Chapter 3: Foiled Again!
Author's Note: First, thanks to those of you who have reviewed, and some clarification. Neither Bloo NOR myself said he was planning on "destroying the world", so I don't have a clue where THAT came from. He DID say he wanted to "take over the world and get rich". Those of you who watch the show cannot deny, that no matter how cute and funny Bloo is, that he can be extremely selfish, and loves nothing more than to be the center of attention. Like the character in the movie(and those of you who have seen "The Incredibles" will know of whom I speak), Bloo feels like one way to be guaranteed the admiration of millions is to be rich and powerful, so he just decides that he's going to go about doing this the same way as the character in the movie, but without that character's mistakes(thank you, Mskinnukufan, for noticing that Bloo had sense enough to lose the cape, LOL). Bloo wants attention, Bloo lives for attention, and as seen in the episode "Bloo Done It", cannot stand for someone else to take attention away from HIM. He's not "evil" as such, but very, very self-centered most of the time, and frequently displays a complete lack of regard for the feelings of others(case in point, "Eddie Monster), though occasionally his conscience DOES get ahold of him. Bloo will also go to great lengths to get even with someone or prove his point, as seen in "Everyone Knows It's Bendy", where he practically destroys the house in order to catch Bendy stealing a cookie! He just usually ends up having to learn things the hard way, unfortunately.
Once again, I own none of the characters on "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends"; they belong to Cartoon Network. Right now, I own several snakes, tarantulas, Catahoula Leopard Dogs, and a car with a busted starter switch, so that's all anyone who sues me will collect on.
Three O'clock, Friday afternoon, and, as was the case every day at this time, the Foster's mansion received a visitor. Well, actually, he was more like family than mere company. As was his daily routine, per agreement with Madame Foster, the elderly owner of the establishment, an eight-year-old boy with dark-brown, somewhat tousled hair walked briskly up the walkway to the large oaken front doors, as if he had an important appointment, which in fact, he did. The boy's name was Mac, and he happened to have created the small being named Blooregard Q. Kazoo, or "Bloo", for short, when he was only three years old. His mother had recently decided, however, that Mac was too old for an Imaginary Friend (though it probably had had more to do with her simply having enough of Bloo's shenanigans), and Mac was forced to find another home for his little creation. That place had turned out to be within his very hometown, not far from the school he attended, and as per the agreement with the home's owner, all Mac had to do was visit Bloo each day at three O'clock in the afternoon, and Bloo would not be put up for adoption.
Mac never knew what to expect when he arrived each day to visit his Imaginary Friend. This was due in no small part to Bloo's mercurial nature, and the fact that he almost ALWAYS had some sort of scheme going on. Like a good parent, Mac tried his best to steer his "child" in the right direction, but like many a real parent, he often found his efforts to have been in vain, since personality-wise, he and Bloo were almost polar opposites.
Today would prove no exception to the "don't know what to expect" rule, as the eight-year-old was met not by one of the Imaginary Friends at the door, but by one of only two other human faces regularly seen here, Frances Foster, and she didn't look exactly pleased.
"Hi, Frankie, what's up?" the boy greeted the young woman.
"'Afternoon, Mac…look, we gotta talk" the red-head stated matter-of-factly.
Mac's cheerful mood abated somewhat; young as he was, he knew that when any adult started out a conversation with those particular words, this was not a good thing. And furthermore, he knew EXACTLY what it had to involve, or rather, WHO it had to involve.
"What's he done NOW?" Mac questioned with a sigh, knowing he shouldn't be surprised that his visit would start off this way. It wasn't like this was the first time this had happened, after all.
"Well, you know that DVD you brought over earlier this week, The Incredibles or whatever? Bloo apparently got the idea from that to become some sort of Super Evil Genius inventor, or at least I think that's what he's calling himself now. Big problem is, he was taking things that didn't belong to him to make this..this…robot-looking thing in the closet, of all places! He took one of Mr. Herriman's filing cabinets from his office-I have NO idea how he got it up to his room-plus MY jumper cables, and a bunch of other stuff. I know it probably won't do any more good than all the other talks you've had with him, but seriously, Mac, stealing is an offense that CAN get him kicked outa here, so if you don't mind…"
"Sure, Frankie, but like you said, it probably won't do any good. It's like everything I say goes in one ear and out the other!" replied Mac, wincing inwardly at his own words, due to the number of times his own mother had said the same thing about him. This must be that "Parent's Curse" he'd heard about, the one where the parent says to the kid, "I hope when you're grown you have a kid who's JUST as bad as YOU are!" Problem was, Mac was experiencing this reality at the age of EIGHT; something just didn't seem fair here.
Entering Bloo's room, Mac was to find him "interrogating" two of his, uhm, "Evil Genius Henchmen", actually two of his three roommates, an Imaginary Friend known as "Eduardo", a hulking, bull-like beast with a fearsome appearance, shaggy purple fur, massive horns and fangs, and a skull belt buckle, who had the demeanor of a four-year-old. Fierce-looking or not, Eduardo had been a massive failure as a protector to his creator, since the immense beast was timid and shy to a fault. He was also afraid of many, many things, not the least of which was loud noises or shouting, and he was literally trembling now under Bloo's "interrogation". The other Imaginary Friend, an even more bizarre-looking concoction of an exotic bird, a palm tree, and a crashed airplane, who went by the name of "Coco", since this was the only thing she could say, and who resembled something that should be worn by someone at a Jimmy Buffett concert, stared blankly. It was hard to tell if Coco was simply ignoring Bloo, or just didn't comprehend what he was going on about.
"Oh, good, you're here! You can help me find out which one of my henchmen sold me out to the Enemy!" shouted Bloo to Mac as his creator walked in.
"They are NOT your "henchmen", Bloo, and Frankie is not the "Enemy", either. She wanted me to talk to you, and tell you to stop all this nonsense about being an Evil Genius. Sheesh, I can't even let you watch one of my DVD's without you getting all carried away!"
"Si, Senior Mac, I not even know what a henchman is!" the still-trembling Eduardo offered in his "Spanglish" accent.
"CO co-co!"
"Fine! Fake ignorance if you will, but I SHALL find out who the guilty party is, and when I DO…I'll…I'll…think of something REALLY nasty, like, uh, I dunno, lockin' 'em in the room with Duchess or something!"
"Ooooh, that is BAD! I would not want to be whoever it is Azul is mad with if he does THAT!" Eduardo cringed even more.
Coco's expression had begun to get a bit annoyed by this point. "Co co CO, co?" she asked of her inquisitor.
Bloo responded irritably, "Yes, you can go now! But be warned, this is far from over! I'll be keeping my eyes on BOTH of you!"
"Give it a rest, Bloo! They aren't your 'henchmen', and YOU aren't some 'Evil Genius' You're not even a REGULAR genius!" admonished Mac, shaking his head as the other two Friends slipped out of the room, casting backwards glances at their small blue roommate as they exited.
"Oh, and what would YOOOUU know about being a genius, HUH?"
"Well, I make good grades…wait, is THAT Frankie's t-shirt you're wearing? You're wearing a GIRL'S t-shirt, and questioning MY intelligence?"
"Noooo, it's MY Evil Genius costume, but you wouldn't know…HEY, stop tryin' to change the subject!"
"It IS Frankie's t-shirt, isn't it? Only you painted that big white "B" on the front! Why don't you go ahead and just paint a big "S" right after it, since you're takin' it this far?"
"Because then I would be going around with a big…oh, I get it; you're tryin' to be a comedian, now, huh? Well, I'm not laughin', Mr. Not-a-Genius!"
Before the exasperated Mac could respond, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Turning towards the entrance to the room, Mac called out for the person on the other side to come in, hoping he would at least have someone to back him up in this little argument. The door swung open, and in walked Bloo's third roommate, Wilt, having to duck his head as he crossed the room's threshold.
"Oh, hi, Mac! How's it goin'?" Wilt inquired in his usual friendly manner, then quickly turned his attention to Mac's companion without even waiting for a reply from Mac.
"You know, Bloo, you coulda just asked me to borrow that pail when I got through with it. I would have even rinsed it out for you so our closet wouldn't smell like Mr. Clean, instead of you sneakin' and just TAKIN' it like that! I'm sorry, but that is NOT OK!"
Bloo started to respond in his own defense. "I did not just 'sneak and take' your precious bucket, I…wait a minute! Hold the presses…it was YOU, wasn't it?" His voice rose into that fingernails-on-a-blackboard screech once again. "YOU were the dirty, no-good traitor of a henchman who ratted me out, weren't you?"
Still speaking in his usual soft, calm tone, Wilt responded with a slight shrug, "Sorry, but I DID have to wash down the kitchen, and I needed that pail to do it. When I found it was missing, I had to let Frankie know, and when I mentioned that I'd seen you comin' up here with some oven mitts, we both sorta put two and two together and…"
"I KNEW IT! I KNEW I never shoulda trusted some 'goody-two-socks' like YOU in the first place! Some Evil Genius henchman YOU are! You were in it with HER all along! I hope you know that I have devised the most insidious punishment for traitors like you!"
With the slightest shake of his head, and the slightest tilt of what passed as a right eyebrow, Wilt managed to convey his utmost contempt for this latest of Bloo's schemes, and then, in characteristic Wilt style, he started out his response by apologizing for it.
"I'm sorry, Bloo, but I don't remember signin' up to be an 'Evil Genius henchman' in the first place! I'm just tellin' you to ASK me before you take something, OK?"
Bloo just stood and glowered at him, arms folded over the big white "B: on his, er, rather, Frankie's, black t-shirt. His brain raced furiously to come up with something really witty and clever, but seemed to have hit a roadblock in the Path of Witty Comebacks. It was Mac who finally broke the silence.
"Well, THIS has been a wasted afternoon. If you insist on this Evil Genius get-up, Bloo, I might as well go on home. I think I would rather put up with an Evil Dumb Bully of a brother than an Evil Genius Imaginary Friend! See you later, hopefully when you've come to your senses!" With that, Mac turned and headed for the door, with Wilt towering close behind. Bloo could hear their conversation as they walked down the hallway, toward the stairs that led to the downstairs foyer.
"You know, Wilt, sometimes I keep hoping that your sensibility will rub off on him, with you being his roommate and all, but I just don't know…"
"I know what you mean, Mac, but sometimes even I don't know what to think…"
As their voices faded away with distance, Bloo stood, arms folded defiantly, lips pursed tightly together. At last, he spoke out, to no one in particular. "FINE! BE that way, then! When I get rich off my inventions, see if I share any of that untold wealth with ANY of you, especially with a TRAITOR! This isn't over yet, Mr. I'm-So-Perfect, Is-That-OK! You and Miss-I'm-the-Boss-of-the-World are gonna RUE the day you crossed ME, for I am BLOO, your nemesis and…and…note to self, get dictionary and look up what 'nemesis' means!"