What Could Have Been
Warning: This chapter contains really crude sexual humor. Please use your discretion while reading.
Chapter Sixteen "Without my dark side, I feel sterile..."
Courage stood outside the bathroom door waiting until the freaky barber emerged
"Are you-are you in a good place?" Courage asked, "Are your thoughts in a bad place?"
Fred gazed at him, his green eyes empty and then he nodded towards his bedroom.
"I don't wish for-" He nodded towards the stairs, indicating that he didn't want Muriel to overhear them.
A year ago, Fred asking him to talk in his room would have set every alarm bell off in his head. As though he read Courage's thoughts, Fred left the bedroom door ajar before seating himself on the edge of the bed.
"If anything were to happen to Aunt Muriel, I might kill myself." He murmured, "My parents are dead. It doesn't matter if I kill myself. Once Aunt Muriel dies, I will have no reason to stay alive."
Courage's heart twisted in the darkest way. Hearing this didn't make him feel relieved or satisfied. Hearing Fred say that made him feel sick and he couldn't understand why he felt sick.
"If anything happens to Aunt Muriel, I will kill myself."
"Are you saying that to be overdramatic?" Courage snapped.
"I thought that's what you want."
Courage glared at him.
He didn't know what he wanted.
"Unless..."
Fred met his gaze.
"You wish to kill me."
Courage started, "What?"
"If you wanted to kill me, you could. I won't stop you. Aunt Muriel would never suspect you."
Fred handed him his pillow.
"I'll let you, Courage, if that's what you want."
Courage took the pillow and closed the door. He crawled onto the bed as the freaky barber laid back against his other pillows.
"I love you, Courage."
Hearing the barber say that made it easier for Courage to put the pillow over the freaky barber's face, wondering if his weight was enough to suffocate Fred.
"Courage?"
Courage's heart almost stopped as he heard Muriel's voice outside the bedroom door. What would she think of him if she saw what he was doing? What would she think of him if she knew he was trying to kill her nephew?
"Courage!"
He thought of Fred's green eyes, empty, never moving again, never responding to anything ever again.
Once someone died, you couldn't get them back.
"Courage!"
Panicked, he leaped off the pillow and Fred sat up at once and tore the pillow off his face, letting out a sharp gasp for air.
"Courage."
He pushed his still heavy eyelids open, his brain waking up at once as he found himself looking into Muriel's gentle, smiling face.
"Ah, Courage, you look snug as a bug in a rug." Muriel giggled, "I hate to disturb you but it's almost two o'clock and I think you slept in enough today."
She picked him up, holding him in the gentle way she always held him, placing him on the floor in the careful gentle way she always did. He slumped unable to sit upright. His heart felt too heavy.
"Courage? Could you grab that end?" She indicated the comforter.
Courage struggled to his feet and made his way to the bed, his drooped ears and tail dead weights.
This is what he wanted, he told himself as he grabbed hold of the comforter. Since Computer held her hostage, he had longed to see Muriel. He had longed to hear her voice and for her to be there.
"Would you like to help me make blueberry pancakes, Courage? I thought it would be a nice treat if we had blueberry pancakes for supper. Blueberry pancakes with whipped cream and maple syrup."
Please don't say his name, Courage begged, Please don't say his name. Just this once. I just want things to be nice for once. I just want things to go back to the way they were.
"Courage," Muriel said gently, "Do you remember when we visited Cordelia? It's been exactly one year since I lost my sister."
Wait for it...
"I think..." She paused, fluffing her pillow,"I think that's why Fred's been so grouchy lately."
Courage let his paws slip from the comforter.
"It's been a year since the poor dear has lost his mother. That's why I want to make him blueberry pancakes for supper. I know it won't take away his sadness, but maybe it will make things better, even if it's just for a moment..."
Courage strode past her and out the door.
"Oh, Courage! Where are you going? Courage!"
A day or two ago, hearing her call after him would have twisted his heart. But he didn't have it in him to feel guilty anymore.
He just needed coffee.
Milky, sugary coffee.
Something that would comfort him.
As he made his way downstairs, Courage spotted Eustace sitting in his chair, face buried in his newspaper and the news blaring loudly from the television.
"It appears the meteor has vanished into thin air." Said the familiar news reporter, "The same meteor that drove many to panic buying and building shelters in their homes seems to have vanished and scientists are stumped as to where this meteor has gone-"
"Big deal." Eustace muttered from behind his paper, "Stupid idiots thinking there was going to be a stupid end of the stupid world."
Courage poured milk into his coffee mug until it filled to the brim, tinging his sugared coffee a sickly pale white. His ears perked up as he heard Muriel coming down the stairs and he ducked out the back door, hoping Muriel wouldn't follow him.
Before, since the news reports about the meteor had started, the sight of the orange tinged sky had always filled him with an apocalyptic dread that weighed heavy in his spine. But now, sitting in the suffocating heat under the orange apocalyptic sky, it felt as though he were in a cocoon, a refuge from everything that had happened since the virus/Enid appeared.
He glanced at his coffee and spotted several coffee ground flecks floating on the milky surface.
If the coffee was poisoned...
If it killed him...
"Good." He said aloud.
With that, he took a sip of coffee.
And just like that the twinge in his stomach lessened. The urge to throw out his coffee was still there, but it was easier to push past it. He was beginning to notice a pattern with how the symptoms seemed to work. As long as he didn't try to preserve someone or something, it was easier to push past the symptoms.
Gazing out at the eerie, orange tinged afternoon, a part of him began to wonder if he had caused everything that had happened since Fred arrived.
After Cordelia died, Courage had prayed for Muriel to smile again. And shortly afterwards, Fred called. His prayers had been answered.
But it wasn't what he wanted.
Had Fred called Muriel because Courage prayed to the universe for her to smile again? Or would the freaky barber have called Muriel regardless if he had prayed to an unknown higher power or not?
His thoughts returned to the coffee grounds which he had purposefully gulped down.
The poison sure is taking it's sweet time to take effect, he thought almost sarcastically, taking another sip of his milky sugary coffee.
The fact that he could think sarcastically about this made his stomach flutter in the same way it had when the virus/Enid started to shrink. Again, as long as he didn't try to preserve himself, or anyone else, he was able to push past the symptoms. Since he woke up, the word he had typed into his documents didn't feel as unusable as it had before. The urge to erase it was still there, constantly caressing at his body and brain. But because the future didn't feel as infected as it had before, Courage felt his foothold solidify.
If he felt this way after sleeping in for almost two days, then how would he feel after a week of leaving the word in his document without changing it or erasing it? Would it feel less infected? Would the word and his documents feel less infected the more time that passed if he didn't do anything to change it or erase it?
He glanced down at his coffee, or what coffee was left, which was mostly coffee grounds, deciding he wanted another cup.
"Eustace?" Muriel said as Courage entered the kitchen, "Have you seen Fred dear at all today?"
"Now that the stupid end of the world ain't happening," Eustace began, "I want you to tell your freak nephew to get out of here."
"Eustace, I already told you, Fred is staying for as long as he wants."
"The freak's a no good free loader!"
"That's not true, Eustace! Fred helps me with chores around the house all the time."
"Big deal, your stupid dog already helps you with that!"
"And besides, Eustace, you never let him help you with anything! I always ask him to help you and you never let him!"
"I don't want that freak's stupid help!"
"Eustace," Muriel said gently, "Today is the day that my sister passed away."
"And?"
Muriel glowered at him, placing her hands on her hips.
"I know Fred has been acting grouchy lately," Her expression softened, "But we shouldn't be too hard on the poor dear. I'm sure he misses his mother."
"Big deal! I still want him out of this house!"
"Oh, Eustace." Muriel murmured, "I'm tired of having this same argument over and over again."
"And I'm tired of him being here!"
Muriel sighed, suddenly looking very pale and drained.
"I'm done talking about this. I'm going to make blueberry pancakes for supper. You like blueberry pancakes, don't you? Blueberry pancakes with whipped cream?"
Eustace grumbled under his breath that he would, in fact, like blueberry pancakes with whipped cream.
"Wonderful!" Muriel clasped her hands together, "Ah, Courage! There you are! Want to help me get started on Fred's pancakes?"
"Fred's pancakes?" Eustace snapped, "What about me?"
Courage's heartbeat uncomfortably as he stared into Muriel's smiling face.
Fred's pancakes.
He glared at her.
"Courage?" Muriel's smile faded, "What's wrong?"
Courage refused to look back at her as he strode into the living room and up the stairs.
"Courage! Are you alright? What's wrong? Courage!"
Courage glared at Fred's closed bedroom door and upon reaching the attic door, he wrenched it open. Instead of seeing the attic before him and Computer in his usual corner, it took his mind a moment to register the pitch darkness that he stepped into, his mind catching up just as he fell.
"Fred? I want to try something."
"Do you now?" Fred purred.
"I think it would be very sexy if you held my head down..."
Barbara leaned her head closer to that particular part of Fred's body.
He felt Barbara take hold of his belt buckle with her teeth.
His gaze fixed on the bedside table.
A red razor.
A bright red razor just within his straining fingers.
"Fred, my eyes are down here."
Barbara suddenly pressed her mouth against his.
The razor fell to the floor with a loud clatter and Fred let out a muffled groan.
Barbara giggled and broke the kiss.
"I can't wait to hear what kind of noises you'll make." She whispered.
"Actually, Barbara," Fred stammered, "I don't wish to do this."
Barbara's face fell.
"I don't want to hold your head down like this."
"Awww." Sticking out her bottom lip, Barbara batted her eyes at him and made a whimpering noise in her throat.
"Now, now." Fred placed a finger under Barbara's chin, "Fret not, my pet. I have a better idea."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Get on all fours and you'll find out. Sit right here so you're facing the door. I don't want you to hit your head against the headboard."
Barbara's petticoats rustled as she crawled onto the bed but instead of crawling onto the bed with her, Fred picked up the razor and placed it onto the bedside table. He then opened the bedside table drawer. At once, he spotted a pair of scissors and placed them on the table as quickly as he had picked up the razor.
The way they had been placed side by side to one another reminded him of how a surgeon would arrange his tools just before a surgery.
"If I hold you down like this..." Fred took gentle hold of Barbara's clothed shoulders, pressing his weight just as gently against her, "Are you able to wriggle out of my grasp?"
Barbara squirmed underneath him.
"Eh. I can still escape easily."
Fred pressed himself against her and in doing so he felt Barbara's clothed backside press against Fred's still clothed crotch
"How about now?" Fred asked, more interested in applying pressure to his grip on Barbara's shoulders than the fact that her backside was pressed against his lower body, "Can you escape now?"
"Yeah, that's better-ouch!"
Fred pulled away.
"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
"Yeah, that actually hurt a little."
Barbara giggled,
"I like it rough but not that rough."
"I'm so sorry, Barbara. Please forgive me." Fred murmured, wringing his hands.
"Hey."
Barbara placed her arms around Fred's neck and he found himself looking into her ocean blue eyes.
"You didn't hurt me, Fred."
Barbara pressed her mouth to his.
"Oh, Fred." Barbara sighed as she broke the kiss, "I changed my mind. I don't want you to pin me down anymore. I want you to make love to me."
"Oh."
He made to turn his head, stopping himself.
"I actually wanted to..."
He cleared his throat.
"...Try that."
Barbara's face fell.
"But..."
She touched the freaky barber's cheek.
"I want to look at you."
"The night is young, is it not? There's no reason we can't do both. Perhaps we could try out your idea first..."
Fred stroked Barbara's cheek.
"And then afterwards..."
Even with the streetlamps, the rain blinded Courage.
Water splashed onto him every time a car drove past. A guard rail separated the the footpath and the road. The tops of his thighs itched with cold. The freaky barber's pant legs soaked as he sloshed through puddles and his drenched duffle smelling coat weighed heavy on the back of Courage's neck and his shoulders.
Courage felt the cold metal bite at his paws as the freaky barber gripped the guard rail and leaped over it. The passing cars were so close Courage felt he could touch them if he reached out his paw, instincts telling him that his paw would come clean off if he had attempted that. He wondered if the freaky barber had a similar thought, hence the reason why he had thought it himself.
Courage saw the oncoming headlights of a semi truck. There had been a long stretch of empty space on the road between the car that just drove past and the oncoming semi truck. Then Courage felt himself step into the path of the truck.
Courage couldn't see anything but light. The road that he had been standing on had disapeared. He couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet. Every ache and discomfort in his body vanished. It felt as though he were floating. All he could see and feel was the light filling his vision and the darkness that bordered it.
"This is just a memory." Courage said aloud, trying to reassure himself, "This is just a memory. He's still alive-"
Still...
He covered his head with his paws, squeezing his eyes shut, scared for a split second that he was going to get hit anyway.
The light behind his eyelids vanished as the freaky barber suddenly threw him into the dark and he landed chest and stomach first against the guard railing. The truck showered Courage, drenching him with water and he could feel the heat coming off the tires. The metal edge dug into the freaky barber's armpits as Fred sat, draped over the guard railing, soaked from the waist down, panting and gasping. His pounding heart hurt...
Courage opened his eyes, waving a paw in front of his face. He glanced up, expecting to see the doorway to the attic somewhere above him. He could still feel the metal of the guard rail digging under his forelegs and he felt at his legs expecting them to be drenched. He stood still, straining his ears, unable to make out any movement in the pitch dark.
"Fred! Let me out of here! I don't want to be in your mind! Let me out of here!"
He strained his ears.
Anger boiled in his blood. He was past the point of feeling scared.
"Fred!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, "Where are you? Answer me!"
Then he thought-
Computer!
He had to be here!
"Computer! Can you hear me? Computer!"
With nothing else to do, he reached out his paws to feel his way through the dark. He started as he felt something rustle under his foot. He felt at the ground with his foot, reaching down and touching what felt like a piece of paper. Several pieces of paper. Feeling at the ground, he realized he couldn't feel the wooden floor even as he dug through the thick layer of papers. Unsure what to make of this, Courage stood up and proceeded to feel his way through the dark. Again, he felt more annoyed and pissed off than afraid. Just the fact that he felt annoyed that he had to feel his way through the dark of Fred's mind-
"Fred, I'm getting really sick and tired of this crap-"
His foot suddenly sunk into the paper. He yelped as he realized that he was sinking fast. The thought of suffocation flashed through his mind and he clamored to pull himself back onto solid ground, the papers that covered the floor sinking along with him, showering and pelting him over the head-
"So, what are your thoughts about this whole meteor business?"
Courage turned his head and suddenly found himself looking at Lindsey Crane.
And the same woman that Fred...
...Did things to.
Courage tried to put off thinking about what he had seen during the whole ordeal with the virus/Enid and the wolves. Even though what Albert had done to Cordelia had been burned into the back of his eyelids, he had hoped he could put off thinking about it forever.
As twisted and disgusting as the wolves had been, Courage realized that they never seemed to lie or make things up. Given how the freaky barber had reacted, they always seemed to use the truth to get under Fred's skin.
Which meant...
...Fred had done...
...What Albert had done to Cordelia...
...To her.
"The meteor is the least of my worries right now." The freaky barber rumbled.
"I would be surprised if it actually did hit us." Lindsey murmured, her words mostly muffled by the cigarette she held in her mouth, "It just reminds me of what my old man told me. He told me back when he was a kid, they thought world war three was going to happen."
She chucked her cigarette into a puddle and Courage felt the freaky barber wince.
"I already decided that if they ever decide to drop the bomb, I'm going to stand out in the open and let it get me. There's no way I'm spending my last moments on Earth huddled in some basement dying of radiation sickness."
Fred gave a closed lipped chuckle.
"My sentiments exactly."
Courage attempted to look around, unable to look away from the closed motel room door as the freaky barber rummaged through his coat pocket, touching very familiar items as he did so. He heard the trickle and spattering of water on what sounded like concrete behind him.
"Sheesh! It's been raining like a son of a bitch this month!"
"Indeed, it has." Fred muttered. He seemed more interested in getting the door unlocked, much to Courage's distress. He had a good idea of what they were going to do once they got inside.
"Fred, let me out!" He said aloud, panicking as they slipped into the dark interior of the motel room, "Can you hear me? I don't want to be here! Let me out-"
At that moment, Lindsey threw her arms around his neck and, to Courage's absolute horror, kissed him full on the mouth. To his complete and utter panic, he couldn't pull his mouth away from her's.
And even worse.
Fred kissed her back.
Oh no.
He felt everything.
As though the freaky barber's mouth were...
His own mouth.
Oh no.
He struggled as Fred carried him deeper into the dark room, his heart almost stopping as the freaky barber pressed himself against Lindsey-
-on something that suspiciously felt too much like-
-a bed.
He wanted to die.
He would rather die.
Death was better than this.
He leaped back-
-at the exact same time Fred did.
Courage wrenched his eyes open, gasping, once again feeling as though he had been submerged underwater for hours. He found himself sitting at the entrance of a hallway, soft light emanated from wherever the hallway led to.
He distinctly felt Fred jerk...
...away from her touch.
As though she had burned him.
He had the exact same reaction when Lindsey touched his thigh.
But it hadn't been the same leg that Enid stabbed.
At the time, Courage had thought the freaky barber flinched because Lindsey touched his stab wound.
But she had touched his other leg...
Courage suddenly recalled a few times he caught Fred rubbing at his neck or touching at the scar on his face as he stared into space. At times, he would rub at that particular spot on his thigh. Even though the scars had healed, no longer bleeding scabs that needed to be covered with a bandage, Courage had realized that it would be a long while before Fred felt normal again.
If he ever felt normal again.
He started as he heard all too familiar laughter coming from the depths of the hallway.
He wanted to get out of here.
But he didn't want to talk to Fred.
He couldn't.
Not after what just happened.
It was one thing if...
If.
The freaky barber kissed him on the mouth.
It was another to feel everything that Fred felt.
As though his mouth were his own.
As though Fred's body were his own body.
He couldn't decide which was worse.
Fred kissing him on the mouth or...
Of course Fred kissing him on the mouth was way worse.
He would rather experience things from Fred's point of view than for the freaky barber to try and kiss him.
But still.
Even so...
Fred's mouth moving and pressing against Lindsey's...
Even though Fred hadn't kissed him on the mouth...
It felt as though he had.
This is what Fred must have felt.
He stopped, his brain catching up with his thought.
Then his ears perked up as he heard a familiar accented voice coming from the depths of the hallway.
Computer!
He strained his ears unable to make out anything that his friend said, but from the sound of it, Computer sounded just as unfazed and bored as ever.
Courage sighed.
He had to make sure Computer was alright.
He had to.
From the sound of it, he doubted that Computer was in any real danger. Still, he didn't feel right cowering in the dark while Computer was left to his own devices.
Heart pounding, he got to his feet and crept into the hallway as quietly as he could, shrinking himself against the wall as the wolves burst into laughter. Keeping to the shadows as best as he could, he crawled to the end of the hallway and peeked into the room.
He started in pleasant surprise as he realized he was looking into the attic, with Computer on his desk in his familiar corner.
"Hey, Fred! Check this out!" One of the wolves called, holding up a piece of printer paper.
Aside from the wolf who had Crane's voice, Courage couldn't tell the other wolves apart. Other than each of them having a slightly different voice, none of the other wolves seemed to have any distinct characteristics that made them stand out from one another.
The wolf cleared his throat dramatically.
"She gives me head while I force her head further down onto my own head as she's sucking on my head-"
The wolf started cracking up, unable to read anymore, the other wolves cackling as though this were the funniest thing they had ever heard and Courage found himself wishing that he had stayed in the kitchen with Muriel and helped her make blueberry pancakes.
"Wow." Computer drawled, "I can feel the amount of creativity you put into that."
"Shut up! I'm not finished!" The wolf gave a loud, hacking cough, "Dear girl, I didn't realize you were so naughty!"
"What a masterpiece." Computer said, "You actually rhymed head with head. Three times."
"Shut up!" The wolf snapped again, "So, Fred, how'd you like them apples?"
"Tsk tsk tsk tsk."
Each tut made Courage feel...
Weird.
"Oh no, no, no, no. That simply won't do at all."
"What's wrong with that poem?"
"It hardly leaves anything to the imagination, wouldn't you agree? Personally, I find it more...titillating if I'm able to use my imagination to fill in the blanks. Observe. Computer? Would you mind terribly if I wrote a poem?"
"By all means, go ahead."
Courage glanced around the room, looking for the freaky barber, his eyes falling on the wolf that seated himself in front of Computer, pieces snapping together in his mind like magnets.
Unlike Crane and the other six indistinguishable wolves, who weaved in and out of tangibility, this wolf appeared to be made of solid matter. Thick ashen blonde fur, long limbs and, as Courage watched him type, he saw that, unlike the other wolves, he had regular normal wolf looking paws instead of the charred human hands and forearms that the other nightmare creatures had. To Courage's relief, he saw that this wolf lacked the saber teeth and shark fangs and red eyes that the other wolves had.
The wolf seemed to have difficulty typing, often typing one key at a time, making a soft noise in his throat as he seemed to press a bunch of keys all at once. The wolves leaning over his shoulder groaned in annoyance while others began to pace around and tap their feet, prompting the wolf seated in front of Computer to hold up a paw, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"Patience, patience." He said blithely.
In Fred's voice.
Courage stared at him, forgetting his fear, simply trying to take in the fact that the wolf was actually Fred.
Finally, Fred highlighted what he had written in blue and, after a few more clicks of the mouse, the printer began to hum. He held up the paper and, with a prim clearing of his throat, he began to read:
"She holds me and our eyes entwine, soft lips that once caressed mine and gentle pressure headier than any wine..."
The way he pronounced each word made Courage feel...
Weird.
"I hadn't realized you were so...Naaaaauuuuuuugggghhhhhtttyyyyyyyyyyyy."
"So, is this poem supposed to be about Lindsey?"
Fred's mouth curved in that familiar freaky barber closed lipped grin of his. A chuckle rumbled in his throat.
"Now, now."
"You call that sexy?"
"Because the poem is about..."
Fred paused.
"You can say it. You're among friends."
"Seeing as the poem is about..."
"Go on."
"Making love."
"Are you serious."
"I prefer to leave certain things to the reader's imaginations."
"It still isn't sexy, Fred."
"And what? Saying the word head four times in the same poem is? Saying the word head four times in a row isn't clever, it's embarrassing."
Fred paused and his wolf ears suddenly lifted up. Hearing Fred's voice coming out of the wolf's mouth felt surreal enough and it felt even more surreal to see Fred's wolf ears perk up as though he were an actual wolf himself.
"Very well." The freaky barber purred,"Perhaps this poem will be more to your liking."
With that, Fred turned to Computer.
"May I?"
"Knock yourself out, freak."
Courage realized that sooner or later he would have to get Fred's attention as the freaky barber might be the only way he could get out of this place. While talking to the freaky barber was the last thing he wanted to do, he didn't want to hang around and listen to this garbage all day. Also, because Fred seemed to be on friendly terms with the wolves, Courage wasn't sure what the freaky barber would do if he saw him.
The humming of the printer interrupted his thoughts and, once again, Fred primly cleared his throat.
"Violent are the waves of this ugly sea...uglier thrusts dissolving memory..."
He sucked in a breath.
"Courage," He had said, years and years ago "Your hair. It reminds me of the first time I knew just how..."
The way he had sucked in air at that moment...
As though he had been on the brink of a shudder.
"I felt about hair."
It had been a shudder.
"...And your mouth clings as anemone..."
Fred had always been a sexual person.
"...Naughty, naaaauuggghhttyyy girl..."
Courage hadn't imagined it.
"Lindsey."
That was exactly why what happened in the bathroom felt so weird.
It had always felt...
Sexual.
Even though Fred had never touched him there with his bare hands or fingers.
What the freaky barber had done to him had always felt...
Sexual.
And because of that, Fred's voice had always felt...
Sexual.
Intimate.
"I leave it to you gentlemen to decide where I'm..."
A chuckle rumbled in the freaky barber's throat.
"Making love."
"Well, you weren't making love to her butt, I know that."
The wolves cackled with laughter.
"Well then..."
Fred gave another purring chuckle that caused Courage's stomach to burn.
"That narrows it down to two possibilities, does it not?"
Courage shook his head in disgust, wishing he could cover his ears. However, the instinct to pay attention to what was going on kept him from doing so.
"Well, well, well..." Crane suddenly purred, velvet dripping from his nasal voice, "Look at you, Little Freddy! Look at our Little Freddy, boys! The man's an animal! A machine!"
"Oh, please." Courage could hear Computer rolling his nonexistent eyes, "You? A machine? Give me a break."
"So, what's with this fear of saying she gave you head? You ain't scared of her giving you head, but you can't say it out loud?"
"I'm not scared-"
"Then why do you keep tiptoing around the issue? What are you so scared of?"
"I'm not scared of saying it out loud, I just don't want to."
"What a square."
"Even when you're a freak, you're such a square."
"What are you trying to prove? Who are you trying to impress? Courage?"
Hearing his name almost caused Courage to have a heart attack.
"Because he ain't here, so there's no point trying to act like a prude-"
"So, who was better at giving head? Lindsey or Barbara?"
A thick silence followed this, so much so that Courage poked his head into the attic.
Fred stared at the ground, his wolf ears drooped and his shoulders deflated.
The wolf draped his arm around Fred's shoulders, "Hey, come on, don't get all down in the dumps on us!"
"Yeah! Snap out of it!"
"Listen, you can't just mope everytime someone mentions what's her name!"
"Barbara. Her name's Barbara."
"Whatever."
"Come on! You were just getting your old spark back!"
"Yeah! So what if she got married? Her loss!"
Courage's ears perked up.
Married? He almost said aloud, When did that happen?
A vicious snarl startled Courage.
He saw the wolf version of Fred and another wolf biting and clawing at one another. Despite the fact that the wolves seemed to decide when to become solid matter or mist, the wolf version of Fred seemed to have the upper hand, pinning the other wolf to the paper strewn floor. His lips pulled back, showing every tooth in his skull, each wolf tooth just as crooked as Fred's human teeth.
"Well," The wolf beneath him stammered, "That answers my question."
"From this moment on..." Fred snarled, his voice more foam than actual words, "You are never to bring her up or mention her name in my presence ever again. Is that understood?"
The other wolves stood still, ears lowered, glancing at one another as though they weren't sure what to make of this. Crane grinned to himself as though he found the whole situation amusing.
"Do you understand?" Fred rasped.
"I must say..."Computer drawled, "It just puzzles me how so many women insist on throwing themselves at a freak as ugly as you. It must be the deep voice. Or the accent. Or both-"
Courage gasped as Fred struck Computer, the resounding sound making him sick, his heart stopping as the monitor went blank. The screen flickered, cutting short Courage's scream of despair and Computer's familiar glow enamated from the screen as though nothing had happened.
"Ouch." Computer drawled as though Fred striking him had been more of an annoyance than something that hurt him, "Have you ever considered taking anger management classes?"
"I'm warning you..." Fred growled, "If you don't shut up..."
The fear that Computer had died faded and suddenly all Courage saw was red. He felt his legs moving, carrying him. With no thought for himself or his own safety, he leaped onto the wolf version of Fred and sunk his teeth into the back of the freaky barber's neck.
"Without my dark side, I feel sterile
There is a freedom in being feral
However, I'm in constant peril
Of pushing away those who aren't...Naughty."