Stuck In The 80s|Druthazar Oneshots

1. Canceled for Revenge

    He couldn't tell if it was the cameras following his every movement or the fans he gained universally, whatever it was, the young kid was pleased. He cherished every single thread of letter he received each week from his international followers. Critics could have kept nagging how the young star was greedy for spotlight, for he couldn't care less. He was satisfied enough to be drenched in fame to mind someone's negative responses. Everywhere he stepped it seemed like no object could escape his evil grin and his famous name. The same name which kids woke up early on Saturdays just to watch his show. Or the familiar name that rang a bell to everyone in the 80s, for it was the biggest hit, Balthazar Bratt.

Although he was only young, Balthazar made millions over the world from his toys to his own chewing gum. However, unlike most celebrities he wasn't fond about money. Instead, it was on how much notice his show, Evil Bratt, has gotten. And it was the high positive marks that kept his mojo on to continue recording new episodes. Just like how they did that day...

Directors and producers ran from every direction. Their rushed bodies went to crank on the lights, adding final touches of makeup on him, and focus the camera for the big star, himself, Balthazar Bratt. He couldn't blame them, for it was the start of a new season and Bratt has gotten goosebumps by starting brand new once again for season 3. He had a feeling this was going to be good one as always. 

After 3 hours of the director instructing Balthazar and his stunt tricks were clear, then came his ending. "Ok now my super star, here comes the last scene!" Said the direction from her chair to her megaphone. "So you defeated those security guards and you feel proud about!" She continued, clenching her fist in the air. "And then you say your famous catchphrase and then its a wrap." The people behind her sighed in relief once they heard wrap. "Do you got that sweety?" Asked the director. Across from her was the scene which Balthazar recently fought in, a security box sealed with variety of locks in the center and railings from each side, guiding the metal box. As well were there a few actors impersonating as security guards, defeated on the ground. Beside those actors was Balthazar who nodded at every word his supervisor has said. His famous catchphrase was one he nor fans could never forget. It was the one every kid unintentionally said with Bratt. 

The young star got in his place as he noticed the signals to go. The camera man's fingers focused closely at the celebrity, meanwhile the people who worked for audio listened carefully so nothing would be left out. Bratt did his part by facing his shoulders to the audience as well as his face. He swung his shoulder playfully saying, "I've been a bad boy." But throughout that process his voice cracked at "bad." Everyone in the studio gasped to themselves, for this had never been a worry. They glanced at the director to Balthazar, the director to Balthazar, the director to Balthazar nonstop. However, the tension didn't stop the frighten star. He continued saying his lines but it only caused his worsen voice more trouble. Bratt couldn't see it but the director was mildy vexed inside. She grabbed her megaphone beside her and shouting out "Cut!" The teen startled and glanced the directors way.

Her eyes darted at Balthazar Bratt, who couldn't even say his own catchphrase correctly. With her hand on the megaphone she began, "What's going?" Her honey-like tone was gone and stumbled by her more firm one. Bratt scratched the back of his head stumbling over his words not knowing what went wrong. "You want to know what went wrong Bratt?" The teen opened his mouth but was snapped by his own supervisor. "You didn't say your own catchphrase correctly! Nor did you say them the way you were suppose to say them!" Balthazar bit his lip knowing every word his director spat was true. "You," Her finger pointed at him. "Better finish your lines!" She shouted her demand, but continued. "So we can all go home, ok my super star." She ended softly with a smile. 

Even though his director appeared friendly, she had a side which Balthazar never knew yet witnessed. Therefore, his quivering lanky body returned to his previous spot. He did the same pose from before while  goosebumps were forming from his fragile skin. "Action!" She screamed. Bratt shook his shoulder in a playful matter. Then came the lines he failed at. "I've been a bAD boy." His voice unintentionally cracked. The smile from the supervisor fell and her teeth gritted. 

"Cut! Cut! Cut!" She yelled. Instead of taking her anger at the innocent teen, she strolled over there to him. Bratt turned his body to her noticing she was walking towards him. She warmly placed her hand on her biggest star, but his shoulders jumped in fear. She looked down at his petrified eyes that screamed help me! all over.
"Look Bratt," She began. "Don't get startled by me sweety. Look, it's not your fault I understand we all make mistakes here and there." She explained, waving her hand. "But you better promise me that by next week this whole voice cracking thing will end. Ok?" Her smile returned. Balthazar nodded with a weak a smile. The director took her hands of his shoulder, turning to the producers screaming that they could go home. They all rushed out at the door, leaving Balthazar Bratt in the dark feeling perplexed and frighten. 

Balthazar's hand crept against his prickly face filled with acne. He stared at the disaster of red dots over taking his face through his bathroom mirror. They seemed to dominate him making him appear like a monster. Bratt thought the acne would be a come and go thing, but alarmingly they were to stay as a part of growing up. However, that wasn't how the teen saw it. He saw it more like a threat or an obstacle bumping him down his popular show. So was his other fearsome features like the braces that ruined his typical innocent evil grin or his sudden change of voice that caused his director to cause a fit. It were these little things that worried the poor celebrity. That was one of the many reasons he bought a variety of acne removal cream. With the cream on his hands, he rubbed them together applying it to his face. He scrubbed roughly wishing they would disappear. But once he washed his face and waited for the results the next day, they were still hanging around his greasy face. He repeated the steps carefully with every bottle he bought yet nothing worked. His veins were ready to burst as he kicked every bottle making them fly everywhere. His voice was another problem which couldn't be helped.

After a whole week of no progression, Balthazar bravely went to his typical studio. As he walked towards his studio, knowing how his director would react, he was bumped by someone. "Ow." He hissed, rubbing his head. Bratt looked up noticing the studio hired a security guard. He ignored him trying to walk by pass him. However, the broad body of the guard blocked him with himself. The teen blinked in surprise. "Hey, what are you doing? I work here!" He yelled. "Name." Said the guard. The teen jumped back in shock. He placed his hand on his hips and began nagging. "How dare you not know me! Were you born yesterday? Because it seems like it!" 

"Name." The security guard said once more.

Bratt clenched his fist then folded his arms. "Balthazar Bratt." He answered angrily. "You're not on the list." Spat the guard. Balthazar gasped. "List!" Exclaimed he. "What do you mean list!" The teen walked closer to the guard. He pointed at him and poked him at every word he said. "Since when is there a list? I am Balthazar Bratt!  The star of Evil Bratt! How dare you not let me enter my own studio!" He snapped. "Let me in!" Whined he. 

The sound of a door creaked caught the  annoyed one's eyes. Out came a group of producers chatting with their individual cup of coffee. He ran to them wanting answers. "What happened to my studio?" He yelled. 

"And you are?" One of them asked.

His teeth gritted and his nails dug into his palm. "I'm Balthazar Bratt you fools! Now tell me what happened to my studio. Did the Evil Bratt studio move?" He shouted with his all might. Then the two people from the group began laughing. "Evil Bratt is the thing of the past kid." The other replied.

 Balthazar's arched his eyebrows. Something deep inside him felt like something about to rotten. His stomach twisted in unexplainable reasons which felt rare. So did his sudden lost of standing up right. His eyes felt like watering down. There were many things that didn't seem to be real. His feelings were nothing but negative. 

"W-what do you mean?" He asked in a whisper like voice.

"Evil Bratt is canceled kid, what else is there to say." Said one blandly. 

"No, no." His lips trembled. Balth bit his lips ceasing from any tears to run loose. His hands covered his face, he couldn't control his tears for they'd flown like a river. "Why!" He screamed. "It's Hollywood kid, not us." He heard. The tears from his eyes made its way to his shoulders, ruining his pads. "I'll destroy Hollywood then! I'll destroy everyone here who denies me and my show! You hear me everyone!" He roared back at his studio and at everyone who walked passed by him. 

Sure Balthazar Bratt was only 14, but he'd make sure Hollywood would get its revenge one day...