Disclaimer: I don't own Johnny or anything. Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Meh heh. is has a weird name, I know. But there's a reason. For once, some thing Johnny oriented has a tiny possibility of coming out with a happy ending. Possibly. We'll see. This story takes place after the seventh JTHM comic. And if you didn't read it, him & Devi still aren't on very good terms. His hair also grew back, because I think it looks awesome in the seventh, but I keep forgetting it fell out in the first place, so yeah. And Devi looks like she does in the first book of her comic series, 'I Feel Sick' . You know, with her purple hair. Here we go..............................................................Johnny C. was walking along the dirty road, thinking. He'd been alone a lot since he'd almost killed his one-time girlfriend, Devi. He still felt sort of bad about that. It had been the doughboys, but he blamed himself for everything going so....bad. She was the only person who'd ever made him truly happy, and then the doughboys talked him into trying to kill her. They'd always done that.

Johnny hadn't killed anybody since Mmy had showed up and provoked him with his bad character traits (see JTHM #7). That was a long time. Almost six months. Oh yeah, He HAD almost killed Allie. She'd seemed so nice. She'd only been his second date in his life, and she'd been a huge disappointment compared to Devi. Actually a huge disappointment compared to anyone. She'd just been a jerk. A total, flat out jerk. She'd started out OK, but then he found out she was a cheerleader. That was OK, he could live with that. Cheerleaders normally would never go out with him, EVER. He could overlook that she was a species that he generally hated.

And then she'd started dissing people he actually cared about. Actually, he didn't care about anyone she dissed except for one person.


"So, what are you into?" Allie had asked, slurping a chow mien noodle into her mouth.

"um...." Johnny had said shyly. He couldn't really remember what he'd been into before the homicidal maniac thing had set in. Before the doughboys had driven him nuts. He remembered something in his past, on a smoggy horizon, something he'd put passion into. Something he'd loved deeply. "I like painting," he'd said uncertainly. The only reason he'd ever decided to take this girl he partially knew on a date when she asked him was because he wanted to be a semi normal young guy again like before he'd started killing. Only problem was, he'd been a teen when it had started. Not he was pretty much a legal adult ( I don't really know his actual age), at 19 years old. OK, it was still a teen year, but the last.

"Oh. Well, I like shopping," Allie said.

"Oh," Johnny had said.

"So, I've seen you at the mall. Where do you go there?" Allie asked.

Nny stiffened. The only places he went were places he could tell she'd never go. Not if she was under severe torture. But you had to be truthful on first dates, or else you might forget what lies you'd told earlier when you went on later dates, though Johnny was beginning to think this might be the last date. He always went to those places where they were exhibiting paintings that were either creepy or morbid. He wasn't sure why, but he was drawn to those sort of places. They gave off some weird sort of dark feeling that Johnny felt was part of him. Last week he'd gone in one, and there was this painting that caught his eye. It was this amazing picture of a dragon. It looked like it was in hell or something. Everything behind it was dark, and it was crying, or at least it looked like it was about to. It had this look of intense emotional pain on its face that Johnny knew only too well. And it was bleeding. He was unable to stop looking at that thing. It just mesmerized him. And then he noticed who it was by.


He knew she painted, but she told him she just did science fiction stuff. And he'd heard she was working, doing paintings for this science fiction thing called NERVE, though the whole thing didn't really make sense to him. And then he saw that painting that she'd done. It was amazing. And he really liked it, until he saw the title.

It was called "Aftermath of Nny."

Proof that the whole ordeal with the doughboys pressuring Johnny to kill her, and then her sort of kicking his a** had hurt Devi as much as it had hurt him.

He'd never really thought about that. But now that he did he realized it couldn't possibly have not hurt her.

"I like going to those.....morbid art exhibits. You know, the dark, evil ones. Uh, like death oriented," He said, voice getting smaller and smaller, seeing the bemused look on her face.

"Oh. That's nice," Allie said. She sounded as uncomfortable as Nny felt. They were both feeling like maybe this wasn't working out. They were much too different.

"So, what else do you...um..like?" Nny had asked.

"I like goofing on people," Allie said.

Oh, so she was the type. The perfect type who picked on people like Nny. Not him specifically, but people like him.

"Like who?" Nny had asked curiously.

"Well, that Tess girl. I don't get why Dillan would go out with her. She's so freaky," Allie said.

"Oh. Um.." Nny said, not able to think of much else.

"And that Devi chick."

Nny froze.

"Devi?" he asked.

"Yeah. She's such a weirdo. I used to be her kind- of friend. But then I guess I changed. Me and her were just too different. We both changed. She's such a loser," Allie said.

Nny went stiffer.

"Loser?" he asked.

"Yeah. She's just.....too different. You know. I make fun of her and her friend...Tenna, a lot. But Devi' s just loser even more than her friend. You know what it's like," Allie said.

Nny was getting really mad. Different? He was way more 'different' than Devi was. Allie just didn't know him.

Something was going to burst inside his head.

He was going to kill her without persuasion from Psycho Doughboy and Mr. F.

But he couldn't. That part of his life was over. No more killing.

But he found himself doing something very surprising. He didn't kill. He argued. For the first time in his life he resorted too something other than killing.

"She isn't a loser," Nny said, very quietly.


"Never mind."

"Look, Johnny, you're nice and all, but I don't think this is working out."

"Yeah. Me either."

"Well, I gotta go," Allie said. She waved and left.

Nny slumped into his seat. He'd been rejected again. But he didn't like that girl. He left the little restaurant and headed to the mall.

Subconsciously, he found himself heading toward the art gallery, and up to Devi's painting, way in the back where it didn't get seen much because she wasn't an artist who got paid. He stared at it for a long time.

"Do you miss me too?" he asked softly to the canvas. But he wasn't talking to the canvas.

He was talking to the artist, who would never talk to him again.

Where was Devi now, when he actually regretted ruining stuff between them? ***

More soon, OK?