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[b]Sherman's House[/b]
[i]Independence City, 0100[/i]

His entire bedroom was dark except for the blue-white glow of a desktop monitor. The glow lit the face of a teenager who was hunched over in a black leather computer chair. A black Jack Skellington beanie grasped a head full of brown downy curls that poked out from beneath it and beneath a large Orion gamer headset. Behind black-framed glasses, Sherman was frowning hard at the screen in concentration. The only sound that filled his room besides the whirrs of his computer was the rapid clicking noise from his mouse mostly and the pitter-patter of his keyboard.

“One of them is near base!” Sherman yelled over the mic. “Go, go, go!”

On the screen, three champions were racing through a forest, chasing after some bouncing kangaroo with a great sword.

“Go, go! Stun him!”

While the group was focused on chasing the kangaroo warrior, no one saw the ninja turtle that snuck into base and was secretly taking it down. Suddenly, a cut scene of Sherman’s base exploding flashed on the screen.

“What the fuck? Did nobody see that fucking ninja?” he cursed.

[b]YOU LOSE![/b]

Throwing himself back into his chair with an irritable huff, Sherman scowled at the screen. His chair bobbed a little from his motion, and through his headset, he listened to his schoolmate Harold with the lisp.

“Whatevers Sherman. Ish not like you did anysing to contribute to our win. You were chashing Gladiroo too. We were all shuckers. Better luck next time. For now, I’m going to bed.”

“Come on dude, one more game.”

“That wash the tenth losh in a row. Give it a rest. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Sherman sighed again. “Whatever dude. Night.”

Sherman peeled off his headset and set it on the desk as he started shutting down Hero’s Gauntlet. His tired eyes stared at his desktop as he contemplated cutting on UTube or even watching a bit of anime. Anything but bed. He wasn’t ready for tomorrow. Tomorrow meant he’d have to go to gay-ass school. Once again, sitting back in his chair, Sherman just boredly stared at his screen. Actually, he hadn’t felt like watching UTube or anime. Shit, he had nothing else worth doing, which meant he had to go to bed.

“Ugh, fuck my life,” he muttered.

Rising out of his chair, Sherman walked over to his bed, using the glow of his computer as his guide. He threw back his Marvelous Studios blankets and plopped face down into bed. With his face buried into his pillow, he moaned loudly—moaned and groaned as though his soul was being ripped through his back. He had quite the imagination, didn’t he? Hammering his fists against his pillow, Sherman flipped over onto his back and gazed up at his ceiling.

“Well…at least my dreams are entertaining.”

Grasping his blankets, he pulled them up to his chest and closed his eyes. [i]Fuck school; fuck school; fuck school[/i], he chanted his last thoughts before slumber overtook him.
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[b]Old Abandoned Boarded-Up House[/b]
[i]Somewhere in the projects of Independence City, 0120[/i]

An old beggar wearing a brown filthy jacket was sleeping in the corner of what could have once been a kitchen. The place was dusty with a rat racing across the floor every now and then. Most trespassers had stayed away from the place believing it to be haunted. It was old and made creepy creaky noises. The beggar could see why people would be so superstitious toward it. When one was a man who owned nothing but the clothes on his back, he was desperate to make any place his home and the haunted house was better than a cardboard box in an alley. He was curled up, his arms hugging his chest to keep warm when suddenly a warm yellow light began to bathe him.

The beggar cracked open his brown eyes, squinting through the sudden light that filled the place. He heard the clatter of silverware and smelled fried dough…pancakes? His eyes opened wider to take in the sight of a whole kitchen. His once dusty surroundings were completely spotless. He even found himself leaning against buffed wooden cabinets. The floors were white tile. There was a boy, a girl, and a father all seated at the kitchen table. The man of the house was reading a newspaper. His wife was at the stove cooking flapjacks.

Mary Ann’s brown brows rose on her forehead when she noticed the old man suddenly in their kitchen. She was wearing a yellow dress with a red ribbon holding her brown curly locks in a ponytail. Resting her hands on the table, she pulled her white stocking-covered legs into her chair and sat up, pointing across the table passed Chris.

“Look! It’s an old man!” she announced.

Chris turned in his chair to gaze back at the old man who was trembling in terror. Blinking slowly, he sighed and complained, “Daa~d, another one got in the house again.”

The man who was reading the paper was dressed in a black suit with a purple undershirt and wine-red tie. He merely turned the page of his newspaper and muttered, “He’ll just get scared and leave. That’s what they all do.”

As though on cue, the old man began whimpering and immediately rose to his feet and fled out of the kitchen. He ran right out of the brand new apartment, closing the door behind him. Mary Ann pouted, “Aaw~ I was gonna share my pancakes with him.”

“Don’t talk to strangers Mary Ann,” Mr. Infinity told her. “Besides, I wouldn’t share your mother’s pancakes with anyone. They’re the best.”

Sharon turned around with a bright smile. She had oven mitts on her hands and was holding a frying pan unusually stacked high with pancakes. “Who wants pancakes?” she asked on a sing-song voice.

“ME!” Chris and Mary Ann chorused.

The lovely brunette in a similar yellow dress as her daughter walked around the table, placing a spatula full of stacked pancakes down on her children’s plates before she placed the last stack on her husband’s. Mr. Infinity folded the newspaper and looked up at his beautiful lady.

“Morning Beautiful,” he greeted with a content smirk on his face.

Sharon bumped him gently with her hip. “Morning my gorgeous husband.”

She leaned down to press her ruby lips to his, leaving her lipstick residue on his face. Mary Ann laughed through cheeks full of pancake matter at her father. “You got Mommy’s lipstick on your face!”

Mr. Infinity grasped his napkin and wiped the residue from his lips. He then looked back at his wife, his eyes running up and down her backside before he turned back around to face his pancakes. He inspected the yellow stack of buttery cakes.

“You outdid yourself this time. I don’t know if I can finish this,” Mr. Infinity complimented.

“I’LL EAT THEM!” his children chorused.

“No, me!” Mary Ann shouted.

“You got to eat Dad’s pancakes last time!” Chris yelled back.

“No!”

Mr. Infinity raised his hands and made a downward motion with them. “Woah, woah, settle down. There’s no need for a shouting match. I was only joking. I’m going to eat all of these pancakes, and if you’re not careful I’ll eat yours.”

His amber eyes mischievously motioned from Chris to Mary Ann. His children protectively wrapped their arms around their plates as they stared back at him. Mr. Infinity cracked a grin and laughed, “Pass the syrup please.”