"BUGGER!"

As his final, precious, ancient radio tube burst into purple flames, Dr. Cockroach, Ph.D and proclaimed 1/5 savior of the world, violently kicked his latest Susan-shrinking machine. His test subject, the ever patient and understanding Susan Murphy, otherwise known in the hero circles as Ginormica, sighed, smiled, and removed the various probes (namely a toilet bowl brush and a turkey baster) from her left ear and nostril.

"It's all right, Doctor. We can try again tomorrow." She lifted her forty-nine foot frame surprisingly gracefully from her appropriately sized chair and slowly walked to her steel room, a slight twinge evident in her right ankle from the most current test. The titanium blast door descended over the entrance way and she disappeared from view.

Dr. Cockroach watched her go, his antennae drooping sorrowfully. More so than anyone else in this facility, Susan was his other half, his partner-in-crime. Link had Butterflyasaurus, Bob had Jello. The Doctor had Susan. It was a logical partnership- they had both been human at one point (Susan still, unless you counted the tiny problem of her abnormal heighth) both with lives they had left behind, people they had loved… he sighed, returning to his gently smoldering machine.

"What's up, Doc?" asked a chuckling Link as he swung past ape-like on his knuckles. Dr. Cockroach fixed him with a scathing stare.

"I should have never discovered those old 'Looney Tune' DVDs in the dumpster." He said, digging through his dilapidated cooler-turned-toolbox to find a socket wrench. Link stopped, stunned.

"What's got your lab-coat in a twist?" he asked. The Doctor turned to look at him, then closed his eyes, allowing the wrench to fall from his grasp with a clatter. "Aw, come on, doc, it's not the first time you've blown something up. It won't be the last time."

"It's not that, Link!" Dr. Cockroach said sharply, jerking his head in the fish-man's direction, golden eyes narrowed in anger and anteannae twitching. "I- I hurt her. She's so good and patient, letting me test on her. All I want to do is to help her, to return her to her normal size. But I haven't managed to do that. All I've done is give her pain, physically and emotionally." He glanced again at the steel panel covering Susan's quarters. He sighed once more, before turning and heading for his own room. "Tell Monger he can take out the trash." He said flatly, gesturing mildly at the pile of garbage that had for a moment been a working machine. As he slowly walked away, he unbuttoned his white coat, letting it fall from his fingers as the door clanged shut.

…..

That night, Dr. Cockroach lay curled sideways on his bunk, staring blankly across the room. Of all the failures he had encountered in his life, this had to be the worst. Failing her…. Finally giving up on sleep, he swung his legs over the side of the shelf that served as his bed and cradled his insect head in his human hands.

Dealing with emotions was a hard thing to do when surrounded by less advanced creatures. Yes, Bob carried around a plate of lime Jello (Which now included Susan's discarded engagement ring, a gift from Bob, it's fiancé), and Link told of his glory days chasing girls on Coco Beach. But neither of them had ever really dealt with true emotions. As the years passed, Dr. Cockroach eventually developed a sort of wall between his intellect and all other functions his brain performed for him. He began to forget the people he had known before the incident. His whole life, his whole world, was contained inside the few steel and plexiglass walls of the base.

Then she came. Susan. With her sparkling eyes and a wit to match, undefeatable strength and a heart of gold. Dr. Cockroach's emotional barriers crumbled instantly. He wept inside as she told her story, of loss and heartbreak, and vowed to himself to protect her and keep her safe.

But what had he done? He had failed her. He had treated her as a glorified guinea pig and caused her pain. After all the years of isolation and emotional vacuum, Dr. Cockroach could not take it anymore. For once, he was going to be entirely selfish. He had to forget her to continue the work the world needed.

As his decision was made, Dr. Cockroach sprang to life. He retrieved his coat from the corner he had kicked it into earlier, then began digging through his toybox to find the supplies he would need. Emotions were simply hormonal impulses, in short, chemicals flowing through the body. If he could isolate them, he could extract them. His golden eyes shining with the thrill of discovery, he held back a bubble of maniacal laughter that attempted to burst forth. Instead, his shoulders shook in silent glee as his plan took shape.

……

The next day dawned with the absence of Susan. The remaining monsters gathered around their table for breakfast, missing the prescence of their largest member. Bob squeezed himself under her door, coming back with a message that consisted of a headache and a desire for sleep. Dr. Cockroach bowed his head, feeling a burden pressing harder against him. His plan had to work. He could not continue to go on this way.

That night, he put his theory into effect. He dubbed it the Dreamcatcher, after the Native American objects of similar name. If all went according to plan, the Dreamcatcher should be able to extract all hormonal chemicals from the body and store them for later use, if necessary.

Dr. Cockroach took one last look around his chamber. Over the years they had been 'imprisoned' there, he had amassed a collection of sorts. He had plastered the walls with newspaper clippings discovered during his 'toybox' forays, or photographs of himself and the other monsters taken with a homemade camera he had cobbled together from an oatmeal can and a set of old eyeglasses.

He sighed, allowing a wave of regret, lonliness, and despair wash over him one last time. These would be the last emotions he would feel. With one last deep breath, he stepped onto the Dreamcatcher's activation pad and flipped the switch.

…..

He was standing in a void. All around was white light, as far as the eye could see. He could hear a voice, but he couldn't place it. Using what little senses left to him in this senseless vacuum, he targeted in on the sound and began walking towards it.

As he grew nearer to the sound, he recognized a very familiar figure, although he was used to seeing only an ankle, or perhaps an eye of this figure. Instead, a very normal-sized Susan sat on the ground, playing with a tabby kitten.

"Susan?" he asked incredulously. She glanced up, startled. As soon as she turned her attention away from the kitten, it mewed pathetically and disappeared.

"Yes?" she asked, voice trembling. "Can I help you, sir?" She got to her feet, displaying once and for all that she was back to her normal size.

"Susan, my dear, it's me. Dr. Cockroach. Where are we?" She continued to look at him quizzically.

"You're not Dr. C. He has antennas, among other things." She said, voice beginning to quaver slightly.

The Doctor looked at her for a moment, dread beginning to well up within him.

"Of course I have antennas-" he said, reaching up a hand. But instead of feelers and hard exoskeleton, he found thick hair. His hands traveled down his face, revealing a nose, dramatically smaller eyes-

"Oh dear."


A/N- Well, I hope you all liked this. Let me know if you think I should continue. I loved this movie, but I've found some of the theories on here somewhat implausible, so here is my take. Please review!