A/N: Thanks for the reviews. There are a lot of flashbacks in this chapter. In fact, most of this story is going to be one big flashback. I promise to try and keep it as entertaining as possible though...while doing my best to keep everyone in character.
Remy: Well at least I got a mention in this fiction.
Blonda: Who cares? I didn't even get cast as a lousy extra!
Remy: What about your anti-fairy counterpart? Won't she be in this story?
Blonda: And just what does that have to do with me? I'm the original; I should be starring in this farce of a story!
Me: :glares threateningly: Farce?
Blonda: Eheh, did I say 'farce'? I meant—um—course! Of course! My car is double parked. Ahahaha...gotta go! Let's do lunch sometime. Have your people call my people. Ta-ta!
Poof!
Getaway!
Remy: :smirks: Who says only the wealthy can be intimidating?
Me: Darn right, respect the power of the vengeful author! Mwuhahahaha!
Remy: Okay...now you're scaring me. And what's with the flashlight?
Double Trouble
Chapter Two: Carl Poofy Pants Anti-Fairy High
It was around 3:15 that afternoon when a moping middle-schooler came stomping into his upstairs bedroom. His clothes were all tattered and torn, his face smudged with dirt (along with a few cuts and bruises), and his hair was a real mess with a twig jutting out from under his pink hat.
"My life stinks!" he yelled flailing his fists in the air.
Inside the fishbowl his temporary godparents quickly flew upwards and changed back into anti-fairies.
"Hold you tongue child!" Anti-Cosmo hissed.
"Yeah!" his wife glanced about nervously, "If that tough punk Jorgen hears ya we'll be hauled off back to that jailhouse!"
"Well you'd shout too if you'd had the miserable day I've had!" Timmy pointed an accusing finger to the floating duo.
"Oh please," Anti-Cosmo scoffed, "don't be so melodramatic Timmy. I'm sure you're just overreacting. Your day couldn't have gone that bad."
"Ohyeah?"
Slinging his book bag across the room Timmy prepared to regale his temporary godparents with the 'fascinating' story of his 'not-so-miserable' day.
...Flashback (Timmy's POV)...
"First there was my trip to school..."
"Hi Timmy!" a geeky kid with a boil so huge it took up half his face waved to Timmy as he stepped up into the bus. "Wanna sit next to me?"
"Um, no thanks Elmer." Timmy slowly started backing away. Not to be mean but Elmer's boil was just creepy. Something that big probably had a mind of its own. That would explain why it kept wobbling like that when Elmer hadn't budged.
Timmy was surprised to find that his usual seat on the bus (which was large enough to accommodate three people) was filled!
"Sanjay!" Timmy couldn't believe that his foreign exchange student back-up friend had stolen his seat like that!
"Hello Timmy!" Sanjay beamed from behind his thick rimmed glasses.
Leaning forward A.J. waved to his pal, "Hey Timmy, Sanjay and I are assigned project buddies for the social studies project on multiculturalism. So he's gonna be sitting with me while we take some notes to use in our research paper."
"Isn't that great?" Sanjay was obviously happy to move up closer in the circle of friends.
"No, it's not great!" Timmy fumed, "Where am I supposed to sit?"
"Hm," A.J. scanned the rows of seats and shrugged, "it looks like the only available seat (not reserved for the popular kids) is over there next to Elmer."
Timmy glanced over to Elmer who patted the seat invitingly wearing the world's dorkiest grin.
The grouchy bus driver turned back and shouted, "Hey kid! Sit down already will ya? I've got a schedule to keep here!"
Cringing Timmy reluctantly sat down beside the 'Boil Kid' as the bus started moving. The first pothole they hit jolted everyone inside and poor Timmy wound up with a blemish in the eye.
"So that explains why your eye's all swollen up like that." Anti-Wanda observed.
"Yeah and it gets worse!" Timmy snapped.
"Alright class now it's time to find your project partner and continue gathering notes for your research paper on multiculturalism. Which is due NeXt MoNdAy!"
Sighing Timmy slumped forward in his seat and let his head hit the desk as Elmer scooted over with an enormous stack of reference materials.
"Boy Timmy," he exclaimed enthusiastically, "this is so great! Being partners and all, we're gonna have tons of fun learning all about the different cultures that make up our country's rapidly growing diverse population!"
"Ugh..." Timmy groaned, "...too much...information. Brain...on fire."
"TURNER!"
The raspy cry startled Timmy causing him to bolt upright in his chair. "WHAT? WHO? WHERE?"
Clearing his throat the dark haired teacher lowered his tone in an effort to sound more professional (and authoritative). "I know this may seem unfair to you. Having the same teacher for almost three years in a row since the new middle school was built offering new jobs and promotions for the staff of Dimmsdale Elementary. And I know that it probably came as a big surprise when I was one of the teachers to transfer here (along with Mr. Berkinbake, Principle Waxelplax, and that janitor who always complains) but do try to buck up. After all," he leaned forward with a menacing grin, "we'll have the rest of your junior high career to crack down on your learning skills."
Reluctantly Timmy reached into his book bag and pulled out a pencil and some paper. "Okay okay, c'mon Elmer, let's get started."
"Excellent," Mr. Crocker turned away and started walking back to the dry erase board muttering to himself under his breath, "And when your brain in numb from heaps of useless knowledge I'll interrogate you once again on your deepest, most personal secrets and finally prove to the world that you have FaIrY GoDpArEnTs!"
Most of the students didn't react but those who had never had him before looked completely freaked out by his series of painful looking spasms. Denzel Crocker merely returned to his desk and started grading papers (stamping Fs on most) and plotting new ways to prove the existence of fairy godparents.
"Timmy, while both of these events do seem unfortunate they hardly account for your disheveled and battered appearance." Anti-Cosmo pointed out.
"Hang on would ya?" Timmy grumbled, "I'm getting to that. Next came lunch..."
"YO TIMMY!" the alien prince in the dreamy guy human disguise flagged down his pal.
He usually ate lunch with the others at their 'clique' designated table on the far side of the lunchroom.
Sanjay and Elmer were already chowing down. Chester and A.J. were emerging from the lunch line with their trays full of 'nutritious' food.
"Man," A.J. moaned, "I hate Tuesdays."
"What's wrong with Tuesdays?" Chester asked, "Tuesday is Tuna and Bean Casserole Surprise Day! It's the greatest!"
A.J. and Timmy fought back a wave of nausea as Chester began inhaling his food—face first—right off the tray.
"Gross!" A.J. gagged, "If you're actually gonna eat that slop at least use a spoon or something!"
The trio made their way over to the table and took their seats. Timmy was just glad that he was able to sit between Mark and Chester instead of getting stuck with Elmer again.
Using his oversized chompers to bite a large chunk out of his apple he nearly choked to death when a shrill voice suddenly sang out behind him. "Hi Timmy!"
TOOTIE! Timmy's mind screamed in panic.
Spinning around he nearly smacked right into the brace-faced girl with the ebony pigtails. His biggest fan/stalker. Hn, while you may be able to pick your friends you apparently can't pick your fan club.
"What'cha doin'?" Tootie couldn't help but get all weak-kneed around the startled pre-teen. Ahh...he's so dreamy! Especially since he started letting his hair grow out. And that new shirt. What a hunk!
Seeing the gooey expression on her face Timmy knew he didn't have long until things got mushy. "I'm—uh—kinda busy right now Tootie."
He glanced around frantically before his gaze fell on the opposite side of the table, "Elmer and I are heading off to the library to finish up our research!"
"We are?" Elmer seemed baffled then elated, "Cool!"
Quiet you fool! The boil had started wobbling again. If he keeps this up he'll learn our secret!
"Oh," Tootie seemed disheartened but only for a minute, "well that's okay. Veronica and I are starting on our rough draft soon anyway. Good luck Timmy!" she started walking off towards—off all places—the popular table! "See you next period for pre-algebra!"
"Phew," Timmy slumped down on the bench, "that was a close one."
Ack, pre-algebra. His fleeting moment of relief ended just as soon as it had begun. Another class that Crocker teaches. It's like he's determined to hound me all the way through high school! Better plan on attending an out of state college.
Standing up he followed Elmer over to the trashcans to toss in the remnants of their barely touched meals. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Crocker hunched over the Fairy Tracker as he skulked down the hall. Sigh, maybe I'll just join the marines?
A whole hoard of anti-fairies must have been tailing him around school that day because at that precise moment he stepped right in a pile of what could barely pass for mashed potatoes.
"AAAHH!" he screamed as he fell backwards colliding with the unfortunate person standing behind him, which just happened to be...
"TRIXIE TANG!" he yelped when he noticed the familiar pair of white boots the person beneath him was wearing.
"TIMMY!" she shrieked, her tray of leftover food (the gourmet meal of sirloin stake and baked potato) lay on the ground with its contents splattered everywhere. "You've ruined my new sweater! And just look at my hair!"
"Trixie—I—I'm sorry—I-"
"Cuddly minx!" a snobbish voice exclaimed.
Trixie cast a pouty look to her rich, high class boyfriend. "Oh Remy poo!" she whined as he helped her to her feet. With a snap of his fingers a butler arrived to dust her off.
"How dare you!" Remy snapped at Timmy who was left to pick himself up off the floor.
"Hey, it was an accident! I-"
"Save it Turner!" Remy replied snippily as he led his girlfriend (Timmy's longtime crush) away in a very gentleman-like manner, "No one cares what excuses a middle class klutz like you can contrive."
Seething Timmy put a hand to his mouth and shouted, "That's UPPER middle class!"
Anti-Cosmo couldn't (or more like wouldn't) suppress a laugh. "So that's where all the food stains and possibly a bruise or two came from! You were publicly humiliated you dupe!"
"That's not the half of it!" Timmy exclaimed furiously, "For the real topper you have to hear what happened AFTER school."
The final bell rang and at last Timmy was free to go home. Since he didn't have a late bell to beat he could walk instead of hustling out to the bus. Which was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing...
"Hey Turner," came a malicious chuckle, "heard you were having a bad day. So I came to make it worse."
Timmy slouched in place when he heard that voice. It was the voice of doom. From the shadows by the dumpster a gray figure emerged. It could only be one guy...Francis the bully.
"Aw great." Timmy was almost too tired to care...almost.
Using what must have been his last reserve of energy he bolted off down the sidewalk in a desperate sprint for his house. Unfortunately for him years of bullying had made Francis rather spry and the malicious thug had little trouble catching up.
"You're gonna get it now Turner," Francis smirked as he tackled the panting pre-teen and yanked him up by his shirt collar until he was eye level. "At first I was just gonna rough ya up a little bit but now-" Timmy gulped as his enemy's ruthless smirk grew wider, "-I'm gonna pound the yellow right out of ya."
The last thing Timmy saw before he clenched his eyes shut was a huge gray fist.
...End of Flashback (Return to Normal POV)...
"Well," Anti-Wanda remarked as she studied his pulverized body, "he sure made good on his threat. You're all black and blue now—maybe a little bit purple—but I don't see no yella anywhere."
"Thanks a lot." Timmy scoffed.
"Oh fine then," Anti-Cosmo folded his arms in consent, "we'll tag along with you tomorrow so you don't get thrashed the minute you walk out the door. Happy?"
"Hardly."
"Well too bad," Anti-Cosmo returned to his own agenda, "because we've got some bonding to do and your job is to sit down and be quiet while Anti-Wanda and I explain how we first met!"
"Oh you start it off sug and I'll slap some bandages on all these scrapes and bruises!" Anti-Wanda offered.
Anti-Poof!
First Aid!
"Good idea." Anti-Cosmo nodded. Clearing his throat he set the scene, "It was a typically ghastly day in Anti-Fairy World when the new school year began and I embarked upon my first day as a freshman at Carl Poofy Pants Anti-Fairy High. Up until then I had been home schooled, mostly self taught. You see I've always been a bit of an over achiever and though knowledge was something I excelled at gaining I was eager to experience life amongst the simple non-geniuses. What better way than to immerse myself in the droll experience of public school? I was soon to find that the reception by my peers was to be a tad different than I'd previously anticipated..."
...Flashback (Anti-Cosmo POV)...
The bell rang as I emerged from the office with my schedule for the first semester. It was filled with the usual boring subjects: geometry, biology, world history and the like. You see like humans most magical creatures attend school to become aware of the basic knowledge one needs to survive in an ever changing, constantly progressing world. It was just a shame that my gifted mind would be forced to endure more of an already mastered series of subjects.
On my way to class I happened across a rather amusing scene. Two brutes were accosting another student at his locker. I was later to learn that the two 'gentlemen' went by the names of Anti-Luther and Anti-Binky. The build on the first one was nothing to quiver about but the sheer brutality displayed by the second gave me reason to raise my guard. This Anti-Binky seemed to be the more fearsome of the two.
Once the target of their aggression had been tightly crammed into his locker they turned, took a moment to admire their handiwork, slammed the door, and then floated off laughing most cruelly.
I dare say that if I had a shred of sympathy it would've gone out to the lowly reject. But seeing as how I don't, I was content to float right on by.
Or that is...I would have left the scene as it was had it not been for a tall oafish fairy who couldn't have hoped to intimidate a toddler with his soft spoken voice and wimpy demeanor.
He gently opened the door (after tugging a few times) and helped the battered student out into the hall.
"My goodness Anti-Wandissimo," he spoke in obvious concern, "are you alright?"
Something about his accent reminded me of a Swiss organ grinder. All he needed was a feathered cap and a monkey and he would've been all set.
"Sí, gracias Professor von Strangle."
A professor? Oh it was to laugh! No wonder the scoundrels ran ramped in this school. With authorities figures like him it was amazing that the walls weren't completely covered in graffiti by now! Not that they weren't well on their way to being so. I mean really, the place was a dump!
"Please," the taller anti-fairy put up his hands in a gesture of modesty, "call me Anti-Jorgen. There is no need for such formalities. I like to consider myself one of the students, a friend!"
At this point I feared I might wretch. Teachers longing to befriend their students? Now there was a concept fit for Saturday morning cartoon shows!
"Ah, I see we have another new student lost in the halls today."
Oh great, I moaned, he's noticed me.
"And how are you this morning?" the professor persisted.
I'm sure the expression on my face was quite sour because the two idiots immediately went about their separate ways allowing me to pass.
With a quick glance down at my schedule I was disgusted to discover that my first class would be gym. Ooo...how I HATED physical exercise. It did absolutely nothing to stimulate the brain. The greatest challenge would be dodging my sweat covered peers who'd be making half-hearted attempts at showering in the boys' locker room.
And sure enough the moment I sat foot inside I was aghast at all the smelly, grungy, and utterly uncivilized oafs who cluttered the tile covered maze of lockers and benches.
One particular oaf decided to make himself of a particular annoyance to me...
"Señor!" a hearty slap on the back sent my monocle flying off my face. I was grateful for the cord that prevented it from shattering on the floor. Perhaps the cord may serve yet another purpose for this amiable nuisance?
Spinning around with fangs (and braces) bared I came face-to-face with the same dolt from before. "Well if it isn't the locker inspector." I remarked scathingly. Best to be harsh with my comments now so as to deter fools like him from 'buddying-up' to me.
To my dismay the foreign wimp merely chuckled warmly, "Ah yes, you've no doubt witnessed my encounter with Anti-Binky and his lackey then? Never to fear, for next time it shall be I who has the last laugh!"
I cocked an eyebrow, clearly this moron was a glutton for punishment. Well that should ensure that he'd be out of my way by no later than mid November.
"My name is Anti-Wandissimo," he extended a hand for me to shake. Hn, not likely, his was not an acquaintance I cared to make.
After noting my refusal to shake hands he shrugged and continued with his mindless drabble, "This way amigo, I will show you to your locker. You're in luck, it is right next to mine. I suppose that makes us, how do you say...'locker buddies'?"
His eager expression was enough to make me sick. Such a well meaning, oblivious, cheerful dolt. I hated him already.
"Yes I suppose our lockers are adjacent to one another, if that's what you mean." I commented absently. Upon opening my locker I found a pair of navy gym shorts and a black sleeveless t-shirt. Ugh, crudely maintained and fashion deprived. This school is a nightmare.
"Come amigo," Anti-Wandissimo gestured for me to follow him out the double doors, "the coach has ordered everyone out onto the track field."
How I despised that word 'amigo'. Why did this dolt insist on behaving as if we were old chums? Reluctantly I shut my locker door, finished lacing my running shoes, and followed him outside.
...End of Flashback (Normal POV)...
Timmy lay sprawled across his bed fighting off drossiness. Anti-Cosmo's lame story was enough to put any kid to sleep. He'd actually found himself wishing that Cosmo's evil counterpart would devise some sinister plot that would distract him from reminiscing and preoccupy his all too advanced brain with scheming.
"Am I boring you child?" Anti-Cosmo demanded angrily.
"Yes!" Timmy snapped, "That story stinks and all those big words are giving me a headache! I feel like I'm stuck back in English class again!"
"Well forgive me for having a richly developed vocabulary," Anti-Cosmo replied sarcastically and crossed his arms.
"Aw but you was just gettin' to the best part!" Anti-Wanda whined.
"Heh, it's not like he could've gotten any worse." Timmy muttered.
Anti-Cosmo glared, "Fine! I've had enough of your insolence for one day. Anti-Wanda do be a dear and continue with the story. Perhaps your 'unique' style of narration will better suit young Turner's 'special' needs."
"Okie dokie," Anti-Wanda agreed, "but I should probably warn ya, I's gots me a third grade readin' level so stop me if I goes over yer head."
Snickering Timmy promised to do so.
"Ya see I had my gym class in the same period as Anti-Cosmo. So's I was out there runnin' laps with the other girls when I spotted him and the rest of the boys comin' out onto the field..."
...Flashback Continued (Anti-Wanda's POV)...
They was all lined up in the center when me and Anti-Plumey came round on our second lap.
"Alright now listen up," that coach fella hollered, "here at Carl Poofy Pants Anti-Fairy High we take great pride in our athletes. Physical education is a highly encouraged elective course. It builds character, bulks you up, and teaches discipline to young nasal strips like you!"
I noticed Anti-Cosmo standing over at the end of the line a rollin' his eyes and tunin' out the coach's rant.
"Psst, amigo?"
And then I seen him turn around and glare mighty wicked like at the foreign kid standin' beside him.
"This lecture stuff bores you, no?" Anti-Wandissimo smiled, "You are like me then. A man of action! No time for talk, it is all swordplay and villainy."
"And what would you know about villainy?" Anti-Cosmo questioned suspiciously.
"More than you'd think señor," Anti-Wandissimo winked, "But shh! The coach is coming, we shall talk more later."
I'm not sure what that young feller was goin' on about but it sure seemed to get on Anti-Cozzie's nerves. And I should know, I've done it tons of times myself!
"So Anti-Wanda," my pal Anti-Plumey elbowed me in the side and motioned over towards the boys who was all down a doin' push-ups, "anyone catch your eye?"
"No sir, my daddy told me to keep ahold of my stuff during the first week of school." she must've thought I was crazy or somethin', tossin' my own eye around! I ain't no dern You-Doo Doll! "He said high school bullies can be awful mean towards us freshmen."
I didn't see a fly but one must've landed on her nose cause she went and smacked herself square in the face! "NO! I mean do you think any of those boys over there are cute?"
"Do I what?" That was a surprise. I thought I was here for learnin' not courtin'. But I went ahead and took a good look at 'em anyway.
Not too shabby, that one on the end looks mighty sharp. I found myself thinking, which was really unusual for me. And that scrawny one next to him ain't too bad neither.
I told Anti-Plumey and she went and called over two more of the girls. Anti-Goldie and Anti-Puff came a zippin' right over.
"Girls you won't believe it. It's the first day of school and Anti-Wanda's already crushing on TWO guys!" and purty soon they was all gigglin' like a bunch of—well—like a bunch of giddy farm girls!
"So who are they?" Anti-Goldie asked.
"Over there," Anti-Plumey was all too happy to point 'em out to her.
"Them?" Anti-Puff seemed to disapprove. "I don't know Anti-Wanda; they look an awful lot like geeks to me."
Anti-Goldie flew off and chatted with another group of girls while we waited for the equipment and stuff to get drug out onto the field. She wasn't gone no time when she came zippin' back yammering on about all the 'dirt' she'd just dug up on 'em.
"Anti-Wandissimo?" Anti-Plumey repeated.
"Yeah, word is he's a foreign exchange student. They only expect him to stay for the year before he transfers back to the other district." Anti-Goldie smiled all smuggish-like.
"I bet he has a dreamy accent," Anti-Plumey started to drift off into one of her daydreams.
"Maybe," Anti-Goldie shrugged, "but he's built like a twig. Too bad the foreign guy had to go and be a wimp."
"Now that ain't nice Goldie," I scolded her. It just wasn't right to be pickin' on someone for not bein' buff. I never could quite understand why girls liked that so much. "Maybe where he comes from muscles is a bad thing?"
"Well what about that other guy?" Anti-Puff reminded her.
"Oh him," Anti-Goldie waved her off, "nobody knows that much about him except that his name is Anti-Cosmo and he's been home schooled most his life."
"Ya mean he's learnin' to build homes?" I asked, gettin' all confused again.
"No I mean he's been hiding in his mommy's house cause he's too scared to come to school and face his braver, more socially inclined peers." Anti-Goldie answered primpin' her bouncy faded blue curls.
"Well then I'd better go over and say 'hey'." I figured it was the least I could do to help him overcome his social fears...whatever those were.
"Hn, you'd better hurry," Anti-Goldie huffed, "Cause here comes Ms. Sledge with our gym equipment."
"I'll come with you!" Anti-Plumey volunteered, she always did stick to me like mayonnaise to wheat bread.
"Me too!" Anti-Puff chirped, Anti-Goldie had already flown off again to gossip some more. I swear her lips flapped more than a trout on dry land!
So we all three went over to the boys when their coach told 'em to 'take five'. I was the first one to say something; I guess the other girls were shy. They clammed up tighter than a stool pigeon in the crosshairs!
"Well hey there!"
Anti-Cosmo was a sittin' on the bottom bleacher retying his shoe while Anti-Wandissimo lay back relaxing.
"Well hello ladies." the foreign boy was the first one to talk, "I am Anti-Wandissimo my lovelies, and who—may I ask—are you?"
The girls exchanged uneasy glances behind me. I could tell that they really wasn't all that impressed by his flirtin'. To be honest, neither was I.
"I'm Anti-Wanda and this here is my pal Anti-Plumey. And that one tryin' to slip away is Anti-Puff." Boy howdy did she ever look like a weasel caught in the hen house!
"Hi there," Anti-Puff waved shyly.
"Nice meeting you," Anti-Plumey added.
"A pleasure ladies," Anti-Wandissimo noticed his pal wasn't paying us no attention so he grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a little shake, "this is my friend Anti-Cosmo."
"Friend?" Anti-Cosmo glared over at him threatening-like before looking over at us.
At first he was still bent on giving us the same expression but when he locked eyes with me those green eyes got all bulgy and I'm purty sure we both felt a jolt of some kind.
Of course you wouldn't have known it to hear him talk...
"I take it you're the 'brains' of the outfit." Now even I could tell that was meant to be insultin'.
Apparently his friend could too. Cause right away he smacked him upside the arm and turned back to us to apologize. "You must forgive my friend ladies. His manners are somewhat non-existent."
Anti-Plumey and Anti-Puff just huffed and turned to leave.
"C'mon Anti-Wanda," the last one called over her shoulder, "Ms. Sledge is passing out the equipment and we don't want to get in trouble."
"You're an anti-fairy," I heard Anti-Cosmo mumbled, "Trouble should be your middle name."
In spite of myself I went and smiled at that. I wasn't too sure if he noticed or not but his friend sure seemed to be lookin' me up and down awful hard. If I didn't know better I'd think I had myself an admirer!
...(Normal POV)...
"She is a nice piece of work eh amigo?" Anti-Wandissimo whispered to his 'friend'.
Anti-Cosmo scowled and pretended to be uninterested. The truth was he too had felt that certain jolt when he had first locked eyes with the swirly haired teen. He tried to play it off as if the sensation had never happened. But something had occurred during that brief introduction. Something that kept his attention drifting back to the pink eyed young woman and his gaze shifting her way as she jumped rope by the fence.
Amanda/Artiste: Ahh...love at first sight. Well...sorta. But it looks like someone else has eyes for Anti-Wanda. ;-) Next Chapter: Anti-Cosmo finds himself unable to concentrate due to a certain swirly haired temptress he met during gym. Little does he know that Anti-Wandissimo is having the same problem. Who will make the first move? And just what—if anything—is going through Anti-Wanda's head? Please review, no flames but constructive criticism is welcome.