A/N: AAAAH! (dance) I have completed my bitchin' horror fic! The burden has been lifted off of my shoulders! (dances some more)
Anyways, I will probably be able to update this fic more often now. Hopefully once a week, like I used to. Of course, I have finals coming up soon, but I really don't give a rat's ass about them, anyway. But I have Christmas break coming after that, and, if you've stuck by me for a year now, you would know that I take holidays off.
I'm making it sound like I actually have an occupation… O.O
But anyway. I have an idea for a new fic building up, and I'll probably work on that some over the holidays. If I don't update by next week, you can know that I'll be enjoying the two weeks of me-time.
And hey, if I don't hear from you, Merry Christmas/Happy Chanukah! Yes… I said "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Chanukah". Not "Happy Holidays". I laugh at you, politically correct people. I LAUGH!
As the sun reached its peak in the sky, a boy zoomed down the street on an electric scooter, breaking the speed of sound. As he went by a house, leaving a sonic boom in his trail, he couldn't help but realize how great life had been to him. He had been raised by a mighty fine family, and even though his dad had failed to provide and died from a drinking binge, life still rawked. He now lived with two dear friends in a lovely condo on 5999 Richmond Street, and quite frankly, he couldn't be happier.
As he pulled into the condo-complex parking lot, moving at an amazing five miles per hour with a sonic boom hot on his tail, he couldn't help but hum to himself. He pulled into his parking space and turned the scooter off, causing the air around him to become as noiseless as… an inanimate object. Sure.
The boy had been carrying a brown paper sack on the back of the scooter (supposedly groceries), and as he walked towards his front door with the bag in hand, he couldn't help but sing to express he cheery mood.
This is the beautiful song he sang.
"And the sign said
'Long-haired freaky people need not apply'.
So I tucked my hair up under my hat
And I went in to ask him why!"
It was then that boy spotted a long-haired freaky man, sitting on the cold concrete with his back propped against the northern brick wall of the complex. He was clothed in a dark green jacket and loose-fitting bluejeans, a fedora covering his head and his hands shoved deeply in his pockets. His long gray hair was hanging over his shoulders, no doubt providing some unique feeling of warmth, and his equally long beard covered the majority of the front of the jacket. On his right was a cardboard box with an appropriately placed arrow pointing upwards on its side, the word "fragile" decorating the bottom. On his left was a cardboard sign which bore the words "Homeless and illiterate. No, really. I mean it."
"Hello Mr. Tweed!" shouted the boy, waving his free arm and smiling.
The hobo, who apparently went by the name of Mr. Tweed, brought his attention to the boy and did nothing.
"Hallo thar, Cyborg," said Mr. Tweed, doing nothing to gesture a greeting. "How're ya?"
"Just fine, thanks," responded Victor, not necessarily enjoying the nickname that Mr. Tweed had given him. He assumed that the hobo never knew his real name, so, out of creativity, produced the nickname "Cyborg" and had called him that ever since.
"Great. Jus' great. You tell de others 'hallo' fer me, OK?"
"Will do."
Victor continued his journey, and just as he took his second step, he heard Mr. Tweed saying something.
"Oh… I almos' fergot. Did you get that thing fer me?"
Victor snapped his free finger and peered into his bag. "Somewhere in here… Ah! Here it is!"
Victor reached into his bag and pulled out a long, green bottle, which he then tossed to the man on the ground.
"Much obliged, Cyborg. Much obliged."
Mr. Tweed popped off a cork that covered the top and took a long, generous sip of the contents inside. He then produced a bone-rattling cough as soon as he finished, causing Victor to flinch in the process.
"Are you alright, Mr. Tweed?"
"O' course I'm alright… I imagine I got you into some trouble back thar, didn't I?"
"No sir. They didn't give me one curious look."
"Great. Jus' great. Here's yer wage, then."
Victor waved his hand and shook his head. "No, sir. You don't have to pay me anything."
"'Course I do." Mr. Tweed revealed something from his pocket. "Here's a piece o' string. You've earned it."
Victor leaned over and took the string, which he then looked at closely.
"Gee… Uh… Thanks, Mr. Tweed."
"No problem." Mr. Tweed then produced another bone-rattling cough. "You get along now, OK?"
"Alright. See you later."
"Same 'ere. And remember to tell the others 'hallo'."
Victor only replied by smiling as he turned around to continue the rest of his trip. And it wasn't necessarily a long trip, either. All he had to do was enter a door and climb the staircase behind it, where he would reach the door to the condo.
Of course, he usually had to do something odd to actually get in the God-forsaken place… but he was just grateful to have a place at all, unlike the unfortunate Mr. Tweed outside.
Taking a deep sigh, Victor knocked on the door twice. As usual, a voice rang out from the other side.
"Who is it?"
"Vic," said Victor, slightly impatient and wanting to get inside.
"How do I know it's Vic?"
"Because he's not in the condo. Now let me in."
"…What's the secret poem?"
Victor's one eye widened in disbelief. "Come on, Robin! You want me to say the whole thing out here?"
"How do you know my name?" asked the voice from beyond. "Do you want in, or not?"
Victor sighed. "Fine.
"The Teen Titans are the marvelous three
They'll prove it if you give them an opportunity.
And now, for fun, and because I am bored,
I'll introduce them to you, you filthy little whore.
There's Robin, the leader, the best of them all!
Watch him do flips, and not even fall!
He can flap his arms and throw bombs real quick
And hit people with his pole… NO! NOT HIS DICK!"
Victory turned around as if to see if anyone was listening. When he saw no one in sight, he continued the poem.
"Now Raven, the founder, and darkest of them,
Likes listening to metal and destroying ghetto cribs.
And whatever you do, don't say she's emo,
For she'll strangle your neck, and beat you with a hoe.
Now there's Victor, the big robot dude.
His technology's efficient and hardly crude.
But if you say to him that you like his bling,
He'll punch you in the gut and put you in a sling.
These are the Titans, so mighty and true.
If you ever need us, you know what to do.
That's right. Call us daytime or nighttime, whenever, toll free.
At 1-800-255-5433."
Victor shifted his eyes to the left and right, as if waiting for someone to jump out of the walls, yelling "SMILE! YOU'RE ON CANDID CAMERA!" No such event occurred, however. Instead, the door in front of him opened, permitting access.
"We've really got to do something about our security system, Robin," said the android as he tossed the bag of groceries onto the floor. "It's ridiculous."
"What do you mean?" asked Robin as he shut the door. "It's impossible! No villain is going to be able to say the code word-for-word!"
"I somewhat have to agree with Vic, Robin," said Raven from a far end of the room. "It's annoying, and I hate my verse."
Victor looked at Raven in confusion. "What are you doing there, Rae?"
Raven turned her head and faced the android. She somewhat startled him, in a way. Large, red rings had formed around her eyes, and her pupils were quite small. He couldn't help but flinch in response, but he quickly recovered, realizing that was a very rude thing to do.
"Robin here figured out a way to know if crime's going on in the city."
"Really?" asked Victor, grinning. "That's great! What is it?"
"I sit here, in front of this window, see? And I look out of the window with this pair of large, bulky binoculars."
"Nice, huh?" asked Robin, grinning. "I got them at a pawn shop for three-hundred bucks! It magnifies objects up to a thousand times!"
"Yes…" said Raven. "And look at the rings that the eye-pieces put around my eyes. Aren't they 'nice' as well?"
"I'll say they are," said Robin, grinning even wider.
Raven sighed and went back to her job. Victor had long ago lost his grin, and though he hated to admit it, he felt… sorry for Raven.
"I'm going to go upstairs and see how the hotline's doing," said Robin, making his way towards the cluttered staircase. And as soon as he was gone, Victor could only raise an eyebrow in confusion.
"We have a hotline? Not just a phone?"
"Yeah," said Raven, not taking her eyes from the binoculars. "We just got it while you were gone. It's hideous. It's white, has chibi eyes, a freaky grin, and a red flashing bulb for a nose."
"Really?" Victor put a finger to his chin. "It sounds so… familiar."
"Tell me about it. I felt like I was in a different world."
"Yeah… I kinda feel that way too…"
A long period of silence went by; Raven continued to sit in front of the window, binoculars pressing against her face, and Victor, having nothing else to do, sat on the couch and turned on the television. It was only after dark that he decided to do something for the better.
"Come on now, Raven," he said after giving a sigh. "Get away from that window and come watch some TV or something."
"No," she responded. "Something could happen."
"Nothing's happened all day! It's seven o'clock now, and you've been at it since when? Nine?"
"Try five," she said, adjusting the lens.
"Five?" repeated Victor. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Remember when Robin told you to watch where you stepped when you went to look out the window, and you said you nearly tripped over a big ottoman?"
"Yeah…"
"That was me."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Perfectly fine."
"But seriously… let's get out of here. OK?"
"Well…" Raven lowered her binoculars. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to leave for a little while. My eyes need a break, anyway."
"Most excellent!" Victor stood up and turned off the television. "I know a nifty little club we can go to. Admission's cheap, and we're old enough to drink there! Of course, we'd have to hurry if we want to do that. Their Dr. Pepper stock is limited."
Raven smiled faintly and got up, leaving her bulky binoculars on the windowsill. The two left, and the room was filled in silence.
If one had been looking out of the window at that time, however, they would have been able to notice one of the distant skyscrapers go up in flames. Shortly afterwards, Robin came running down the stairs, waving his arms in a frantic manner.
"THERE'S A MANIAC BURNING BUILDINGS!" he shouted, excitement in his voice. "THIS IS OUR FIRST ASSIGNMENT! LET'S MOVE OUT, GUYS!"
He soon quit flailing his arms, however, when he realized that no one was in the room.
"Guys?"
"So that's one bottle of Dr. Pepper and a cappuccino for the little lady," said a waiter as he wrote down a couple of letters on a notepad.
"That's right," said Raven. "Oh… And one more thing."
"Yes?" asked the waiter, ready to take more notes.
Raven leaned over the table from her seat, where she pointed her index finger at the lined paper. "Make a note that if you or anybody else in this club calls me 'little lady' once again, I will personally come over and set fire to all tables in this building."
The waiter looked at the empath in confusion. Victor, on the other hand, nodded.
"Keep it zipped, Bud. She means it."
"I am a bitch," said Raven, evil shining in her eyes. "Fear me."
The waiter slowly nodded his head as his forehead began to sweat from fright, a small stain appearing on the crotch of his pants.
"Now," said Raven. "Try it again."
"O-OK… That's one Dr. Pepper a-and one c-cappuccino for… for the bitch."
"Good. Now go."
Raven did not need to speak twice, for in a split second, the man was gone. Victor, on the other hand, only looked at Raven with concern.
"You do realize that you've just ruined your image as a nice defender of good, right?"
Raven leaned on her hand, her other one playing with a napkin. "No, I really can't say that I do. However, I'm willing to embrace the fact that I have made a grown man piss his pants."
As Victor laughed, the said man came back to their table, two drinks in his hand. He did not take his time, however. Instead, he simply threw the drinks down and ran.
"Hey," said Victor after twisting the cap off of his drink. "The live entertainment's about to start."
"They have live entertainment?" asked Raven, about to take a sip from her cappuccino.
"Yeah. Sometimes it's really good, but they also hire a bunch of untalented saps. I know the owner… He's a really nice guy, and can't stand it when he sees people without a job. So he gives them one."
"That's very kind. Disgusting… but kind."
No response came from Victor's mouth, for the show was about to begin.
It was rather odd, at first. Nothing actually happened, but it was the fact that the entertainer for tonight was a kid, and from the looks of it, slightly younger than Raven. And besides that, he was… green.
"That's a disturbing kid," said Raven, turning her cappuccino in her hands.
Victor nodded. "And from the looks of it, a vegetarian."
"Oh. Brilliant."
"Hello there everyone," said the boy, picking up a microphone off of the stand as four older guys and a chick set up instruments behind him. "We are known as Followed Blimp, and we are going to sing you one of our favorite songs, and hopefully… one of yours. AC/DC AND THUNDERSTRUCK!"
As soon as this was said, the guitarist began jamming out, while everyone else on stage bobbed their heads up and down while singing.
"Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah.
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah.
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah.
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah."
"Ah man…" said Victor, smiling. "I love this song."
"I loved this song."
"Loved?" Victor looked over at his friend.
"Yes," said Raven, readjusting herself. "These guys are… bleh."
"Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!
Ah ah ah ah ah ah aaaaah. THUNDER!"
The green kid then brought the microphone closer to his lips, and everyone else on stage stopped singing.
"I was caught
In the middle of a railroad track!
THUNDER!
I looked round
And I knew there was no turning back!
THUNDER!
Um… Blah blah blah!
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!
THUNDER!
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Blah blah blah!
THUNDER!
Somethin' somethin'…
Something or another…
Blah blah blah.
YOU'VE BEEN THUNDERSTRUCK!
RODE DOWN THE HIGHWAY!
BROKE THE LIMIT, WE HIT THE TOWN!
WENT TRHOUGH TO TEXAS! YEAH TEXAS!
AND WE HAD SOME FUN!"
"I see what you mean," said Victor.
"Mmm…"
"Well… it's not that everyone on here sucks. Just the green kid."
"How much are you willing to bet that someone's going to jump up on stage and beat the crap out of him?"
"You first."
"Twenty bucks. Double or nothing."
"Deal."
And the two continued to sit, talking about… things… and listening to the terrible screeches of the green kid.
"That was an awesome show tonight, guys!" shouted Garfield Logan as he and his band got backstage. "Not bad at all!"
"YOU FORGOT HALF THE LYRICS OF THE DAMN SONG!" shouted a man with long, red hair as he pinned the singer up against the wall. "OUT OF ALL THE TIMES WE WENT ON, YOU HAD TO PICK THIS NIGHT TO SCREW UP!"
"Chill out, Rocko!" said the kid, not at all traumatized by the fact he was about to get the crap beaten out of him. "It wasn't too terrible now, was it?"
"I'd have to agree with him, Gar," said a black-haired girl in fishnet stockings as she took a puff from a cigarette. "You were rather… well… you sucked."
"But didn't you hear the applause coming from that audience?" Garfield grinned widely.
"THEY ONLY APPLAUDED WHEN YOUR MICROPHONE BLEW A FUSE!" shouted Rocko, clenching his teeth and getting right in Garfield's face. "AND SIGHED WHEN SOMEONE CAME UP THERE AND FIXED IT!"
"But they applauded when we left! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
A portly bald man walked briskly by the band, snapping his finger once as he did so.
"In my office Garfield," he said, not stopping to look at the boy. "Now."
"Probably wanting to congratulate me for my outstanding performance!" grinned Garfield as Rocko let go of his grip. "I guess I'll see you guys in Nashville, hmm?"
The rest of the band watched as the boy followed the man, smacking his behind in the process.
Within a brief five seconds, Garfield Logan had entered the man's office and sat down. The owner of the office was sitting on the opposite side of a desk, lighting a cigar and propping his feet up.
"Do you know why I hired you, Garfield?"
Garfield smiled widely. "Because you knew we had talent?"
"Correction." The man pointed his cigar at the door. "Your band had talent. I wouldn't have hired you if I hadn't felt sorry for you."
"What are you saying, Tom?"
"I mean I only hired you because I wanted you to have a small salary to support yourself with. I don't like the way you sing, Garfield. You suck. You suck miserably."
"Are you trying to tell me that…?"
"Yes, Gar. You're fired."
Garfield stood up quickly, his jaw quivering.
"Fine! Just fine! But I'm telling you now, you're making a big mistake! Someday, I'm going to be a famous cocky little bastard making twenty million a year, and someday you're going to think about how you thought I sucked and hope that I come back to support your crappy club! While in the end, you and everyone else here will be a tiny little footnote on my epic ass!"
Garfield Logan turned around and pointed at his butt while Tom just sat there, waiting patiently for him to leave.
"Please go."
"Right."
"I can't believe it… Such a tragedy. Such a tragedy."
Raven shook her head as she lifted her black veil to dab her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
"Well…" said Cyborg, shaking his head. "He died happy, that's for sure."
It had been a horrible, horrible day. The sadness had begun as soon as Raven and Cyborg arrived home from their night of clubbing, only to be greeted by Mr. Tweed.
FLASHBACK!
"RAVEN! CYBORG! OVER HERE!"
Cyborg and Raven looked around in confusion, wondering who had called their name so unexpectedly.
"Right in front of ya!"
"Mr. Tweed!" said Victor, grinning. "Hi there!"
The man was still in his everyday attire, but he no longer had a depressed look on his face. Instead, he was grinning widely, showing off all four wooden teeth and waving his arms around.
"Why so excited, Tweed?" asked Raven. "Did the supermarket lower its Jack Daniel's price again?"
"Even better!" he shouted, hopping for joy. "I've just won the lottery!"
Victor and Raven stood in shock, unable to believe the good news.
"That's wonderful, Mr. Tweed!" shouted Victor. "Congratulations!"
"How much did you win?"
"200 million dollars!"
Raven and Victor only stood there in greater disbelief. They were so happy for their friend!
"I can't believe it," said Raven. "Ever since I've lived here he's been telling me about how wonderful it would be for him to win the lottery. And now… he's done it!"
Victor gave a sniff and wiped his good eye. "I'm so… happy for him!"
The two friends watched in utter bliss as their companion danced around in the street, screaming random interjections to express his happiness.
However, Raven soon broke the moment by giving a loud gasp.
"TWEED! LOOK OUT!"
SPLAT!
END FLASHBACK!
The three musketeers: Robin, Cyborg, and Raven, shook their heads in sadness as they approached their condo.
"Why did it have to happen that way?" asked Raven as she blew her nose into the handkerchief. "Why?"
"I get what you're saying," said Robin, frowning. "I always expected he would die from alcohol poisoning or something. But… wow."
"And he had just won the lottery, too," said Victor.
"He was such a good friend," said Robin.
Raven looked at her handkerchief in disgust. "The best."
Victor sighed. "I've decided I'm going to do something for him."
"What's that?" asked Raven, throwing her handkerchief away. "Buy him a better casket?"
"No, but I have to admit, that wouldn't be a bad idea. Pine boxes are so ugly."
"What are you going to do, Vic?" asked Robin.
"I'm going to… change my name!"
Raven and Robin looked at their friend in confusion. "What you talkin' 'bout, Victor?"
"He was always calling me Cyborg… and even though I despised the name completely, I shall now be known as... CYBORG!"
Triumphant fanfare echoed throughout the air as Victor stood there in a superhero-like pose.
"But…" began Raven. "Victor…"
"DO NOT CALL ME VICTOR! Victor was my old name. I am now… CYBORG!"
More fanfare.
"You! Mr. Narrator type person!"
Yes?
"Make that a mental note. You are now to call me Cyborg and nothing else!"
Yes, Cyborg. Of course.
"And if you dare slip up and call me Victor, I shall come over to your house and cut you!"
Of course, Cyborg. Whatever you say.
"Well," Cyborg sighed. "I guess that's that, then. The only thing left to do is…"
Raven tapped Cyborg on the shoulder and pointed. Cyborg, curious to see what was there, turned around to see a green kid rummaging through a garbage can.
Wow… A cliffhanger. Not exactly a "Z0MG WUT I5 G0ING 2 HAPP3N N3XT!" cliffhanger, but a cliffhanger nonetheless.
Review. Now.