Disclaimer, or Lawyer's Eye Test: "The Fairly OddParents" television series and all related characters and settings are created by Butch Hartman for Nickelodeon. The show, characters and Nickelodeon cable network are owned by Viacom International.
CHAPTER TWO
At about six in the evening, Timmy drug his practically limp self home in the dusk of the sun. Indeed, this particular day was a pain in the butt in more than one way. Math class brought a pop algebra quiz, for example. His partner in chemistry wound up being the gassy kid, instead of Trixie whom he still pined for. Oh, and Timmy was found with the fireworks-obsessed kids' stash in his bookbag.
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Twin brothers Evan and Ernie Grucci were always fascinated by pyrotechnics, so much so that they would even take them along to school. Everyday at noon-ish, they would set off a loud firecracker in the parking lot next to the cafeteria. This time, however, they caught the attention of a security guard, and had to get rid of the evidence right on their hands. So they dumped it in the trash.
"We're so sorry we ever had to part this way," Evan said with a heavy heart. "Just know that this isn't personal, and you will always be in our hearts. Godspeed."
Timmy did not hear this going on, because he was too busy contemplating to himself what to say to Trixie Tang when approaching her in the cafeteria. In the years that have passed, Timmy still has not achieved with the upscale, attractive Chinese girl, whom he had a crush on since kindergarten. He's all but certain that the two of them are a package deal, meant to be together, going against the social conventions involving the rich.
As of this very moment, Trixie does recognize that Timmy exists and the two have interacted in the past on various occasions, so he's almost there. Not that said interactions have been all that pleasant, however. There was one time, for example when he tried to impress her by taking a job at the animal shelter, knowing full well of her love for furry little critters, typical of rich socialites. Unfortunately, he wound up releasing a whole bunch of them one day, and they wound up getting squashed on the freeway.
But this is one time, Timmy is certain that he will find success in asking her out, after all she also has expressed positive emotions towards him several times in the past. The only missing component was the exact right words to say. "So, have you seen the movie...no," Timmy thought to himself. "Uh...how about last night's 'Family Guy'?" Timmy then shuttered to himself, realizing that he would turn Trixie off fully by merely mentioning the name of that show. She was an honors student who preferred substance in her comedy, and thus could not stand it.
All the while, he was unaware that the contents of a nearby garbage can were starting to float into the air, hovering all over the place and dragging a certain aroma along with it. This collection of green, slimy junk included a certain string of explosives that belonged once to a certain pair of twins. It eventually would gather right over an open backpack, Timmy's.
And then, it finally dawned upon the teenager in pink, he just needed to act natural. "There have been plenty of times when you've decided to be yourself around Trixie," Timmy thought to himself. "Like how about the first time you've really tried her affections, by wishing for all of those trendy clothes, acting hip, and even telling your uncool friends off. And when you've decided to drop all of that and defend the uncool, Trixie still kissed you!" He was all but certain that Trixie to some extent liked him.
With all of that in mind, Timmy finally relaxed and walked into the lunchroom, confident and secure. Unfortunately, that also meant the garbage in the air fell right into his bag.
He walked up to Trixie, unaware of all the people gawking at the gunk spilled on his backpack, or those cringing and retching if they were close enough. "Hey, Trixie," Timmy said to catch her attention away from the novel she was reading. "Now, we've known each other for years and..."
But he was interrupted by Trixie, freaking out about the stench coming from his book bag. "Gah, that just smells wretched! Back off," with a push to the side.
The next feeling Timmy encountered was a familiar one, combining disappointment, scorn and overall burnage into one package. It was the feeling of rejection, which he remembers as commonly associated with this girl. This was compounded by the kids in the cafeteria laughing at him.
Timmy just drifted towards the exit with whatever strength his emotionally crushed spirit could maintain. As the common phrase goes, how could things get any worse? Well, a school security guard stopped him and inquired about his book bag, noticing a firecracker sticking out of it.
"You must be that kid who set off the fireworks in the parking lot," he shouted at Timmy in front of everyone.
"Wait...what are you talking about?" Timmy responded. He was rather surprised to see what exactly was in his backpack, confounded as to how it got in there. His confused reaction did nothing to help him, and neither did the guard's cold, steely determination. He would neither believe Timmy's truthful claim that the fireworks are not his, nor would he notice the garbage stench coming off the bag.
"I know just what to do with troublemakers like you," he said in a stony tone. "You look like the right material for Crocker."
"But I didn't...those are not mine..."
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Timmy was then sent to the office of Vice Principal Denzel Crocker, who was his teacher in the fifth grade. Nearly all of his life, Mr. Crocker was dedicated to seeking out and capturing fairies, convinced that they were serving children by granting them wishes. This is the reason why he became a teacher, but one student in particular caught his attention the most. Out of all the students he sensed fairies around and promptly interrogated, he was the first to not have cracked under the pressure. In such a situation, the kid would admit to having fairies, lose them, and Crocker would lose interest.
But not for this student. Not for Timmy Turner. He was too strong and devoted to denying his fairies around such an obvious nutcase. A nutcase who guessed right in everything he assumed about fairies, and that made him a danger for the kid.
Regardless, Crocker remained interested in Timmy, ambitious to continue following him around if only because he had so much willpower and strength. After Timmy left Crocker's class, he would gradually follow the boy as he progressed through school. This did mean actually putting effort into the teaching job he could not care less about, but after considering being able to gain promotion from one school level to the next, Crocker was willing to go through with it.
And the pot sweetened for him when he started noticing the respect the staff suddenly had for him in his improved job teaching, which was certainly a refreshing change from just being the fairy-obsessed crackpot. With this increased respect, Crocker was motivated to work harder at teaching, and climbed the ladder higher until he reached the vice principal position. He could gain more power, possibly become principal or even mayor, and that would open more potential doors for him.
But for the time being, Crocker's satisfied whenever Timmy is brought into his office by the school authorities, and placed into the hot seat. So, Denzel entered his office, with its lights off and it's blind rolled down, leaving Timmy in total darkness. He turned on the desk lamp with a smug grin, knowing he's ready to bargain with the fourteen-year-old.
"Really, firecrackers," Crocker said. "I always knew you were into the explosions and loud noises, but I never would have guessed you would go to such extremes."
Timmy's head was still spinning from finding that nasty surprise in his backpack. "I don't even know where those things came from. And I did not set them off, nor am I stupid enough to play with explosives."
"I don't care where they came from, Turner. This is a big charge over your head." Crocker briefly paused from his cliched pacing across the darkened room as Timmy shot him a look.
"No pun intended..."
"Yeah, of course."
Denzel went back to his pacing, with his hands clamped back behind his back no less. "What I want to do is be your friend."
What he meant by that was all to clear to Timmy, and he already dreaded what was coming next. "What do you mean by that," he asked to confirm his suspicions.
"You know just what I mean." I was pretty obvious Crocker was talking about Timmy's fairies.
"I don't think so."
"Just hear me out, Turner. You know I have a lot of clout in this school district. I can clear you of the charges surrounding this possession. You already have a detention waiting for you, but I can clear that as well. The only thing I ask in return is to be granted unlimited magical powers. And when you use your...FAIRY GODPARENTS...it amounts simply to a single wish."
Denzel always used to spaz and twitch whenever he mentioned a fairy, but remarkably he is now able to control his body in such a situation, and his tick only amounts to a slight shout which is only noticeable if one is in the same room. But make no mistake, he's only made himself out to "appear" professional.
Timmy knows Crocker's accusations are accurate, but he has a responsibility as a godchild, and must let nobody know about them. So he disregarded the facts and reacted like any innocent kid would if told something like what Crocker just said.
"You are out of your mind, believing in such things."
"Don't even try that card," Denzel fired back, "You know I'm not the crackpot, fairy-obsessed teacher anymore."
"I don't care if you've convinced the rest of the staff you've changed, because it's obvious you haven't. So stop pretending you've convinced yourself."
"Okay, I'll try this another way. You can accept my offer or I'll have you expelled. The moment that request in junction with the charges against you is filed, it's as good as done."
"I always knew you were a psycho..."
It was at that moment when a few rays of hope finally broke the darkness...or rather it was simply the light coming from the sub-hallway outside of Denzel's office, brought to you by Hope Reyes.
Hope was Denzel's secretary since his initial promotion about a year earlier, although they've known each other for years. But they were never friends by any means. She got this job because she needed one and forced Denzel into hiring her. He would have much prefer if Hope would get off his back entirely, but such a thing isn't going to happen anytime soon.
"Hey, what's Timms doing here?" Hope flicked on the lights to give the freshman a little relief. She could tell that her boss was up to no good by the fact that Timmy, of whom she was quite fond, was in this office.
"He was caught with fireworks."
"Yeah, like I don't know who the fireworks-obsessed kids are. What I do know is that while Timms here does love the explosions and loud noises, he knows better than to just play with explosives. You may as well just let him go."
Crocker just gnashed his crooked teeth at the thought of his secretary undermining his plans for what had to be the twelfth time that week. There was a secret about Hope only he knew, and she in turn constantly held a secret about him over his head.
"No. I think I'll just give Turner here a little more time to consider my offer..."
"It's no deal, Crocker," Timmy spoke up, interrupting the vice principal. "I don't have to think about it. I never had to think about it. I was always going to refuse." He then gave Hope a confident look.
Before Crocker could being to declare his intent to expel Timmy, Hope said "Don't even think about it, or I'll just write my own report to the administration. One about you."
Crocker asked, "What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, you know just what I mean. It can make it's way to the superintendent faster than your report, kind of like magic. And then, it will be you who's out."
With this, Crocker conceded, letting out an aggravated sigh. "You may win this round, you've still got detention this afternoon," he hissed at Timmy, who then walked out of the office with a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, I think I got a little lucky back there," he told Hope.
"Always glad to turn the tables whenever you need it. Sorry you're gonna have to miss football practice today."
"It's okay, you were at lunch. I'm just glad you were able to come back in time." Timmy was then ready to go on his way.
"Well, after what that Crocker did to me, I really should file that report against him anyway. He doesn't deserve any of what he's gained the last few years."
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Moving up the driveway of his home in the near-darkness, Timmy could feel a tight knot in his stomach from his expectations of coming home to see Vicky. He was very unhappy with the thought of having to put up with her cruel treatment, especially considering how today went. He was humiliated in front of the student body, worse yet in front of the girl of his dreams, was wrongfully apprehended by school security, faced expulsion, and missed football for detention.
And all of this was the result of something that seemed to have happened by magic. He was not even aware of it, let alone able to explain it.
He entered the house, all dark and empty. The babysitter seems to have not arrived yet, so Timmy let out a sigh of relief.
By this point in his life, Timmy rarely saw his parents at all anymore. His mother and father were promoted heavily in their respective jobs the last several years, to the point where their responsibilities meet the best accommodation through long, exhaustive hours just about everyday. They would be out the door early and not come back home until late at night. Any and all free time was spent on themselves, usually with nightly dinners and vacations taken well off the beaten path.
Everyday, they would also call the house and leave a message for Timmy and Vicky on the answering machine. This was the closest thing to proper parenting that Timmy had as a teenager. On this particular day, however, he was unlucky, for they had heard about the trouble he was in. Even if it was not of his own design.
"Hello, Timmy," went Mr. Turner's recorded voice in an authoritative tone. "We heard you were caught with fireworks at school today. Is that really what you've doing with your free time? Your mother and I were certain you were playing football instead of getting into detention."
Well, it would appear that Timmy's parents are just as dense now as they were four years and four job levels ago. Forgiving that they should know their son better, they don't even think their instruction, teaching, and chastising of their son through well enough. This is made clear by the fact that they almost assumed their son was actually playing with the fireworks, but didn't outright say it or even confirm mentally it's what they were thinking. Instead, they seemed to have skipped to the next step in what would otherwise be a logical thought process.
"We're letting Vicky know that she should come up with an appropriate punishment for fireworks when looking after our son tonight," Mrs. Turner continued. Timmy really gulped hard with that note. "As always, dinner's in the freezer, set the oven at 375° for twenty minutes. We love you, Tommy." The message ended with a beep following that casual use of the wrong name.
Timmy attempted to erase the message, hoping Vicky would not pick up on that suggestion his parents made with a gross lack of judgement. The bad news for him, though is that Vicky would still get the message, and that was signified when the lights abruptly came on. She was actually waiting for him in the house the whole time.
"Evening, twerp," said the twenty-year-old redhead. Victoria Truman at the time was in the middle of her college education at Siebert College in Twatton, which was roughly an hour commute from Dimmsdale. She was living in the dorms at her school, but Vicky was willing to make the drive all the way out if only to keep looking after the son of her favorite clients. The Turners have always paid well throughout the six years they have employed her, and they were willing to help put this girl they trusted through college.
Literally, the only person in this whole situation who was unhappy with it was Timmy. He was near certain that he's too old for a babysitter, especially one who tortured him as much as Vicky did. But the worst part was that Timmy's parents were never aware of Vicky's true nature. Even when they were able to see him more often, she would put on this act and seem like a nice, caring girl who really enjoyed hanging out with this kid. This was a throughly deceptive act, and the parents never suspected a thing.
One example of the kind of cruelty he had to put up with was constantly having to do her schoolwork, saddled with assignment after assignment, having to churn out papers and forced to deal with problems that are well beyond his pay grade. The only things that helped him out were magic and his long time, intellectual friend, Alex "A.J." Johnson. Of course, the work was always done too well, so Vicky had honor credits she did not deserve and worse, the work load is not likely to stop soon.
"Whenever I get a specific request from your parents, I always make sure it's done," Vicky said. "So, you are to clean the chimney out entirely. Starting now!"
Timmy was rather irritated by having to do this chore, especially considering the fact that it had practically nothing to do with being caught with fireworks. Still, he promptly climbed into the shaft of the chimney with the sweeping tool and started up. After he climbed up far enough, Vicky put some kindle into the fireplace. The next thing she did was start a fire.
Obviously, it made the conditions inside the chimney all the more intolerable for Timmy, who was at least lucky that it was burning clean. "Oh, yeah. She's 'punishing' me using fire," he thought to himself. But things got even worse, because something exploded in the fire below, propelling him with enough force to fly out of the top of the chimney and land on the roof.
Well, at least the punishment now fit the crime, even though Timmy was not guilty in the slightest and did not deserve it. Better yet, this wasn't even Vicky's intention. She was just as surprised to see these explosions in the fireplace, and was just trying to burn the mail that came in that day for Timmy. From her vantage point, she just saw the letters disappear and thus assumed that they were, in fact destroyed.
Instead, Timmy just grabbed the parcels as they flew up the chimney and tried to keep it together in the chaotic state of being he passed through. After his head settled, the adolescent was joined by a pink squirrel who climbed up the pipes connecting to the gutters. It was Wanda, who then raised her wand to teleport herself and Timmy to his room on the second story below, restoring her form in the process. Cosmo and Poof were also waiting there.
"I'm hoping you were able to get your mail," Wanda said. "When we checked in on you with our magic, I could see that Vicky was going to burn your mail right beneath you."
"Yeah," Timmy responded. "But I'm lucky to have you guys to put a spell on the comic books I receive, preventing them from burning up. And Dippy down there just looks at them explode in the fire and just assumes they're made of gunpowder or something." With that thought, Timmy cracked a huge smile at his enemy being perpetually unaware of the power he wields.
So, Timmy then flipped through his mail and noticed something different among it. It was an envelope sized to fit a thank you note, with a fancy, official-looking seal on the back no less. He was really surprised to see something like with his name over the receiving address, especially without anything written on it for a return address. The fairies were also able to sense something on the envelope, like it was enchanted or something.
"Careful with that, Timmy," Cosmo shouted as he flew up to grab the envelope. "Could have some kind of poisonous spell on it or something!" He then narrowed his eyes upon noticing that it's not harming him.
Wanda could only chuckle at the way her husband was acting. "Well, Cosmo, we already put out own spell on it, but I do notice something else on it. It seems to be traces of some kind of wizard magic."
"Should I open it," Timmy asked.
"I don't think it'll cause any harm."
The godson then proceeded to open the letter, which was written on a rather small piece of parchment and in a style of calligraphy. As he started to read the note, his expression grew sad and depressed. This was because the letter reminded him of a recent great loss. He continued to read the letter, and promptly shifted to a state of shock and surprise.
"You guys know my Grandpa Richie?"
"'Ol Richie," Poof said. "Yeah, he was the fun one. Always had a plate of cookies out for you and your cousins."
"Your mother's father," Wanda added. "He was always full of life and energy, and actually liked you."
"And he had superpowers, too!" Cosmo's response was just as warm and reminiscent as his wife and son's, even if it made less sense.
"Well, I have bad news and I have surprise news. First the bad news, he died last night."
Timmy let a beat linger as his fairies slumped their heads down to the news.
"But that's not the only thing this letter says. It also says he was a wizard."
The fairies then jerked their heads upwards in shock, and their jaws hung open.
Cosmo however, broke the silence. "Hey, I was right! He did have superpowers!"
