Author's Notes: Stuff...

Chapter 5- Oliver The Homicidal Neighbour

John carefully poured the bathroom water sample into an unbreakable and sealed tube. He placed it into its protective case and placed the entire thing into a box. He added some of Wendy's cookies for good measure and taped the box with his industrial roll of tape. He wrote the address of the Labs on it and made a mental note to send it off next time he went into town.

John... no, he had to start thinking of himself in his alias. Johnny sat at the table, bored. Very, very bored. He had already unpacked Headquarters food package. Usually he wasn't too thrilled that he had to eat canned items but on this assignment he felt joy bubble inside as he pulled out fifty cans of skettios. He really, REALLY did not want to end up like the townspeople, If the problem really was in their water... or food.

John...ny twiddled his thumbs. Oh, wait... he was planning on visiting 775. Assured of a new purpose he leaped up and proceeded to put on his boots with only three hundred winces. He valiantly flung the door open and slammed it behind him, striding down the street to 775.

Ding... dong...

No answer.

Ding... dong...

No answer.

Ding... dong...

Johnny growled and contemplated smashing the nearby window in with his fist ,which was immediately followed by shock as he would have blown his cover quite fast performing that feat. He usually wasn't so violent and irritated—

The door creaked open ever so slightly."Yes?"

Johnny jumped and quickly plastered a smile on his face. "Hello! I'm from 777 and was just wondering-"

"Ooooh, you got the heaven house."

"...Yes. Anyway I was wondering—"

"See any ghosts yet?"

"No. Should I have?"

"Maybe. The last occupant said he saw ghosts."

"Oh. Well, no, I haven't."

"Too bad."

"Uh-huh... well, anyway I was just wondering what you know about Timothy. He seems like such a nice kid but-"

The door swung open and Johnny stepped back in shock. Oliver grinned at him, eyes wide. "Little Tim-Tim! Oh, I could tell so much about him! Oh... but maybe he doesn't want me to. Oh well, I think everyone should know about Tim-Tim!"

Oliver grabbed Johnny's arm and pulled him inside. Johnny tried to quell the urge to hit him and settled for gazing around the man's house. The entire place was even worse on the inside; peeling paint, various unsettling stains, broken glass and various odds and ends. Oliver sat on a milk crate and motioned for Johnny to take a chair. Said man did and hoped it wouldn't collapse on him as it creaked and moaned.

"So... whaddya wanna know?"

"Um... what kind of kid is he?"

"He's... quiet." Oliver snickered, "He's real nice... despite that fleabag of his always twisting his mind."

"Fleabag?"

"That stupid cat. Speaking in tongues and trying to get Tim-Tim to burn things. It's an evil flea-infested ball of static!"

Johnny blinked. "Okay. I think I'll leave now. Thanks for the information..."

"Oh my, completely forgot!" Oliver stood and extended a calloused hand. "Oliver Helding."

Johnny took his hand and shook once. "Johnny C."

"Nice ta meetcha, Johnny C. Be sure to stop by anytime!"

Oliver walked over to the door and opened the creaking aperture.

"Oh, yes, I'll be certain to stop by... sometime." Johnny walked back to his house in deep thought. He had a suspect for all the strange murders yet... something seemed off about Oliver... about the whole city, really. Johnny absently walked around a cat sleeping on the sidewalk. He couldn't be sure... but something was wrong with this scenario.