Charlie(mind) 3: Oh my Fucking Shit.

Werewolves and Murders

Charlie sighed at Pyramid Head's unhelpful comments and turned back to watch Moreau stagger and almost fall into the lake. "He just needs some encouragement and advice!" Charlie smiled back as Moreau hobbled back over, wiping his mouth and coughing like a six pack a day smoker. "Good fucking look with that." Pyramid Head replied flatly. "Moreau, you're in luck, I happen to be a romance expert!" Charlie grinned, rushing over to Moreau's side, "Now listen closely; he likes fish, right?"
"I-I.... I guess so?" Moreau shrugged, watching with a smitten look as the man effortlessly filleted a fish and hung it up proudly with a smile on a rack in the roof of his stall. "Great," Charlie continued, "Guess what?! You're a fish! You're off to a good start already!"
"Just because he likes fish-mongering doesn't mean he'd have sex with one!!" Moreau yelled. "A fish actually might have more appeal." Pyramid Head whispered to Charlie, stifling laughter. "Shut up triangle dome. Wait- Moreau, you're a doctor, right?" Charlie asked. "W-well, I was a doctor and a scientist." Moreau replied, looking down at the floor miserably. "Everyone love doctors, they're hot-" Charlie began. "You should go over there and say something sexy like, 'Doctor Moreau has a special appointment for you' or some shit." Pyramid Head chimed in. "Yeah, be confident! Confidence is key!!" Charlie shouted with a grin. "But I'm not confident," Moreau sobbed, "I-I'm a pathetic slimy ugly idiot!!" Charlie slapped Moreau across the face and shouted, "Don't you dare call yourself that, you're a catch, my friend!"
"Pun intended?" Pyramid Head muttered with amusement, gesturing to Moreau's fish-like aspects. "Y-you really think he could like m-me?" Moreau stammered to Charlie, his eyes wide. "Of course, there's always a chance!" Charlie replied cheerily. "A small chance. Minuscule, if you will." Pyramid Head mused. "Ok, first we need to get you out of that cloak and into something dapper!" Charlie grinned. "How will I hide my appearance from the world then?!" Moreau asked in a panic. "Watch the master of fashion design and be amazed." Charlie grinned, whisking Moreau over to a clothes stall and ringing a small, rusty bell perched on it's front. A man walked out, saw Moreau, screamed, "'TIS THE LAKE MONSTER!!!!" and grabbed a pitchfork from under the table. Moreau burst into tears and Charlie yelled, "Now look what you've done you insensitive dickhead!! He isn't a monster! Actually, we need your help." The man frowned, lowering his pitchfork and asking, "Help with what?"
"Help us transform Moreau here with your fine items of clothing into someone so fuckable he could steal every husband and wife in a 10 mile vicinity by taking a single fucking step!!" Charlie hissed with an unhinged grin, punching the stall. "Listen buddy, I'm a tailor, not a miracle worker." The man replied bluntly. "Tailors are miracle workers, you guys can take the most bland or hideous people and transform them into fashion gods with a bunch of cloth and a sewing machine!!" Charlie yelled. "This is never going to work." Pyramid Head stated bluntly. "Pyramid Head's right, let's just go." Moreau mumbled, turning to leave. "Wait," The tailor called, "I... am a miracle worker. Thanks for the pep talk centipede man, I'll do it!"
"Great," Charlie grinned, "Also please call me Charlie, I don't want any connotations with the human centipede franchise." Moreau ran back over and said, "Y-you really think you can h-help me?!"
"I can try." The tailor shrugged, ushering the three of them into his small shop situated behind his stall. "Ok, first, take the cloak off." The tailor instructed, swiftly putting on a pair of glasses and wielding a tape measure like a cutlass. "Do you have a bucket on hand?" Moreau asked. "No, why?" The tailor asked. "Most people throw up when I take my cloak off." Moreau explained. "I'm sure I'll be an exception." The tailor sighed with mild impatience, and Moreau shrugged and removed his cloak, revealing mounds of bizarre tumour-like growths and multitudes of eyes on his back that blinked that looked curiously around the room. The tailor fled and was heard vomiting violently outside. "Hey Moreau, what about this?" Charlie asked as Moreau broke down in tears again, picking out a blue dress. "It matches your fishmonger's apron, though your's will be a little less stained with fish blood." Pyramid Head mused as Moreau cried himself soggy. "Hmm, matching outfits are a no from me, let's try something else." Charlie said, throwing the dress to the side as the tailor came stumbling back into the shop with a groan, wiping his mouth. Charlie went rummaging through the tailor's various suits and dresses and pulled out a crisp tuxedo, holding it up and saying, "How's about something more traditional?"
"Oh, it's hopeless!!" Moreau sobbed, wiping his eyes, "I don't want to pretend to be better than I am! I may be aquatic but I'm no catfish, I want to be honest." Charlie threw the tuxedo to the side, letting out a thoughtful, "Hmmm.." before his eyes suddenly lit up and he shouted, "I've got it!" With that, he rummaged around some more, pulling out a gothic black cloak and saying, "Here! It's your usual style, but newer and with a bit more razzledazzle!" Moreau smiled and gushed, "I love it!!"
"I'm not a fashion expert but you need some knew jeans too, your current ones are, for want of a better word, rancid." Pyramid Head stated bluntly. "Oh, I know the perfect thing!" The tailor chimed in, hurrying off to fling open draws and cupboards in search. Charlie pulled the black goth cloak around Moreau's deformed shoulders and said, "A perfect fit!"
"It's a fucking cloak, how could a cloak not fit unless it was made for either a fucking elf or a giant?!" Pyramid Head snapped. "Can I wear my bone crown?" Moreau asked, reaching for his nightmarish, homemade headdress forged from the bones of villagers. "Here, try these," The tailor said, handing Moreau a pair of stripy green and purple jorts with no rips or holes, unlike his current pair of jeans. Pyramid Head gagged at the sight of the hideous jorts and Charlie grinned before saying, "I love them."
"They're perfect!!" Moreau gushed, grabbing the jorts. "Are you sure?!" Pyramid Head asked. "Who's the fashion designer here?!" The tailor snapped. Moreau went to put on his bone crown and the tailor turned to him and said, "Hey, I have a wig, I think it would go better than a bone crown with the outfit we're compiling for you."
"Lemme see!!" Moreau shouted, his webbed hands grasping the air in excitement. The tailor hurried off to get the wig, and Charlie held up a massive baggy shirt that read, 'Fish want me, women fear me', and said, "This shirt is perfect, it's humorous, and everyone loves humour in a partner!"
"It's also very accurate." Pyramid Head chimed in with amusement. Moreau pulled the shirt on and grinned at it's sentiment before reapplying his cape and saying, "I feel dapper."
"Here, a bowtie! It's not too far from your usual style, just a little touch to add even more pizazz." Charlie grinned, handing Moreau a bright green bowtie. Moreau put it on and teared up at how normal it made him feel. "Here's that wig you wanted." The tailor announced, carrying a bouffant bright red wig and placing in on Moreau's head. "Wow!" Moreau gasped, his eyes shining. Charlie pulled up a dressing curtain and said, "Here, get changed into your new jorts behind here so we can see the final result!" Moreau rushed behind the curtain and hurriedly changed out of his ripped, waterlogged jeans into his new jorts, before finally stepping out and saying excitedly, "How do I look?"
"Amazing!!" Charlie yelled with a grin. "I'm speechless." Pyramid Head stated flatly. "Hang on, you need shoes. Any preferences?" The tailor asked. "I like crocs." Moreau replied, and the tailor nodded and rushed into his back shop. Pyramid Head looked up at Charlie, clearly concerned despite not having a visible face as he looked from Charlie to Moreau, then back at Charlie again. The tailor reappeared with three choices of crocs and said, "These look like they'll fit, which colour do you like best?" One pair was blue, one pair was green, and one pair was neon pink. Moreau, obviously, chose the neon pink pair, slipping them onto his webbed feet and standing up. Charlie gasped, something catching his eye, and pulled down a pink fluffy scarf from a top shelf. "This will match!" Charlie grinned, draping the scarf on Moreau's shoulders. Moreau held the scarf in his hands and said in a slightly braindead manner, "Soft."
"Is that all you'll be wanting from my humble little business?" The tailor asked. "Yes, this is everything I want!" Moreau replied with a smile. "Great, that'll be 345 dollars, please." The tailor replied with a smile. "RUN!!!" Pyramid Head yelled, grabbing Moreau by the hand and fleeing the shop. "B-BUT, BUT TH-THAT MAN-" Moreau stammered as he was dragged along behind Pyramid Head. "FUCK HIM, IN THIS HOUSE WE STEAL!!!" Pyramid Head yelled back as he ran. "Hey!!" The tailor yelled furiously, and Charlie sighed, reached into his Gucci purse, produced 400 dollars and handed it to the tailor saying, "Keep the change." When Charlie stepped outside the shop, the sight that greeted him actually caused him to stop smiling. Gonzo and Gru, standing gleefully holding a gigantic spike with Endie's severed head stuck on top like a horrific trophy. Pyramid Head and Moreau stood beside them looking just as horrified as Charlie, and Pyramid Head turned to him and shouted, "Me and Moreau found them walking around town like this!! With Endie's head!!! On a fucking stick!!!"
"Yikes." Charlie said, his permanent grin forcefully returning. "W-where's his body?!" Moreau asked, looking around frantically. "Who gives a shit, this is about you and that buff fishmonger!" Pyramid Head snapped, changing his tone very quickly once he got over the shock of the product Gru and Gonzo's warped minds when left alone with a defenceless mortal. "I-I.... I can't do it!" Moreau wailed, covering his face with his hands. "Pull yourself together man!! The worst he can do is say 'no'." Pyramid Head snapped. "You've clearly never seen people react to me before," Moreau said through sobs, "The worst they can do is scream and then try to kill me."
"I dunno," Pyramid Head mused, "He looks like he can handle your.... looks," he added, watching as the man stabbed a fish with the force of a pro-wrestler, his bicep bulging, and then pulled out a blowtorch, firing a stream of searing fire at the dead fish at the end of his knife and laughing manically. "Isn't he perfect?" Moreau gushed. "Go and talk to him, you'll be fine!!" Charlie encouraged, giving Moreau a gentle push forwards. "O-ok ok, but I'm taking the wig off. I feel like a catfish with it on." Moreau said, removing his bouffant red wig. "You know it's bad when a red clown wig improves your looks." Pyramid Head whispered to Charlie, who elbowed him again. Pyramid Head pulled out his polaroid as Moreau very hesitantly approached the blonde fishmonger with shaking legs, and he turned to smile at him and said in a thick Russian accent, "Lord Moreau, yes? You are somewhat of a legend around here! Do you like fish?" Moreau let out a noise like a dying moray eel and collapsed. Charlie scuttled over, propped him back up and then scuttled back to stand with the others, watching eagerly as Moreau stammered, "I- I... um, I- uhh... w-what was the question?"
"He's butchering it." Pyramid Head stated under his breath. "Do you like fish, to eat? Oh, or maybe that's cannibalism! I meant no offence." The russian fishmonger smiled. "Y-yes!! I eat fish!! I like fish!!!" Moreau yelled in a panic. "Good, here, I'll fry you one of your choice, on the house! Your my favourite local myth!" He replied cheerily, gesturing to the array of deceased marine creatures stacked across his stall. "DID YOU KNOW I'M A DOCTOR?!!!" Moreau screamed, pointing stiffly to a sea bass. The fishmonger picked up the bass and said, "No, I didn't! That's cool, you have to be pretty smart to be a doctor! How do you want this cooked, flash fry, baked, smoked-"
"RAW!!!!" Moreau screamed in a blind panic, shaking like a monster on meth. The russian fishmonger shrugged with a smile and handed Moreau the raw sea bass, watching as he devoured it whole and yelled robotically, "I WILL PAY FOR IT EVEN THOUGH YOU SAID I DIDN'T HAVE TO!!! I WILL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING I OWN!!!!! YOU ARE VERY KIND!!!!!"
"Oh no, it's on the house!" The man replied, grinning manically as he poured gasoline on his portable fryer and watched as the entire thing burst into flame, throwing a live squid into the fire and dumping more gasoline on it as it writhed about. Moreau felt his heart beat to the rhythm of Oh No! by Marina and The Diamonds and collapsed again with a strangled gurgle. "Moreau, compliment him!!" Pyramid Head yelled from across the street. "Y-you... I- you- handsome!!" Moreau blurted from the floor. Suddenly, a pack of werwolves came tearing down the street and began maiming everyone in their path, leaving mangled bodies in their wake. "Lycans! Quickly, get inside!" Moreau screeched, jumping up and ushering the fishmonger into the tailor's shop. "Equine cremation." Gru sneered, and the nearest lycan to him turned inside out and writhed about on the floor in agony due to the fact that its insides were now its outsides. "No," The fishmonger said, narrowing his eyes, "I AM RUSSIAN, AND IN MOTHER RUSSIA, WE DIE LIKE MEN!!!!" With that, he sprinted into the swarm of werewolves with a battle cry and reached into his boot, pulling out a cutlass and effortlessly butchering every lycan he came in contact with. Moreau felt his heart beat to the rhythm of under the sea from the little mermaid as he stumbled to the peer and threw up into the lake. A lycan leapt at Gonzo and tore him apart, everyone else watching with mild amusement. The Charliemind gang were all so wrapped up in the unfolding chaos around them that it never even occurred to them to think of forces working against them at that exact moment...

Somewhere in a dingy London alleyway, the slug owner, who had been knocked unconscious by Anne Boleyn but not killed, trudged down with his hood pulled over his head, looking like the type of person you'd see in London and immediately assume they're a meth dealer. As he walked, suddenly a flock of crows landed in front of him and he started, stopping dead in his tracks and watching as the inky black birds morphed into a large humanoid form, metamorphosing into King Henry the Eighth before the slug owner's eyes. "You," Henry said, cracking a smug smirk that pulled his lip up to reveal a rotting canine, "You have some unfinished business, do you not?"
"Maybe. What's it to you?" The slug owner asked bluntly, tilting his hooded head up slightly, the light of an amber streetlight reflecting eerily in his black eyes. "We have a common enemy; you are no ordinary human, you and me both know that. I'm King Henry the Eighth, and I believe we can be of use to each other." Henry said lowly, holding up a photo of the charliemind gang and watching as the slug owner's expression darkened. "I'm listening...."