An Aqua Teen Hunger Force fanfic
It was another Halloween night. The windows and doors were locked, the electric fence with laser beams activated outside. All Carl Brutananadilewski hoped for was a peaceful night. It wasn’t just kids with the usual toilet paper and eggs in his neighborhood. No, he would be lucky if his house wasn’t burned down, or that he escaped brutal, agonizing torture. This was never a good night for him.
Carl stood in the living room, carefully peaking through the curtain to see out, but not be seen himself. He was middle aged, overweight and caucasian. He was very hairy, except for the very top of his head, and his eyebrows and mustache were darker than his hair. Carl wore what he usually wore, a stained white tank top and old, blue sweatpants with green flip flops on his feet.
Hand Banana crawled up Carl’s back with its weird appendages. The creature, and now Carl’s most significant and stable partner, was genetically engineered from the DNA of an anthropomorphic milkshake, and shaped by computer software designed to create dogs. Hand Banana was a strange amalgam that resembled his name, if one could imagine a four-fingered hand that walked on its fingertips, and colored the bright yellow of a banana. He had the face of a dog, eyes that were small, dark and possessed all of the puppy-dog cuteness. He had two floppy ears and a pointed nose, on a head shaped something like the end of a sausage.
“You seem awfully tense tonight,” Hand Banana said soft and huskily into Carl’s ear as he massaged the big man’s shoulders. It used to bother Carl when the creature got up on him like this, but he had gotten used to it. Carl had adapted to many strange things.
“This is a freakin night of freaks,” said Carl. “And this is New Jersey. It’s a very dangerous place, especially if you’re me for some reason.”
Hand Banana understood. He was mind-linked with Carl. He knew about all of the robots, aliens, monsters, and bad people that his beloved Carl had encountered. “It won’t be so bad now that you have me,” said Hand Banana. It spoke telepathically, through the mind-link. “When those rapist aliens came to get another piece of you, we showed them a thing or two.” *
“Heh. Yeah, I guess we did,” said Carl, relaxing slightly as his partner kneaded his hairy shoulders. “But they were small,” Carl added after a bit.” Some of the things that come through here, they’re like freakin Godzilla!”
Hand Banana crept off of Carl’s shoulders and back onto the floor. “I think I know what you need,” it said. The yellow, doggish creature scampered off and then returned with a can of beer and a fresh baked muffin. “Here, this ought to help you feel better.” Hand Banana knew the direct route to Carl’s heart and mind, was his stomach. Being a pastry chef, Hand Banana always had baked goods on available for such occasions.
Carl sat down on the couch with his beer and muffin. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s pretty quiet out there. Maybe it will be an uneventful evening.
Carl opened his beer can and leaned back to take a few gulps from it. That’s when he noticed something strange in the hallway.
It was a roll of paper towels, but it wasn’t behaving the way it should. It was crawling across the floor, the extended sheet undulating like an inchworm, the rest of the roll carried like the shell of a snail
“That’s not right,” said Carl. “I ain’t even that freakin drunk an I can tell ya, that’s just freakin wead!”
Hand Banana had spent enough time in the kitchen to understand the nature of paper towel rolls, and he had never seen anything like this before.
The paper towels slid across the floor, making only a very soft scraping sound as the towels transported themselves. It came out of the hallway, into the living room.
Carl picked up Hand Banana, and carried him upstairs into the bedroom. The paper towels followed them. Two ply, the single sheet lifted the roll step by step, with minimal strain. From the top of the stairs, Carl and Hand Banana watched as it gained on them.
“What the freakin hell? I’m running away from a roll of paper towels!” Carl exclaimed. He dropped Hand Banana to the floor and had grabbed a shotgun so quickly, his partner could not say from where he had obtained it.
“Wait!” Hand Banana called out, in a voice that would sound to anyone, but Carl, like a dog’s yip.
“Why?” Carl demanded.
“It might be related to me,” said Hand Banana. “I am part paper product, you know.”
“Oh fine then! We’ll ask the freakin roll about its family! Hey you! Creepy paper towels that ain’t supposed to be moving, why the freakin hell are you doing that?”
The paper towels remained deathly silent. Then, towels started to come off of the roll. Longer and longer, the strip of them snaked up the stairs. Hand Banana growled and barked at them.
“Enough talking,” said Carl, as he raised his shotgun and blasted the roll right in the cardboard tube. The paper towels fell limply onto the stairs where Hand Banana viciously tore them to pieces.
Someone was knocking on the door. “Carl! Hey Carl! This is Frylock! I heard a gunshot. Are you okay in there?”
Carl was too shaken over what had just happened to wonder how Frylock had gotten through the security system, but that floating box of French fries always had a way of getting in. No way Carl wanted to open his door to that freak. Not on this night of all nights. Bad things always followed his living fast food neighbors.
“It’s okay!” Carl called back. “We’re just watching horror movies… naked!”
“Okay,” said Frylock. “I thought maybe you were having problems with your toilet paper.”
“Toilet paper?” Carl asked.
“Yeah, ours just started attacking Meatwad. We had to burn every roll in the house!”
“Damn! You better go back to yer house in case some more wead crap starts happening. You know, go protect Meatwad or something.”
Hand Banana’s fur bristled at the tissue box. Carl fumbled around the living room for a book of matches. There was no further sound from Frylock. He must have floated home. There was no trusting him, not on Halloween. Frylock was right about the paper products, but then, he was cardboard too.
Carl and Hand Banana spent the rest of the night burning paper products. They got rid of all toilet paper, which was pretty easy, since Carl didn’t have any, just the paper tubes. They burnt those, along with the tissues, coffee filters, and a chair that got snippy. Hand Banana cried when they had to throw his baking cups into the pyre, but they were already becoming animated and belligerent.
When the sun finally rose through the dense New Jersey haze, an exhausted Carl and Hand Banana looked around the yard at the charred remains of possessed wood pulp, and were glad, at last, that Halloween was over. They made their way back into the house, upstairs and to the bed. Nothing they passed along the way was moving or acting in an unnatural way. They collapsed into bed, too tired to even cuddle. Carl drifted off to sleep with the wish that some year he could get to have a hangover the next day, like other people did, after this crazy freakin holiday.