alert - on edge might be a better term for it. I was walking on a thin line - the line between getting caught and keeping everything quiet. I was finding the second choice harder and harder as Sullivan and Wazowski became involved.

I wheeled the cart halfway towards the exit hall when I thought I heard a noise.

I stopped abrupty, checking over my shoulder before immediately disappearing from sight. This was the same as the bathroom scene and others that I couldn't quite recall at the moment. I slithered around quickly to investigate, the wind following my speedy search blowing a single paper off of a nearby workstation desk. I slowed down gradually, sensing someone was nearby, but not quite sure of myself.

I took it slow, crawling up beside another workdesk and scanning part of the room. I revealed myself as I did so.

Then the workbell rang.

Shoot!

Not wanting to get caught, yet not wanting to just leave the cart out there for anyone to snatch, I slithered back towards it like a lightning bolt. Then I adjusted the handle again and pushed it past the crowd that began to fill the large Scarefloor. I had to get this thing - and the kid inside it - safely put in my secret lab, before anyone became suspicious.

It didn't take me long to reach the lab. I wheeled it inside and was met by a lazy monster known as Fungus Oz. He was obviously nervously waiting by the entrance to see if I had completed the mission.

"S-so. . .did you find it?" Fungus asked me as I made my way inside the heart of the lab.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes! I've got the kid!" was my reply.

He seemed simply giddy about the idea. "Oh, huzzah! That's great news," he said. "Not that I was concerned, of course. . ."

Something about him really got on my nerves, though I couldn't really place it. I pointed to the ground beside me. "Just get over here and help me!" I interrupted, knowing he'd go into a long, drawn-out speech on how "non-concerned" he was. "Come on, come on, come on. While we're young here, Fungus."

I knew he was covering up the fact that he really WAS concerned about my "mission". It's like everyone takes me for an idiot when I talk to them. Like I have no brain or can't carry on an intelligent conversation, then again, maybe it was just because I'm a reptile. We always get the bulk of the prejudice in the monster world, anyway.

Y'know, maybe that's why I get so irritated by Fungus. . .He's a genius and he acts like I can't do any of the things he can. I think that's why. That and perhaps his constant stuttering and nervous jittering. . .

Anyhow, enough about Fungus. Back to the scene. With help from Fungus, we lifted the box out of the, uh, box and carried it over to the Scream Extractor chair. "Kid needs to take off a few pounds," I said, my voice straining from the effort of hauling that darn box that seemed to weigh 200 pounds (which, in fact, it almost did).

We both opened the box and tossed the contents onto the chair, revealing that I had actually captured. . .

"WAZOWSKI?!?" I exclaimed, staring at the guy in a state of shock. This couldn't be happening.

Fungus yelped and cringed. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as I was.

Now, THIS was horrible. Not only did Wazowski know what my lab looked like, he knew I had been lying. I didn't have any doubts that - by now - he had figured out this was more of an issue than just cheating to get to the top. I was in deep now. I had to shut Wazowski up. I had to find the kid again. Those bumbling blockheads had tricked me again! I gave him one last chance to give the kid back and he refused. . .

I should have known.

Now, it was no more Mr. Nice Monster. I was furious. And I knew Waternoose would be too. This needed to be resoved before he found out.

"Where is it ya little one-eyed cretin!?" I demanded, looking behind him just in case he was hiding her.

"Okay. First of all, it's cree-tin," Wazowski corrected me, though he was in no position to do so. "If you're going to threaten me, do it properly."

I simply let him finish, staring at him angrilly and folding my arms, because (like I mentioned before) I'm reasonable. I listen to what my victims have to say before making a move - usually. Right now, I really was NOT in the mood to be pleasant. As far as I was concerned, Wazowski had exhausted his options.

"Second of all, you're NUTS if you think kidnapping me is gonna help you cheat your way to the top!" he finished.

I couldn't help but give him a laugh. And all this time I thought he had already figured me out. . ."You still think this is about that stupid scare record???" I asked, incredulous.

"Well. . .I did. Right up until you. . .chuckled like that," Wazowski said nervously. I could see he was getting ready to make a run for it. "And now. . .I'm thinking I should just get out of here. . ."

Fungus pressed a button on the control panel as I gave him the signal and a bar came down over Wazowski's head. Oh no. I wasn't letting him off easy this time. I was running out of time and he was running out of luck. I grabbed his wrists and clamped bands over them, keeping him locked into his chair.

"I'm about to revolutionize the scaring industry. And when I do, not even the great 'James P. Sullivan' is going to be working for me," I said, emphazising Sullivan's name in a sarcastic tone.

Wazowski tugged at his restraints uneasily. "Well," he replied. "Somebody's been a busy bee. . ."

"First, I need to know where the kid is," I said, eyeing him suspiciously. "And you're gonna tell me."

"I don't know anything!" Wazowski replied.

I looked at Fungus to see if he was ready and nodded. "Uh huh, sure."

Wazowski looked desperate now. "Don't. I mean, don't," he rambled as Fungus tapped away on the control panel keyboard. "Uh-oh."

My Scaream Extractor began lowering down from the ceiling, a mechanical whirring and warning sirens following it. Red lights flashed as it lowered into place. I had installed them for safety reasons, basically to warn anyone underneath to get the heck outta there. Wazowski looked up at it, his eyes as wide as it could go.

"What's that?" he asked, sounding more panicked by the moment. "Come on. Wait, wait, wait. . .Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh. Oh, come on. No, no, no, no, no. Come on. Hey, hey, hey. . ." He wiggled in his seat as it came closer. "This thing is moving. . .I don't like big. . .moving. . .things that are moving towards me. No! Come on! Hey! Randall!?"

I grinned, proud of my hard-earned creation, and patted my hand on the nozzle as if it were a dog. "Say hello to the Scream Extractor," I said, looking at him with a wide smile.

Wazowski gulped. "Hello."

I want you all to know that I didn't want to do this to Wazowski in the first place. Sure, I hate him. I REALLY hate him. But I'm not someone who goes out looking to hurt other monsters. That's why I gave him a second chance to return the kid back in the hallway. That's why I was attempting to cover this scandal up. But now he knew too much. Something drastic had to be done or Waternoose would do us BOTH in. There was no other way.

And I knew that as I turned around to join Fungus at the control panel. My smile faded from my face and turned into a scowl. If only I had brought the kid in, none of this would have happened. My work rivals were getting dangerously close to getting deeply involved in Waternoose's and my business. I couldn't afford to have my boss find out.

I'd have to give the SE it's first test run now. I was hoping it would shut him up, or at least scare him enough to keep this issue under wraps. If there was ANYONE I didn't want to know about this situation, it was Wazowski. He had a big mouth and he knew how to use it too.

I could hear Wazowski behind my back, begging and pleading. I forced myself to ignore him and keep walking, though a little voice inside me told me that this was wrong. I knew it was. But he'd run out of luck. Tough. He had his chances. Life isn't fair. And no one in the building knew that better than me.

"Come on, where are you going?" he was saying. "We'll talk. Come on, we'll have a latte! Come on. We can talk about this!"

I, again, forced myself to limit communication with him. I knew only insults would come out of my mouth. Needless and meaningless words, I knew. I simply shoved my assistant out of the way as I took control of the Scream Extractor. I pushed three regulators up and the machine revved up, moving the nozzle towards Wazowski's face.

"What is that thing? What IS that thing?" Wazowski asked, the nervousness in his voice. "Wait, wait, wait! Stop, stop! No, no! Come on. Hey!" He was down to sheer pleading now. "Help! Help! Help! Help!"

I grinned widely. My machine was working! It's first test run and it was doing great! The smile I had seemed sinister as I watched it come closer to his face. All those years of mocking me and bragging about Sullivan's abilities. . .All the insulting comments. . .I'd finally have my revenge. Now was my time. After this he wouldn't dare do it again. I was pretty sure.

And I don't mean it in the "killing Wazowski off" way. I mean it in the "scaring Wazowski half-to-death" way.

At least. . .I HOPED I wouldn't kill anyone with it. Though, it was a possibility. . .

I just shook the thought off, revelling in my victory. It was only inches from his face now and he was screaming. Then my machine just up and died. Wouldn't ya just know it? I was frustrated. Things just never went my way.

"Oh, for - What'd you do wrong THIS time?" I demanded, glaring at my scare assistant.

Fungus shook his head. "I don't know," he replied.

Here it comes. I knew it was inevitable.

"I callibrated the drive. . ." he began.

Too bad I didn't want a "how-to" class. "Go check the machine!"

And Fungus hopped to it - literally. He approached the dead Scream Extractor and jabbered on. "There must be something wrong witht he scream intake valve," he said. "That's the problem with these 3250 units. . ."

I sighed in exasperation and hung my head, shaking it from side-to-side. This was ridiculous. I thought my design changes were flawless. I guess that's what test runs are for. But did it really have to konk out NOW? As I opened my eyes, I looked down at the floor and the wires attached to the control panel jerked ever-so-slightly. That was a sign that power was abruptly being cut off.

"Huh?" I muttered.

Suspicious, I crawled over the control panel and to the floor. I slithered around, following the wires as Fungus (yup, he was still talking to his imaginary students) continued looking at every aspect of my magnificent machine tightening a nut and bolt here and there. I rose to my four feet halfway there and looked around, as if expecting to see someone there. Hey, a plug doesn't get unplugged by itself y'know. Especially not one THAT big.

Then I found the plug and picked it up. I carefully put it in place and shoved in it, sparks flying as the machine revved back to life. I quickly headed back to the main room again to watch, but I was met by a surprise. . .

I looked up at the SE chair and gasped, shocked. Fungus was in that chair getting extracted instead of Wazowski! He had gotten away and I had the horrible feeling it was Sullivan. Who else would do this?

"What happened?!?" I exclaimed. "Where's Wazowski??"

He obviously couldn't say anything, so I pressed the 'power' button to turn it off. The whirring, resonating sounds died out as it shut down. I looked back up at Fungus, glaring. "Where is he?!" I asked again.

Fungus wheezed a bit and pointed out the exit. I simply groaned and shook my head. Now I had to go find him and make him shut up. This was getting worse by the moment. I turned and quickly walked out of the lab, leaving Fungus to catch his breath again.

I was in deep now. Really deep. . .