Authors Note: First of all, I give credit to my best friend Carrie Talamo for coming up with the idea for this and co-writing it with me. Lylas forever girl:)
Second, I would like to state that this fanfic is a spoof of What's Eating Gilbert Grape (I love the movie, we just thought it'd be interesting to spoof it) and is meant to be absurd, funny, and, well, a spoof. I don't intend to offend anyone by writing this.
Disclaimer: I OWN THE CHARACTERS! I OWN THE MOVIE! I OWN JOHNNY DEPP! -sees a lawyer approaching- I mean... I don't own the characters, not even Gilbert. I don't own the movie. And, sadly enough, I don't own Johnny Depp. So don't sue me.
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Two silhouettes, both appearing to be young men, were conversing lightly under the tree. The taller one was sitting and picking at an apple, the other (about an inch or two shorter) was pacing around, keeping an eye on the other.
The taller one spoke. "Is that them, Gilbert?"
"God dammit, no, Arnie. Ask me one more time and I'll bust your head." snapped the man.
"Gee, Gilbert, was it something I said?"
The man scowled and said no more.
"How many more miles till they come, Gilbert?" the taller one asked.
He sported a baseball cap, ragged jeans, a green coat and beat up brown sneakers.
"I told you I'd bust your head if you asked me that again." the man said idly, leaning against against the tree, watching the other one, apparently called Arnie, walk across the road.
"Aww come on Gilbert! How many more miles?"
Gilbert sighed.
"3 million miles, Arnie." he sighed, looking down the road and throwing the abused apple at the road, causing it to smash.
"YOU KILT STEPHEN!" squealed Arnie, rushing into the road and picking up the splatted apple, lovingly caressing it and rocking it in his arms.
"It's edible, you fook-mook. We don't name edible things." Gilbert muttered. "Actually, I'm edible too, but that'd be called.. cannibalism."
"What means cannibalism?" Arnie cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy.
"It's when a bunch of hungry people eat the annoying person who calls apples Stephen and asks obvious questions." Gilbert snickered at his own wit.
Arnie looked confused.
"Whatever, Gilbert. Now, where are the trailors that look like the fat people in the mall?"
Gilbert snickered, and picked an apple, chucking it at Arnie.
Obviously, Arnie ducked and another apple was turned to a spot.
"YOU KILT SETH!" Arnie wailed, going over to the apple and stepping on it again, then looking at it expectantly.
Looking defeated he went back to the tree and sat with Gilbert.
"Rest in pieces, Seth the Joshbucket and Stephen Devereaux." sniffled Arnie sadly.
"How the hell did you manage to pronounce Stephen's last name!" demanded Gilbert, who found French-sounding words and names to be damn near impossible to pronounce. "And what is a joshbucket?" he added as an afterthought.
"A joshbucket is the same thing as a cricketdoodee, silly Gilbert!" Arnie smiled knowingly.
Gilbert stroked his chin thoughtfully. This kid's got some philosphy going on in his head, he thought. "But how did you pronounce Devin-very-socks, or whatever the.."
"Devereaux?"
"Shut UP, you fook-mook! How DARE you pronounce that when I can't?" screamed Gilbert, snapping. "FOOK-MOOK FOOK-MOOK, FOOK-MOOK, FOOK-MOOK!" he put his fingers in his ears to block out his own annoying yelling and continued chanting. "FOOK-MOOK, FOOK-MOOK, FOOK-MOOK, FOOK-MOOK.."
Thirty seconds later, Gilbert collapsed from lack of oxygen, since he was so preoccupied with shouting Fook-Mook that he completely forgot to breathe.
He awoke just as Arnie was stealing his wallet.
"Yo gimme that back Arnie!" Gilbert immediately sprang to his feet, and was just about to grab Arnie's shirt collar, when Arnie drew back and covered his eyes.
Gilbert looked over the slight hill and saw the trailors.
"Look! Look Gilbert, it's them! HAH!" Arnie clapped his hands, his face lighting up.
As the trailors drove by, Arnie, laughing like a looney person, started running after them, his arms flailing, his hat blowing off his head.
Tearing after him, Gilbert cried,
"Come back here, you fook-mook!"
"God dammit, I paid good money for that hat!" Gilbert exploded, as Arnie's hat blew into the road and was ran over by the trailors.
Gilbert had a strange urge to scream 'YOU KILLED COREY!' but he resisted and continued chasing Arnie down the road.
"EEEEEEEEEE!" Arnie screeched as Gilbert caught up with him, hopping on his back.
"God Arnie, you're getting so big, soon I won't be able to carry you no more without falling over from the weight of your fat ass." Gilbert groaned.
"No, you're getting littler. You're shrinking Gilbert!" proclaimed Arnie enthusiastically. "YOU'RE SHRINKING, SHRINKING SHRINKING SHRINKING SHRINKING SHRINKING..."
Soon enough, Arnie collapsed from saying 'shrinking' so enthusiastically that he forgot to breathe.
Laying in the grass, Arnie managed a non-looney grin.
"C'mon now, we gotsta go home." Gilbert said, pulling Arnie up and immediately wincing as the almost-18-year-old boy latched onto Gilberts back with a flying leap.
Gilbert's voice rang out clearly as a cutscene introduced his family to the readers. "That's my brother Arnie. He's almost eighteen. The doctors said he wouldn't live to see ten, but his tenth birthday's come and gone, so he should go at any time. But he doesn't, god dammit."
Suddenly, Ellen is looking into the mirror, her lips drawn back into a horselike smile as she picked her teeth.
"And that's Ellen. She just got her braces off and she can't stop smiling, which is all ok, but good God why can't she stop picking her teeth? It's fucking insanitary."
"My older sister Amy is more like a mother. She used to manage the school cafeteria over in Motley untill it burned down a year ago. They say she didn't burn it down, but I know better. The bitch can't even cook."
Then we see Amy turning over a rather leathery-looking pancake, and a sunny-side-up egg.
And there goes the stove with flames everywhere, and she douses it with an entire container of salt.
And now Momma is seen sitting on the couch, stuffing her face with crispy bacon.
"And that.. well, that's Momma. She hasn't gotten off that couch in seven years, not since my dad was hung out to dry. She just sits there, eats, and bitches at us that the bacon's not crispy enough. Fat bitch."
Poking at the leathery pancake with her fork, Momma asked, "Hey, wheres the retard?"
Gilbert snickered.
"I dunno and I couldn't care less, Momma."
"What are you doing today?" Ellen asked randomly, picking her teeth.
"Knock it off!" Gilbert snapped.
"WELL!" she yelled.
"Workin' for that fat bastard Lamson then comin' back here and givin the 'tard a bath, as always."
"Ignorant slut," Amy muttered, taking a sip of orange juice.
Ellen pouted and wiped the plaque off her fingernails and onto the table. "Just because I slept with Gilbert's boss doesn't make me a slut!" she protested.
Before anyone could reply to the ignorant slut, Arnie's high-pitched voice rang out.
"EEEEE! Say where's Arnie, say that!" he hung upside down from the tree near the window.
Momma began clapping. "Fall and bust your head!" chanted Momma.
"The neighbors will hear and think you're a murderer, Momma. Don't want to get taken away." Gilbert muttered. "Dumb ass."
He reconsidered. "Actually, chant away." he said as he realized he really didn't give a rat's ass if Momma was taken to jail. It would be an improvement, really.
"My mom's in there!" Arnie screeched to some random kids, who looked about eight.
Poking their heads up at the window, the kids laughed.
Arnie jumped down from his post and got into a really nasty fist-fight with one of the chunkier kids.
"Woo! Arnie's getting the shit beat out of him!" Ellen yelled, jumping up and down like a looney.
"Yo Gilbert, you late for work, wigga!" Amy exclaimed, checking the time.
"So! Who gives a shit?" Gilbert yelled, watching the fight.
"I do! Now get to your job you ungrateful little bastard!" Momma shrieked from the couch.
Gilbert muttered various cuss words under his breath and walked outside to the truck. He noticed Arnie and the kid fighting, and an evil smile spread over his face as he got an idea.
He walked over and broke up the fight. "I wanna see yo' Momma!" complained the other kid.
"Okay, come on." Gilbert said agreeably.
He picked up the kid and threw him through the window with great force like a human torpedo, and laughed when he heard Momma screaming. The dumbass kid probably landed on her.
Meanwhile at work, Gilbert marked can after can after can with prices, talking to himself about the fight.
"Any idea what's going on at Foodland?" Mr. Lamson, Gilbert's boss, asked randomly, unloading more boxes for Gilbert.
"How the hell should I know?" Gilbert asked, grumpy, because he'd been re-playing the fight in his mind.
"Because I want you to know, you insolent little bastard." he replied cheerily. "Ta-ta!" And with that, Gilbert's pansyriffic boss skipped off humming "I Feel Pretty" under his breath.
"Fricking fruit cake." Gilbert muttered.
A fruit cake lurking ominously at the edge of a shelf above Gilbert's head chose that moment to "coincidentally" fall off and hit Gilbert on the head.
"Ack!" Gilbert yelled, because it was particularly stale.
"God damn son of a--" but just then, the door to Lamson's grocery store opened.
In walked a middle-aged looking woman.
However old she was, she had 2 little boys, one of which who looked about 9, and the other who looked of 4.
Arnie, who had to come with Gilbert, started talking gibberish, and lead them outside.
The woman had short, curly black hair that was semi-thin.
She wore a white lacy shirt, straight legged jeans, and black boots.
Her face lit up as soon as she saw Gilbert's fruit-adorned head.
"GIL-bert!" she cried. "I haven't seen you in forever!"
"I made a 'delivery' last night." Gilbert grunted, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't be silly." she kissed him on the cheek, removed the fruitcake from his head, stowed it in her purse and walked off, grabbing things at random and hiding them in her socks.
"Fucking kleptomaniac." Gilbert said affectionately.