Disclaimer: The basic plot for this story is my idea, however The Fairly OddParents and all characters involved belong to Butch Hartman.

Chapter Six-- "My Life"

The next day, when Crocker finally managed to extricate himself from the folded-up roll-away bed, he looked like he could have used a good ironing. Good thing he was up before anyone else. At least he could stake his claim on the bathroom before someone saw his horribly haggard appearance.

"There's only one logical explanation for last night's events," he muttered to himself after steaming up the bathroom and using all the hot water, "The allergy attack, the unholy amount of dust, the spontaneous folding up of that stupid bed--it was all the work of...FAIRY GODPARENTS!!!"

He was on to Timmy's game. There was no other way the things that had happened the previous night happened by pure chance. Feeling his suspicions confirmed, he knew he had a major job to do in order to prove his beliefs. He would have to watch for Timmy Turner to slip up and make a big mistake.

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"I'm going to miss the bus!" Timmy cried, rushing down the stairs as he realized he had overslept due to a certain individual's mental problems and weird sleeping habits.

"What about the bus?" Mr. Crocker asked kindly...too kindly, "Why not ride in to school with me?"

"What?!" Timmy asked incredulously as Crocker stood blocking his path to the door, "I, uh..."

"Oh, how nice of you, Mr. Crocker," Mrs. Turner smiled, "But are you sure it's not too much trouble? I know children can be distracting while you're driving."

"Nonsense!" Crocker replied, putting on a convincing act for Timmy's naive mother, "It's no trouble at all, I assure you. It would be my pleasure."

"Yeah, I'll bet it would," Timmy grumbled under his breath.

Timmy seemed to be the only one to catch the look on Crocker's face that gave it away that he was up to something. He knew it was a ploy to watch for evidence of fairies and he cringed inwardly when he realized his mother expected him to at least humor Crocker.

The ride into the school was one of the most tense car rides Timmy had ever survived. Of course, he was uptight in knowing that this was Crocker's way of monitoring him for fairy activity, but Crocker's driving skills certainly didn't help ease his nerves.

"You're going to hit the crossing guard!" Timmy screamed, ducking down in the front passenger's seat as Crocker was barreling up to an intersection at an unholy speed.

"No, I'm not," Crocker assured him, rolling down the window and sticking his head out to scream, "Out of my way!"

The crossing guard quickly dove to the curb to avoid being run over by the black van he knew all too well would stop for nothing short of a thick brick wall and even that in itself was debatable.

"Good grief!" Timmy gasped, sitting up cautiously and glaring at his teacher, "How in the world did you ever get a license to drive?"

"It wasn't easy," Crocker replied, turning into the school parking lot on two wheels and slamming the van into his usual parking space. He stopped just short of hitting the chain-link fence.

Timmy had to force himself to loosen his grip on the seat as he shakily unbuckled his seat belt and exited the van. His legs felt like Jell-O as he stumbled up the steps of the school and headed for his class, well aware of Crocker breathing down his neck.

Crocker didn't back off to just subtly stalking Timmy until they were in the classroom. He then had to put aside his fairy-hunting duties and force himself to act like a teacher...or something close to it anyway. At least a slight resemblance.

"Well, class," he said, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a stack of papers, "I graded your essays yesterday in my spare time, so I will be handing them back today."

He began slinking up and down the rows of desks, passing out papers and, sadly, not one of his students got anything higher than an F--sad, but not at all surprising.

"I can't believe he gave me an F on this elaborately written essay about how smart I am!" AJ cried, sobbing over the embarrassing grade, "I spent hours toiling over this!"

"Well, no wonder he gave you an F," Chester scoffed, "Who wants to read a written brag? Now my essay was worthy of an A+!"

"You wrote an essay on nose goblins?" AJ asked, quirking a brow as he skimmed the paper.

"He said the essay could be about anything."

"I'll bet he didn't even read any of these," Elmer whined, "He just went through the whole stack with his evil red marker and--"

"Where'd you get that inside information?" Crocker snapped.

Elmer fell silent, paralyzed with fear. Crocker saw no point in intimidating him further at the moment, so he handed out the last of the papers and moved back to his desk at the front of the class.

Timmy remained silent as he did not want to provoke Crocker in any way. His future was already in danger with the nutcase living in his house. He knew he had to do whatever it would take to avoid confrontations with him. Unfortunately, Crocker was preparing to zero in on him at any moment.

"Crocker!" a familiar shout preceded the entrance of Principal Waxelplax. She looked less than pleased as she motioned Crocker over with her index finger.

Crocker warily followed her out into the hall, wondering what he could be in trouble for this time. He hadn't destroyed any school property...yet. Why did she seem so irritated with him?

"Your mother has called me exactly sixteen times this morning," Waxelplax informed him impatiently, "She's worried sick about you because you haven't called her. She has no clue where you're staying and it's driving her crazy."

"So?" Crocker shrugged nonchalantly as he obviously couldn't care less, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Call her!" Waxelplax barked in response, "For Pete's sake, she's your mother! Let her know where you're staying--whatever it takes to ease her nerves and get her off my back! But you're craziness is driving her crazy and in turn it's driving me crazy!"

"An excellent example of a chain reaction," Crocker mused, "I could use this instance to illustrate today's physics lesson--"

"Chain reaction?!" Waxelplax cried, "It's an epidemic! If it keeps up, I'm calling the institution on you!"

Crocker did not like the sound of that. The mental institution is the last place he cared to visit any time soon. He wouldn't care if he never saw that place or a single orderly ever again. Caught between a rock and a hard place, he realized he would have to confront his mother before things got too out of hand.