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Truth or Dare, Dimmsdale Style	By : misato29 Category: +1 through F > Fairly OddParents Views: 29307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairly Oddparents or any of the characters in this story. I have no financial interest, expect no money, etc. I wrotes this for my own pleasure. Comments are most welcome.

Chapter List
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Timmy had never seen that look on Vicky’s face before. It would haunt his nightmares… and give him daymares, too. “God, she is going to so totally kill me” he thought. He wanted to call Cosmo & Wanda, but couldn’t remember how. Besides, he would rather die than have his God-Parents see him like this. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had done wrong, but somehow he and a teenage boy were naked with Vicky & Veronica watching. They were taking pictures! In a life full of bad experiences this might be the worst. Worser than that, even! The worstest.
Veronica was still snapping pics with her cell phone. Timmy was so bumfuzzled that he couldn’t even remember to cover up his genitals with his hands, not even when she took ultra-macro close ups and directed glamor shot poses. He just stood there. Eventually Veronica felt sorry for him… but not enough to keep her from taking more pictures. She had 6 gb of storage on her phone and intended to use every mb.
When Vicky said “You are a sick, fucking pervert” Timmy’s heart stopped. He trembled as she marched right into the shower, ignoring the drenching she got as she stalked up to the frightened Greg. “Oh, she was talking to him?” Timmy thought. His heart started again but instead of beating, it hiccupped then sighed.
Greg held his hands over his “meat & two veg,” as the Brits call it (I left this one out of my list in the last chapter). He was almost a foot taller than the enraged babysitter and outweighed her by at least 75 pounds of muscle. He cowered in front of her.
“Hey Vicky-babe, it’s not what you think, I was just… ah, what are you going to do with those pictures? I wasn’t… He came on to me, I…”
“Shut it!”
She didn’t yell, she didn’t scream. Her voice was calm, steady and dangerously low, purring like an idling chainsaw. Hearing her voice mice rolled over and died in their nests, little X’s appearing over their eyes. Pigeons flying by suddenly stopped flapping their wings, preferring to fall to their deaths. Monks in the nearby neighborhood of Little Tibet began to chant the prayer for the dead. Mummies in the Dimmsdale Museum of History called their travel agents and booked return flights to Cairo. The pipes in the walls began to burst as the hot water turned to ice. (Well, you get the point, right?) It was looking like a re-make of Carrie.
Greg’s testicles began to wither and harden. They shrunk to the size of walnuts, then peanuts and finally sesame seeds. His raging stiffie became a deflated softie.
She looked over at Timmy and growled, “Turner. Pants… NOW!”
He momentarily looked up at his boxers on the light fixture, decided not to bring it up and then found his pants. He kept trying to put both legs through the same hole.
“Starr, help the twerp.”
Veronica knew better than to object. In fact, she was fascinated by the events of the day. “High school is like way, way more kick-ass than I thought it would be.” She rapped Timmy on the back of his head to reboot his brain. Vicky nodded her approval. “This Starr kid is all right,” Vicky thought. Veronica rapped him again to get him moving. Then rapped him a third time because… well, just because.
Greg lost his footing and fell to the floor. Placing one foot on top of his genitals, Vicky said “Stay away from the twerp. Make sure your little brother Francis stays away from the twerp. No one else fucks with the twerp… except for Starr.” Vicky, in a rare moment of constraint resisted the urge to stamp down on his pathetic little cocktail weenie and two sesame seeds.
She resisted the urge… mostly.
Then there was this awful ‘squishy’ sound followed by crying. Vicky left, scraping the sole of her shoe as she walked. “Gee, I must have stepped on something,” she was heard to say.
Vicky caught up to Veronica and Timmy. They were all soaked. Vicky had lost her scrunchy somewhere and her damp red hair seemed darker than usual. It spiked in all directions forming the world’s worst case of bed head. The slash of lipstick and eyeliner had disappeared giving her a less fierce look than Timmy was used to. “She looks almost human” he thought. That meant Timmy better stay on his guard, a human Vicky might be more dangerous than the usual inhuman one he was used to.
Veronica looked different also. The water had washed out the many layers of mousse and spray she used to freeze her hair in place. Timmy remembered a cheer leading mishap where she landed upside down on her head, her hair acting as a crash helmet and the oversized bangs acting as springs catapulting her back to her feet. It was impressive and totally unnatural. She had never realized that Timmy had wished her back to her feet so she wouldn’t be embarrassed. She was a terrible cheerleader, but was voted cheer captain because Trixie wanted it that way.
The water had also darkened her hair like it had done to Vicky. Veronica was a natural blonde, but her hair wasn’t the bright unnatural sunlight yellow she went to great effort to maintain (and greater effort to deny the dye job). Timmy had almost forgotten the darker honey blonde shade underneath the dye.
After a few more silent steps, Timmy said “Uh, Vicky… I, I just err…”
“You’re welcome, twerp” she replied.
Veronica slapped him on the back of the head again.
Vicky sighed. “I need some beer.”
Vicky got into her old beat-up convertible and it was clear Ronnie would ride shotgun. Timmy was pleasantly surprised when Vicky let him sit in the back seat, usually she put him in the trunk or on top of the engine block (“… but it leaves such interesting burn marks,” she would say) or tied to the bumper or dragged by a chain, or-or-or… But just to show that she hadn’t gone soft, she adjusted her seat back and forward a few times until Timmy lay squashed and twitching on the floor. Timmy appreciated her effort, undisguised torture was better than a sudden change in personality… like the way Ronnie, err… Veronica’s personality had changed that time.
Timmy usually tried not think about Ronnie/Veronica and succeeded most of the time. As Timmy saw it, the problem was that Veronica was:
1. Crazy
2. Always hanging around with Trixie
3. Crazy
4. A pain in his ass
5. Crazy
6. Sick & twisted
Vicky drove to the nearby ElevenSix+One store. She leaned over the car seat. “Ack, don’t hug me!” Timmy started to say before he realized that she was just reaching into his pocket to take his wallet. “Oh, I guess I’m paying for the beer?” Some questions are just too stupid to deserve answers.
A few minutes later Vicky was back in the car, cursing under her breath. “How dare he accuse me of using a phony ID.”
Veronica said, “Well, you like what, 16? I mean, duh. Like for sure, no one is going to let you buy beer.”
“But it wasn’t a phony ID,” Vicky insisted. Veronica opened Vicky’s handbag. Timmy winced but Veronica was unconcerned as she pushed the bear trap, poison gas pen and hand grenades aside. Evidently these traps were designed against boys, not other girls.
Veronica looked at Vicky. “Brittany Brittany? Really? You tried using phony ID for her??”
“I said it’s not a phony ID. It’s real, it just isn’t mine. But it has my picture on it.”
“No” said Veronica. “It’s her ID picture, you just used a red marker on her hair!”
Vicky hit the brakes almost flipping Timmy out of the car.
“Are-You-Saying-That-I-DON’T-Look-EXACTLY-Like-Brittany-FUCKING-BRIT-AN-Y?” Vicky said through clenched teeth.
Timmy thought, “That’s it, the end of Veronica, I’ll be the only witness to her murder.”
Veronica snorted, “OH Pull-ease, girlfriend! Turner with his pants off looks more like that cheap bimbo than you do.”
Timmy was amazed when Vicky just laughed and said “It almost worked until the attendant asked me to sing. I couldn’t remember the lyrics to any of her songs.”
“No one can!” replied Veronica. “That’s why she’s still a star.”
The two laughed together as the car peeled out of the driveway they had skidded into. Timmy decided to disconnect his brain for a while, it wasn’t working right anyway.
“Say, why do you have her ID anyhow?
Vicky said, “It’s a souvenir I picked up.”
“And her credit cards?”
Vicky just smiled.
Veronica told Vicky that she knew a place where they could get free beer without getting busted.
“Great,” mumbled Timmy. “A road trip with drunken psychopaths.”
“Shut up, twerp” they said in unison.
A half hour later they pulled onto a long side road within sight of Lake Dimmidome. There was an electronically controlled gate, Veronica gave Vicky the code and soon they were at a cabin, obviously an expensive one. There were no other homes in sight. As they got closer, Vicky whistled softly. “Wow, this place must have cost a fortune. I knew you were rich!”
Veronica turned away without replying, obviously upset. Vicky looked at Timmy who shrugged. He had been here a few times years before, but didn’t know what was wrong with Veronica. (Except that she was a. Crazy, b. Always hanging around with Trixie, c. etc. etc.)
They walked around to the back door, passing the domed covered hot tub, tennis court and pool. Dollar signs appeared momentarily in Vicky’s eyes. Veronica found a small black stone, turned it over and withdrew a set of keys.
The first floor was a huge single room with fireplace, divans, chaise lounge, plush carpeting, entertainment center… everything! There was a huge modern kitchen off to one side. Upstairs were four bedrooms.
“If I owned this place, I’d never leave it… unless the champagne runs out! How can you stand leaving this place?” Vicky asked Veronica. “It’s not ours anymore. It belongs to Mr. Tang, like everything else.”
Veronica grabbed a six pack and passed it to Vicky. Vicky took a can and one handed open the tab and took a long, long drink. “Ahhhh, I needed that. Want one, twerp?”
Veronica was surprised. “He drinks beer?”
“Mostly his mom’s leftovers.”
Sarcastically, Timmy replied, “Yes, he drinks beer! He can even answer for himself, if you don’t talk like he isn’t in the room!” Then he took a drink, belched and another drink, another belch and flopped down onto the carpet.
Vicky said to Veronica, “Starr, I don’t know about you, but I’m still wet from the boys shower.”
“Me too,” said Veronica, “There’s probably some stuff upstairs that will fit you. Come on. ”Then looking back at Timmy, “Hey twerp, you know where…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know and don’t call me twerp. I can’t stop her” indicating Vicky, “but I don’t have to take that from you.”
The two girls walked up the stairs. “Like, what’s up with him?” asked Veronica. Vicky replied, “He must be having his period.”
“Not funny you guys, so not funny!” Timmy said as he climbed the stairs behind them.
“Wow, this bathroom is as big as my bedroom” Vicky told Veronica as the two of them shared a shower in the master suite’s bathroom. She was exaggerating, of course, but not by much. The shower was huge, with six adjustable shower heads on two of the walls and a huge overhead fountain. There were matching tile benches, too. Vicky said out loud, “This would be a great place to have a party.”
“You’re right.” Veronica had that same thought. She didn’t really know Vicky all that well. Oh, she had heard stories, everybody had, about how Vicky was the most evil babysitter in town, blah-blah-blah. But she actually seemed cool. Dangerous, too.
Veronica watched the teen luxuriate under the alternating hot and cool water sprays. Veronica was suddenly shy about being naked in front of Vicky. Vicky was a grown woman, almost an adult. She was also the first natural redhead she had seen in the nude. Vicky’s pubic hair grew in small tufts of bright red curls, darker than the hair on her head. Veronica envied her since she herself was only just starting to develop a few wispy dark blonde hairs. “Shit, everyone will know I dye my hair.” It didn’t occur to her that “everyone” wouldn’t get to see her pubic hair… unless she wanted them to. And hair color probably wasn’t the first thing they would notice.
Veronica despaired not yet having breasts. “I look like a boiled chicken” she thought. Her one mature feature embarrassed her the most. Her nipples had begun developing ahead of everything else. She couldn’t wear t-shirts anymore, not in front of boys who would laugh at the “titless wonder – all nipples and no breasts”. The other girls might make fun of her because she wore a padded training bra, but it wasn’t to make her breasts look bigger (well, not just that), it was to hide her nipples. They seemed to have a life of their own lately. She couldn’t keep them from expanding, and pointing and itching and driving her to distraction, especially when she saw a boy or girl she liked. “It must be like a guy trying to hide his boner,” she thought. Then, “Timmy sure didn’t try to hide his, did he?” She might have laughed, except… well, it looked right on Timmy, natural, in balance with the rest of his body. It was smooth, not all veiny or twisted. I wonder what if feels like?” The she remembered Greg and all the other boys she and Vicky had spied on from the locker. “Wow… like stud city… for sure!” But she still thought about Timmy, and she thought about Vicky, then Timmy & Vicky.
Again, looking at the naked redheaded teenager, she asked herself, “Will Vicky know how I feel? Will she laugh at me? I’ll die!” Then she thought, “I hope she knows how I feel” and “I hope she feels the same.”
“Come here” Vicky said, “Let me do your hair.”
Veronica wanted run away. She wanted to fall at Vicky’s feet. She wanted to be in her arms. Instead she sat on the shower bench and closed her eyes. “God, you are such a cutie!” she heard Vicky say and began to lather in the shampoo. “Your skin is so smooth. “ Veronica melted under Vicky’s strong hands. “Are you blushing?” Vicky laughed, but it was not the kind of laugh Veronica was afraid of hearing.
Timmy took a rather long time to shower, that was unusual for him. The bathroom he was in shared a wall with the shower suite, currently occupied by Vicky and Ronnie. “What are they doing in there? He could just hear them laughing, giggling and… and… was that a moan? “Good,” he thought. “I hope that one of them gets sick and dies. They’re laughing at me, I bet. And I didn’t like that crack about drinking my mom’s left over beer.” Oh, it was true, but it wasn’t anybody’s business. Besides, his mom didn’t leave that much beer and didn’t care if he had it for breakfast, anyway. She wasn’t ever falling down drunk, in fact she only drank at night and never seemed sick the next day, so what did it matter? And if having a few sips of beer in the morning made it easier for him to get through Crocker’s class, then so much the better. Besides… beer poured over his Fruity Chins cereal was better than anything his mom could cook.
He turned the shower off and put his ear up to the wall. “Yeah, they are probably laughing about me and how small my dick is. Stupid bitch… bitches.” Timmy had always thought that his 3 inch penis was OK. It got bigger when he rubbed it and lately, he had been rubbing it a lot. “It’s as big as dad’s!” he knew. “They wouldn’t laugh if it got as big as Greg’s.”
He found an old pair of shorts (Ronnie’s?) that almost fit, he couldn’t zip it all the way up, but by wearing one of her dad's oversized t shirts he found, no one would notice. “Is this where Trixie sleeps when she comes here?” When Ronnie’s parents had owned the cabin, this was the bed he had slept in. “Hey, if Trixie slept in the same bed I slept in… that’s kinda’ like sleeping together, isn’t it?” Timmy hoped so. He pulled down the blanket and smelled the sheets. “Lilac and vanilla?” he thought. “Gee, Trixie and Veronica must have both slept in this bed.” Then, “Well that’s dumb, there are four bedrooms up here… why would two girls want to sleep together?”

Next Chapter: “Let the Games Begin”
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Truth or Dare, Dimmsdale Style