Disclaimer: The basic plot for this story is my idea, however The Fairly OddParents and all characters involved belong to Butch Hartman.
Chapter Four-- "Pressure"
When school let out the next day, Timmy wanted nothing more than to get home as fast as possible so he could have time to hide any evidence of fairies before Crocker moved in. This was going to be disastrous.
Unfortunately for Timmy, it didn't take Crocker long to pack up his belongings and throw them into his van. He arrived at the Turner house in exactly one half hour.
"Timmy, your teacher is here," Mrs. Turner called as the ominous black van pulled up in the driveway, countless satellites and radars beeping on its roof, "Hurry and get the door!"
Timmy begrudgingly answered the door to find Crocker standing on the stoop, fairy-tracking device in hand. He still looked like a wreck, but apparently he was functioning just enough to know he was at the house of a child suspected to have fairy godparents.
"Hi, Mr. Crocker," Timmy forced an awkward smile, trying to be friendly, "Uh...won't you come in?"
"Hello, Turner," Crocker replied coldly, slinking into the house with all the coordination of a sleep-deprived person..
"Welcome to our humble home, Mr. Crocker," Mrs. Turner smiled warmly, "It's a pleasure to share it with you."
"Oh, the pleasure's all mine," Crocker replied, not really thinking about what he was saying, "This will give me the perfect opportunity to hunt for...FAIRIES!!! Gah--I mean, recollect myself and get back on my feet, of course."
---------------
Timmy despised the arrangements that were never discussed with him. That night, he found out he would be sharing his room with Mr. Crocker. That was the last thing he had expected, but at least he didn't have to forfeit his own bed. Crocker didn't seem to have a problem sleeping on the floor.
"It's usually where I end up at home anyway," he told Mrs. Turner, implying that he had an uncanny habit of falling out of bed. Timmy could easily guess why.
"If he flings himself around in fairy spasms in his sleep as much as he does when he's awake, no wonder he winds up on the floor," Timmy muttered to Cosmo and Wanda--disguised as goldfish in their bowl while Timmy brushed his teeth.
"Talking to your fairy god-fish, Turner?" Crocker asked, eavesdropping outside the bathroom door.
"Do you mind?" Timmy asked, flinging the door open angrily and nearly causing Crocker to fall on top of him as he had been leaning against the door, listening, "A little privacy, please?"
"Do you always take your 'pet fish' in the bathroom with you?" Crocker inquired, making quotation marks with his fingers as he said "pet fish".
"Yes," Timmy replied, thinking fast, "I get lonely easily. They keep me company in here. The bathroom is...uh...a scary place when I'm in it alone."
Crocker's expression said he didn't buy a word of it, but Timmy didn't waver. He knew he would have to work overtime outsmarting his suspicious teacher now that he was sharing his home with him. He now had to view Crocker as a full-time fixture in his life. He could only hope it wouldn't be a permanent arrangement.
When Timmy finally returned to his room, Crocker was nowhere to be seen. He didn't have a good feeling about this though. If Crocker had to be in his house, Timmy wanted to know his whereabouts at all times.
"Where'd he go?" he whispered to his goldfish, "I don't like this you guys. I think--Aaaahhh!"
Timmy jumped back three feet when a scrawny arm reached out from under his bed, soon to be followed by Crocker's upper body. Apparently, Crocker had been snooping through the various items under Timmy's bed.
"Hello, Turner," Crocker groaned, dragging himself out and standing upright, his hunched back cracking as he did so.
"Why are you so attracted to cramped spaces?" Timmy asked, irritated.
"I know there are fairies in this house," Crocker hissed, "I whiffed them once before and I'm whiffing them now. Where are they, Turner?!"
"I...don't...have...fairies!" Timmy shouted, seething between words, "Now, it's past my bedtime. I have school tomorrow. I would like to get some sleep and--"
"You should do the same, Mr. Crocker," Mrs. Turner interrupted, appearing in the doorway and throwing five or six blankets at Crocker, bowling him over, "Here are some extra blankets. Oh, and here's an extra pillow too."
Crocker recovered himself just in time to get hit full in the face by the airborne pillow and knocked off his feet for the second time in less than thirty seconds.
"Too bad that wasn't enough to knock him into next week and out of my house," Timmy muttered.
Chapter Four-- "Pressure"
When school let out the next day, Timmy wanted nothing more than to get home as fast as possible so he could have time to hide any evidence of fairies before Crocker moved in. This was going to be disastrous.
Unfortunately for Timmy, it didn't take Crocker long to pack up his belongings and throw them into his van. He arrived at the Turner house in exactly one half hour.
"Timmy, your teacher is here," Mrs. Turner called as the ominous black van pulled up in the driveway, countless satellites and radars beeping on its roof, "Hurry and get the door!"
Timmy begrudgingly answered the door to find Crocker standing on the stoop, fairy-tracking device in hand. He still looked like a wreck, but apparently he was functioning just enough to know he was at the house of a child suspected to have fairy godparents.
"Hi, Mr. Crocker," Timmy forced an awkward smile, trying to be friendly, "Uh...won't you come in?"
"Hello, Turner," Crocker replied coldly, slinking into the house with all the coordination of a sleep-deprived person..
"Welcome to our humble home, Mr. Crocker," Mrs. Turner smiled warmly, "It's a pleasure to share it with you."
"Oh, the pleasure's all mine," Crocker replied, not really thinking about what he was saying, "This will give me the perfect opportunity to hunt for...FAIRIES!!! Gah--I mean, recollect myself and get back on my feet, of course."
---------------
Timmy despised the arrangements that were never discussed with him. That night, he found out he would be sharing his room with Mr. Crocker. That was the last thing he had expected, but at least he didn't have to forfeit his own bed. Crocker didn't seem to have a problem sleeping on the floor.
"It's usually where I end up at home anyway," he told Mrs. Turner, implying that he had an uncanny habit of falling out of bed. Timmy could easily guess why.
"If he flings himself around in fairy spasms in his sleep as much as he does when he's awake, no wonder he winds up on the floor," Timmy muttered to Cosmo and Wanda--disguised as goldfish in their bowl while Timmy brushed his teeth.
"Talking to your fairy god-fish, Turner?" Crocker asked, eavesdropping outside the bathroom door.
"Do you mind?" Timmy asked, flinging the door open angrily and nearly causing Crocker to fall on top of him as he had been leaning against the door, listening, "A little privacy, please?"
"Do you always take your 'pet fish' in the bathroom with you?" Crocker inquired, making quotation marks with his fingers as he said "pet fish".
"Yes," Timmy replied, thinking fast, "I get lonely easily. They keep me company in here. The bathroom is...uh...a scary place when I'm in it alone."
Crocker's expression said he didn't buy a word of it, but Timmy didn't waver. He knew he would have to work overtime outsmarting his suspicious teacher now that he was sharing his home with him. He now had to view Crocker as a full-time fixture in his life. He could only hope it wouldn't be a permanent arrangement.
When Timmy finally returned to his room, Crocker was nowhere to be seen. He didn't have a good feeling about this though. If Crocker had to be in his house, Timmy wanted to know his whereabouts at all times.
"Where'd he go?" he whispered to his goldfish, "I don't like this you guys. I think--Aaaahhh!"
Timmy jumped back three feet when a scrawny arm reached out from under his bed, soon to be followed by Crocker's upper body. Apparently, Crocker had been snooping through the various items under Timmy's bed.
"Hello, Turner," Crocker groaned, dragging himself out and standing upright, his hunched back cracking as he did so.
"Why are you so attracted to cramped spaces?" Timmy asked, irritated.
"I know there are fairies in this house," Crocker hissed, "I whiffed them once before and I'm whiffing them now. Where are they, Turner?!"
"I...don't...have...fairies!" Timmy shouted, seething between words, "Now, it's past my bedtime. I have school tomorrow. I would like to get some sleep and--"
"You should do the same, Mr. Crocker," Mrs. Turner interrupted, appearing in the doorway and throwing five or six blankets at Crocker, bowling him over, "Here are some extra blankets. Oh, and here's an extra pillow too."
Crocker recovered himself just in time to get hit full in the face by the airborne pillow and knocked off his feet for the second time in less than thirty seconds.
"Too bad that wasn't enough to knock him into next week and out of my house," Timmy muttered.
