literature

BatIM TH.AU - New World, New Rules

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It was a Saturday afternoon when Bendy stormed into Henry’s house, not giving the old man as much as a hello before disappearing upstairs, a tirade of comical squeaks and honks covering up the toon’s foul language.

Well, he was a child friendly cartoon and people simply didn’t swear back in the 30s.

Henry remained seated in his favourite armchair as the little devil raced upstairs and then went silent. He took a moment to fold his newspaper and take a quick look out of the nearby window, only to see an empty street. Sighing quietly to himself, he got up from his chair, leaving the paper on it, and slowly made his way to follow the irate toon.

As he slowly climbed the stairs, he thought about the last five months.

Shit, it had been five months since he’d rescued himself and the toons from his old workplace, Joey Drew Studios. Not wanting to abandon them again, he’d appointed himself the custodian of the three living, breathing cartoon characters, which had brought up some rather unique challenges with his neighbours.

While the local children had taken great delight in living beside real life cartoons, their parents and other adults… had been a lot more negative. Thankfully, most of the complaints and concerns had died down after a couple of weeks, but the local churchgoers and their priest would pay him a visit every other Sunday, either looking to rescue the ‘sweet angel, lost in squalor’, or to banish the ‘unholy wretch’ back to hell where he belonged. As funny as it had been for the first couple of months, Henry now took to answering his door with a loaded Winchester.

He’d received a lot less cold callers, too, thinking about.

As Henry reached the landing, he looked about for where the toon had gone. He was unsurprised to see the airing cupboard door slightly ajar; it was where Bendy always went when he’d wanted to be away from the outside world and it’s harsh, unfair rules.

He stopped at the door and listened. Hearing nothing, he decided to test the waters and quietly knocked on the cupboard door.

“You comfortable in there?” he asked, keeping his voice light as he waited for Bendy’s answer.

“Go away, old man.”

It was a short, curt answer, but still with the affectionate insult. Henry breathed a sigh of relief as he realised this was merely a temper tantrum and not an existential crisis, the latter was never any fun, for anyone involved. Knowing that the matter wasn’t exceptionally serious, he relaxed and settled himself by the doorframe. He kept himself in clear sight of the door’s gap so Bendy would know that he hadn’t left, not that he ever did, and waited.

It was always a waiting game whenever the little devil was in a mood, and one Henry had gotten very good at playing. Arguably, Alice and Boris were better at playing it than him, but they didn’t have old joints that would protest after half an hour of uncomfortable sitting. And with them entertaining the local children at a nearby park, he was currently the only player in the house, otherwise they would have drawn straws.

As time went on, Henry decided to speed the little game along, by doing what would have been considered suicidal in the old workshop.

“Are you just gonna sit in there and mope all afternoon, ya little punk?” Henry needled, adding his own affectionate insult to take the edge off of his words.

Sure enough, the door slowly opened and Bendy peeked out. His eyes were narrowed but the pout on the toon’s face took all ferocity out of the expression. He glared ineffectually at the animator for a few seconds before realising that the old man wasn’t taking back his words.

“I ain’t moping,” Bendy stated in a flat, but petulant tone. When Henry gave him a levelled, unimpressed look, the toon relented and leaned back into the cupboard, curling up and wrapping his arms around his legs. He rested his chin on his knees, huffed, and spoke with a quieter voice. “I’m not…much.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” the animator asked gently, softening his expression as the games and bravado fell away from the little devil. He didn’t move any closer, though, knowing that the demon appreciated his personal space.

“It don’t matter, really,” the toon admitted, shaking his slightly. He sighed forlornly and drummed his fingers against his leg. “It just… made me think of other things.”

“Like what?”

“Like… how much I miss being a toon –a real toon– and doing wacky toon stuff,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t as big a deal as it clearly was.

While Henry, for his limited use of toon physics in the studio, didn’t miss such antics at all, he could understand his friend’s dilemma. Alice and Boris, while downhearted at the loss, had adjusted fairly well to losing the majority of their abilities; but, most of their gags on the show rarely contained such shenanigans anyway.

Bendy, however… most of his comedy lived on the abuse of toon logic. And, while the demon always assured Henry that the outside world, with its colours, sounds, new technology and, most importantly, people, was worth the loss of his toon abilities… that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them.

“Some older kids were teasing little Delilah about her pigtails. You know her, right Henry? She’s the kid a couple of streets away with the little brother who’s always got that… thing in his mouth,” Bendy looked to Henry, who nodded in response. “Well, in my show I’d hit them big kids with cymbals or maybe pop their bike tyres so they’d go whipping out of shot, and then give lil’ Deli and Chris a couple of lollipops out of Hammerspace. But… I can’t do that now.”

“Is Delilah alright?” Henry asked, feeling certain it was a redundant question. He knew Bendy wouldn’t leave the little girl alone if she was upset, but he might not have wanted her to see him if he was as well.

“She’s fine,” the toon assured, a ghost of a smile on his face. “A quick hug and telling her they were just jealous made her smile. She took Chris home for dinner.”

“That’s good. That was a good way of making her feel better,” the animator smiled at the little devil, who gave him a genuine smile back, blushing slightly from the praise. Henry cocked his head slightly and watched Bendy for a moment, his smile turning slightly in sympathy. “So, you’re just missing Hammerspace again.”

“What’s not to miss?” Bendy asked incredulously. His eyes brightened as they always did when talking about toon logic. “I mean, seriously old man, don’t you miss it? I know you only had it for a little while but… wasn’t it just so… so… great? That thing had everything in it! Giant mallets, lollipops, even lunch!”

The last item on little devil’s list was unexpected, and his change of tone to comically melodramatic elicited a surprised snort of amusement from Henry, which he quickly suppressed so as not offend the toon. However, the way Bendy’s head snapped to his told him he’d been too late for the demon not to notice. He watched the toon’s eyes widen in delight and a gleeful, eager smile plastered itself on his face.

Oh dear…

“Do you have any idea how many tasty lunches are now stuck in Hammerspace because I can’t reach them?” Bendy asked, his voice pitching slightly higher and his words just a little faster than before.  His eyes seemed to shine for a moment when the animator shuddered as he tried, in vain, not to laugh at the toon, which only seemed to egg the devil on. “And who knows what’s in those lunches! They might have sandwiches in ‘em! Sandwiches! Who knew something like that could have so much stuff in ‘em. They could be anything, like that ‘BLT’ we had at that place downtown. Boy, those were good! Or, maybe one with cheese and pickle.”

Henry, at this point, could feel himself trembling as he tried to suppress his giggles. If he was being honest, lunch and sandwiches weren’t all that funny, but the absurdity, the sheer ridiculousness, of Bendy’s sudden topic change had made him laugh, and now the little devil was milking it for all it was worth.

He turned to the demon, his eyes misted with unshed tears of laughter, who had suddenly fallen silent. The toon’s brain seemed to have caught up with what he was saying, and he was looking away into nothing, his smile faltering.

“Actually, forget that last one,” Bendy stated, his voice deadpan. “I mean cheese is okay, but pickles?”

The toon gave a full body shudder at the thought, and that was it. That was enough for Henry, the end, the pièce de résistance, the final straw that broke his composure, and he laughed. He doubled over, forehead on his knees for support, as he struggled to breathe, and his whole body shaking. Tears began to run down his cheeks, finally free of his vain attempt to hold a straight face.

As his giggling subsided, he leaned back against the wall and gasped, taking big gulps of air that his lungs were screaming for, his ribs aching from laughing. He raised a hand to his face and wiped away the tears streams from down his cheeks. He tittered for a few seconds longer before he finally felt himself calm down and his body relax. With a final deep, calming breath, he turned to the little devil that had caused such mirth.

The demon’s eyes were as large as dinner plates, and seemed to sparkle. His smile, while small, was slowly growing as shock was replaced by something else. The toon’s entire expression seemed to be a mixture of awe and indescribable joy. A couple of happy tears ran down his face as he stared at the old man.

“That… that was… I think…” Bendy stumbled over his words, before giggling gleefully. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds and his face returned to a more normal, but still happy, expression. “I think that’s the first time I’ve made you laugh, old man.”

“No, it’s just the first time you’ve caught me,” Henry assured. He leaned over and tousled the demon’s head, not that he had hair to tangle. Leaning back as the toon tried to smooth the hair he didn’t have, he gave Bendy a gentle, but level look. “And you dodged my question.”

Bendy winced at the reminder, but relaxed at Henry’s mild expression, clearly glad that it wasn’t a reproach. He sighed and lowered his chin back to his knees. Rather than a petulant expression, the animator found his toon sporting a thoughtful one. He made silly faces as he thought, like he used to in his show, moving his mouth around to silly positions on his face. After a couple of minutes of thought, he stilled his movements.

“It’s not really Hammerspace that I’m missing. I mean, yeah, it was useful and all, but that’s not the real problem,” Bendy admitted quietly. He raised his head to look at Henry, rather than the other side of the cupboard, who was listening to him quietly. “It’s what I could pull out of Hammerspace that I miss. My gags and stuff. When those kids were picking on Delilah, I couldn’t do anything but stand there. I couldn’t play any practical jokes or anything like that. They just hurt her feelings and laughed, and–“

“Okay, okay, I get it. I get it,” Henry assured him. He reached out and brushed his thumb against Bendy’s widow peak outline, clearing away the ink that was beginning to melt down the toon’s face. He was glad to see the contact even managed to calm his friend down slightly, the dribbling ink returning to its rightful place. He leaned back slightly as a thought occurred to him. “Maybe, instead of trying to solve this with toon gags and pranks, you use real world one instead?”

“There are real world gags?” Bendy asked, curiosity instantly piqued. His expression morphed into genuine interest and excitement when Henry nodded at him. “Like what? Like what?”

“I’ll have to take you into the joke shop next time we’re in town,” Henry chuckled. “There’re lots of things in there that I think you’ll like. We could get you a squeaky hammer.”

“Not quite what I had in mind, old man,” Bendy explained, his shoulders drooping slightly. “But… maybe there’s something else in there that’ll help me give some payback to those bullies. Nice and clean stuff, of course!”

“Ah, I see. You’re after some harmless retribution, huh?” Henry noted as the metaphorical penny dropped. He smirked as Bendy shrugged in response, once again showing how much it really meant to him. “Well… in that case, you could always spitball the punks.”

“What’s spitball?” the toon frowned, cocking his head to a side at the unfamiliar term.

Henry sucked his breath in through his teeth. For a moment, he struggled to keep a smile off his face at Bendy’s surprised expression, determined to put on the melodrama for the little devil. After a quick thought of how to proceed, he began his grandiose tale.

What is spitball?” the animator echoed in an incredulous voice. He began to gesture as he continued. “Why, spitballing is a timeless real-world prank that has lasted through the ages! Its ancient art form has been passed down from generation to generation, taught only to those who are worthy of its… its…”

Henry took a deep breath in and tried to calm himself. Clearly his earlier giggles were threatening to come back with a vengeance, and he was struggling to keep up the momentum of his epic tale. He had always been a fantastic animator, but story telling was another matter entirely.

Hesitantly, he peeked back at Bendy, wondering what the toon thought of his antics. He was surprised to find that the little devil had crawled out of the airing cupboard and was all but hanging off his arm. He was enraptured with the old man’s words, by the’ myth’ of spitballing, and Henry had to hold back another threat of giggles at the sight of the captivated demon. He hadn’t even noticed that the animator was struggling to keep a straight face, or maybe he didn’t care.

The toons were all equally as mesmerised by the ridiculous, over-the-top soap operas that they would find on the TV.

“It is taught only to those who are worthy of its mischief,” Henry whispered, leaning in towards Bendy as he quickly finished up his act. “Do you think you’re worthy, punk?”

“You bet, old man!”

Bendy’s eyes were alight with eager enthusiasm and his smile bright at the challenge to be worthy of a gag or prank. The good-natured passion in the toon’s face was reminiscent of the few times in the studio when Henry had done something unexpected and ‘fun’ as far as the little devil was concerned, when then toon had looked… like the truest form of himself.

It was a very welcome sight.

It was then, of course, that the ramifications of Henry’s actions dawned on him. Teaching the demon how to spitball his ‘enemies’ was undoubtedly a recipe for even more numerous complaints against the little punk, which may even extend to police complaints.

And yet…

“God forgive me,” the old man muttered up to the ceiling. His quick prayer of apology sent, he turned back to the demon. “Alright, you little punk, I’ll teach you tomorrow. The good pastor and his flock should be visiting after lunch. We’ll have plenty of targets to practice on.”

Bendy smiled wickedly at the thought.

A short story scene inspired by squigglydigg's Toon Henry AU. Anyone who hasn't seen it, give her tumblr a quick check. I'd heartily recommend it.

The last couple of stories have been fairly angsty, so I thought I'd fluff it up a bit.

I have made myself a master post of my stories, in chronological order, on my tumblr page. I would post it here on Deviantart, but as far as I know there's no way to pin important submissions or statuses on my profile. Also, it will be constantly updated as I add more stories, it would probably be best to have a single master post that I can direct everyone to. And here is a link to the Toon Henry AU story masterpost that I put on my Tumblr page to prevent them from getting lost when Squiggly cleared her blog out a while ago.
© 2017 - 2024 LNicol1990
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SonicRanger-1's avatar
I gotta say. To this day, I still return to read these fanfics. They're just so good! I love every single one of them! You are a very impressive writer! =D :love: