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Here's Hoping for The Worst!	By : V021 Category: Comics > Squee! Views: 1789 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Squee!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 4: Jenny Was a Friend of Mine
"Soy un perdedo… I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?," ~~ ‘Loser’, Beck
In hindsight, Todd realized that bicycling while drunk and heavily medicated wasn’t the brightest idea he’d had lately. But Johnny’s little visit left Todd feeling too uncomfortably sober. There wasn’t a single living creature out that morning as he swerved the six blocks to 24/7. It was the most uneventful ride in Todd’s life, and the mini-mart was just as quiet. Even the girl working there was surprisingly friendly for somebody working at 3 am, but her constant talk about the murder and rape of a girl behind the mall a few years ago was making Todd nervous.
“You know,” whispered the clerk as she handed him the bag and kept glancing at the storeroom door. “If there’d been someone around to call the police, maybe she’d been saved. You know a timely call to the police may be all the difference between life and death in some situations. Yep. There’s a cop that patrols around this neighborhood and likes to park out by the CD Cesspool, so if somebody would call the police, he could be her in a matter of minutes…That is, if somebody called the police.”
“O-kay.” Todd paid her, taking note of the pleading look in her eyes. He left quietly and peddled toward the nearest payphone. Just four yards from it, a van pulled out suddenly from an alley. With a painful awareness that Fate in all it’s black and twisted humor had reasserted itself, Todd went crashing down onto the pavement. He sprawled there in a head ringing haze while beer slowly pooled around him. Dimly, he noticed the driver gotten out of the care and coming toward him.
“Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit…” Leaning down, he waved a hand in Todd’s face. “Hey! Hello?! Hey! You okay?”
Todd glared past the growing red haze. “Do I look like I’m okay?”
The driver laughed. “You scared the shit out of me! Lemme help you up.”
“Thanks,” grumbled Todd as he grabbed onto the guy’s hand. He was immediately overwhelmed with a vague disgust for this guy. Or maybe it was the sudden vision of the 24/7 girl being horrifically murdered… Either way, once on his feet, Todd reeled and fought back the urge to projectile vomit.
“What’s the matter?”
“I feel sick,” hissed Todd as he jerked back and leaned against the van.
“Oh fuck! Please don’t fucking tell me you have a concussion!”
“No…I’m just hung-over.” Todd growled as he pushed the guy away, shocked by the hateful tone of his voice. ‘This isn’t like me…’
The driver laughed again. “Guess that’s what the beers for… Shit! Sorry about that.”
“Forget about. I needed to sober up for class anyway,” bit out the voice that came from Todd’s mouth.
‘This not me…’
“Really?” Now the driver had that ‘buddy-buddy’ tone. “Which college you go to?”
There came a laugh that made Todd flesh crawl. “College? I’m still in fucking high-school.”
“Bullshit! What are you, a retard or something?”
“You must be, dickhead. I’m only fifteen,” growled the voice.
‘This is definitely not me!’ thought Todd as he numbly realized something was wrong. ‘I’m not like this! Aggression isn’t me— is it? And I sound like…No! No-no! Shut the hell up now and run!” Vainly, he managed to wrestle back enough control to try to get away, but the guy clapped an arm around his shoulder.
“Hey! Don’t get you’re panties in twist, kid.” he cooed in a sickeningly friendly way. “I didn’t mean anything bad by that. Just that you look mature for your age. Bet you get that a lot, huh kid?”
Jerking away from him again, Todd found himself glaring and snapping back, “My name isn’t ‘kid’. It’s Johnny.”
“Johnny?” A change came over the guy’s face and the smirk twisted into something hateful. “How funny! I used to know a Johnny…but things to work out to well between us. Artistic differences, you might say. Well, no point in digging up the past, is there? Some things should just stay buried, right Johnny?”
“Whatever.” Shrugging, Todd picked up his badly dented bike and turned his back on the guy. “I can’t say it’s been nice to met you, but have a good day anyway…uh, what’s your name?”
“Jimmy.”
Todd felt something unpleasant drop into his stomach. Suddenly back in control of himself, Todd laughed nervously as he began to quickly walk away. “Well, uh…see you again sometime, Jimmy! Bye now.” Hopping onto his bike, he pedaled at a break-neck speed heedless of the way the front wheel wobbled erratically as he tried to put as much distance between himself and Jimmy as humanly possible. Even when he’d gotten to his front yard, Todd found himself glancing uneasily over his shoulder, certain that Jimmy would follow. He didn’t know why, but this guy was even more terrifying than Johnny was…
Speaking of Johnny, what in God’s name had made Todd tell that freak Johnny was his name?! And what about the freaky ‘out-of-body’ moment? Something was definitely going wrong here…
“Welcome home, SON!” chirped Mister Eff sarcastically as Todd staggered into his room.
Todd collapsed onto the bed. “I’m not in the mood for you’re crap right now…”
“Aw, did some mean boys beat you up and steal you’re lunch money again?” Mister Eff cooed, clambering up beside him. Hands on hips, he took a patronizingly fatherly tone. “Now, son, you’ve gotta stand up for yourself against bullies. I didn’t raise you to be no little sissy boy, did I? Don’t you have a gun now, boy? And didn’t I show you how to use it? Get you’re sorry ass up Johnny-boy, and show those sorry sons of bitches you ain’t gonna take their shit.”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Grabbing the doughboy by his neck and squeezing until paint flaked under his nails, Todd began screaming at Mr. F. “WHY DID YOU CALL ME THAT? WHY, YOU OZONE DESTORYING LITTLE SHIT!!”
“Holy shit! I was only playing with you!” When Todd dropped him, Mister Eff glared. “God damn, bitch! What the fuck is your problem?”
Todd started to snarl something nasty at the doughboy, but shook his head and fell face down on his bed. “Fuck this. I am NOT going to waste my breath talking to a fucking pastry display.”
“Hmph! Well I never!” Mister Eff flounced off in a huff. As he went back to the closet to sulk, D-boy climbed up next to Todd.
“And to think,” quipped the more somber of the pair. “He calls me a queen.”
“Because you are a screaming QUEEN!” screamed Mister Eff, coming out of the closet.
“Eat me, closet case!”
“You fucking wish, you crab-ridden trannie whore!”
“Self-indulgent jackass!”
“Ass-rimming nihilist!”
“Catamite!”
Mister Eff’s face contorted in rage and confusion. “I don’t even know what that word means!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” D-boy sneered. “Let me put it in a way even an ignorant piece of trash like you could understand: YOU WORTHLESS COCKSUCKER!”
“THAT’S IT, BITCH!” Leaping up on the bed, Mister Eff kicked off a screaming, flailing fight with his other half.
“Fuck this shit…” Feeling sluggish and emotionally reamed out, Todd grabbed both of the doughboys then carelessly flung them into a dresser drawer. Once sure they had shut up, he staggered back to fall onto his bed and curled into a spiraling blackout… … “Are you okay?” A hand was gently shaking his shoulder.
Todd jerked away, and then relaxed slightly when he realized it was only Rufus. “Uh…what are you doing here?”
“Checking up on you, Squee” growled a voice behind him. Todd winced, reluctantly turning to face a rather upset Antichrist. “You’ve been gone for almost a week. A fucking week! Oh, by the way: Who the fuck is D-boy?”
Groggy and with one hell of a migraine, Todd stared at him. “What?”
“He and this other guy—I think he’s name was “Mr. Eff” or something— kept answering the phone when we tried to call you.” Rufus frowned at him in concern. She should more than a little uneasy when she asked, “Are they friends of yours?”
“Friends? More like parasites!” snapped Todd as he staggered out of bed. “They haven’t given me a minute’s peace since I found them!”
“Well, isn’t that nice…” hissed Pepito. “So you run off and leave me and Christ-crispy here to clean up the mess you left while you hide out with some freakish Goths bastards? And just what the fuck have you doing for the past couple of days? Smoking crack and fucking you’re new bloodsucking ‘friends’?”
“It wasn’t like that!” Todd barked back before launching into a rapid-fire explanation. “After what happened with Slater, I panicked and ran away, alright? When I calmed down, I went to Johnny’s to see if he could help me, but there were these rats—these horrible, FLESH-EATING DISEASED RATS—and then I put on the boots and I heard voices…and there were these talking Doughboys and a perverted Bub’s Burger Boy who kept make filthy comments about Johnny and me…then Johnny went crazy, babbling about how disgusting sex is….and I went to get some beers, but this fucking bastard called Jimmy or Timmy or something ‘Mmy’ almost runs me over and…”
While he was ranting, Todd noticed Rufus whispering something in Pepito’s ear and her gesturing at her forehead.
“You think I’m crazy don’t you?” he hissed, voice dropping into a frightfully familiar rasp.
“To be brutally honest, yes. I do think you’re crazy,” replied Pepito with an acidic cattishness, and then continued in a slightly more worried tone. “But that’s not currently germane to the discussion. Right now, I’m a little concerned about the large gash on your head…”
Rufus nodded, wincing as she leaned in to for a closer inspection of the slightly greenish scab. “Yeah, your head looks pretty bad…maybe we should take you to the hospital…”
“I’M NOT CRAZY! I’LL SHOW YOU I’M NOT CRAZY!!! AND MY HEAD’S JUST FINE!” screamed Todd. Reaching into the dresser, he dug out the Doughboys and shoved them angrily toward the other two. “See? They’re real! REAL, GOD DAMMIT! And they talk too! Come on, you rotten shits, say something! It’s rude not to introduce yourselves to our guests. After all, it is the polite thing to do…”
Calmly, Pepito put a hand on Todd’s arm. “Okay…I think we need to just chill, Squee.”
“Damn you fuckers!” Todd screamed, forgetting that his friends were standing there for a moment as he threw the Doughboys across the room. Both hit the window with a fragile thump. Shifting from postal rage to a slightly calmer state of pissed off, Todd glared at them. “They’re doing this to spite me…”
“Sure they are…” Pepito cooed, leading Todd to the bed while Rufus warmed up. “Just sit down and we can talk about your…eh, friends.”
“…I not crazy…” groaned Todd mournfully.
“Of course you aren’t…Now, Rufus!”
With a loud “KIAI!” of holiness, she reared back and smacked Todd’s head with her Kung-fu Style Healing Hands. She looked down at the rather stunned boy. “You better now?”
“Well, I don’t have a migraine anymore…”
Rufus turned to Pepito with a satisfied grin. “See? I told you it was just a concussion.”
“But the Doughboys…Jimmy…Ah, fuck.” Slumping, Todd threw up his hands in defeat. “Yes. Forgive the babbling! Just the lingering by-product of me hitting my head in a drunken spree of stupid panic, I suppose.”
The Antichrist nodded in agreement, but still gave didn’t look convinced. “Right. A concussion. And I’m…sorry. About the shit I said the other day.”
“What? Oh, that…” Feeling a sting of pride, Todd mumbled grudgingly down at his feet, “And I’m sorry too, I guess…”
Pulling both boys into a group hug and playfully groping the Antichrist’s ass, Rufus happily chirped, “And I forgive you both!”
Before Pepito could give the happy Second Coming an up-close and personal view of her own internal organs, Todd asked, “So, what happened to Slater anyway?”
“Oh, I rose him from the dead,” Rufus answered casually as she let them go. “I do that sometimes. Like this one time when I was really little, I was out playing in the woods and I found this mutilated corpse in a shallow grave and I was poking at him with a stick, then…”
“Absolutely fascinating,” sneered Pepito, not taking his eyes off Todd. “I sure your first miracle was a JOY and WONDER of divine providence, yadda-yadda… But there are some things me and Squee need to talk bout right now, so why don’t you shut the fuck up and leave.”
Rufus glared and huffed. “Uh, RUDE! Besides, as miraculous as it was, Edgar definitely wasn’t overjoyed to be alive again. In fact, he was pretty pissed off about the whole thing. ‘I was finally at peace with myself’, that’s how Edgar put it,” she muttered sadly, resuming her story. “Said he wanted to be dead, that he had been looking forward to death for years. He told me about how he’d been one of those CSI guys, how spending all his time with the worst humanity could do to itself was making him detached and depressed, and being in the closet too was only making things worse. But then he was kidnapped on the way to this ‘lover’s leap’ to commit suicide and murdered by some nutjob. Ironic, don’t you think?”
“Very.” Pepito droned absently.
“Well, I believe Pepito’s right. You two best be going now…” Smiling in a frighteningly disturbed fashion, Todd hustled the pair downstairs and out the front door. “I bid you both adieu! Bye-bye now!”
“Hey! What the fu—” Before Pepito could argue, Todd had slammed the door in his face and they could hear him hastily fastening the deadbolts he’d put in last year after the zombie chicken rampage.
Rufus stared thoughtfully at the door, and then turned to Pepito. “You know, I think Todd might be getting worse…”
“Golly-gee, Captain Obvious! I think you’re right,” barked the Antichrist. Turning his back on Rufus, Pepito tried to conceal the hurt he was feeling under a front of aloof displeasure as he walked away. “If Squee insists upon being left alone with his rapidly deteriorating mental condition, then so be it! I wash my hands of this trainwreck!” In a display of contempt, he whipped around and screamed at back Todd’s house. “DID YOU HEAR ME, SQUEE! I WASH MY HANDS OF YOU!”
Watching from the window, Todd frowned and went back upstairs.
“So,” rasped D-boy from his perch on the edge of Todd’s bed. “That went well…”
“Who the fuck gave you permission to answer the phone?” Todd snarled, voice dropping to a vicious bass.
The doughboy only shrugged. “Well, you weren’t in any condition to receive guests so we took upon ourselves to cover for you. Is that so wrong?”
“Yeah!” Mister Eff barked. “Here we are, busting our asses to keep you safe and this is the thanks we get? Tossed across the room like dirty socks?! You ungrateful shit! That freak boyfriend of yours nearly gutted me when I went to the store for some groceries.”
“Wait. You left the house, too? You can’t… you can’t do that!”
Groaning unhappily, D-boy hung his head and glared over at his insignificant other. “You blew it, bitch.”
“Oh, fuck you! It’s was your brilliant idea in the first place! And I’m not the bitch…” added Mister Eff in a whisper.
“Hold up.” Todd’s puzzled tone had taken on shades of quietly building rage. “Just how the hell were you able to do all that? You’re both fucking Styrofoam.”
Mister Eff laughed nastily. “Oh you silly, simple boy! Did you think we were stuck in just these pathetic forms? Now that we got you, we’ve got some serious POWER! Watch this!”
To Todd’s horror and amazement, Mister Eff’s body dissolved into a foul lump of black jelly which grew larger as Todd watched. Slowly, the blob began to congeal into a roughly humanoid shape, finally transforming into a more human-like Doughboy the size of a large child. Mister Eff grinned up at Todd with a mouthful of needlike teeth.
“See? Pretty cool, huh?”
There was silence, and then Todd shrieked and scrambled back against the wall in terror. “HOLY FUCK! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?!”
“Well, I’m just super!” chirped Mister Eff happily. “Thanks for asking!”
D-boy, now also changed to dwarf-like being, snickered nastily. Todd noticed D-boy’s new form and his mannerisms taken on a subtly more feminine aspect. “Aren’t we just a precious little fairy princess?”
“What did you say, asslicker?”
Before another fight could start, Shmee cut in. “Silence! Can’t you see you’re scaring the boy?”
“Sorry, master.” D-boy muttered, picking up Shmee and held him out to Todd.
“Suck up…” muttered Mister Eff as glared at the bear, but Shmee ignored him.
“Todd, please calm down.”
“Calm down?!” snapped the boy as he snatched Shmee out of D-boy’s hand. “I’ve got talking Pillsbury Doughboys who morph into demonic midgets and you’re telling me to calm down?!”
“Have you got a better suggestion?” hissed Shmee.
Feeling defeated again, Todd sighed. “No. But I wish…I wish they were more…manageable.”
“So be it.” With a shout of protest from Mister Eff, both the doughboys dissolved into black goo again and this time reformed into small key-chain charms. “Better now?”
“Shmee, how did you do that?”
“Never mind that now. What’s important is that you have control again.” The bear sounded strangely weary. “Now, what are we to do about these—ah, fits you’ve been having.”
“Fits? What fits?”
Todd could feel Shmee glaring at him. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I know you better than you think. Why must you insist upon acting that way?”
“What?” growled Todd, his fear fading into anger and confusion. “I thought that you were doing all that crap.”
“What makes you think I can do that, Squee?” Shmee rasped back coldly. “I have never taken over, though I have been sorely tempted…Why do you call yourself ‘Johnny’ now?”
“Why don’t you tell me?!” Todd snapped. “You’re always the one with all the fucking answers!”
“No need to be rude, Squee. I simply wish to see if you understood the implications of what is happening to you.”
Todd glared. “And just what is happening to me?”
There was a significant pause from the bear, and the doughboys sniggering. When Shmee spoke again, Todd could sense he was holding back. “You’re at a very delicate stage right now, Squee, and you must try to understand that there is still so much to learn first. If I were to give or expose you to too much at this point in your development, the damage may be irreversible. And I will not have you become like the others…”
“Others? You mean there’ve been more people like me?”
Shmee hesitated. “Yes, but you should concern yourself with them. They were all flawed, any way. Besides, I expect your results will be much better.”
“Results?” sneered Todd. “You’re making me sound like some kind of fucked up science project.”
“In a sense, you are” laughed the bear in a tired voice. “We have much to do…but we can wait a little longer. Now, stop worrying and get some rest.”
Todd waited for Shmee to say more, but the bear had lapsed into silence.
“Get some rest…” he grumbled, tossing Shmee aside as he began to pace the room. In one abrupt motion, he swept up D-boy and absently fondled the pleasantly surprised doughboy in his hand while he brooded over his life lately. He paused by the window and stared down at the house next door.
“Train wreck,” he hissed as he recalled Pepito screaming at him across the yard. “Who the fuck does he think he is, barging in here like that with Rufus…”
“Damn right,” agreed Mister Eff, pleased to see that Todd was now absentmindedly crushing D-boy in his fist. “What gives him to right to come into your home like he fucking owns the place? Presumptuous ass! This Pepito acts as though he owns you, like you’re his pet dog. He seems to think it is his due to have you come crawling back to him with tail between your legs, eager to please. You can’t tell me you like things that way, do you?”
“No,” admitted Todd bitterly as he tossed D-boy aside. “I’ve never liked Pepito’s attitude at all. He always been so arrogant, so domineering…then again, I guess I’d be that way too if I were the son of the Devil.”
“That’s no excuse!” Mister Eff snapped, shifting into midget-form while Todd was distracted. “You cannot keep letting him treat you like his bitch!” Hopping up onto the windowsill, he smiled at Todd with a shark-tooth grin, “Indeed, it seems high time for you to show him who the boss is now…”
Catching the hint, Todd turned away from the doughboy in quiet fury. “You bastard! Are you seriously suggesting that I rape Pepito? That’s fucking sick.”
“But you want to, don’t you?”
“That’s not the point!” roared Todd.
Mister Eff laughed, his voice slowly deepening in pitch as he whispered into Todd’s ear. “Don’t deny it. You hate him for the shit he’s put you through. You hate Pepito for the way he treats you, the way he makes you feel helpless and stupid. The way he’s always talking down to you, acting like he owns your ass. You want to make him pay for making you suffer this way. You want to make him suffer for a change…”
“Well, Pepito is a bastard most of the time…” Todd murmured darkly, not paying attention to the way Mister Eff’s arms were now twined around him.
“Precisely,” agreed the doughboy.
Shaking his head, Todd growled softly, “But it isn’t right!”
“Who says it isn’t?” asked Mister Eff in a dark and enticing purr. “Doesn’t he deserve to be taken down a peg or two?”
“Yes…” Todd agreed after a long pause.
“Then we mustn’t wait any longer.” Gently, the doughboy pressed the handle of a butcher knife into Todd’s waiting hand. “Seize the moment, savor and immortalize it. Hurry, boy. Hurry! Don’t let it slip away.”
With the faintest of smiles on his face, Todd walked down stairs in a dreamy haze of anger and lust. He had barely opened the front door when a pair of gloved hands grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Before he could full register what was happening, Todd found himself dragged into the gloomy of Johnny’s living room and shoved rather roughly onto a crate.
“Please forgive the abruptness, Squee, but I need some help” began Johnny as he started pacing around eerily unfocused. “Normally, I despise asking others to help me, given the tendency for such contacts to make one vulnerable to the predations of these filthy goblin people. But this has gotten too difficult for me to handle alone.”
“Well, I’m flattered but I really do need to be going. Things to do, people to kill…” muttered Todd as he got up. He noticed that Johnny seemed not to be listening anymore. Taking advantage of his neighbor’s distraction, Todd began to inching toward the door only to have Johnny catch hold of his wrist and drag him downstairs.
“Once again, I am sorry, but I’m afraid I need you. Badly.”
Todd stared at Johnny in surprise and more than a little interest. “You need me?”
Growling a little, Johnny yanked him forward and nearly perforated Todd’s throat with finger. “God dammit! I don’t mean in a sexual way! It’s just that there’s too much shit down here for me to sort through by myself.” He angrily pushed Todd toward a pile of boxes. “Now, you start over there and I’ll get started on that side.”
After watching Johnny root around in the seemingly endless heaps of junk for a few minutes, Todd hesitantly asked, “Um…what exactly are we looking for?”
“We already went through this!” snapped Johnny irritably as he inspected a crumpled phonebook. “Photos, old letters, and all the other accumulated detritus of the past! Anything that can shed light on my origins!”
“O-kay…” Not sure if he was going to make it out alive again, Todd resigned himself to digging through Johnny’s crap and occasionally leering over at the other man when he thought Johnny wasn’t looking.
In the span of a few hours, they had accumulated a decent sized pile of albums, scraps of paper, and various other snippets of personal life.
Johnny grinned down at the heap with some satisfaction. “Okay! Now, to the hard part!” He grabbed a handful of stuff and dumped it in Todd’s lap. “Help me go through these and find anything that seems like me, alright?”
“Uh…”
“Thanks, Squee!” Looking obscenely cheerful, Johnny began flipping through what may have been a high school yearbook. He looked up after a moment and gave Todd a puzzled frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Well,” Todd started quietly. “You still haven’t explained why we’re doing all this.”
Johnny let out an annoyed sigh. “Okay, I’ll go over it again: I’m looking for stuff from my past in order to figure out how I became such a hideous example of everything which is wrong with humanity. Once I find out the secret of my gruesome and no doubt shocking origins, I can know why I am filled with the need to kill! Or, at the very least, find out why I’ve got all this Egyptian themed stuff in my house…”
“And then what?”
“Pardon?”
“And then what are you going to do?” Todd grumbled, looking through a stack of photos. “Are you going to stop killing and try to become a normal person? Or will you just keep on butchering practically everyone you met in the most spectacularly ghastly fashion your fevered mind can come up with, secure in the knowledge that you’re completely justified in your rampages because of some horrible pantsing incident when you were in school?”
“Oh, sure…YAAAARGH! I HAVE BEEN PANTSED! I KILL LIKE THE DAMNED NOW!” came the sneer as Johnny hopped to his feet. He frowned down at Todd, hands on hips. “That’s just not done, Squee.”
Todd didn’t reply and instead looked at the pictures spread out in front of him. He did a double-take. “Uh…Johnny?”
“What?” grunted Johnny as he went back to looking through the yearbook.
“Do you have a sister?”
Arching an eyebrow, he leaned toward Todd to look at the photo a flamboyantly dressed young woman. Then again, the girl was so outrageously en femme that Todd wondered if this was even a ‘she’. He also had a nagging feeling he’d seen her somewhere before…
“No. Well, actually, I not sure…” Johnny answered after some thought. “Why do you ask?”
“Because either this girl in the picture is your twin or…” He left off, hoping Johnny would get the point.
“Or what?”
Todd cringed at the sharpness in Johnny’s voice. “Well, it might explain why you’ve got all those wigs and dresses. And the Jayne Country records…”
“Are you fucking serious?” hissed Johnny. “Do I look like a fucking drag queen?!”
“No,” Todd agreed. “But you—or somebody close to you—may have been transsexual.”
There was a scary moment of silence from the maniac, then he politely asked in a spooky Dracula voice, “And how did we reach this conclusion?”
“These.” Todd held out a couple of letters. “I found them with the photos of Jenny.”
“Who?”
“The girl in these photos,” he replied, gesturing to one of stacks beside him. “I’m guess that’s her name, since that’s how all the letters were signed. Also, they’re all addressed ‘Dear John’, so maybe she was your girlfriend.” Todd paused, then muttered and picked up an ornate little photo album, “Then again, in these, it looks like you were married…”
“WHAT?! GIVE ME THAT!” Wrenching away the album, Johnny looked through it in a mixture of revulsion and amazement. Suddenly, Johnny tossed aside the album and dragged Todd back upstairs without a word, then all but threw Todd out of the house.
Todd stood in the yard for a few moments, not sure if Johnny was going to come back out or not. Finally, he threw his hands up and went back to home, now more confused by Life, the Universe, and Everything than he had ever been before.
---
(A/N: Well, that was relatively random. Explanations for the reappearance of Jimmy and Johnny’s origins may be forthcoming. Then again, why should I annoy you with contrived and hideous convoluted origin stories anyway? You’re mostly waiting for the smut. *evil grinning* On another note, there’s really not going to be a single pairing in here since the emphasis will be on conflicts of identity... mainly Squee’s own breakdown as a person. *more evil grinning* Boy, this note has turned out to be rather pointless, hasn’t it?)
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Here's Hoping for The Worst!