So sorry for the wait! Feel free to flame me! School has been EVIL. One hundred twenty hand written pages on the Diary of Anne Frank, a Newspaper Article from 1750, a book report, and a presentation on how to plant a flower bulb -.-
That, and my muses have abandoned me to engage warfare on each other. Meh.
Anyway, without further ado, I give you... A Danny Phantom Christmas!
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny phantom, Twinkie, Foamy the Squirrel, the Wii, Gamestop, Spatula city, UHF, Reeses, Monty Python, Costco, MythBusters, Invader Zim, Rugrats,
Christmas with the Fentons
"What do you mean you shot Santa with the Fenton Bazooka?!"
It's Christmas time here in Amity Park, and things are going swell... Okay, you know I'm lying. Since when does life EVER go swell for me? I'm forever cursed as the punching bag for temperamental all powerful beings! Branded since the moment I popped out and started wailing away!
...Say, why'd you miss Thanksgiving, anyway? You missed a radioactive Turkey trying to chew my toes off... You know, it's better you didn't see it... Wait do you mean that's what you're seeing next time?! Ah man...
Ack, why do I do this. I could be sitting in my room toiling away at Lancer's report, but no, I'm here Christmas shopping... Oh yeah, that's why... Remember, you're doing this for the moon rock... Moon Rock...
Oh, what now? I wasn't talking to myself! I'm not crazy! Take away those men in the nice white coats! Take them AWAY!
...OH,You want to know what I'm talking about? That's new, usually I just blabber on and on and you sit there and laugh at my misery... Like that's new...
Anyway, moon rock... Some creepy girl said she'd give me a moon rock if I talked about my trip to the mall to shop for Christmas presents... Something tells me I shouldn't trust someone who gets drunk off Doctor Pepper(1), but hey, why would she lie to me?
...Don't answer. Don't. I'm me, I'm allowed to be a gullible, clueless pain in the ass. It's who I am, who my dad is, and who pretty much every male in my father's side of the family is. One wonders how so many generations of idiots managed to find a woman who didn't outright despise them, but hey, there's someone for everyone. I think...
Anyway, where was we before I started ranting about who's paying, blackmailing and/or threatening me to do this? Oh yeah, Christmas in Amity Park! Well, after last year's incident with the rhyming creep, I'm taking care to actually pretend to be nice. Hey, might as well let them think I don't want to tear out the windpipe of every caroler that goes by, right? But if those kindergarteners singing Jingle Bells come again for a fifth time it'll be war... War I say! War on the teetsy little things! Yes, haha!
...Okay, I'm done now. For now, anyway...
Oh yeah, Or permanently shut up the little screamers that crowd the mall every year to 'see Santa's Workshop' and 'tell Santa what they want for Christmas'. In other words, sit in the lap of some poor sap and start with the yelling and the screaming and the general annoying noises that emit from their gullets over how sweet and nice and kind they were that year (right in the face of, you know, the whole screaming thing...)
So... many... screaming... voices... 'I want a pony!' 'I want a dolly!' 'I want a Transformer!' Why won't the little brats just SHUT THE HECK UP?! Really, how hard is it for parents to tape their mouths closed or stuff them with a toilet plunger or DO SOMETHING to stop the noise wailing? I swear it can get on tabs with my ghostly wail, and they're completely mortal! ...Not that I'm not mortal, of course... dang it Clockwork, why did you have to... AHEM, private thoughts here...
Anyway, anyway, back to the high-decimal reading of those young voices. The least those elves could do is give free ear plugs to all the poor saps that have to go by there to get whatever the hell they want. Be fair, I've seen the ear plugs in their ears!
I mean, if I'm going to go by a hot dog at the food court, I don't need to hear migraine inducing yells of five year old ingrates while waiting in the half-a-freakin-hour long line to get the food when it takes so flippin' long that either I'm not hungry any more or I'm starving. Oh, the lines to get cofee are outrageous... Wow, longest word of the day. Anyway, I still wonder why it takes so long to get a pretzel or a slice of pizza or whatever the hell. Ask for it. Take it out of case. Pay for it. Go. That's it.
I thought everybody would be buying online this year, but no, they're herding around the stores like deer to a watering hole, like every year before... Or rats to a fresh corpse. Yeah, that's a batter analogy. Hundreds of starved, enraged rats all scratching and biting each other to get the choice bit first.
At least, that's what I felt Gamestop was like when I stopped by there to get the Wii Sam and I are getting Tuck as a joint present. Why are we doing a joint present, you ask? We're sharing because I have absolutely no creativity and would probably get something that he would hate and give back for store credit! It's in the Fenton genes to be idiots when it comes to other people.
Look at dad- he got mom a spatula for her birthday. Exactly like the three others he's given her. He gets them from a place called Spatula City... I think I heard that name in a Weird Al movie. Some loser gets his own TV Station and fills it with stupid shows idiots watch.. Idiots like me! I think it was called VHF.. IHF... UHF? I guess that's it. They have a creepy theme song, too... 'Spatula City, We Sell Spatulas!' Yeah, like I didn't guess that from the name. Yes, I'm sure Spatula City sells toasters and bedspreads and gumballs!
...Okay, deep breath Fenton. Sorry, but I still have a headache from trying to get that Wii at the damn store. I don't think there was enough space to even remotely qualify with the fire department standard. What would happen if, say, one of the consoles suddenly erupted in flame?We'd all be killed by funky Japanese game parts falling like a rain of fiery DEATH! We'd all be dead! Well, except me, I could go intangible...
Yeah, but then they might wonder how some fourteen year old twerp survived. Yeah, not too good for the whole 'secret identity' deal. I was already cutting it close when Jazz accidentally bleached my hair. Don't ask how she accidentally bleached my hair. It's a tale involving Reeses, back hair, Monty Python sketches, laundry, three charming orphans, and Twinkies. Lots and lots of TWINKIES.
Come to think of it, that reminds me of the present I got dad a couple weeks ago. You see, even though I'm hopeless at presents for females, I do have some idea of what other guys like. Particularly guys in my family because, as I'm sure you know, things tend to run in the family. Guess what they had at Costco when I went there to get a jumbo sized bag of Reeses?
An eighty year old Twinkie(2). I'm serious, the tag said 'Sell by 12-18-26', which was eighty years before the day I found it. Needless to say, I couldn't let such a rarity be wasted on someone who wouldn't appreciate it... Or rather, someone who wouldn't have to go to the hospital from smelling it, leave actually eating it. No, it could only go to one with such a strong stomach that eating a pastry twice their age would have no ill serious effects.
So, I got it for dad. You should have seen the sales' person's face, it was something between horror and relief. I guess they had heard of it... From what I know, the thing's sort of an urban legend around the food area. The killer pastry.
I got it partly to save some poor guy's life, as I need some serious karma points. If I want to make it to eighteen, then I am going to have to do something to please those guys. Especially after Clockwork decided to save my skin from being roasted alive by my jerky older self.
I still wonder how I turned into that thing. I mean, really, first of all, why would I go around killing random people. Sure I have some emotional bugs... Okay, I fried a cockroach alive for contaminating my most holy Reeses storage. I have anger issues and, if you ticked me off bad enough (like, say, having a car accident with a Reeses truck and stopping the shipment), then I would probably knock your head off. But really, for now reason at all? That's not me. At least, I don't think...
So sue me. The other thing is, how did I manage to live through war for ten years? I barely make it through peace time, how would I possibly survive battle? Maybe Vlad is bribing the guys upstairs to be good to him, and it converted over when we 'combined'? That's all I can come up with.
Anyway, back to the creepy Twinkie. The other reason is that it's Jazz's turn to clean up the lab's toilet this time. Good god, I hope I'm around when she has to clean the portal-to-hell. The look on her face! I'll have revenge for when she used the shower for so long that I had to use the lab's shower!
...Oh, the horror of bathing while encircled in a ring of dad's back hair. and the smell. At least I got out of school for a week because I got a rash on everything that touched the water. It still itches to think about...
Now, where the hell was I... Oh yes, trying to get Tucker's present. Right.
I swear there were fifty kids all yelling about this-person cutting them and how that-person needs to get to the back of the line. It was like... I don't know how to describe it. Somewhere between exterminating rats and being in the middle of a stampede of extremely large parrots. Oh wait, Foamy the Squirrel put it best! "these little children with the high pitched frequency of whining and yelling just drills itself right into your brain!"
Yeah, the squirrel saves my brain once more! Go Foaminions! Join the cult and fear the Squirrelly Wrath!
...First the screaming kids, now complaining kids. What's next, ranting, kids? ...Oh yeah, right. Too late. Damn genetics...
Once I finally got the damn game safely securely zipped up in my backpack (as some lunatic might steal it otherwise, and I can't afford my half of another one), I had to once again brave the screamers. Unfortunately, the 'workshop' is right at the entrance of the game shop, so I had to be in the epicenter of the noise. Come now, everybody say it with me- Kar-ma...
When I went out, the very first noise I heard was the yell of 'Santa, Santa, Santa! I want a dolly and a pony and a new dress and a pretty necklace and..."
You get the picture of the little four year old girl was whining to the guy in the red fuzzy suit. You know, in a creepy way, she looks sort of like that girl from that one show... The one about the babies that are extremely gullible and fooled by the main one's cousin? Carpet Critters, no... Floor finks, nah... Rug Rats? Maybe on that one. It's been too long since Nickelodeon had anything worthwhile that I haven't watched it in months. I've been converted to MythBusters and Foamy the squirrel, ala Tucker and Sam respectively.
I sort of feel bad for the guy in the suit. It's a Christmas miracle that he hasn't gone deaf. Maybe he has earplugs to filter it out. Yeah, that's it, how else can he stand it? Still, that doesn't make up for the fact that, chances are, some of the younger ones'll pee on him. That's gotta be sick, having little kid pee on your pants until your shift is over. Lord knows the things those kids eat, I mean, the amount of sugar in their systems... Eck.
Then he has the smell on him all day, too. It takes days to get that smell off, trust me, it happened to Sam when she had to take care of her two and four year old cousins. How they can be related to Sam is beyond me. They love pink and ponies, and ran screaming at the sight of Invader Zim. I mean, not even Jazz is that opposed to the show.
How can anybody be? Gir rocks their pathetic souls! and Zim is just... Awesome. You have to love how he's clueless, and yet, everybody is so much of an idiot that they never notice. It's sort of like me, in a creepy way. Except nobody knows... Nobody will ever know...
If you tell somebody, I will hunt you down and gut you like a FISH! For every person you tell it'll be an ectoblast to the head by morning! The same goes for anybody after my reeses... My precciousss... I will murder any and all who come within touching distance of my CHOCOLATE LOVE!
...Wow, that was new. Must be the holiday spirit or something, the damn git just wouldn't give up! Third time this week I had to send him back into the 'zone... It happened for the Fourth of July too- dead soldiers started popping up everywhere and shooting everything,particularly me! Don't I get enough of that History crap in school?! I have to deal with it in leisure time too, now? Great... I guess Murphy didn't get what he wanted for Christmas, or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Winter Solstice, or whatever it is he celebrates.
Well, at least my parents are acting somewhat normal this year. They're fighting over Santa again, like always. Logic versus Childhood beliefs... Geez, big contest there. I used to believe that ghosts didn't exist, but hey, look at me now.
My dad needs to give it up, the guy's either a fraud or a sadist! Breaking into houses, stealing food, and leaving what could be a bomb disguised as a gameboy! Not to mention that, but he always skips me! I never get what I want. No, I get stupid things like socks. I've gotten socks for every Christmas, what in the hell am I going to to do with socks what reindeer on them?!
Wait a second... Did I just go against dad's beliefs... Holy.
Maybe not everything is genetic, I'm the only one in my family that isn't normal... Maybe I have hope! Maybe I won't turn into a huge, hopeless fudge addict with back hair that turns into cement! Not all is lost! I might have a chance! Sing it with me! He's not insane, no, he ain't insane...
...What, no takers? Fine, be that way, imbeciles! You'll regret it when I rule the world with an iron fist! I shall force you all to be my slaves and will slowly torture you all into MINDLESS DRONES! Fear the wrath of DANNY!
...Where in the hell did that come from?
We'll ponder that later. Much. Later. Preferably when... 2116 people aren't watching. Geez, 2116? You guys need things to do other than watching my misery. Get a job you bum. Do something with your life, find a hobby. You know any video game out there you could be playing or something? I mean, seriously, who has time to read this crap...
Oh yeah, duh, you're reading stories about fictional characters that have no real effect on life! Of course you have to time to read this crap! It's not like you have a real life or anything!
Hey, wait, why'd I say that? I'm an idiot, where could I come up with something like that? Wait, what's this on my... THAT GIRL CHIPPED ME! I thought she was getting the silly string out my hair, but no, she was putting a microphone in! I'll get you, mark my words!
What did that girl say her name was... Oh yes, Mad Vlasters. I'll find you Mad Vlasters!
...Let's just forget this little incident, shall we? Good.
Now then, ahem... I believe I was ranting about Santa's workshop. Yes, that sounds right. I- Oh, crud, that's my cell... The holiday, spirit, again? Good lord... I'll be back, later...
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(1) My friend can actually do that. He gets drunk (or at least acts drunk) when he chugs Doctor Pepper. Between him drunk off Doctor Pepper, my other friend hyper off pasta (somehow), and me caffeine hyped off coffee, you'd be surprised that people are convinced we're sane. Convinced being the key term.
(2) I actually found this at Costco when I went there with my dad, except it was 7-06-22, and it was that exact day eighty years later when I found it. We didn't buy it, though- my dad was worried the dog would eat it and die for something.