Sorry about the long wait, Summer School is KILLING me with a rusty dagger covered in acid then heated with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. Thankfully, it is over tomorrow. However, I won't be able to do anything next week, I'm going to Florida.
That, and my mind's bent in a pretzel because I'm damn sure I saw somebody who works on DP on Saturday. At least, it was the guy who's laughing in that video Nick put up of them voice acting Reality Trip.
Sadly, I'm probably going to discontinue Timeless. Partly because it DIED, partly because the scraps I had left got deleted by my computer, which has been having tantrums lately. I could try, but it died on me.
Anyway, Reviews Replies:
Me The Anon One: Ack, damn my misspelling. Yes, it was warped. Just like my little mind. Hehe, just like my own little mind, savaged by crossovers and pirates...
abcdef... Okay, I'm not even gonna try : YES! BEHOLD THE REESESITY GOODNESS! ...Scary thing is, my spell checker, which is convinced 'frappucino' isn't a word, says reesesity is one.
Esme Kali Phantom: Yeah, sugar highs are fun. One time my mom packed me this frappucino for lunch. I was SO DAMN BUZZED. I was literally like Sokka from that episode of avatar where they're stuck in the Desert (the episode: the desert. Creative, no?)
A direct quote of me: I am HYPER HAMMY! THE HAMSTERS WILL ATTACK AT DAWN, AND I AM THEIR QUEEN! BOW BEFORE ME DAMN IT! ...I like pointy things...
...Yeah, my science teacher flipped out on me next period when I was grinning the whole time.
As for the MP3 thing, my dad just put on whatever junk he listens to, and it's the only music I ever hear. The synchronizing MP3 thing was really random, and I was, in fact, on a Peanut-drumstick induced sugar rush at the time.
Free Dan Phantom: I'll try, I recorded it on my Tivo. In the mean time I've got plenty more hatched up. Crossovers galore, I say!
Ghostboy814: Yes, yes they are. Speak it brother! Don't let the man keep you down!
Andrew Laplante: Thanks, I try. I couldn't leave the punching bag thing out, I just couldn't. As for the Reeses thing... Let me put it this way. See the Response to Esma Kali Phantom? His sugar high thing is based of me when I had that frappucino. Really. Also, I have been known to eat up to ten of those miniature Reeses buckets in any one day where they were handy.
Cheesebot12: My parents look at me funny when I roll from reading it repeatedly while I go over it for grammar and spelling. One time my mom asked, "Honey, did you have Reeses today?". Guess which chapter I was writing.
--------Anyway, ahem, here is the story!-------
The Horrific, Bloodcurdling, Traumatizing, Very scary Halloween
It's Halloween in Amity Park, and Tucker convinced me to go trick or treating. He told me he'd give me all his Reeses for doing it, damn my weakness for those little buckets of chocolaty goodness... Why do they betray me!
Anyway, Sam's coming too, because of majority vote. Let's hear it for being able to make choices in our insignificant, meaningless lives! Woot woot!... Sam tells me we're all gonna die anyway, so that sort of lost it's optimism fast.
...Ahem. So, the time comes for costumes. Tucker's the robot from Flash Gordon (I'm not specifying because they're all alike-cardboard with painted buttons, randomly blinking light bulbs, and sparklers shoved up their ass). Sam is going as some witch... vampire... sorceress... thing. She has a shredded black cape, leotard, fangs and red contacts, that's all I know.
I am going as- DUN DUN! Danny Phantom. Yes, I'm cosplaying as myself, live with it Earth monkeys!... I have got to stop letting Sam bring me to those Invader-Zim-athons. They're soiling my poor mind worse than that time I got a hold of the Monty Python script for a book report.
My parents, as always, are toting around massive elephant guns to blast my hide off. Or vaporise me. Or tear me apart molecule by molecule. I can only hope my parents don't figure out it's not just a costume.
Anyway, we start off. The first thing I notice- there's like a billion Danny Phantoms walking around! I swear, half the population is going as me. It's like, walking in a house of mirrors where I'm covered in zits and bad haircuts.
Traumatic doppelgangers aside, nobody will ever think I'm the real Phantom. Thank the almighty... WAIT! DON'T! HE'LL COME FOR ME! SOMEBODY HELP!...
Yah. I'm going insane. Hurray for me, an insane super hero on Halloween. Somehow this seems familiar... Oh yeah, The Nightmare Before Christmas! That skeleton dude!
(cough) So... We begin our night of terror. and horror. and other other things best not discussed in the vicinity of three fairly attractive orphans in a series of Unfortunate Events caused by an unscrupulous guardian... Mr. Lancer's getting to me. That or the guy that looks like a bird that got his face shoved in my dad's toilet. Now wait, scratch that, he still has skin.
We go to the next house, and get, not candy, but granola bars. Gran-freakin'-ola bars. I forgot I live in the health food district, thank you parents working for the guys in white. You ever notice how they houses in the health district are always cheaper? It's because kids avoid them! The insurance companies pay them to give out granola! I tell you, IT'S A CONSPIRACY!
-Let's forget that ever happened, shall we? Yes yes, very good, very good. It is better for everybody that way. Jolly good for me- and you, of course, I'd never forget my adoring fan--!... It's Jerry, right? Or was it Larry... Here, take the bribe and go. Now.
So, we high tail it out of the health food district and go to the good houses. As in, the houses that don't give me fruit, or granola, or health insurance coupons!--It's a long story. Don't ask. Please, don't. I'm still mentally scarred from the smiley faces...
We scoot/skedaddle/ whatever the heck you want to call it over to a house. We ring the door bell and am greeted with the snarling face of... Dash. You thought it was Valerie come to shoot me, didn't you? HAHA! I got you!
He grunted and threw a candy bar at each of us, mine going through me and onto the floorWay to go, genius. Nobody will ever figure out you're a ghost if stuff goes through you. He looks at me funny, and I say, "Erm, it's holographic?" while grinning like the lying idiot I am. However, Dash is even more of an idiot, so he shrugs and leaves.
I sigh in relief before continuing on. Next house, same thing, except there isn't a furless gorilla snarling at the door. Instead there were other snooty rich people who would sooner step on my head then give me the time. They throw candy out a window and shove the door in our face. Well, they were nice.
Finally, we come to an apartment. Three guesses who opens the door screaming 'THERE YOU ARE!' with her ectogun blazing. No, it's not mom. She hasn't reached shooting random kids in the face yet. Dad, though... A scream and flash in the background tell the tale a lot better than I could and will.
"No Valerie, it's me, Danny! We're trick or treating!" I screech as a monster gun with a barrel the size of my head looks me dead on. How she can even lift the damn thing is a mystery to me. I mean, it must weigh more than she does, and while speeding at a good hundred miles an hour, without the G forces added in? It's against the bloody laws of physics. Then again, so am I... No time to ponder that, photosynthesis killed my brain bad enough. Plants makes sugar, that's all I need to know.
She lowers her gun, eyes still blazing, and throws it down. "Sorry, but you look just like him... Where'd you get the costume?" she asked suspiciously, eyebrows raised. How could I get out of this. I could say Sam stitched it up and did the make up, she's a master. Yes, let's go with that. Blame my best friend who will forgive me no matter what.
"Sam did it. Her parents made her stitch something or else they'd force her into pink for the next month. She's great with makeup too." I lie. Hey, it's better this way than her finding out that her schoolmate is the same guy she wants to mount the pelt of at the foot of her bed! ...Wait, that's Skulker. She'd probably want to do it too though, so I didn't make a mistake. I'm not wrong! I can't be wrong! (twitch).
"I guess that makes sense... Take your candy and go." she mutters, throwing a couple of Hershey's kisses over her shoulder. Of course, all three land in Tucker's bag, which,under oath, is out of bounds. Karma, why do you hate me?
I quickly stalk off into the night, making sure that Valerie is outside of shooting distance should she notice that I am, in fact, glowing. I'll blame it on glow in the dark paint, yeah.
So, we make it to a rich house- Paulina. Ten bucks says she's gonna glomp me. It's going to be a long night. So far the fangirls have stayed away, but not for long. Gulp.
I tentatively knock the door, wishing all the world that this was another house. Under the code of the trick or treating I can not leave any candy house untapped. It's, like, law or something. Same with having to have at least one candy bar before you get home, despite your parents warning of knives and razorblades hidden in caramel apples.
As expected, the moment she opens the door she jumps on me and screams. and screams. and screams. It's so shrill I swear it'd give dolphins a migraine. It'd wake the dead. It even puts Hillary Duff to shame, and that's saying something.
I barely manage to free myself while yelling "It's Danny Fenton, get off me!" before Sam gets a machete out of somewhere and holds it up to Paulina. Sam must have a hell of a lot of pockets, where else does she keep those thermoses?
Paulina stares for a moment before screaming bloody murder and flying into the house, calling, "EW! LOSER SWEAT!" Oh yeah. Even when I really am Phantom I'm a loser, great. You have to love these bipolar fangirls. You come as your superhero costume, they throw themselves at you. You come in your normal costume, and you're scum on the bottom of their shoe. Irony just loves me.
Alright then. Now, we go to the next house, where we see there is a party we didn't get invited too. Like that's anything new, I'm still some loser nobody with freak parents that belong in a mental institution, an overly protective teacher's pet of a sister, a girl obsessed techno geek best friend, and a Gothic Vegetarian for my other best friend. Geez, my life sucks doesn't it?
Anyway, case and point, we get thrown out and into the bushes, landing on our butts. I look into the bushes, where I find some nice little squirrels... Who try to bite my glowing head off. These must be the mutant squirrels that hung around Axion labs, Sam had this huge protest against the chemical waste the place is churning out. Really, if it makes squirrels into carnivorous beasts out for my flesh, I agree with her.
A jerk out of the bushes and zap them with a tiny ectoblast, and the squirrels come out hissing. Yes, hissing. Like some deranged snake-rat hybrid that got stuck in a wall socket. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if that's what they started as. You know, Vlad's genetic mishaps and all of that. Speaking of which, I haven't seen Danielle in a while... Maybe she turned to goop.
I shouldn't think like that, you and I both know who's listening. I still wonder how a clone of me turned into a girl. You know, considering I'm a guy. Don't even get me started on the whole nursery thing, it was a mistake! A MISTAKE I SAY!
--I should talk to Jazz sometime, it'd do me some good. You know, psychological help. If I told it to anyone else my halfa status would be more public than the life of Ryan Seacrest. I think that's how you spell it, I don't watch American Idol. The singing gives me a migraine like you would not believe. I swear a few of them have been on tabs with Tucker, and that is really saying something.
Anyway, ghostly creations aside, I really need to find a way to get rid of these damn squirrels. Here are my options. A, shoot them and reveal my secret identity. Yeah right, I'll get carted off to the loony bin and get zapped and poked and cut to pieces. The things they might do to me if they ever caught me... Needles, needles, everywhere, and no painkiller in sight. There goes that.
B, run screaming and look like a total moron. That could work. Sure I'd be shunned by society, High school, and the human race, but I wouldn't get attacked by rabid squirrels. Would that really be worth it? Ah heck, I'm only a hair above the band geeks, I don't need a daily swirly. I'm still scarred from that incident with cleaning dad's bathroom, I think there's still a hole in the floor from that acidic waste.
C, snag a piece of meat from Tucker's bag, throw it, and hope to high heck they like it better then they do halfa. Tucker never goes anywhere without at least a few pieces of meat on him, it's his security blanket, like his PDA. If I could just throw it hard enough they may just decide to go after it instead of me.
With little better to do, I grab a rib from Tucker's bag and throw it off into the distance. The two squirrels look at each other and start chirping. I think it's chirping, anyway. A little hard to tell. Then, as if planned, one goes after the steak and the other goes for my throat faster than you can say 'what's it going to do, twitch it's nose at me!"
Now, you see, as odd as Amity Park is, it is not every day you see a kid trying to fight off a glowing squirrel. That's more of a biweekly occurrence. Anyway, people stop to gawk at me as I try to slap the squirrel away, repeatedly hitting myself in the process. By the time I finally hit the thing I've given myself a black eye and a bruise the size of Milwaukee.
The squirrel runs off to find it's buddy, who is currently ravaging the rib like a beaver does to wood. Well, more like a beaver mixed with a T-rex. Damn vicious things probably had ghost rabies, ack, I am so glad I'm only half ghost right then...
After a long, drawn out speech from Sam about cruelty to small carnivorous freakish genetic experiments sent by my Arch Enemy to slay me, we begin the trek back ward, toward home. I've had enough for the night, as have my strangled throat, clawed arms, and thrown-onto-butt. This night has not been fun.
So... Random fangirl and animal attacks through, we see my house coming to view. That is, until my parents see me and get out the Fenton bazooka. No use trying to fight, I'm still some every day trick or treater, not a super hero, remember? Get it? Got it? Good. I only wish they'd figure that out. Heck, they don't even think I'm a super hero, they blast at me. If my dad could hit the broad side of a barn (which he can't, by the way. He overshot it by a good three feet) I'd probably have been ripped apart molecule by molecule several times over. Don't you just love parents?
"Mom, dad, it's me, Danny! Not Phantom, Danny Fenton! DON'T SHOOT ME!" I yelp as they scamper over. Well, not really scamper... More steamroll over every other being in the area, trip over a rock, kill themselves, the end. Oh wait, that's the dinosaur story Jazz used to tell me when I asked for a story! It's the shortest story in existence!
Once Upon a time there was a dinosaur who lived in a house. One day he decided to go for a walk, tripped over a rock, and killed himself. The end.
...That's it. That's the dinosaur story. I used it for English class once and got a D. That's just how much my sister enjoys making up stories. She must steal those excuses she uses on mom and dad, she could never do them herself! IT'S A CONSPIRACY! A CONSPIRACY I SAY!
...You know what, forget it. I'll cut to the chase. They tripped over and landed on their faces, the Fenton bazooka hitting me clean in the face. Yep. Out of a hundred possible directions, it hits me right in the head. Don't you just love karma? I curse karma out, it throws stuff at me, I curse it out, it throws stuff at me... An endless cycle, really.
I fall backward as the aforementioned device topples over, landing on my already sore butt, my candy spilling all over. Great, even when they're convinced I'm not evil I still get hit by their damn weapons. Why is it that whenever some deity gets ticked off I'm the one who suffers for it? Who chose me to be the damn bearer of the world's mistakes?
...I'm turning into a goth, aren't I? I knew I shouldn't have let Sam drag me off to that goth poetry corner, that it'd come back to haunt me. I don't want to turn goth, I can't do black! Wait a second, I'm wearing black now... Ah, screw it, I'm going home.
As I stood to return to my beloved bed, mustard stains, ecto burns and all, I see something twittering on the ground I can barely make out, thank you city's budget on public lighting. Something furry taking a bar... No, my kit kat bar! Why do they insist on torturing me, the damn squirrels... Hey, give that back!
Of course, the final cherry of this wondrous night- one of those squirrels came out of nowhere and stole my kitkats, my Hershey's, and worst of all, my Reeses, while I was lying on the ground, chittered at me, and scrambled off. I would have eaten those Reeses too, they were still safely wrapped on the ground. I got attacked by my parents, Valerie, Paulina, and mutant squirrels, all in the same night. This night sucked.
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You probably want to know about the Health Insurance thing. I actually got a voucher for twenty dollars off Health Insurance once, it was a real life experience right there. Needless to say, I never used it,. I laughed about it good and hard afterward, though.. As for the dinosaur story... Replace 'Jazz' with 'author's dad' and you'll have it. Yeah, I know he's a lazy git. But that's why we get along so well.