Author's Note: I do not own Fairly Oddparents.

Chapter Two: Happy Birthday, Timmy Turner

Timmy awoke to an alarm, a Cosmo alarm to be exact. He stretched luxuriously and gazed at his fairies, who had just poofed themselves out of the fish bowl.

"It's my birthday!" Timmy shouted, jumping out of bed.

"We know that, sport," Wanda said with a grin.

"Yeah," Cosmo added, "you've only said so every day this month."

He poofed up a calendar which began to squawk all the various reminders Timmy had told him.

Wanda poofed it away. "So, what do you want today, pumpkin?"

"Timmy Turner!" Vicky screeched from the kitchen. "Get down here this instant!"

"Uh, not to be babysat by Vicky? How much worse can this day get?"

Timmy slinked down the stairs, going as slowly as humanly possible, clutching a Cosmo notebook and wearing a Wanda hat (his silly pink hat was in the wash). He had delayed with everything this morning, actually toying with the idea of feigning illness. But Cosmo and Wanda had shot that down pretty fast, since Vicky would doubtlessly send him to school with the bubonic plague. So, here he was, shuffling down the stairs as though he were marching to his own funeral.

"How could my parents abandon me on my own birthday?" Timmy muttered, glaring at a photo of his parents hanging on the wall.

"Cheer up, sport," Wanda said soothingly.

"Yeah!" Cosmo piped. "It can't get much worse!"

"Crackpot Crocker could give us a pop test…"

"Stop talking to yourself and get down here!" Vicky thundered and ran to the stairs. She physically hoisted Timmy off the steps and threw him into a chair. Timmy barely made it intact. The Cosmo notebook didn't, he skidded to the floor and Timmy hastened to pick it up.

"Too slow, loser," Vicky snapped as she appeared like a flash and stepped on poor Cosmo.

"Ow!"

"Stupid talking notebook," Vicky grumbled and kicked Cosmo across the kitchen, where he collided quite painfully with the oven.

At the very instant Cosmo began to howl in pain, Timmy jumped to his defense.

"Hey! Don't kick my stuff!" Timmy snapped, rushing to pick him up.

"Oh," Vicky squealed, her eyes sparkling dangerously, "that reminds me."

She pulled out a note, written in Timmy's mother's handwriting. "Your parents left you a note."

Timmy jumped up and lunged for the note, Cosmo in one hand. Unfortunately, he was powerless against Vicky's superior height and reflexes, and a kick in his stomach sent him sprawling. Cosmo slipped from his grasp and slid under the table.

"And, now it's ashes!" Vicky declared, flickering a lighter under it. Timmy watched the note catch fire and disintegrate.

"CLEAN IT UP!"

By the time Timmy finished and retrieved Cosmo, he only had enough time to dash to the bus.