The bathtub was littered with limbs, the sink stained with blood. The creator of this mess was nowhere to be seen. Was he sleeping? No. Was he dead? Of course not. He was merely on a much needed vacation. Not the sort of vacation we might take, for his mind did not work that way. It was a rather strange vacation. It wasn't expensive, it wasn't far away. Actually, it was but one house over.
Some might think it strange that a man such as Johnny would be visiting a little boy. He was doing nothing to harm the little one, well, not physically. Mental scarring was more Johnny's thing. Of course he didn't mean to do that to poor little Squee. It was just something that happened. It seemed to happen around most of the people that Johnny met. But they were all idiots anyway.
Johnny was strange by most people's standards. Not by his own, but then again, his own standards were horribly warped. In his book, killing was not wrong, but something that had to be done. It was his job to rid the world of assholes. And there were so many of them! It was an ongoing job for Johnny, and a thankless one at that. Every time he killed an asshole off, three more took its place.
It wasn't really his fault he was this way. It wasn't God or the Devil's either. It was just the way he was. Working to rid the world of its idiots, working to fight through his own insanity.
But none of that mattered now. He was on vacation after all. This was the one time of the year in which he could be free of those thoughts. Those evil doughboys, the killer instinct, the impending doom. Today he would take a break, and visit Squee.
All Squee could do was poke around his house. His mom didn't care, nor did his father. They were always telling him how he ruined their lives, but that was only when they talked to him. At one point his mother thought he had graduated from school. He was always praying to Mr. or Mrs. God, hoping that he or she would make his parents happy. Somehow he doubted that they would ever be happy. This thought made him sad.
Slowly he made his way around the kitchen, in hopes of finding some cereal. He approached the cabinet, but had to stand on his tip toes to see inside. The food was scarce; his mom hadn't been shopping in a while. All that there was was some pickled toast, canned beets, a packet of Ramen Noodles, and luckily for him, a box of Cocoa Chunks that were God knows how old. A small grin came to his face, and he jumped up and down over and over to try and get it.
"Shmee!" Squee cried out, "Help me!"
"What's that Shmee?" answered a voice. "Oh no, I'll get it."
Slowly Squee turned to see who the voice belonged to, and it was certainly not Shmee. "Squee!" He chirped. It was not a happy chirp; it was a chirp of terror. Squee was quite frightened of this crazy neighbor man. He backed away slowly, but ran into the cabinet. "Squee…" he said again.
Ever since this crazy neighbor man had come into Squee's house screaming for Baktine. Squee thought it would all be over after the crazy neighbor man left, but it wasn't over. Nny had come back, quite often in fact. He seemed to find a friend in poor little Squee, but Squee saw it quite differently. He saw Nny as one of those people that your parents, if they loved you, told you to stay away from. Unfortunately, he was the only sort of parental figure that he had.
Meanwhile, as Squee was backing into the cabinet, Johnny was reaching over him for the Cocoa Chunks and the Pickled Toast.
"So little Squee, where do you keep the bowls? Oh, wait, never you mind, I'll find them." After saying this, he went over to a sad looking cabinet above the sink. The paint was peeling off, and the wood was showing through. Quickly, he flung open the doors, and looked around inside. A lone spider was there, but there were no bowls. Johnny sighed. What was the world coming to? Nothing ever went right for him, not even on his vacation!
"That's it…" He muttered. "It's all gonna end tonight…"
Squee looked up at Johnny. What was he talking about? He may have been the crazy neighbor man, but he was also a person. No matter how many times he had scarred Squee for life, he still was alive. But when he said 'It's all gonna end tonight' Squee was worried. It didn't occur to him and his small child's mind, that Nny would actually harm himself. The signs simply didn't show, not now. It also confused him that he was overreacting over not being able to find a bowl.
"It's not a big deal Mr. Nny." Squee said quietly. "I'll eat it out of the box."
Johnny thought for a moment, putting his finger to his chin, a small smile on his face. "You could do that…" Yes, Squee could most definitely do that. All he would need is a spoon, and some milk. Johnny rushed to the refrigerator, and pulled open the door.
Sure enough, there was milk, but it had long since spoiled. The green liquid and lumpy mess had been in the carton for God knows how long. Unfortunately, Johnny didn't know this until he took a drink. "Pa-tew!" he spat. Abruptly, he poured the rest of the milk down the sink. 'Too bad it didn't poison me…' he thought bitterly. 'At least then I would have some rest…'
"What kind of people don't have milk!" Not that Johnny particularly liked milk, but it was better than other types of liquids. But the fact that this poor little child could not have milk with his cereal made him furious. He threw the carton on the floor, and started pacing around the kitchen. Pulling open drawers, and dropping them on the floor. Squee recoiled in terror, as the Crazy Neighbor Man tore through his kitchen, looking for something that didn't seem to be there. That something was spoons, and while Squee shook in the corner, Johnny was looking through everything to find just one of these not-so-rare household items.
Finally after five minutes of tearing though the kitchen, he found a spoon. By that time, Squee was truly frightened. Why was Nny doing this? What was wrong?
"Mr. Nny?" Squee asked quietly from the corner. "Are you ok?"
Johnny was breathing heavily, he was angry. Poor Squee had to see him this way. He wasn't dangerous around Squee, for he thought the little child was interesting, he felt pity for the young boy. He could see they were alike in many ways. Not that that was a good thing, for look at Johnny now. He was going bezerk over a spoon, milk, and a bowl. But it wasn't the fact that these things were not there, it was the fact that these things were not there for Squee.
How could a parent not care for their child? It was quite obvious that Squee had not been cared for in a while. Though he was clean, and looked relatively O.K. (for someone who had just been scared out of his wits) Squee was a rather neglected little kid.
He hugged Shmee tighter, burying his face in the stuffed bear. He waited for Johnny's answer.
In response to Squee, Johnny sat on the floor, taking deep breaths. "I'm O.K. Squee…" he muttered. "But this situation makes me all frowny…" He blew a chunk of black hair out of his eyes. He blew out another breath, and smiled. The smile was short lived however, when he saw what time it was. "Twelve-thirty A.M.!" he shouted. "That commercial where the entire family gets diarrhea is on!" Johnny jumped up, and ran for the window. He didn't stop to open it; he just jumped out of it.
There was a short drop to the ground, roughly five feet. He hit the ground, rolled, and got up. Johnny then ran all the way back to Number 777.