"TWERP!"
Vicky glared at the motionless adolescent. She couldn't believe she had forgotten about him for two whole hours. He was supposed to be making a fool of himself with a girly flamingo costume! She had already gathered a news crew and Chet Ubetcha outside the house with cameras and reporters.
He was curled up in a little ball on his bed, fast sleep. Grinning evilly, she crept closer. He didn't awaken. With an evil smirk, she grabbed his undies and yanked.
"YOWCH! VICKY!" Timmy yelled. "What was that for? And… HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN ASLEEP?!"
He glanced over at the clock, half-anxious, half-terrified. 6:21 already?
"I'M 45 MINUTES LATE ALREADY!" He exclaimed. "Trixie's gonna kill me!" He got up and ran for the door. "I gotta go!"
"Hold on a second!"
Vicky stood in his way, waving the flamingo costume around in one hand and the bag of make-up in the other. "You aren't going anywhere…"
"VICKY! I gotta go! Come on, move it!"
Timmy glanced around nervously for anything, ANYTHING that might help. Finally, he realized something… the door.
"Look! A monkey!"
Vicky turned around immediately and Timmy slammed the door to his room and turned the lock.
"HEY! There's no monk- Wait a minute! LET ME IN! This is your BABYSITTER speaking!"
Despite Vicky's shouts, he toned her out completely, flopping down on his bed. "Geez!" He exclaimed. "This is ridiculous! I can't leave my room because of Vicky, but I can't stay in here because of Trixie!" He turned his attention to the window. Maybe he could climb out?
"Uh-huh… Perfect."
He opened the window. Outside, he saw the whole cast of Dimmsdale's news channel… And Chet Ubetcha.
"Good evening Dimmsdale! I'm Chet Ubetcha, live from the house of a local, where he's being trapped inside his room by a deranged babysitter trying to make him dress up like a female flamingo!"
Timmy shut the window immediately. "No way am I going out there." He huffed. "Then they'll know my identity and I'll be called 'flamingo boy' for the rest of my life! What do I do? What do I do!?"
He did the only thing he could think of at the moment.
He flopped down on the bed, turned on the radio, and curled up in a fetal position while sucking his thumb.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Heavy footsteps could be heard from miles away as Jorgen Von Strangle paced the halls of the Fairyworld Medical Center. Fifteen fairies had come down with some strange, foreign disease in just a matter of days.
"Doctor, I do not see why I was summoned here." He bellowed in annoyance. The nervous fairy doctor flipped through the pages of his notebook, gulping, hoping Jorgen wouldn't get too angry.
"Well, you see Mr. Von Strangle sir… we've done research on it all week, and we've come to one conclusion."
"And what is that?"
"We have no idea what this sickness is."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Oh, uh…" The doctor pushed his specs back up on his nose and flipped through a couple more pages, trying to read what he had scribbled down in scrawled handwriting. "I read that you are the sole guardian of the Anti-Fairyworld, correct?"
"Ever since that other guy took off. I check on the Anti-Fairyworld every week. I have other, more important things to do, you know."
"Yes, that's what I thought. We have reason to believe the Anti-Fairies are behind the creation of this disease. See, the sickness itself appears to have no source- but we have detected large amounts of black magic in the air around the infected fairies... And only the Anti-Fairies can use black magic."
"Ah. But-" Jorgen suddenly glowered at the fairy before him. "What haven't you told me?!"
"All the Anti-Fairies escaped this morning." The doctor blurted before he could stop himself. "Eh-heheh… No fault of mine, of course! They just became too powerful, and the magical seal containing them was broken."
Jorgen stared at the doctor in surprise. "YOU IMBECILE!" He finally bellowed. He bent over to look the other fairy in the face, his staff-like wand beginning to glow. "So, you summoned me here to round up all the Anti-Fairies? That's it, isn't it?"
"Actually, no. We'll never be able to re-contain them all. That magical seal was the most powerful one we had…" The doctor bit his lip. "So, in reality… We have to destroy them. Scramble the fairies. Gather them all up and tell them what's going on. We may have to declare war on our anti-selves."
Jorgen stood up. His large wand stopped glistening and he held it normally again. "Why did you not say that in the first place?" He grumbled.
=NUCLEAR POOF!=
Jorgen re-appeared outside the gates of Fairyworld, standing beside the bridge to Earth.
"ATTENTION ALL PUNY FAIRIES!" He boomed, causing the world as we know it to quake. "COME OUT HERE AT ONCE!"
"Just a few more minutes, daddy. I know he'll show."
"Trixie, it's been an hour. Look, I want to go home, and I know you do too."
Trixie's father slumped down on the steering wheel, bored to death. This 'Timmy' still hadn't shown.
"Maybe he just forgot." He suggested. Trixie stuck her nose in the air and turned away.
"Timmy wouldn't forget." She grumbled. "He'd never forget. Maybe he's just busy."
"Too busy just to call us?" Her father demanded. "Come on. Let's just go home."
"Just two more minutes!"
"Nuh-uh! No more minutes! We're heading straight home!"
Trixie glared out the window, tears welling up in her eyes. Had he really forgotten?
She shook her head of this thought, reassuring herself that it was a completely ridiculous thing to assume. There was probably a very good reason why he hadn't shown yet.
"I should call him." Trixie murmured. She picked up her cell phone, turned it on, and dialed in Timmy's phone number. Nobody answered on the other end. She put her phone away and continued to give the window a blank and empty stare. She wasn't looking out the window. She was looking IN the window, watching her face turn from determined to worried and sad.
"It's all right, Trix'. There'll be others." Her father said in an assuring tone. She took it the wrong way.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded. "Are you saying he isn't good enough?"
"Well, in all honesty, he certainly hasn't made a good impression on me so far. It's 7:00, an hour after your arranged 'date', and he STILL hasn't shown. Not so much as a single phone call!"
"He probably just… couldn't come and… maybe he doesn't know my cell phone number…" She lowered her voice to an inaudible level. "Even though he has it memorized…"
"If the thought makes you feel better."
"V-I-C-K-Y
The sound of her name makes the little kids cry
Ahhh!"
Timmy tossed a small toy basketball against the wall in boredom as he listened to the radio. At least it was one of his favorite songs, and it DEFINITELY corresponded to his mood right now.
"Hey Vicky you're so so icky
Just the thought of being around you makes me oh so sicky
Hey Vicky won't you please explain
Why you get so much enjoyment out of causing kids pain?"
"Just how does he know Vicky?" Timmy demanded. "Chip Skylark must be some kind of psychic!"
"Oh oh oh
A chick who's just plain mean
A sour sweet sixteen
She's a fire breathing dragon in a pair of black jeans
Ewwww!"
Before he knew what he was doing, Timmy was bent down in his closet, searching through his piles of albums and his old Crimson Chin comic books.
"'Assorted Photographs from the Life of Timmy Turner'. Yeah, this sounds promising." Not really sure what he was searching for, he took the book with him as he laid back down in bed, turning the pages slowly as if he were carefully looking for something.
The first thing he laid his eyes on was a familiar scene. An 8-year old version of him sitting at the table in front of a huge plate of spinach while his father tape-recorded every last second of his precious childhood.
He turned the page.
There was him –with a toilet plunger- and a certain orange-haired teen – with soda and a whole plate full of food.
"The beginning of my nightmare." He grumbled.
"Ewwww
Hey Vicky won't you tell the truth
How'd we ever get the bad luck to be stuck with you
Oh Vicky can we say one thing
It's your super total yuckiness that makes us wanna sing."
"You're so right, Chip." Timmy mumbled. "It's almost as if I know you."
With each turn of the page came a gloomier image than the last.
'Me and Vicky on Halloween when my parents were out of town. We were the pirate and the ballerina. She was the pirate.' Read one.
"That's dumb!" Timmy suddenly exclaimed, feeling even more offended. "This book is full of nothing but memories that are BEST forgotten!"
In frustration, he flung the album beside him, not bothering to look at what page it had opened to- the very last page. This one read:
'Cosmo and Wanda, the greatest godparents ever.'
"We're going to war?"
Cosmo clung to his pink-haired wife, already scared. "WAAAANNNNDDAAAA!" He whined. "I don't wanna go to war! Mama told me all about them! They're violent and bloody and mindless and mean…"
Wanda gently detached the terrified fairy from her arm. "It's all right, Cosmo." She tried to comfort him, although she was a little shaky herself. "We'll find a way…"
"Let's go get Timmy!" Cosmo immediately blabbed. "Timmy can wish for it to go away, a-a-and we can do it, and then we'll all be okay!"
"Cosmo, magic doesn't effect other magical items… You know that." Wanda replied. "And… according to Jorgen, this disease is powered by black magic… therefore, we can't do anything about it."
They were floating outside the gates to Fairyworld after Jorgen Von Strangle had called an emergency meeting between all fairies in the universe. All the other fairies had left to prepare for war… only Cosmo, Wanda, and a few other equally terrified fairies remained.
"But we can go get Timmy, if it makes you feel any better." Wanda cooed as Cosmo's breathing started to go hysterical. She hated seeing him so frightened. "Maybe he'll know what to do." At the same time, she contradicted herself on the inside. 'What am I talking about? Timmy's a thirteen-year old kid who's forgotten all about us. He won't have a clue what we should do.'
Wanda tugged on Cosmo's sleeve. "Come on, Cosmo." She urged. "Let's go."
Cosmo was holding a photo and starting to sniffle. "I still miss him." He whined. "WAHAHAHA!"
"I miss Timmy too, Cosmo. But maybe we'll see him on Earth!"
Cosmo immediately stopped crying. "Timmy? Who said anything about Timmy?"
Wanda glanced at the photo in Cosmo's hands.
"What's that?" She demanded, pointing at the picture of an ant.
"Carl!" Cosmo exclaimed, as if it was someone everyone should know.
"Oh… THAT Carl." Wanda grumbled, finally remembering. "Don't you miss Tim- Never mind. We have to leave now, Cosmo."
"WHEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Cosmo exclaimed, his sadness lifted. (of course, with his memory span, he probably forgot all about the crisis already…)
Wanda raised her wand, and her counterpart did the same. =POOF!= They were gone- and a second later, they stood on the edge of the road, in the middle of a very familiar street.
"This is more like it!" Wanda smiled, looking around. "A neighborhood I recognize!"
"Where is this place?" Cosmo demanded, hiding behind Wanda. She sighed.
"That's Timmy's house." She explained. "This is the same street he lives on! I thought you would know!"
"What do we do now?" Cosmo asked, glancing around.
"Well, first we have to find Timmy and restore his memories. And to do that, we'll have to take on our human forms. Remember when we posed as Timmy's parents?"
Cosmo's eyes lit up upon remembering. "Ooooh! So, we just get big, skinny and humany again?"
"Exactly!"
Wanda lifted her wand. She and Cosmo started to grow. Their arms and legs extended, now thinner and more efficient. Their wings and crowns disappeared and they were left with nothing but their wands, which they both pocketed to disguise their identities.
"There we go! Becoming human is always a real switch, huh, Cosmo?" She asked, looking herself up and down.
There was no response.
"…Cosmo?"
She finally caught sight of him, hopping down the sidewalk and towards Timmy's house without a care in the world.
Meanwhile, a very bored Chet Ubetcha sat in front of Timmy's house, waiting for the boy to come out in the girly flamingo suit.
"Isn't there ANYTHING at all in this town more interesting than just sitting here?" He grumbled. "Well, we're STILL live, and nothing has hap-" His attention was caught on something out of the corner of his eye, eager for a distraction. "This just in! A dog is urinating on a nearby fire hydrant! Let's go!"
Chet and the news crew left Timmy's front lawn and instead headed all the way down the street, where a small dog was indeed doing some business.
Timmy jerked upwards. "My 'the Newscasters are gone' senses are tingling!" He headed to the window and opened it.
"No newscasters? No Chet Ubetcha? No taunts of 'flamingo boy' for the rest of my life? Awesome! Now's my chance!"
He climbed out the window and used the bricks as footrests until he reached the ground.
"YES! I'm free! I'm free! Free from the evil clutches of-"
Trixie's limo drove by and stopped inches in front of him. Timmy gulped.
The window rolled down, revealing Trixie, looking very upset.
"T-T-T-Trixie? Uh, listen… about tonight…"
"You were here all along?" Trixie demanded. Timmy immediately started to babble.
"But- flamingo- Chet Ubetcha- Vicky- Dreaming- I couldn't come! My evil babysitter was holding me hostage! You've got to believe me! You- WAAAH!"
Vicky pushed Timmy out of the way. "Let's just get a few things straight, mysterious stranger. As long as Twerp here is in MY care, you won't be making any plans with him! In my special Babysitting Policy, I clearly state that Timmy cannot date and/or make plans with people I don't know. So, basically, you'll have to wait another day."
"Oh… Well, that's ok, Timmy. We were only waiting an hour." Trixie knew it wasn't his fault, but she couldn't help her growing annoyance. "You could've called, or something."
"Well, I guess you should've looked more into Twerp's laziness when you agreed to date him." Vicky hissed. "Now you can just head on home… or we can do this the hard way!"
Without saying another word, Trixie rolled up the window. She needed to sort out her emotions before deciding what to do.
"Ok, dad. I'm ready to leave."
"Finally!"
Trixie sped away, leaving Timmy coughing in the dust trail left by the screech of the wheels. Vicky stood, menacing and satisfied, knowing she'd scored big time. Vicky – 1, Timmy – 0.
"VICKY!!!" He screamed, angrier than he had ever been in ages. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!!"
"You escape from my clutches, I ruin your life. That's the way it works." She told him. "Now, I do believe… YOU STILL HAVE SOME HOMEWORK OF MINE TO DO!"
"Fine, Vicky." He said with surprising calmness, but his face was still red and his blood was still boiling.
They walked inside, and Vicky shoved the kid in the direction of her homework.
"GET IT DONE and I won't have to tell your parents you snuck out of the house!"
Timmy stood before the mountain of books and papers.
"You want your homework done??"
He grabbed the first textbook on the stack… opened it up to the correct page… and then ripped it out. Just like he did with the next page. And the next. And the next.
"HEY!" She exclaimed. "WHAT are you DOING?!"
Timmy ignored her and continued with what she was doing.
Vicky was at his side in a flash, seething with rage. She lifted him off the ground by the collar of the shirt and looked him in the eye.
"You… are one dead twerp."
Watching this happen was a seemingly-normal man, other than the fact he was quite scrawny and his hair was bright green. He had found his way inside without much difficulty, for the front door had been left ajar. Neither of the two at war noticed him as he walked in. In fact, they had no knowledge of his presence until he spoke.
"HI, TIMMY!"
Vicky dropped Timmy in shock, and Timmy rubbed his sore behind. "Who are you?!?" He demanded.
The stranger's eyes got big and watery. "Timmy? You mean… you don't recognize me? NOOOOOOO!" He burst into tears.
Timmy stared at him, eyes wide. He didn't know what disturbed him more, the high-pitched edge to this guy's voice or its haunting familiarity that he couldn't quite put a finger on.