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Here's Hoping for The Worst!	By : V021 Category: Comics > Squee! Views: 1787 -:- 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
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Welcome to the four-ring circus that is V’s first attempt at JTHM fanfiction. Be on the lookout for a narrative told out of sequence, yet more movie rip-offs, Squee-centric plot, and an obsession with a certain director. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.
Here’s Hoping For the Worst!
Prologue: Up A Creek Without A Paddle

“Is he dead?” asked the vampire again.
“How the fuck should I know?” Jimmy snapped over the blaring music as he scrounged around the motel room. There was a click and a sharp stink of cheap cigarettes.
The vampire said nothing. It walked up to the tub, daintily stepping around the broken glass and rumpled shower curtain.
Todd barely held back a cringe when its icy fingers grazed his neck. Each noise, each smell, each little scrape of sensation hurt like hell but at least he was still alive enough to feel. Not that it amounted to much since he was still sprawled out on his back in the scummy bathtub with another monster leaning over him. Todd had a funny feeling that he’d be better off just letting them both think he hadn’t regain consciousness. But no amount of survival instinct could stop the reflexive gagging when the vampire licked a gooey clot of blood off his mouth.
“Well, well,” purred the vampire with a cheerful slurp. “I’ve got good news and bad news…”
Jimmy thumped into the bathroom, sounding disgustingly hopeful. “Good news?”
“I just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to GEICO.” There was brittle crack when Jimmy backhanded the vampire. “Fuck!” it hissed, hopping to its feet. “I was just kidding, asshole!”
“Ha ha. Very funny bitch.”
“The good news is the boy’s alive…barely.”
“Lucky him.” laughed Jimmy.
“The bad news,” continued the vampire stiffly. “This boy’s a virgin.”
Dumb silence hung in the air. Todd could feel Jimmy staring at him.
“You’re not fucking serious.”
The vampire made a nasty little growl. “Um…actually, I am.”
“But the way this kid’s been acting, I thought Johnny was…”
“They weren’t.” It sounded smug. “One of the very few ‘commendable’ things about the Beast was that he had restraint in such matters.”
“He was too squeamish…” Jimmy leaned closer, chuckling.
“You can’t touch him.”
Jimmy moved closer. “The fuck I can.”
“I don’t think you understand me…” the vampire snarled, pulling Jimmy away. “This boy is a VIRGIN.” It emphasis the word with a sneer. “What that means is that not only is he…‘untouched’ by man or woman…or tentacle monster… He’s also an INNOCENT.”
“Right…”
The vampire sighed. “An Innocent is a mortal whose soul is still pure. In theory, if this boy were to die now, his soul would be clean and he’d go straight UP!” Noticing the dumb look it was getting, the vampire elaborated, “The boy’s got the spiritual equivalent of a ‘Get out of Jail FREE’ card, you dig?”
“Nope.” Jimmy barked. “Now fuck off.”
“Okay, maybe I was being too subtle.” The vampire slammed Jimmy against the wall. “You can’t fuck him because we need a sacrifice for the ritual. A VIRGIN sacrifice.”
“Aren’t you supposed to use girls for that shit?”
It began ranting angrily. “You men are all the same! Always victimizing the woman! Just because she doesn’t have the PENIS means that it’s OKAY to hand over the girl to be raped, mutilated, and otherwise violated by any old Demon or Elder God or Vampire Lord you happen upon! Even though gender is truly inconsequential so long as the sacrifice has an uncorrupted soul and their virtue intact! Do you have any idea how rare it is to find a mortal nowadays who’s both a true Innocent and a Virgin? In fact, given who this boy’s neighbors were, I’m fucking amazed that he’s remained so pure for this long!” The vampire paused, then added sweetly, “Oh, quit looking at me like that. There’re plenty of other mortals about for you to have…fun with in the meantime. Why not try the strip club up the road?”
“Hmm…strippers…” Jimmy thought a moment. “Sounds good to me!” He darted out of the bathroom, and then shouted back. “Hey! You wanna coming along?”
“No. I’ll stay here…just in case. But you have fun! Bye-bye now!” The vampire waited till the door slammed before adding, “You sick motherfucking…” It muttered a litany of Spanish curses before turning its attention to Todd. “You can quit playing dead, boy. He’s gone.”
Opening his less swollen eye, Todd glanced up at the vampire as it grinned from its perch on the leaky sink.
“You poor, poor little thing. Looks like you put up quite a fight…and for what? Only to die a most horrible and prolonged death at the hands of a worthless undead rapist piece of shit like Jimmy?” A faint little frown crossed its lips. “You know, despite the fact that I’m pride myself on being the most cold-bloodedly evil of the Master’s minions, I can’t help but feel sorry for you. So do you know what I’m going to do?” The vampire reached into its jacket and pulled out an obscenely large pistol, which it sat within Todd’s reach. “I’m giving you the chance to escape. True, suicide is a mortal sin and offing yourself does doom you to being a civil servant for the rest of eternity, but it sure as hell beats being tentacle raped and have your immortal soul consumed in a freakishly nasty pagan ritual only to be reawaken as the demonic thrall of some fucking hag-bitch punta vampire…” It stopped short. “But it’s really your choice, so I’ll just give you a minute alone to make up your mind…” The vampire jumped down from its perch and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind it.
“I thought she was never going to leave…” snapped Mr. F as he crawled out of Todd’s pocket. “Well, what are you waiting for dumbass? Take the gun and go blow Jimmy’s fucking head off!”
“An exercise in futility, my sorry excuse for sibling,” D-boy mumbled from within the toilet. “You should take the vampire lady’s advice. Suicide is relatively painless…well, maybe not if you choose to commit seppuku.”
“Fuck you! Are you going to listen to that bullshit? Who’s your buddy, man? Remember, I was the guy that told you to kick Jimmy’s ass.”
D-boy laughed, climbing onto the toilet seat. “Oh yes. I’m sure you remember how well that ended…” The little doughboy jumped over to the rim of the bathtub and sat on the gun. “There are easier ways to kill yourself, you know? Like this nice, large caliber gun we have here. Doesn’t it look so friendly right now? Such an easy way out… All you need to do is pick it up, put the barrel all cozy in you mouth like this…” D-boy demonstrated. “Then…”
Suddenly, Mr. F grabbed the ring dangling from D-boy’s head and slammed him against the tub. “Don’t listen to this tubby bastard! What you need to do is…”
“Where’s Shmee?” Todd asked groggily.
“Forget the stupid bear! You don’t need his Ragged Ann punk ass anymore! You’ve got me now, Todd. It’s just you and your good buddy Mr. F, two badass mutha’fuckas out to kick some major undead ass! Just like…Uh…like…” Mr. F paused, clawing his hat in deep thought. “Shit! Who’s that big chin guy from all those Evil Dead flicks…class=GramE>”
“Bruce Campbell?” a voice intoned from nowhere.
“Yeah! Oh fuck…”
Todd jerked upright. “Shmee? Where are you?”
“Right where you left me, safe and sound in your backpack.”
“But if you’re there, then how are you talking to me?” Todd rasped, voice tightening with paranoia. “You never did this before. At least, I don’t remember you doing stuff like this before…”
Seizing the moment, Mr. F screamed, “Because it isn’t Shmee at all! IT’S A TRICK! KILL IT! KILL IT NOW!”
“Be quiet.” At that, Mr. F’s mouth sealed shut, leaving the doughboy flailing and gesturing obscenely.
D-boy smiled. “Thank you, master.”
“Okay,” squeaked Todd. “You definitely couldn’t do that before.”
“It’s only me, Squee,” whispered Shmee with a chuckle. “Your oldest, most faithful friend Shmee. But the Doughboys have a point, Squee… You need to get out of this terrible place.”
“How? There’s a vampire sitting in the other room. It’ll kill me if I try to escape.”
Shmee laughed. “Then kill her first.”
Todd picked the gun up and stared at it skeptically. “You want me to shoot her?”
“No.” Shmee snarled. “You can’t kill a vampire with regular bullets. Traditionally, the weapon of choice is a wooden stake.”
“Well that’s fucking great!” Todd snapped in a deeper voice. “And just where am I gonna find one? Break the fucking toilet plunger in half?” Struck by inspiration, he realized that it could WORK! Stashing the gun in his waistband, Todd grabbed the foul smelling plunger and, with a quick snap across his knee, transformed it into a pointy implement of anti-vampire weaponry. Stake firmly in hand, Todd moved toward the door.
“Um… Squee? Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Right, the Doughboys…” Going back over to the tub, Todd swept up D-boy and the very pissed off Mr. F. He stuffed them both into his pocket then stalked out of the bathroom.
“What the hell?” the vampire gasped, pulling Shmee out of the backpack it was rifling through. “A teddy bear? What kind of fucked up kid keeps carrying around their damn baby toys?”
The vampire got an answer when Todd rammed the splintered plunger through its heart. He watched impassively as it writhed and howled, its accursed body shriveling into a mummified husk. Then he yanked his bear out of its clenched dead hand. “Let’s go home, Shmee.”
“Wait!” Crawling out from the pocket, the Doughboys looked pleadingly up at him. “Isn’t there something you ought to do first?”
“Yeah!” barked Mr. F, now free to speak again. “Like, ya’ know, slaughtering a certain zombie bastard?”
D-boy glared at his twin. “What is with you? All the time, it’s ‘kill that guy’ or ‘smash his fucking head in’ or ‘hey, let’s disembowel that dumbass over there’! Your damn hard-on for killing is what started all this shit in first place! If you hadn’t encouraged Nny to shoot up that Taco Hell in the first place—”
“Johnny?” Todd croaked. “How do you guys know Johnny?”
“Forget about it, Squee.” Mr. F chirped, then sneered at D-boy, “And you can’t have a hard-on when you don’t have a dick, shithead! Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you oughta listen to your good pal F and go get yourself some sweet, sweet revenge on Jimmy with a few bullets to his fucking head.”
“I think I’d rather just go back to my family…”
“But you can’t do that, Squee.” Shmee’s voice was soft yet dank with evil. “Jimmy killed both your parents…”
Todd laughed bitterly. “Real big loss there…”
“And he killed Johnny.”
That stopped Todd dead in his tracks. “He…He might’ve survived.”
“Don’t be stupid!” snarled Mr. F. “Even a blind man could’ve seen the gaping hole in his head!”
“Yes, yes…” D-boy hummed. “Johnny certainly was very, very much dead when you put him in that shallow grave. His body now lies rotting in ground, his cold flesh dissolving in the bellies of the worms as they eat the putrid decay that once was Johnny away into sweet nothing.”
Mr. F glared at the other Doughboy. “Are you trying to make me barf?”
“Shut up.” Todd growled, shaking all over.
“Squee…” gasped Shmee. “Calm down, Squee. You’re…you’re going to rip me apart...”
“Huh? Sorry.” Relaxing his grip on the bear, Todd sat down on the motel bed. He slumped forward in despair. “What am I going to do, Shmee? I hardly even know where we are let alone how to get out of here. Even if I find a way back home, I don’t think I could make it all the way to Jersey on my own. We haven’t got any money or food, either. Maybe if Johnny was here…”
“But he’s not.” Shmee’s voice was flat. “You became too dependent upon him, making yourself weak and vulnerable. Johnny abandoned you in your hour of need. So too has the lying spawn of Satan, Pepito. They were never your friends. True friends would never have let these things happen to you. I’m the only one you can put you faith in, Squee. I’m the only real friend you ever had…”
“Hey!” Mr. F barked. “What about us, asshole?”
“Must I silence you permanently?” growled Shmee. With Mr. F properly cowed, the bear continued. “Of course you have the Doughboys too, but it was I that gave them as a gift to you. Did Johnny ever really help you, Squee? Did he make sure you were taken care of?”
“He…he didn’t kill my dad.”
“Your father hated you, Squee. Would someone who cared for you let such a hateful man live on to make you miserable?” The bear laughed. “And did you know it was Johnny who brought Jimmy to your neighborhood. Johnny gave that terrible, terrible creature a reason to find his house. Johnny was the one who killed him! He made the monster! This is all Johnny’s fault!”
“And now Johnny’s dead…” Todd groaned, clutching Shmee close. “I want Johnny back!”
“He’s never coming back, Squee. You have to fight alone.”
Todd sobbed hysterically. “I can’t! I can’t fight the monsters!”
“But you can, Squee. You’ve already slain a vampire.” Shmee seemed to grin. “All you need are the proper tools…”
“Tools?” asked Todd, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He looked down and saw Jimmy’s suitcase lying open on the floor, the blades shining in the dim lamplight.
“Take them.”
Slowly, Todd stretched out his hand…
“Yes…”
…reaching for a large knife only draw back in horror at the face looking back at him from its pocked and grimy surface.
“They’re unclean…” he whispered darkly. “By even touching them, I’ll become a monster too.”
“Don’t be stupid, Squee! See? Nothing more than steel…” Shmee was almost pleading now. “A knife doesn’t make you into a monster! Knives are mere tools! A tool cannot decide how it is used. They’re only things!”
“What about you? And the Doughboys? You’re only things too, aren’t you?” Todd shook the bear violently. “AREN’T YOU?”
The silence was crushing.
“Shmee?”
No reply.
Todd picked up his backpack and shoved Shmee inside then stuffed now lifeless Doughboys back into his pocket. He glanced down at the spilled blades on the floor. Nudging them flat with his foot, Todd couldn’t stop looking at the horrific resemblance reflected by all those sharp-mirrored surfaces. There was the same dead eyes which stared hopelessly, the same blue-black hair—messy, exactly like it was when Todd was little—and, underneath the bruises and cuts, that same waxy pallor…
“This can’t happen…” he mumbled, lifting the knife for a closer look. Todd closed his eyes and began to laugh. “This can’t fucking happen.”
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Here's Hoping for The Worst!