Hey everyone! Sean here! Me and Ran have been discussing about his life and how we can post something without ruining the surprise. So we decided that talking about something closer to….the event….wouldn't spoil anything you might already know. So, we'd like to introduce you to the final segment (not final story, there's still two pieces, see Bio) of Randall's life story.

This takes place when Randall's Top Scarer, Sullivan's Trainer, and when his Top Scarer title was stolen away from him. This is probably one of the most important parts of Randall's life, as it's nearly a year before the movie. Although we're both a little shaky on the years, so bear with us….(Oh! (NS) still means "Next Scene")

Oh! Unlike Randall's other past stories, this one will feature the other monster's thoughts. Yes, this story focuses on Randall, but for brief parts, you'll see it. Although, remember this is proposed, hey…Randall's no mind reader . Though I am writing it, it is from Randall, like Hockey Days .

Enjoy the time of Randall's good life….and…when it falls….

Randall's Note: You may have all noticed I've focused on my life story. I'm sure your all more interested in what happened to me than….what had happened to me afterward. So, I…..We….decided to post this. I want to assure you my memory is fuzzy at parts, of course yours would be two if you had a slit in your head. Anyway. Somewhat, enjoy, and you'll all see what happened to me….some of which….nobody else had…..enjoy. Cool, Pitbulllady, Light Rises….I hope you enjoy my…."close" past.

Randall's Trainer Days

Chapter 1 Randall The Top Scarer

Two years?

Is that all it's been. He thought it was longer than that. Or maybe shorter in terms of forgetting. No. He didn't want to forget. Even if he wanted to…..he couldn't. He had to go alone now, and doing well so far. But he didn't like it.

Being alone. Alone. It seemed to follow him to everywhere he went. He had it before, but now it seemed to be a sort of welcome.

At least that's what Randall thought.

(NS)

The monster looked out through the glass window of the Quick Stop Café. He held a small cup off coffee in his top hands, his bottom set placed together. Nothing seemed to break what he concentrated on.

His hands were firm, each one seeming to have not moved for hours. His tail stayed on the ground, wondering why it's owner hadn't moved. His scales only reflected little of the sun, as an overhead neon sign was just outside. His emerald eyes weren't seeming to be set on anything in particular. Just, looking out at everything.

One could say he looked like a prisoner. Looking out of his cell window and watching as people with free and happy lives to live. Watching as the world passed by him as if he was forgotten. So far, Randall didn't really care. But so far….

He broke his concentration, setting his left hand down on the table and his right one holding onto the cup handle and bringing it's base to meet the table. His eyes looked over the scene, reminding him where he was in his absence at that time.

Right. A diner. Na. Café. Several tan-yellow cushioned seats, white tables. The walls were blue and the floor was checkerboard black and white. There were those circular top chairs that you would find in bars, though this place was nowhere near like a bar. Then again, it wasn't really a family place, which is one of the reasons Randall came here for breakfast.

He saw a couple who knew him, reputation only of course, who gave a slight wave. The reply was only a slight open of the mouth, nearly a smile from Randall. They turned around, the male's shoulder's slightly shaking, and Randall knew he was probably smiling, or laughing, but Randall didn't care.

He looked down at the coffee cup in front of him, starring down into the swirling pool of brown, hot steamy goodness. But his senses didn't care, they just alerted him that was something to consume in front of him.

Randall usually went straight to the company when he was first starting. He stayed late too and just got what he needed from the company itself. But nowadays, he didn't have to rush so much.

Randall took a slight sip from the cup, it was getting colder now, setting it's end in contact with his other hand. His attention turned back outside, thinking of everything that had happened. In the time he had spent in the company, he had finally made it. Early in his career in fact that he had made such progress.

Randall half smiled to himself. Top Scarer. Boy. Was THAT an honor. It was probably the best….no….one…..one of the best times of his life. Being the best in front of everyone….showing he truly made something of himself.

Oh. He remembered. Those news crews wouldn't get off his tail, sometimes literally. The media was always looking into stories like that, but Randall didn't care. It was just something that would blow by. Of course, they still bugged him every now and then, but Randall knew when and when not to talk about something.

More media time meant he could show all those that said he wouldn't be something how big of a success he was. The Top Scarer of the world's main scream collection industry….what could be better?

Top Scarer. It was more than just a job position. It was kind of a label. To Randall, it was a name that meant something to him. Top. Being the best and the greatest of all those around them. Scarer. The most wanted and admired job that every little monster wanted to be. Put them together, and you were important. Guess that's what it was. It always reminded Randall that he was something important. Someone that everyone notices somehow or another. Still…..that was only work.

Randall's smile fell, watching as monsters went by of all shapes and sizes. Sure, they lived simple lives. They woke up, clocked into work, did what they were trained to do, get a paycheck, and go home to resume their real lives.

The first parts were easy for Randall. It's the "real life" part that got to him. When he is in the company, when he is a scarer….he felt like his outside life didn't really much matter anymore. Sure. It was still there, but his focus was being, just that. A scarer. A scarer with a job to do.

But then again, "real life".

Randall shook his head, looking forward at the empty seat in front of him. He didn't have time to think, he had to get to work.

Taking down the coffee in one gulp, he clanged the cup on the tables, dropping the cost down on the table as he got out.

(NS)

Randall stood in front of the company's finely golden rimmed, not really gold actually, door. It was always the same. He looked to his left at the plaque that was actually quite hard to miss, having to take up nearly the entire part of the wall.

"We Scare Because We Care".

Randall rolled his eyes. What did that even mean? Sure, they scare for energy, and in turn they care for the community by providing that energy. But still, it's not like they care, they still charge ya for it.

He pushed the door open, heading into the lobby. He was greeted by a few employees as he came in. Just fellow Scarers, some that don't even work on his floor, some not even on it's floor.

His main attention, giving him a smirk, was the receptionist desk just ahead.

(NS)

"Yeah….yes…hold on…umm…..yeah uh…err…".

Celia Mae.

Randall knew he quiet well, not personally of course, but they do at least make contact sometimes. Celia was only issued in only a few weeks ago. If Randall remembered right, it was probably a few short months after he became famous.

Of course, Celia wasn't really well for the job. She was good with other people, which a receptionist's prime attribute would be. Still, there was probably one real reason she wanted to get into the company.

Randall knew first hand that Celia and a certain round, obtuse, green zit had a bit of a girl-boy friend relationship. That, to him, was the main reason she wanted to work at Monsters Inc. Of course, there was something Randall always reminded himself.

If it wasn't for him, Celia probably wouldn't have gotten the job.

Yeah, he remembered. He always had at least a little influence when it came to new employees. He just tipped the employer's views in Celia's favor, so she would get the job. Randall didn't know exactly why he did it. He always thought it might be considered a moral or peace. Plus…..she would get that green urchin off his back one way or another….

(NS)

Celia finally placed the last of the "urgent" calls down, placing the phone on the receiver and sighing with relief and holding her head with a hand, tentacle. It was a gift when calls didn't come in, almost like a miracle. Of course, Celia always knew there were reasons.

"How's the job?".

Celia looked up, seeing Randall in front of the desk, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Celia really didn't think that much of Randall, as in she didn't really have a set opinion on him. Mike always told her of Randall being a jerk, snot, stuck up, racing idiotic….and by then she told him to stop. Then again, he wasn't that bad. Although he was Top Scarer, Celia didn't really think much of the title, Randall was Randall, and a title didn't change that. At least…that's what she thought.

"Uhh….I've been answering phones all day…." She replied, shaking her head. Randall smirked. "You were made for this job" he snickered. She shook her head, looking over the phones that had bombarded her but had settled down in a current truce.

Randall hopped up to the desk, crossing his bottom set on it's top. "Honestly….the one receptionist that gets to take the Lobby…..you don't know how lucky you are….how VERY….lucky you are….". He chuckled, getting one from Celia as well.

Seriously, Celia didn't dislike Randall. He wasn't knew to the company, he knew it probably better than anyone here, besides Waternoose of course. He could be a bit of an annoyance at times….but he is really energetic. Probably the young scarer out of the company. Maybe that's why he was always full of this energy and that he still had allot to learn. To her, he was just another employee, though one she knew from experience…but not from Mike.

She turned around, looking back at him. "Yeah…well….if I'm so lucky…." She started, bending over and looking for something under the desk. "Celia COME ON…you think a receptionist job is hard?" Randall exaggerated. Celia came back up, placing a box half the size of a shopping cart on the desk.

"Ah heh heh…" Randall mumbled, half smiling. "All these are memos I had to copy down by hand….and this is just a day and this morning….." she said, sounding exhausted, emphasizing with wiping her forehead, her head snakes taking a few huffing breaths.

Randall stood there for a moment. Comebacks were something he needed at the moment, but hadn't prepared.

"Uhh heh…well…these…these are small.." he said, picking a sheet at random with his top hands. "See there…" he started, half turning to realize that it was a fax paper. His bottom hands caught it before it jumped out of the box. Celia laughed at seeing Randall look like a pretzel. He growled, pushing the paper back into the box.

"See?" she said, smiling. Randall rolled his eyes, looking around to see nobody had noticed the event. "So?". He looked back to Celia. "So….what?". It was Celia's turn to roll her eyes. "I know you didn't come here just to talk to me…..".

Randall grinned, pushing the box aside a bit to replace his hands on the desk. "What? Can't the Top Scarer come and have an engaging conversation?" he asked. Celia eyed him. Randall was slightly appalled when anyone assumed something.

"Yeah…..you just think what you want Celia…" he said, heading over to the hall leading to the Scarefloors. She folded her arms, watching him as he stopped before he went inside. "Oh…" he started, looking over at her. He grinned, point to one of the phones from far off. "By the way your on hold….".

"WHAT!". Celia reached for the phone he had pointed toward, fiddling it with a few seconds before finally getting it, all the while Randall chuckling as he went into the hallway.

Celia watched him as he went off, shaking her head, but with a smile, he snakes looking at each other and nodding

(NS)

Randall started into his floor, taking a peek in the Dispatch Office as he did, noticing Roz giving out some folders to Charles Snitch, no comments. He turned back into the floor, getting a few talk flares from a few of the other Scarers and some of their assistants. It was commonplace for him.

"Yeah yeah…woah!". He took a few steps back, the wranglers coming up with the door shredder. Randall rolled his eyes, accompanied by an angry sigh, as Needleman and Smitty came in front of him.

"What is it?" Randall asked, annoyed. "Mr…Mr. Boggs c…can we get your autograph?" Smitty asked, gittered. Randall heaved. "Ugh…you ask me every single day and you always don't….". Needleman fingered around the shredder, pulling out a piece of paper from the drop out. He placed it in Randall's bottom right hand, which he looked over. It was just a ripped cover off of Scarer Weekly Magazine. It was specifically for Scarers and the companies. Randall was on the cover.

"Ok ok ok fine….if it'll get you outta my scales…pen?" he asked. Needleman looked over at Smitty, who gave the same. Randall's eyes shifted between the two, getting it exactly. "Uhh…Smitty'll get one Mr. Boggs" Needleman said, pushing Smitty past Randall. "Oh no….Needleman'll get it…" Smitty replied, switching around and pushing Needleman.

Randall placed the cover under his arm, holding his top right in a knuckle to his side, watching as Smitty and Needleman took turns pushing each other out the floor. He chuckled when they were out of earshot. He turned around and started for his station, remembering the cover and taking a look at it.

Ever since he took on Top Scarer, magazines, advertising, and various other professions had wanted his face on something. Most paid him. The feeling that it was happening most days almost made it like an increase in pay.

He didn't want to recall back, he had something he had to take care off. Looking back up, he saw Fungus over at his desk, looking over the folders for the kids of the day. "Hey Fungus…" he said, doing a gunshot point, which Fungus merely shrugged off, but he kept a smile.

"So…what's up for me today…" Randall asked, placing the cover to the side, standing beside Fungus to look over the folders. "Some kids from Russia…" he said, a bit of a sigh. Randall looked his assistant over.

Randall knew Fungus for a couple years. They had been…..somewhat….of a degree of friends. Of course, ever since their fight in High School, Randall had lost contact with him. When Fungus became his assistant, Randall was shocked to reunite with him. But he wasn't sure Fungus felt the same way. Still….Randall always wanted to believe Fungus was at least a friend.

Fungus on the other hand….

"Oh come on…what's wrong with you?" Randall asked, turning around and hopping to "sit" on the desk. He placed his hands on the desk to keep himself stable as he leaned back slightly. Fungus took off his glasses for a second, rubbing his eyes and looking back at Randall.

"Ohh….I've…just been chased by a few cameras….". "Ohh…" Randall replied, nodding his head. Just like before…they both had to deal with the constant hammering of the city's media. While Randall would get asked the usual questions ANY successful reptile, as low as the rate is, considering Randall was probably the only one, would take. Fungus would get much of the same, asking things like how it was to work with a reptilian Scarer or are there any secrets to success he's told him, things like that. Randall was just annoyed by it most of the time, slightly angered. Fungus….probably the same….but not exactly toward the media….

"Oh…sorry Fungus….you know how they are….heh…vultures…." Randall said, looking down at his seemingly exhausted assistant. Fungus re-adjusted his glasses, sighing and starring at the folders, nodding with a hand to his head.

Randall noticed that Fungus seemed slightly uncomfortable for some reason. His fronds slightly went down, thinking a few thoughts of Fungus having similar troubles he did, though not to a grand extent.

"Umm…." Randall started, biting his lip. He hopped off the table, landing beside Fungus. Turning around, he placed a hand on his shoulder. "Uh listen…how about I get you something from one of the vending machines…I have something I need to do near there anyway….ok?" Randall offered. Fungus nodded, still holding his head, left hand to his side.

Randall smiled, at least something he could do. "Ok…see you when we're near starting up…" he said, turning and heading out. Fungus watched as he did, shaking his head and heaving out a gittered sigh.

Well there's the first part for all of you. You get a little thought work from Randall, as well as Celia and Fungus. Next chapter will be for Sullivan, and maybe how Randall acts when he's home…..

Enjoy, and tell me and Ran what you think. Oh…and don't comment on the years, we're still shaky on those.