Champion of Idiots
Written by: aslowdanceontheinside
Disclaimer: I'm not cool enough to own any of these characters but Jhonen Vasquez is.
Chapter 1
You were most likely the most pathetic being on the planet.
Todd. The name itself.
You hated it. As many things that you'd add on your "shit list" So you went by the nickname 'Squee' a disturbed guy next door gave you.
Let's have a sad summary: You parents never loved you, you had a crazy-ass neighbor- Johnny. (The one that gave you that nickname) You shuddered at the thought and would always ask god what you deserved to have your one of your only friend being stuck with your Pillsbury Dough-Boy conversing, murdering, Cheshire cat smiling psycho 'buddy'.
Well….Your classmates teased you, you often were called "Faggot", and some assholes even spray painted "QUEER!" On your $500 shitty, black, rusted Cadillac. Since your parents did not help you, and you relied on your own profession (Wearing a chicken as mascot for some fast food "restaurant")
Although you were only 16- you still had given up on your 'love life' due to those certain relationships after being repeatedly cheated on; you figured you'd reduce yourself into some form of a bitter, 40-year-old divorced wife living off 'Opera' for comfort.
…..Then again you never considered yourself 'LyKe ToTIllAy HAWT!' You had big dark brown almost black eyes, and matching messy hair. You wore a lot of clothes from thrift stores and garage sales which usually were- old stripped sweaters and cardigans, and tight torn blue jeans- that hung to your tiny frame, with rip-off Doc Martins.
Also with being surrounded by aliens, zombies, serial killers were quite….inconvenient...….yeah.
And no, you were not insane. Not at all.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, in your 4-white wall room-which would be very much like a psych ward room without the posters of your favorite sympathizing sad music:
'The Smiths', 'Bright Eyes'……Ashlee Simpson……Hey. She has a good voice.
As you wrapped your boney, pale finger around a cigarette; lighting it, as you inhaled the smoke. Not that it was that 'cool' as it's cut out to be, it was just strangely alleviating.
All a sudden, you saw a silhouette outside your window.
Oh shit, not now.
You quickly hid cigarette on behind you- after putting it out. The aroma of the tar still filled the air though…...NNY hated it when he saw you smoke.
The tall shadow opened the window up letting the wind embrace the atmosphere, as he let out a leg- stepping onto your carpet. With that toothy grin like a mad man….
"HEY SQUEEGEE!"
"Um…hey" you squeaked. Yup. That's where the nickname is from.
"So curious- I…what's that smell?"
"Um….what smell?"
NNY sniffed, and noticed your hand clutching some thing.
"Squuuuueeeeeee." He let your nick name drag in a disappointing scolding tone, while narrowing his eye brows.
He snatched away your pack.
"HEY! That was the last one I had! AND I don't get paid till' next week to!!" you whined, trying to make him feel sorry for you by taunting him with those wide puppy eyes of yours.
"No Squee. You don't want to become one of those lung-cancer, wheezing fuckers and start complaining more about life, join an industrial band and read vampire books, cut yourself, and wear all black!!"
There he goes with that Anne Gwish thing…..Yeah, she was some chick he dated for a few days; last year; until she fucked some singer of some local Goth band, then he was pissed off and eventually killed her. He still didn't let that thing go.
Anyways…
"Fine." You sighed faking a half smile.
"SO. Do you mind If I borrow some-
"Back cabinet where it always is."
"Thanks!!!"
You sighed dramatically. No more cigarettes……..They should've aborted you before it was too late. Wow, you need sleep.