Jimmy and Timmy
I don't know, I was bored, and I decided to write some random crap.
Yeah.
Yeah.
In the town of Smilesville, there lived two boys named Jimmy and Timmy.
Jimmy was a thin, tall boy. He had brown hair, freckles, and wore
glasses. Timmy was a fat boy. He had blonde hair, and could barely run
five feet. They were best friends who did everything together.
One day, while Jimmy and Timmy were playing ball in the park, Biff Lawrence, a teenager who was still in second grade, walked up to them.
"What are you little brats doing?" he asked.
"Just playing." Jimmy replied in the calmest voice he could manage.
"Oh yeah?" Biff replied.
"Whatcha playing? Stupid Ball? Heh. Stupid ball..."
Biff took out a notepad and wrote this brilliant insult down for later use. Jimmy rolled his eyes and continued throwing and catching the ball. Biff watched, his anger rising.
"Hey!" he yelled.
The two boys stopped playing.
"What?" Jimmy asked Biff.
Biff racked his brain to come up with an answer.
"Er..." he stuttered.
"Look!" Biff shouted and pushed Jimmy down, taking the ball in one swift movement.
He ran out of the park cackling like a madman. Timmy attempted to chase him, but the park was bigger than five feet. Timmy abandoned his effort and went back to help his friend up from the ground. When he had lifted Jimmy to his feet, they began walking home.
As he walked home, Biff was smug. He had shown those kids what-for. He remembered how he pushed Jimmy down. He broke into a fit of laughter. "Ah, Biff. You really are the coolest kid around." he said to himself. He pondered his awesomeness for a moment, and then headed inside his house. "Mom! I'm home" h shouted, so loud that people in ROme could hear it. "MOM. WHERE ARE MY AFTER SCHOL SNACKS? DO I HAVE TO BEAT YOU AGAIN?" he shouted again, louder. "MOM. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?" Biff was distraught. His mom didn't have a job, and she didn't have any friends. He didn't allow her to. Where could she be? He searched every nook and cranny in the house. Had he forgotten to lock the door? Did she make a break for it? "Bah, screw it." he said to no particular person, and he went to make himself a sandwich with special sauce made out of the tears of babies. When he opened the fridge, a note was taped to the inside. "What?" he said. He picked up the note and read it.
Dear Buttwipe (That's you, Biff.)
You took something important from us. So we took something from you. Your mom. If you ever want to see her again, you'll come to the address listed on the back of this paper. Come alone, or no one will hear your mom's screams.
The address listed was a warehouse downtown that Biff occasionally used to play poker. Biff read the note five times, which was quite hard for him to do, there were a few words he hadn't learned yet. He looked at the paper for the sixth time, suddenly realizing what had happened.
"Those little brats!" he said, again to himself.
"Oh. They're gonna get it." he said, indignantly.
The warehouse Jimmy and Timmy had chosen was rather isolated. It was located near the harbour, which no one in Smilesville ever used. It was perfect. They were hiding out in the back of the warehouse, where it was so dark only a cat could see them.
"Okay," Jimmy said.
"You remember the plan right Tim?"
Timmy nodded his head yes.
"Good. Now all we have to do is wait for that jerk Biff to show up, and the fun can begin." he said with a smile.
A few hours had passed before Biff finally arrived.
"Hello?" he yelled.
"Anyone here? This... this is the right address, right? Where's my mom?"
Jimmy gave Timmy the signal they had agreed upon. Tmmy pulled a string, and suddenly, a corpse fell from the ceiling and landed on Biff.
"WHAT THE HELL!? GET THIS THING OFF ME!" he yelled.
Biff stared at the body. And it hit him.
"... Mom?" the utter horror in his voice was palpable.
Jimmy grabbed a microphone that had been used for building-wide announcements before the warehouse had been shut down.
"You took too long." his voice echoed like an angry god's.
"Now. Where the hell is our ball?" he said, as if he dropped corpses onto people's heads on a regular basis.
Biff stared at his mother's dead body. What kind of monsters were these kids? It was a ball. Who the hell kills someone over a ball? Biff suddenly felt the confidence and anger he felt coming into the building become washed over with sadness and a feeling of cold dread. What were these imps going to do to him? Simply kill him, like his mom, or something entirely worse... Jimmy's voice echoed over the loudspeaker again.
"I said, and maybe you just didn't hear me, where. Is. Our. Fucking BALL!?"
Biff looked around nervously. What should he have done? He planned to simply beat the kids up and teach them a lesson. He wasn't expecting them to be utter psychopaths. Jimmy covered up his microphone and addressed his friend.
"It looks like our friend didn't bring the ball." Jimmy said, with a sigh.
"Lock the doors, would you, Tim?"
Timmy followed Jimmy's orders, he pushed a button and all the doors in the warehouse were sealed shut with a thick sheet of steel.
"Well. It seems you didn't read the note." Jimmy's voice once again echoed throughout the warehouse.
"A shame, really. We were going to offer to play with you if you were nice about it." he threw the microphone down on the floor and headed to where Biff was.
The kid had stopped speaking. What happened? Had they left? No... he wouldn't have sounded so threatening if they had left. But what was going on? Were they heading for him? Oh god. They were! They were going to kill him like they had his mom. Biff suddenly felt panicked. He ran to the front door and attempted to punch open the metal sheet. No dice. He tried the back door. Same result. He heard an icy voice over his shoulder.
"Now, now. No need to panic. We aren't going to hurt you. Just... play with you." Jimmy's voice had the tone of someone who was trying to get a baby to stop crying.
"But... my mom..." Biff said, with a sob.
"You weren't on time." Jimmy said cooly.
"You... you're a monster." Biff accused Jimmy.
"Maybe. But you took our ball." Jimmy pushed Biff onto a table. He signaled to Timmy upstairs. He pushed yet another button, and four iron restraints locked Biff to the table.
"Now that you can't sun around lke a chicken without its head, let's have a little fun." Jimmy placed a doctor's bag on the table next to Biff. He fished around in it and pulled out a hacksaw.
"Wha... what are you going to do with that?" Biff said, terrified as he stared at the reflection of himself in the shiny saw.
"Well, like I said. We'll have a little fun. Maybe rough each other up a bit, and then we'll let you go for a swim. All fun."
"That doesn't sound exactly fun..." Biff said.
"Oh. Well, I didn't ask your opinion, now did I?" Jimmy began making dotted lines across Biff's face, neck, arms and legs. Jimmy put the marker back in the doctor's bag.
"Now, holed still. This won't hurt a bit. I promise." Jimmy said.
Jimmy began sawing at Biff's arms, ripping at his flesh and bone, Biff was bleeding profusely. Jimmy said it wouldn't hurt. Jimmy lied. A pool of crimson blood began to form around Biff's arm as Jimmy slowly cut it off. It hurt so bad that he couldn't even scream in pain.
"Okay. Enough of that." Jimmy put the saw away.
"Now... what toy should we play with next, hm? Any suggestions, Biff?"
Biff stared at the demon in front of him. He was speechless.
"I see. The meat cleaver. Excellent choice." Jimmy pulled a large intimidating knife out of the bag. It looked sharp enough to cut a plane in half.
"Now. This toy may hurt a bit more than the last one. But only if you struggle." Jimmy laughed at his joke. Biff didn't get it. Jimmy eyed the knife. He tested it's weight in one hand. He lifted it above his head and thrust it into Biff's leg.
"GAH! FUCK!" Biff screamed in utter pain. It felt like his leg was burning in acid. Jimmy was oblivious.
"Now, now, Biff. Watch the language." Jmmy stabbed Biff again.
"OH DEAR GOD! WHY!?" Biff yelled. He felt tears going down his cheek.
"Because, Biff." Jimmy said authoratively.
"You. Took. Our. FUCKING BALL." Jimmy yelled as he stabbed Biff a third time.
"But how does... that... mean I deserve this?" Biff said through his tears. They had flowed down to his stomach.
"That ws our favoruite ball, Biff." Jimmy said as he searched through the doctor's bag for anothe "toy"
"And that means I deserve to be tortured? How does that... make sense...?"
"It was our favourite ball, Biff." Jimmy repeated himself.
"IT'S JUST A BALL!" Biff yelled.
Jimmy pulled a pistol from the bag. He aimed it at Biff's head and pulled the trigger, ending Biff's pain.
"Our favourite ball, Biff."
One day, while Jimmy and Timmy were playing ball in the park, Biff Lawrence, a teenager who was still in second grade, walked up to them.
"What are you little brats doing?" he asked.
"Just playing." Jimmy replied in the calmest voice he could manage.
"Oh yeah?" Biff replied.
"Whatcha playing? Stupid Ball? Heh. Stupid ball..."
Biff took out a notepad and wrote this brilliant insult down for later use. Jimmy rolled his eyes and continued throwing and catching the ball. Biff watched, his anger rising.
"Hey!" he yelled.
The two boys stopped playing.
"What?" Jimmy asked Biff.
Biff racked his brain to come up with an answer.
"Er..." he stuttered.
"Look!" Biff shouted and pushed Jimmy down, taking the ball in one swift movement.
He ran out of the park cackling like a madman. Timmy attempted to chase him, but the park was bigger than five feet. Timmy abandoned his effort and went back to help his friend up from the ground. When he had lifted Jimmy to his feet, they began walking home.
As he walked home, Biff was smug. He had shown those kids what-for. He remembered how he pushed Jimmy down. He broke into a fit of laughter. "Ah, Biff. You really are the coolest kid around." he said to himself. He pondered his awesomeness for a moment, and then headed inside his house. "Mom! I'm home" h shouted, so loud that people in ROme could hear it. "MOM. WHERE ARE MY AFTER SCHOL SNACKS? DO I HAVE TO BEAT YOU AGAIN?" he shouted again, louder. "MOM. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?" Biff was distraught. His mom didn't have a job, and she didn't have any friends. He didn't allow her to. Where could she be? He searched every nook and cranny in the house. Had he forgotten to lock the door? Did she make a break for it? "Bah, screw it." he said to no particular person, and he went to make himself a sandwich with special sauce made out of the tears of babies. When he opened the fridge, a note was taped to the inside. "What?" he said. He picked up the note and read it.
Dear Buttwipe (That's you, Biff.)
You took something important from us. So we took something from you. Your mom. If you ever want to see her again, you'll come to the address listed on the back of this paper. Come alone, or no one will hear your mom's screams.
The address listed was a warehouse downtown that Biff occasionally used to play poker. Biff read the note five times, which was quite hard for him to do, there were a few words he hadn't learned yet. He looked at the paper for the sixth time, suddenly realizing what had happened.
"Those little brats!" he said, again to himself.
"Oh. They're gonna get it." he said, indignantly.
The warehouse Jimmy and Timmy had chosen was rather isolated. It was located near the harbour, which no one in Smilesville ever used. It was perfect. They were hiding out in the back of the warehouse, where it was so dark only a cat could see them.
"Okay," Jimmy said.
"You remember the plan right Tim?"
Timmy nodded his head yes.
"Good. Now all we have to do is wait for that jerk Biff to show up, and the fun can begin." he said with a smile.
A few hours had passed before Biff finally arrived.
"Hello?" he yelled.
"Anyone here? This... this is the right address, right? Where's my mom?"
Jimmy gave Timmy the signal they had agreed upon. Tmmy pulled a string, and suddenly, a corpse fell from the ceiling and landed on Biff.
"WHAT THE HELL!? GET THIS THING OFF ME!" he yelled.
Biff stared at the body. And it hit him.
"... Mom?" the utter horror in his voice was palpable.
Jimmy grabbed a microphone that had been used for building-wide announcements before the warehouse had been shut down.
"You took too long." his voice echoed like an angry god's.
"Now. Where the hell is our ball?" he said, as if he dropped corpses onto people's heads on a regular basis.
Biff stared at his mother's dead body. What kind of monsters were these kids? It was a ball. Who the hell kills someone over a ball? Biff suddenly felt the confidence and anger he felt coming into the building become washed over with sadness and a feeling of cold dread. What were these imps going to do to him? Simply kill him, like his mom, or something entirely worse... Jimmy's voice echoed over the loudspeaker again.
"I said, and maybe you just didn't hear me, where. Is. Our. Fucking BALL!?"
Biff looked around nervously. What should he have done? He planned to simply beat the kids up and teach them a lesson. He wasn't expecting them to be utter psychopaths. Jimmy covered up his microphone and addressed his friend.
"It looks like our friend didn't bring the ball." Jimmy said, with a sigh.
"Lock the doors, would you, Tim?"
Timmy followed Jimmy's orders, he pushed a button and all the doors in the warehouse were sealed shut with a thick sheet of steel.
"Well. It seems you didn't read the note." Jimmy's voice once again echoed throughout the warehouse.
"A shame, really. We were going to offer to play with you if you were nice about it." he threw the microphone down on the floor and headed to where Biff was.
The kid had stopped speaking. What happened? Had they left? No... he wouldn't have sounded so threatening if they had left. But what was going on? Were they heading for him? Oh god. They were! They were going to kill him like they had his mom. Biff suddenly felt panicked. He ran to the front door and attempted to punch open the metal sheet. No dice. He tried the back door. Same result. He heard an icy voice over his shoulder.
"Now, now. No need to panic. We aren't going to hurt you. Just... play with you." Jimmy's voice had the tone of someone who was trying to get a baby to stop crying.
"But... my mom..." Biff said, with a sob.
"You weren't on time." Jimmy said cooly.
"You... you're a monster." Biff accused Jimmy.
"Maybe. But you took our ball." Jimmy pushed Biff onto a table. He signaled to Timmy upstairs. He pushed yet another button, and four iron restraints locked Biff to the table.
"Now that you can't sun around lke a chicken without its head, let's have a little fun." Jimmy placed a doctor's bag on the table next to Biff. He fished around in it and pulled out a hacksaw.
"Wha... what are you going to do with that?" Biff said, terrified as he stared at the reflection of himself in the shiny saw.
"Well, like I said. We'll have a little fun. Maybe rough each other up a bit, and then we'll let you go for a swim. All fun."
"That doesn't sound exactly fun..." Biff said.
"Oh. Well, I didn't ask your opinion, now did I?" Jimmy began making dotted lines across Biff's face, neck, arms and legs. Jimmy put the marker back in the doctor's bag.
"Now, holed still. This won't hurt a bit. I promise." Jimmy said.
Jimmy began sawing at Biff's arms, ripping at his flesh and bone, Biff was bleeding profusely. Jimmy said it wouldn't hurt. Jimmy lied. A pool of crimson blood began to form around Biff's arm as Jimmy slowly cut it off. It hurt so bad that he couldn't even scream in pain.
"Okay. Enough of that." Jimmy put the saw away.
"Now... what toy should we play with next, hm? Any suggestions, Biff?"
Biff stared at the demon in front of him. He was speechless.
"I see. The meat cleaver. Excellent choice." Jimmy pulled a large intimidating knife out of the bag. It looked sharp enough to cut a plane in half.
"Now. This toy may hurt a bit more than the last one. But only if you struggle." Jimmy laughed at his joke. Biff didn't get it. Jimmy eyed the knife. He tested it's weight in one hand. He lifted it above his head and thrust it into Biff's leg.
"GAH! FUCK!" Biff screamed in utter pain. It felt like his leg was burning in acid. Jimmy was oblivious.
"Now, now, Biff. Watch the language." Jmmy stabbed Biff again.
"OH DEAR GOD! WHY!?" Biff yelled. He felt tears going down his cheek.
"Because, Biff." Jimmy said authoratively.
"You. Took. Our. FUCKING BALL." Jimmy yelled as he stabbed Biff a third time.
"But how does... that... mean I deserve this?" Biff said through his tears. They had flowed down to his stomach.
"That ws our favoruite ball, Biff." Jimmy said as he searched through the doctor's bag for anothe "toy"
"And that means I deserve to be tortured? How does that... make sense...?"
"It was our favourite ball, Biff." Jimmy repeated himself.
"IT'S JUST A BALL!" Biff yelled.
Jimmy pulled a pistol from the bag. He aimed it at Biff's head and pulled the trigger, ending Biff's pain.
"Our favourite ball, Biff."
