By: Nymbis
Summary: Stanton is asked to say a few words at Wally the Raccoon's funeral.
AN: This is a plot bunny. I got the idea when my friend freaked out because I didn't care that her fish of 2.3 hours had died. I'm heartless. Sue me. (Actually, Lynne, please don't sue me…you da woman!)
Disclaimer: I do not own the various things mentioned in this. Haha! Try and get me on that one!
-0-
Stanton was crashed on his couch, trying to ignore the skull-splitting headache he was currently suffering from. Hours and hours of watching Karyl and Tymmie perfect various circus acts such as learning to eat fire and juggle chainsaws had put him a little on edge, and all he wanted was a few moments of tranquility.
He absently searched for the remote, found it, and turned on the television.
Documentary. Pass.
Click.
America's Next Top Model. Heh.
Click.
ER reruns. Pass. He hadn't trust hospitals since that unfortunate 'leeching' experience in the middle-ages.
Click.
TRL. Pass. Not nearly enough evil. Plus if he had to watch one more My Chemical Romance or Kelly Clarkson music video he would have to heave.
Click.
Ooooh! Teen Titans!
After Stanton had finally found his quality television program of choice, he turned up the volume and found himself a nice non-alcoholic beer. Alcohol is bad, kids! Never drink and drive! And began munching on a bowl of stale Cheetos.
"Ahhh…." He sighed contently, getting into relaxation mode.
Just then, as the Titans were about to spring into action, he heard a muffled, computerized rendition of Beethoven's classic 'Fur Elise.' He searched frantically in his rear pocket, trying to dig out his small cell phone. Ah…there it was. He looked on the little screen to see 'BootyGal Calling…BootyGal Calling…'. He smiled and immediately answered.
"Serena pooh-bear! I've missed you!"
There was a strange, hitching noise on the other end, and Stanton began to feel vague tendencies of his 'Gritty Anti-Hero' persona coming into effect, "Are you under attack?"
The hitching noise became louder, and his concern increased.
"I'll come over and save you right away!" He declared, standing up quickly, knocking over his precious Cheetos all over the white carpet. Oh, he was going to catch hell from Murray for that.
"WWWWALLLLLYYYYYYY!" Came a shrieking sound, and Stanton flinched in pain as his eardrums began to bleed.
"Waaallllllyyyyy?" Stanton asked, not fully understanding.
The noise quieted and was replaced by an obviously hysterical ranting, "I fed him, and gave him water, and, and his favorite squeaky toy before I left," She stammered, "But, when I got home he-" Her voice progressed into the shrieking phase once again, "He was belly up clutching the pillow I made him for Christmas!" Her words became rushed and combined together, "At first I thought he was sleeping, so I started talking to him like I usually do," Her voice cracked, "But he never answered back! He never answered back, Stanton!"
"I'm, uh, sorry?" He comforted…kind of.
"And now, he's all alone! Stuffed into a spare shoebox I found in the closet!" She was sobbing now, "I put him in the pink sweater I knit for his birthday! He looked so…so…oh god! IT HAD A MATCHING HAT!" She was beginning to hyperventilate.
"Serena, honey, um, calm down please." Stanton requested.
"Calm down? CALM DOWN! How can I CALM DOWN when my bestest friend in the whole world died this morning by choking on an arbitrary bit of twine?"
Stanton bit his lip and tried hard not to laugh, come on, arbitrary bit of twine?
Suddenly, enlightenment dawned upon him, "Are you talking about your raccoon?"
"Of course I'm talking about my raccoon!" She began to rant again, "I found my scrapbook of our adventures under my bed!" He could hear the sound of a photo album being opened, "Here's me and Wally at the beach, here's me and Wally at the park…look at him, frolicking with all his little raccoon friends! HE WAS SO HAPPY THEN!" He could hear her sniffle loudly, "He will never be able to play with little raccoon friends again! Why? BECAUSE HE'S STONE-COLD DEAD! THAT'S WHY!"
Stanton sighed and plopped down on the couch. He ran a hand through his gorgeous, honeycombed locks. He needed to solve this problem quickly; an uproarious Serena was not a Serena he was used to dealing with. Plus, he was missing out on vital plot points for Teen Titans.
Unexpectedly, inspiration hit him, "Serena, I have an idea."
Her violent weepage was halted for a moment, "An idea for what?" She croaked.
"An idea to preserve Wally's memory forever. How about we give Wally a funeral?" He suggested gently.
"You would do that for me!" She cried, "Oh, Wally will appreciate this oh-so much! He's smiling down on you from Raccoon Heaven!"
"Uh…sure…" He trailed off, "I'll come over to help you bury him, does that sound good?"
"I knew I loved you for a reason other than your gorgeous honeycombed locks!" She exclaimed, hanging up the phone.
Stanton looked at the phone in amazement, had she just said what he thought she said?
He groaned, and stood up, brushing stray Cheeto crumbs onto the no longer pristine white carpet, and he headed out the door.
As he walked outside towards his car, the first thing he saw was Karyl standing behind a lighted cannon that's barrel looked like it could fit a Tymmie-sized man.
"Stanton! Look at our new circus trick!" Karyl shouted across the front yard.
"No thanks, I've got stuff I have to do!" He yelled back, unlocking his car and opening the door. As a last second thought he turned around, "If Murray asks, you were the one eating Cheetos in the living room!"
Karyl rose an eyebrow in confusion, "Uh, ok!" He said, plugging his ears as the fuse on the cannon dwindled down.
Stanton just shook his head and drove off, those silly kids and their childish antics.
-o-
As soon as he pulled into the driveway, Serena bombarded him.
She looked totally distraught, her eyes were bloodshot and she was clad entirely in black, even a black lace veil over her head. On her right arm she had a black armband with a caricature of the lovable raccoon.
"We're so glad you came!" She exclaimed, pressing herself against his windshield as soon as he had stopped the car.
Stanton got out of the car quickly, and gently pried her off of his newly cleaned windshield. "We're?" He asked.
"Me and Wally!" Her eyes narrowed, "Don't tell me you forgot about him already!"
Stanton put his arms up in defense, "No, no. How could I forget about Warren?"
"Wally!"
"Right, Waldo."
Serena overlooked the last name mistake, and returned to her somber attitude, "I got these for you." She said as she handed him an armband and an unlit white taper candle. "I thought a candlelight vigil was most appropriate." She was beginning to cry again, "Wally did always love fire!"
Stanton physically restrained himself from rolling his eyes and put on the armband.
"Come on, I'll lead you to him." She whispered, signaling with her hand as she mysteriously loomed off into the distance.
"Ok." Stanton said simply, wondering if Robin and his rag-tag team of pre-adolescent super heroes had finally caught up to Slade yet.
Serena led him to the peaceful backyard, where there was a perfect, raccoon-sized, hole dug already. Beside that, there was the shoebox. Stanton tried hard not to notice the tiny, petrified paw that had popped out of it and was now stiff due to rigor mortis.
"I thought that an open casket would provide the most closure." She said, gently lifting the lid up off of the shoebox.
Stanton recoiled in terror, as the furry little thing seemed to pop out of it with spring-like action. All four of its paws were straight up in the air, and its tongue was lolling out of one side of its mouth. It was clad in a ridiculously horrid pink sweater and matching hat, and flies were beginning to buzz around it. Stanton also noticed that two grapes had been placed over its eyes. And sure enough, in one of its little creepy claws, the raccoon was clutching a hand-made pillow with a small reindeer on it.
Oh ya, Serena was definitely starting to creep him out.
She took out a Bic lighter from her pocket and lit the candles, and the two stood on either side of the dead raccoon. She cleared her throat and placed a few dandelions on the shoebox.
"You were my best friend in to whole world. I MISS YOU SO MUCH!" She cried, flinging herself against the now roadkill.
Stanton thought it best to give them a moment alone, so he turned around.
"Could you-? Could you say a few words?" He heard weakly from behind him.
He turned around again to face them.
"It would, mean a lot, to Wally." She sobbed.
"Uh, sure I will cupcake sugar muffin." Stanton said, kneeling down respectively in front of the half-rotting carcass.
What the hell do you say to a dead raccoon?
"He was an excellent rodent." He began. "Brave in times of danger, and compassionate in times of…um…compassion. Wally was always kind to his fellow raccoon, always sharing his precious grapes among them." He paused, trying to think of more bull shit to say, "He was a beautiful creature, symbolic of the true loveliness of nature."
Serena began to girlishly swoon, moved by the sheer sincerity in Stanton's words.
"His favorite pastime was wearing the disgusting, uh, disgustingly cute garments his best friend knit for him. Wally was a raccoon of simple pleasures. Playing in the sink, chasing plastic bags, chewing on arbitrary bits of twine-"
Serena's face paled.
"-Um, I mean frolicking through flowery meadows." He covered quickly, "He will be sorely missed in this world, for he was a beacon of sunlight on a cloudy day, and brought joy to all those who knew him. One look at that adorable-" He choked as he caught a whiff of the decomposing raccoon, "-Face and you fell in love."
"But I rest well, knowing that right now, Wally is chasing plastic bags in Raccoon Heaven. Where there is always an abundance of grapes, Christmas pillows, and non-lethal twine." He gingerly placed a hand over the roadkill's head, trying not to gag, "So I fare thee well, my tiny woodland friend." He raised his head to the sky, looking like he was spiritually moved by Serena, when in all actuality he was just trying to avoid the stench. "May you and your beloved best friend be reunited on the other side."
Serena was crying once again, and she gripped Stanton in a tight embrace, "That was so…so beautiful!" She exclaimed, "I know he was moved!"
Stanton once again donned the mask of sincerity, "I did what I could. It's a great tragedy." He grimaced as he touched the thing again, "I can only hope he will rest in peace."
The two of them buried Wally the Raccoon together, and Stanton gave a few more false condolences and returned home.
When he got there, he found a Tymmie-shaped hole through the wall, Murray pounding the crap out of Karyl for spilling Cheetos, and most importantly, another episode of Teen Titans.
He sighed as plopped down on the couch and began eating Cheetos off of the floor. Next time, he was definitely buying Serena a pet rock.
-fin-