Vicky and the Homicidal Doll
By Nintendo Maximus
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Fairly OddParents!", "The Simpsons", "Futurama", or the Mr. Wonderful doll. Or did you already know that?
Author's Note: Recording the "Fairly OddParents!" episode "You Doo!" put two questions in my head. Those questions were, "Why has Timmy still not given up on Trixie?", and "Why did he not have a voodoo doll of Vicky?" I didn't get an answer to either of those questions, but the second one did inspire me to do this quickie fanfic, based off of one of my favorite "Simpsons" Halloween segments, with a naughty pinch of "Futurama" to go. Besides, it's been over half a year since I posted a new fanfic, so here's something to tide you over till I publish a new fuller fanfic. As for that first question I just mentioned, it did entice me to do a Remy/Trixie fanfic, which should be in the works sometime within the next year.
Vicky Hitchcock wasn't having a good day. And while she was usually in a bad mood without reason all the time, she had good reason to be in a bad mood that day. It was once again her little sister's birthday, and what reason did Vicky have to be happy? She sickly despised her younger sibling. Before Tootie came along, she had gotten all the attention that her parents could give her. But when that little pigtailed shrieker came out of her mother's womb, Vicky's (somewhat) happy childhood was pretty much over. Now her parents doted on Tootie more than they had ever done on her. And that really upset her. It was for that reason that she caused so much misery for all the black- or brown-haired kids she babysat.
Sheesh! Vicky thought to herself. Why should I take part in a celebration of the day my life was ruined? If I have to...
"Goooood morning, Vicky!" The teenage redhead's thoughts were cut off by an interruption from her mother. "Since it's your sister's birthday, your father and I were wondering if you'd like to bake the birthday cake. After all, you're old enough to handle that task."
"Mom!" yelled Vicky. "I try to make an honest buck babysitting children; I sell lemonade for ten dollars; I even tried to make big money off of my old car; but you could never pay me to do a favor for that little squealer you call my sister!" And she pointed to a photo of Tootie which she had scribbled a moustache on.
Mrs. Hitchcock looked stern. "That attitude of yours is precisely why we're asking you to do this little shenanigan! It's bad enough you have to act this way in and out of the house, but we are not going to have you do nothing for your sister on her birthday! Now you go make that cake or your television privileges are forbidden for a month."
Vicky jumped back. She obviously didn't want to have to spend a month without television. It was her one chance to escape from the annoyances of the kids she made slave labor out of. So she said to her mom, "OK, mother, if you insist. I'm gonna make Tootie a birthday cake she'll never forget."
Soon, in the kitchen, Vicky got a can of rat poison out of the cupboard. She cackled fiendishly as she dumped a pile of the poison in front of a mouse-hole in the wall. "That oughta take care of those pesky rats," she said as she put on a chef's hat and got out a mixing bowl. "Now to make that cake."
Half an hour later, Vicky had finished up a four-tier strawberry cake, and was just putting the final touches on it. She hummed a tune that she was having trouble forgetting as she sprayed some light pink frosting on the cake to form the words, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOTIE, FROM VICKY".
"There," said Vicky as she placed a little plastic figure of herself on the top of the cake. "This'll teach those filthy morons who's lovable. Now to put the candles on."
Vicky turned her back towards the cake as she went to put up her oven mitts and chef's hat, and get out the candles. But the moment she came back with the candles to where she had put the cake, it was gone. In its place, a fatter-than-normal Doidle sat, patting his stomach.
Vicky shook with rage as Doidle burped out the miniscule figure of his master. "You dumb dog!" she yelled. "I put a half-hour's work in that cake, and you know how much I hate work! I never thought I'd say this to you, but I'LL KILL YOU!"
The somewhat-evil teen girl pulled a butcher knife out of the pantry and leapt at her dog, stabbing the table. Doidle, despite having just eaten a four-tier strawberry cake in one gulp, was quick enough to jump off the table before the knife could get him. Frustrated, Vicky pulled the knife out of the table and chased her somehow-quick canine around the house with it, screaming, "Come back, Doidle, so I can cut you up and flush you down to the sewers!"
She was suddenly cut off again, this time by her father, who grabbed the knife out of her grasp. "Vicky! What are you doing running around with that knife screaming like a psycho-maniac!"
"Yes," added her mother. "You know you're not allowed to chase the pets around like you're trying to kill them!"
"But-but..." Vicky stammered. "Doidle... the cake... he..."
"Never mind," said Mrs. Hitchcock. "I'll bake the cake. You go get Tootie a nice birthday present."
"Now I have to get her a present too!" Vicky put her hand to her forehead. "Mother, I've already told you, I want no part in my sister's birthday party! Why should I have to go waste money on something to give the little brat who's taken away any and all affection you guys may have had for me?"
"You listen here, little missy." Mr. Hitchcock pointed his index finger on his daughter's nose. "We're asking you to do something nice for a family member. It wouldn't kill you to do something nice for once."
"Uh, maybe not, but it might hurt," Vicky shuddered.
"Just go get your sister something she'll like!" Mrs. Hitchcock put her wallet in Vicky's possession.
"All right, all right, I'll do it!" Vicky walked out of his house, grumbling to herself, "Whoever invented birthday parties should've been drug out onto the street and shot."
Mrs. Hitchcock eyed her husband oddly. "Vic, I'm worried about the wolverine."
Vicky grumbled angrily to herself as she drove through Dimmsdale, looking for the toy store. Since she wasn't one for buying gifts for other people, she didn't visit the toy store often and couldn't remember exactly where it was.
She hadn't driven very far when she suddenly noticed a shack with a marquee on it. Hey, I never remember that place being there before, she thought to herself. So she parked in front of the shack, got out of her car, and looked at the marquee. "'House of Evil'. Hmmm, sounds like a good hangout for people like me," she said to herself. So she walked in.
Vicky looked around the interior of the shop. She had definitely been right in assuming this would be a good hangout. There were all sorts of weapons of destruction hanging on the walls, ranging from snake-shaped scepters to bladed gloves. But today, she wasn't here to buy killer weapons. She was here to buy her sister a birthday present. So she walked up to the counter and looked at the guy behind it. Vicky could tell that he looked rather pale. His skin was a light turquoise, his white hair told her that this guy must not have been to a barber recently, and he had positively Asian eyes to match his wardrobe. Obviously, he was the owner of the shop.
"Uh, hello," Vicky greeted. "I was wondering if you sell toys here."
"We sell forbidden objects from places men fear to tread," said the owner spookily. Then, in a lighter tone of voice, he added, "We also sell frozen yogurt, which I like to call 'Frogurt'!"
"That's nice and all," said Vicky, "but I'm not here for that. Not now, anyway. You see, I'm here to pick up a birthday present for my sister."
"Ah, then I have the perfect thing." The owner pulled from out of nowhere a doll in the image of a suave-looking man with brown hair. "This doll, labeled by the company as Mr. Wonderful, will charm the socks off of any female."
"That's good. Now before you wrap it up, could you modify its appearance a bit to resemble this nut?" Also from out of nowhere, Vicky showed off a photo of Timmy, which she had also drawn a moustache on. "You see, my sister has an insane crush on this boy, and although I don't like him very much, well, just between the two of us, I secretly want them to get together."
"I can do that." The owner suddenly switched back to his spooky tone. "But I warn you - this doll carries a terrible curse!"
Vicky shivered, worried. "Ooooh, that's bad."
"But it comes with a free Frogurt!" said the owner, in his lighter tone again.
"That's good," said a relieved Vicky.
"The Frogurt is also cursed," said the owner spookily.
"That's bad," said Vicky, worried again.
"But you get your choice of topping!" said the owner lightheartedly.
"That's good," said Vicky, relieved.
"The toppings contains Potassium Benzoate," said the owner spookily.
Vicky just stared back at the owner, not seeming to comprehend what he just said.
"That's bad," the owner reprimanded.
Back at the Hitchcock residence, Tootie's birthday party was going underway, probably because Vicky was away at the time. The kids were using the front door to play "Pin the Tail on the Donkey" when she suddenly burst in, crushing whoever was currently up into the wall.
"Heeeeeeere's Vicky!" she announced, frightening all the other kids into hiding behind whatever they could hide behind. "Hey, hey, hey," she called for them to come out. "Just because it's my sister's birthday, my parents have commanded me to try and be... nice... today. But I'll be going to take a nap after I take my part here, and I want no disturbances."
The kids climbed out from behind their hiding places and breathed sighs of relief.
"Anyway..." Vicky walked up to Tootie and handed her the doll, wrapped in foil packaging. "Well, here you go, Tootie. I call this gift, uh, 'Timmy-Wonderful'."
Tootie immediately tore off the packaging, opened the box within, and gasped in glee at the doll she was holding, modified to resemble the object of her affections. She gave it a big hug, pressing its stomach while she was at it. Its recorded voice, now heightened to sound somewhat like Timmy, said, "Let's just cuddle tonight."
"Oh, goodie!" Tootie jumped half her height in the air. "I love this doll! It's just like my one true love!"
"Oh brother..." Timmy was keeping his distance from the girl he really, truly loved - er, Vicky's sister.
"I never thought I'd say this, but... thanks, Vicky!" Tootie thanked her sister.
"Yeah, sure," uttered Vicky. "I have to know this stuff if I'm going to be a maid of horror someday. Or, something like that. Well, I'm gonna go take a nap now."
Just as Vicky was turning in, a rather old voice rang out around the room. "That doll is evil, I tells ya. Evil! Eeeeeeviillll!"
Everyone turned to the source of the voice. "What are you doing in this fanfic, Mermaidman?" asked Timmy.
"I just want attention," Mermaidman whined.
So for the next week or so, things progressed normally with Dimmsdale's resident red-haired terror. She swore, she fumed, she tormented children. But one evening, she was sitting on the couch, watching the news on TV.
"...and in environmental news," she heard Chet Ubetcha saying, "scientists have announced that Dimmsdale's air is now only dangerous to children and the elderly. Or something like that."
"Ha ha! Good riddance to them all!" Vicky's giggles at the expense of others was suddenly cut off when she noticed that the so-called "Timmy-Wonderful" was now sitting right next to her on the couch. Feeling rather giddy, she pressed the doll's stomach, just as Tootie had done.
"I'm Mr. Wonderful and I don't like you," the doll responded.
Vicky just chuckled heartedly.
"I'm Mr. Wonderful and I'm going to kill you!" the doll said suddenly.
Vicky chuckled again. "Didn't even press the stomach that time."
"I said I'm going to kill you!" The doll pointed its finger at Vicky. "You, Vicky Hitchcock!"
"Oh yeah?" Vicky scoffed as she threw the doll over the side of the couch. "With what?"
Suddenly, the doll reappeared, brandishing a large chef's knife. Vicky screamed in horror as the doll flew through the air on the attack. Upon hearing a scratchy female teenage yell, the rest of the Hitchcock family ran into the room and looked at Vicky as she cowered at the opposite end of the couch from the doll, now just sitting there not holding anything.
"Vicky, what's wrong?" Mrs. Hitchcock asked.
Vicky, shuddering in terror, pointed at the now harmless Timmy-Wonderful. "That doll just tried to kill me!"
Tootie looked at the doll. "What, Timmy-Wonderful? Vicky, how did you get my doll on the couch without me noticing?"
"Your sister's right, Vicky!" Mr. Hitchcock pointed out. "You shouldn't be taking her stuff without her permission."
"But I'm the older one here!" Vicky reminded. "Besides, it just got here by itself. And then it tried to kill me!"
"I'd say the pressure has finally gotten to you, Vicky, but what pressure?" Tootie took Timmy-Wonderful in her arms and gave it another squeeze to the stomach. It laughed sinisterly at Vicky and pointed its finger threateningly, but what Tootie heard was, "Aww, you're so cute when you're mad."
Vicky looked around as her family left the room. She was a bit glad that her parents were finally paying some attention to her, but now they thought she was crazy. Just because she just witnessed her little sister's doll come to life and threaten to kill her? Maybe she was crazy. Or maybe that store owner was right when he told her the doll was cursed. Either way, she decided to unwind in the shower.
So Vicky went and took a shower. And as she was showering, she decided to take her mind off of her troubles with a song. So, trying to be as on key as she could be, she sang to herself:
"My baloney has a first name, it's V-I-C-K-Y;
My baloney has a second name, it's V-I-C-KY."
Suddenly, the curtains tore open to reveal the Timmy-Wonderful doll standing on the base of the bathtub, wielding a miniature harpoon. Vicky screamed repeatedly as the doll swished its weapon around. Finally, she jumped out of the bathtub, grabbed a nearby towel, and ran through the house wearing said towel, passing by her parents in the kitchen.
Mr. Hitchcock dropped his coffee cup, turned to his wife, and said, "Nicky, I'm starting to see why you're worried about the wolverine."
Vicky continued to cower in fear from Timmy-Wonderful, but waited for a chance she'd have to try and get rid of it. Maybe Tootie wouldn't notice if it was gone, especially not with all the other things she had in Timmy's likeness.
Eventually, there came a time for Timmy-Wonderful to be too busy doing something else to pay any attention to the babysitter it was trying to kill. When Vicky saw the doll walk into Tootie's room without noticing her, she ran off, rubbing her hands together in glee.
"Hey baby!" Timmy-Wonderful addressed Tootie's swimsuit model doll that happened to look just like her. "Get comfortable. Relaaax. It's a little hot for that bikini, don't you think?"
Just then, Vicky came back into the room, carrying a bag, a rope, chains, and a suitcase. She grabbed the Timmy-Wonderful doll, tied it up with the rope, dropped it in a bag of dirty socks, and then secured it in the suitcase.
"You think your dirty socks can stop me?" the doll taunted from inside the suitcase. "Well... uh, they are making me dizzy. Ooooohhh..."
Soon, after a long drive through Dimmsdale, Vicky arrived at a bottomless pit that someone had been considerate to dig up. She took the now-locked suitcase, which she was certain the Timmy-Wonderful doll was still trapped in, out of the car, brought it up to the pit, and dropped it down there.
"Goodbyeeeee Dolly!" Vicky clapped her hands as she headed back to her car.
Shortly after Vicky left, Tad & Chad walked up to the edge of the pit, each of them carrying a large box.
"Boy," said Tad as he tossed his box down the pit, "we sure were fools to think that anyone would want these sexy photos of Trixie."
"You said it, Tad," said Chad as he threw his box down the pit. "And maybe Trixie won't be so upset with us when we tell her we ditched these."
Just then, the boxes suddenly came flying up from the pit, as if being rejected.
"What the?" said Tad & Chad, in unison.
"And that's the end of that chapter," Vicky said to herself as she parked her car in the garage. But she was completely unaware of a certain small passenger strapped under the car.
Just as Vicky walked in through the door, she felt two tiny hands suddenly grabbing her and covering her eyes.
"Guess who, Icky-with-a-V!" the Timmy-Wonderful doll taunted from behind her.
"Aaaaahh!" Vicky screamed. Blinded by the doll's hands, she ran around the hallway, bumping around. Fortunately for her, she happened to pass by her parents. "Mom! Dad! Help!" she cried.
Mrs. Hitchcock jumped back when she and her husband saw the sight in front of them. "Oh my!"
"The doll's trying to kill me and the toaster's been laughing at me!" Vicky staggered into the kitchen.
"Don't worry, Vicky," Mr. Hitchcock called, "we'll get you out of this! Even if we end up being better off without you."
Vicky and Timmy-Wonderful rolled about on the kitchen floor, during which the killer doll dunked the villainous teenager's face in Doidle's water dish. "Eeeew! Dog water!" spat Vicky when she got her face out of it. "How does Doidle stand drinking that?"
Mrs. Hitchcock looked at the box that Timmy-Wonderful had come in. "Here's the company phone number. Book 'em, Vic!" Mr. Hitchcock dialed the number on the phone, and Mrs. Hitchcock took the receiver and said to the person on the other line, "Hello. Your doll is trying to kill my daughter!" After a brief pause, she said, "Yes, I'll hold."
Mr. Hitchcock grimaced as he watched Vicky lie there on the floor, with the doll yanking at her tongue.
About two hours later, Mr. and Mrs. Hitchcock let the company repairman in. Vicky was by now sitting in panic on top of the TV, hoping that Timmy-Wonderful didn't know how to climb flat surfaces.
"Get it away from me!" she cried.
"All right, let's have a look-see." The repairman picked up the doll and looked at it carefully. Then he pulled it shirt up to look at the back. He turned to Vicky's parents and said, "Well, here's your problem. Somebody set this thing to 'Evil'." He pointed to a switch on the doll's back, with positions that read "Evil", where it was currently set, and "Good", which he then flicked the switch towards. "It should be as friendly as a bunny now," he said, placing Timmy-Wonderful on Vicky's lap.
The doll put out its arms. "I love you, Victoria," it said, speaking platonically, that is.
"Y'know, I'd actually be upset if I heard that from the twerp your appearance is based off of, doll, but after what I've been through... come here, you." Vicky hugged the doll.
"Well, I guess we should've listened to you when you first told us it was going to kill you," said Mr. Hitchcock to his daughter.
"Yes," added Mrs. Hitchcock. "You do seem to be right about us not giving you any affection."
"You got that right. Now if you'll excuse me..." Vicky got off of the TV and walked out the door, with Timmy-Wonderful relaxing on her shoulder. "So long, jerkwads!"
In less than three days, Timmy-Wonderful quickly became a slave to Vicky's every desire. On this particular evening, Vicky blankly watched TV as Timmy-Wonderful placed a tray of food on the coffee table in front of here.
"Here you go, buddy," Timmy-Wonderful grunted.
"Did you walk the dog?" Vicky questioned.
"Yeah," replied Timmy-Wonderful angrily. "And he buried me a couple of times!"
"Yeah, well, dogs like to bury old junk!" Vicky chortled.
"Yeah, yeah, you stupid witch..." the doll grumbled, in a sotto voice.
At the end of the day, Timmy-Wonderful retired to Tootie's replica of Timmy's treehouse.
"Oooh, what a day. Vicky made me give her a sponge bath." Timmy-Wonderful shuddered at the thought, before sitting down right by the bikini-wearing doll that looked like Tootie. "But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile." And 'he' kissed 'his' female counterpart, accidentally causing 'her' head to fall off. "Oops, sorry about that," 'he' said as he immediately returned it to 'her' shoulders and put 'his' arm around 'her'.
Yeah, that's pretty much it. There's not much to commentate. But I did think this was at least pretty funny, especially with the kitchen business. Stay tuned for my later fanfics.