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130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash

54. Swim (Three weeks before "Anti-Poof")

Wednesday May 21st, "2008"

Year of Breath; Spring of the Frozen Planet

"This is nice!" Binky chirped, breaking his chocolate-drizzled croissant in half. Still warm… It smelled sort of like pudding in his hands. Crisp. Fresh. Wasn't that nice? You know, microwaves were underrated; he needed to get one for his house. All in all, eating at an outdoor café table had been a fantastic idea. Even in a city like this one, Earth always smelled so fresh and green. The fairy leaned back in his chair, bringing the croissant to his tongue. "You know, it really is too bad we never hang out anymore… Let's do brunch again sometime!"

He received no response from the two fairies sitting across from him. In fact, neither of his companions - one with curly purple hair, the other with waves seafoam green - had spoken the entire lunch. Oh, they'd both tried… They'd also both tried to eat, though were shaking apart with coffee cups in hand right about now. Chrysalis kept one hand on his bowtie, practicing breathing exercises that were meant to help him maintain his human form. Minty had already replaced her earrings twice because she jittered so much, they kept falling out. Neither had touched their own croissants. Binky gazed back at his friends in silence, chewing on his treat. Then he tilted back his head. Ah. Right… Wednesday. You know, when you spent every hour of your work day under Jorgen von Strangle's shadow, sometimes you really could forget the man was always there. He loomed behind Binky with a hoagie in one hand, his "walking stick" in the other. Jorgen still looked beefy in his human disguise, with nothing much about him changing besides his crown. Binky reached for a napkin and dabbed at the crumbs along his lips.

"How is your godkid?" he asked the two fairies. "Your current one's named Annie, right?"

"Y-y-yeah," Chrysalis squeaked, fighting not to spill his drink. "She's… she's, uh…"

"She's taking care of the class rabbit this weekend," Minty put in. "Mr. Cuddles is such a, um… sweetie."

Binky nodded and glanced at his watch. According to his friends, their godchild was taking a final exam and would be busy for another 40 minutes. Funny… They certainly looked like they had somewhere else they wanted to be. Errands? Yeah, maybe. They likely didn't get enough time for themselves, what with the new godkid. Maybe he should wrap this up. It seemed a little mean to keep them in their seats. They clearly had to go.

"How's your brother?" he asked Minty anyway. Just one or two more questions. Just to be polite. He didn't want to cut their brunch too short, just in case they found that rude. "Is he a doctor yet?"

"Y-y-y-yes," she stuttered back. In the sunlight, the tips of her hair were starting to turn white. She did not elaborate. Binky ate his chocolate croissant in silence.

Brunch ended shortly after. Binky tossed away his napkin, hugged them both, and bid his friends farewell. Chrysalis and Minty didn't stick around any longer than they had to. As soon as they were in the clear to poof, they raised their wands and disappeared. Binky set his hands to his hips and gave a long sigh.

"I never see those two anymore since their new godkid. I do hope things are all right at home."

Behind him, Jorgen let out a husky laugh and Binky glanced up again. Jorgen was a purebred fairy, his thick muscles bulging with a hundred plus generations of magical strength. He dwarfed most fairies by a long shot, but here on Earth, he'd needed to do very little to blend in among humans. Binky had lengthened his own legs and slightly squared his shoulders (not to mention swapped his purple tunic out for a neatly pressed shirt). Jorgen? He stood over Binky in his usual sweat-stained tank and camouflage army pants. In one hand, he gripped the giant star-tipped staff he always kept around as the Keeper of Da Rules. Around the humans, he'd disguised it as a rather plain walking stick. "Ha," he snorted. "Their cowering in fear is because of me."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Binky brushed crumbs off his slacks and glanced about the road. No one in the nearby shops had reacted to Chrysalis or Minty poofing off in a cloud of dust. Were they good to leave? Or should they wait here a few minutes before making a move?

Jorgen patted his shoulder in mild sympathy. His clapping touch nearly buckled Binky's knees. "Well, now we have work to do… Are you ready for our next appointment, old friend?"

They'd spent all week combing through Timmy Turner's locker at the Fairy World Giant Unwished Storage facility. Actually, two weeks… though Binky had been out sick for two of those days, so it barely even counted. He liked Timmy well enough on the few occasions they'd crossed paths. Sweet kid. He had a gooey heart… but he did leave behind such a mess of discarded wishes in his wake. Honestly, it's like Cosmo and Wanda didn't know how to say "No" to him!

Most godkids didn't keep their fairies anywhere near as long as Timmy had, and even then, most of their wishes were, well… Pretty standard stuff. New toys. Tickets to amusement parks. The desire for parents to spend a little more time with them. Timmy's the only one who went so overboard, he was wishing up new, creative things every day. Binky always volunteered to help Jorgen when it came to cleaning stinky magic out of Timmy's locker before it could fester. You never knew what you might find in there, and every year, Binky felt a lot better when the work was done. No living creatures fearfully squeaking in need of food, or crushed by heavy books and bikes… No moldy food… It's just so much nicer to float inside a workplace that's been thoroughly scrubbed clean, right?

"If we must," Binky sighed. He picked a crumb from under his ring finger nail and tried to look at least a bit aloof. But, well… Cleaning Timmy's locker did come with certain benefits if you knew how to play your cards right. The trick was to get your supervisor to grant consent for you to check in on all of Timmy's discarded wishes. That way, once the indoor work wrapped up, one lucky sucker could win a week of guaranteed fun on sunny Unwish Island, where the overflow had been relocated. Maybe even two. All counted as paid working hours, of course. Binky leaned back on his heels. "But I do want to poof out and grab milkshakes when we get the chance."

Jorgen nodded his agreement and lifted his walking stick. Both fairies lingered a couple seconds more, searching up and down the human streets for any sign of onlookers, until the large fairy tapped the base of the stick against the ground. Their surroundings rippled like a pebble thrown in water. Binky winced. His skin caught fire- the magic of his human disguise fried straight off his arms. Normal, normal…

It's funny. They don't teach you this at the Fairy Academy, but you get used to your insides feeling like they just took a dunk in lava when working with a von Strangle every day. Even standing near one when the magic starts flickering up that massive staff can shake your teeth to their roots. Growing accustomed to the feel doesn't mean it won't hurt like the Darkness. Magic as close to its raw and powerful state as a filtered thing can get… That was the cost of a pureblooded fairy for a friend.

Their bodies contorted, sparks flying through the air. Binky leaned into the waterfall of roaring power. They left the city. A few seconds later, both he and Jorgen popped into existence on a sandy seashore.

They definitely weren't in Dimmsdale anymore… That was certain. While California had its share of beachfront property, the surrounding temperature felt like it had been kicked up another 10 degrees. Binky, who'd had his legs braced on solid ground and not sloping sand, toppled forward with a yelp. A hermit crab goggled its eyestalks at him, snapped a claw, then scuttled off. Binky sat up and spewed a stream of wet sand like a fountain. He tried to get back to his feet, but a burst of water crashed over his head with a GWOOSH! He tumbled in the spray, paddling his arms and legs.

"EEP! Something's got me! I can't see, I can't SEE! It's in my eyes! HELP!"

Water slurped and spun around him, pulling at his skin. Binky slapped his hands around and his palm hit the sand again. Wait… Solid ground? So he hadn't been dragged out into the open ocean? Binky blinked, trying to mop saltwater from his face with a damp sleeve.

I'm okay?

Massive fingers closed on the nape of his shirt. With a tug, Jorgen pulled the dripping wet little fairy from the wet sand and dangled him near his face. He was not smiling. Not angry, but definitely not amused. Binky took a breath to settle his lines. As the invisible slivers of magic steadied out above him, locking once more into the magic of the Big Wand's clean energy field, he cracked a shaky smile.

"Aheh heh… Wow. It's really pretty down here. Who would've guessed, right? Gee. It really goes to show that even the Bermuda Triangle can be beautiful if you give it a little love and care!"

Jorgen surveyed their surroundings with a swift glance. Binky surveyed too, shielding his eyes from the naked sun. Well… And from Jorgen's unimpressed scoff. The ocean looked pretty. It sparkled turquoise blue. The waves lapped at the larger fairy's feet, sucking at his combat boots. It sure didn't look so dangerous from up here. Binky felt his limbs wilt in Jorgen's sturdy grasp. Wow, that was embarrassing. Had a little flicker of water really knocked him flat like that? Maybe he shouldn't be skipping leg day as often as he did.

Jorgen rotated his hand and uncurled his fingers, allowing Binky to stand on his palm. "This place is too dangerous for a puny fairy like you to be walking on the sand. You'd best stick with me, my friend."

"Yeah, I hear you." Binky took another slow, even breath. Then he crouched and buzzed his wings. They flicked saltwater droplets all over both him and Jorgen, but didn't lift him off the larger fairy's skin. Oh. Too wet, even though he'd only been splashed for a few seconds. They exchanged glances, shrugged, and Binky leapt to Jorgen's shoulder. Well… At least now he didn't have to walk. Some days, friendship with a von Strangle could be the gift that keeps on giving.

Binky closed his fingers around Jorgen's white hair and leaned over his head. "Ooh, look! A real Earthside conch shell!"

Jorgen bent down to scoop the exposed shell in his hand. It was cream-colored with a spiral of pink coasting through it like a waterslide. Cocoa brown bloomed from its center like something chocolate-filled. Jorgen handed the shell to Binky, who held it to his ear as Jorgen kept walking down the beach.

"I can hear the ocean!" he cheered. Jorgen paused, almost tripping in the sand. Binky glanced over at the white-capped waves pounding on the shore. "Well… It's a nice color, at least."

Unwish Island wasn't just home to an overflow of Timmy's unwished wishes. Coral-pink flowers bloomed from jade-green bushes. Tall palm trees, each laden with a trio of coconuts, swayed gently in the wind. Scallop shells, ghostly white crabs, bright starfish, and sand dollars decorated the shore. A few minutes into their walk, unable to resist, Binky gave his wand a shake. In a poof, he'd replaced his button-up work shirt with a bright floral ensemble- complete with shades and a coconut drink to sip. He tried not to slurp loudly in Jorgen's ear. As they went along, he scanned the air for any sign of flying creatures. A distant orange blur looked intimidating, circling slowly like a vulture, but it didn't seem to be bothering anyone. That meant it wasn't his problem. Down here, he answered to no one except the sunshine and the Keeper of Da Rules. With another wand shake, he poofed up a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing the cream on the back of Jorgen's neck. Jorgen grunted.

"Suntan lotion? I can poof the endgame here up instantly, you know."

"I know," Binky answered. "But isn't it nice to drink in the beauty of the human world every now and then? To stop and smell the roses?"

"Too girly," Jorgen sniffed. Binky stuck out his tongue and didn't get another response. Jorgen never had been the type to willingly take the longer way around a problem. He even poofed off his bed to the floor some days, and wrote excess magic for "fast reaction time" off as a business expense every year. The walk they took today was for Binky's merit alone. Jorgen wouldn't even be doing this if he weren't here. What was the harm in showing a little appreciation with a bit of sunscreen? Sometimes, little acts of kindness could say I care about our friendship better than any wand wave ever did.

Several minutes later, a large, blocky building came into view between the palm trees ahead. The silver walls gleamed with floor-to-ceiling glass. As they drew closer and closer (Jorgen whacking plants from his path with his staff all the while), Binky leaned back his head. It was early afternoon here in the Bermuda Triangle. The sun blazed high in the sky, leaving the building below to catch only the smallest of shadows. Club "We Hate Timmy"… Unwish Island's fancy schmancy resort hotel (spa included). Binky leaned back his head. Seven Jorgens stacked on top of each other wouldn't be enough to reach the roof. Eight? … Maybe. He slurped loudly from the coconut in his hand and flicked his eyes around again. They were on a mission… a work assignment, and it wouldn't do to forget that. While Binky liked to believe that Timmy's discarded wishes had grown pacified with their fate, he'd been around the block enough to know better than to let his guard down. He kept his wand firmly in his hand.

You could fit at least two hundred people comfortably inside that hotel, and that was if each of Timmy's sentient wishes received their own room. The number might be give or take, of course… The Pumpkinator, Super Bike, and the Sphynx were just a few island residents whose size and shape required special arrangements. Jorgen stepped into the shade and walked around to the hotel's corner. He and Binky both peeped around the edge. Voices cheered and babbled from the far side of the building, but there were no unwished wishes in their immediate vicinity that Binky could see. Not unless Timmy Turner had ever wished for hungry palm trees that devoured the flesh of any fairies who strayed near. In the distance, a single floating, thundering cloud crackled with lightning and rained a stream of unsuspecting cats and dogs down over a beach chair. The creatures bounced off like they were rubber, rolling away across the sand before evaporating to start the whole journey over again.

"Looks good to me," said Binky, sliding down Jorgen's arm. He dropped with a soft pat pat to the brick path and led the way back to the hotel's front entrance. The moment Jorgen pulled open the door, a gust of air conditioning blasted Binky's face. It made the plastic straw spin around his coconut bowl and rustled his shirt. His wings buzzed. He poofed the bowl away and pushed his sunglasses higher on his forehead.

Vacation sweet work vacation…

The inside of Club "We Hate Timmy" had taken a beating. Of course, that was only to be expected with a load of unsupervised unwished wishes who had nowhere else to go, most of whom had likely been wished away because they were a little too destructive and not at all subtle enough for Timmy to want to keep inside his housel. Still, underneath the smudged floors, battered couch cushions, and scorch marks on the walls, the place still looked pretty sparkly. Binky waved at the round pink pig sitting at a computer behind the front desk. A gerbil cage sat at the other end. As Binky strayed close, he felt his wings go stiff.

Wait. Is that gerbil… dead?

The rodent definitely didn't look to be in good shape. It gnawed on a piece of food between its forepaws, its skeletal tail swinging back and forth above its head. Binky regarded it with mild interest (while Jorgen hunched down to get a better look, far more impressed) before turning to the pig at the desk. "Hi! I'm Binky Abdul. This is Jorgen von Strangle. We're here on routine check-up to see how all Timmy Turner's unwished wishes are getting along."

The pig clomped its trotters on the desk and snuffled his way. A pair of long, dragonfly-like wings swiveled open and shut against its back. No crown… Probably not a fairy. Binky waited a few seconds more for any response, but the pig dropped out of the padded chair and floated away, snuffling at the ground. Had Timmy ever wished for pigs to fly? The creature didn't seem sentient enough to run a hotel, so Binky shrugged at Jorgen and poofed up a clipboard. He'd prepped his report sheet in advance, complete with tidy labeling and several lines next to each box so he could better organize his thoughts.

Flying pig at desk, he wrote, then began walking around the foyer, noting down the central fireplace (decorative; unlit) as well as minor damage to the pale blue walls. Jorgen did the same on the opposite side of the area, munching on a fistful of poofed-up bacon the whole time. He tossed a piece at Binky, who just managed to spear it on his wand before it whacked him in the face. Ha! You can't survive as Jorgen's lackey for long without great reflexes. Von Strangle-sized bacon can be killer if it whacks you on the forehead. He'd know. A lot.

Minutes ticked by, accented only by the cheery voices from behind the hotel. The island residents must be playing in the sand or pool. Finally, footsteps echoed down a nearby hall. One set of steps sounded normal, like a human's. Not a Fairy's, because this person walked too smoothly and steadily, like they'd done it all their life. Probably a human kid's. The distance was right for little legs. The other set of footsteps was a little stranger, because they were squeaky and clanky as though robotic. They came closer and closer, all the way up to the archway on the other side of the lobby, before they stopped. Binky wrote one more note about crooked light fixtures, then looked up to see which unwished wish it was.

Uh…

Beg your pardon?

He'd never seen the boy standing in the hall before. Human, by the looks of him. In fact, he must have been around Timmy's age… maybe one year older, maybe two at the absolute most. Pale skin, notably tanned from working outdoors. Blue eyes. Rounded nose. Cold but cheery smile. Uh. Binky didn't recognize him from the timestream photos that Cosmo and Wanda attached to most of their godparent reports. Binky's eyes flicked down to the clipboard in his hands. He ran his finger down the list, then checked the second page. Then the third. Who the heck was this kid? He didn't match any of the unwished wish descriptions that Binky remembered reviewing between this summer and last.

The boy wore a red t-shirt. His brows were bushy. A thick scoop of chocolate fudge hair curled from his scalp in two directions, forming two distinct points like a pair of little horns. Or a croissant. He smelled like old socks even from here, but as he observed the two fairies in the room, those bright blue eyes gleamed with a spark of interest. When Binky made eye contact with him, the kid smirked and propped one elbow on the nearest wall.

"Well hey, sugar pie honey bunch… You two take a wrong turn into the Milky Way and miss a multidimension comic con? I've been there before."

"Bark bark!" yapped the robot dog beside him. The guinea pig on the front desk squeaked and rattled the bars of its cage. Binky blinked at the dog, wondering where it had come from. It had a small, square body with some sort of glowing dome on his skull. Its eyes gleamed red. Binky didn't remember it from the last time he'd visited the island. And if it was new, it should have been rerouted through Timmy's locker before it was poofed out here. Where was that on his record? Had it been one of those days he'd taken off sick? But… then Jorgen would have done the paperwork, which Binky would have reviewed when he came back. Jorgen always did the paperwork.

The robot dog, sensing pushback from Binky's puzzled stare, ducked its head and let out a whimper. It scooted behind one of its master's legs. The boy gave it a solid kick, clanking the dog's rear loudly, to shove it in front of him again. The robot shuddered, then lifted its head. Those red eyes pierced straight through Binky's soul. But, well. That was just part of the day job of working with Jorgen or hanging around the Anti-Fairy prison too. Apparently, workplace vibes could follow you even out to a distant island.

"We have an appointment," Binky answered, going back to his work. You know, he was impressed. He'd expected a lot more broken windows and damaged doors. The hotel looked safe enough, all things considered, though definitely not baby-proof. Now that Cosmo and Wanda had a kid, it was better to be safe than sorry and route all living things through the storage facility until they could be checked over, juuust in case. Poof was one of Timmy's wishes, and although his physical genes locked him into this world and shouldn't impact him when Timmy's memories were someday wiped, you never really knew what might happen. Binky had seen the kid's closet and peeked underneath his bed. Timmy had a bit of a hoarding problem with some of his things. He could very easily say someday, "I wish all the unwished wishes in my room would poof someplace else," and Cosmo and Wanda - through no fault of their own - might accidentally sweep their baby away in the process.

That would be complicated. Since some of Timmy's wishes here on Unwish Island shared his genetic code, any one of them could yell for Cosmo and Wanda to poof to them and they'd have to answer whatever wishes they made. Jorgen had placed a magical "umbrella" of sorts above the island to fritz the connection between the two godparents and the wishes living here, and they were strictly banned from poofing anywhere within range, but… Well, you know. Better to be safe than sorry. Binky had helped Jorgen raise two fairy kids - Westley and Phoenix - tens of thousands of years ago, and if either one of them accidentally got wished away to a place like this when they were Poof's age, he'd totally be freaking out. Mostly over Westley because Phoenix sort of couldn't die (Long story, and the reason why she'd gotten her name), but Westley? Oh, Binky could see it now: Jorgen passing out in a panic while Binky ran about stuffing everything they'd need inside a diaper bag, shouting at him to wake up again. His sides would be in stitches, his lines in knots, his wings ablaze, and he'd hug the little boy tight as soon as they found him again. And Phoenix too, obviously! But Binky never had to worry about her as much as he did Westley.

Cosmo and Wanda would panic if they lost their son like that and couldn't reach the island to rescue him. Thus, it was a lot safer to ensure that if he got unwished anywhere, it would be to Timmy's storage locker. Where they could be evaluated and reported on the paperwork.

So who the hey was this kid and his robot dog?

At that moment, Jorgen turned around for the first time. The energy field shot up like a firecracker. Huh? When Binky glanced up again, Jorgen had gone as stiff as a Christmas tree at his side. He clenched his massive star staff in his hand, glowering at the red-shirted boy and his mechanical canine.

"Jimmy Neutron!? What are you doing here on Unwish Island? You don't even belong in this universe! And this is a secret, uncharted location in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle!"

Neutron. Binky jolted as the name clicked in his head. Right! One of those bulgyverse kids! The universe-hopper! He'd pitched in to save Fairy World a time or two. "Oh, shoot," he blurted, flitting his wings. He bobbed closer to Jorgen's shoulder. "We should visit Shirley's! I knew it, I just KNEW it! That interdimensional pizza parlor will lead to all sorts of trouble! When did we last check it out? I can call Juandissimo if we need someone to poof over and take a look!"

Jimmy jerked his head around. "The interdimensional what?"

Jorgen glared down at him, brandishing his staff. Oops. Binky hid his face behind his clipboard. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the portal.

Jimmy shook his head then, bringing them back to the topic at hand. "Yeah, it's Neutron," he told them, looking unimpressed with the enormous glowing star. "I'm actually a clone of the guy you're looking for and I'm testing out some different names. 'James' is what my mama calls me when she's mad, and 'James Isaac Neutron's the name she yells when she's really peeved off… That sounds like me. I even went by 'Phyllis' for a bit when I first showed up - short for 'Philanthropist' - but none of these dweebs caught on to my hilarity. 'Phyl' for short if you're mentally constipated and can't get the whole thing out. And, well… I'll admit, the name was a lot more fun back when Two-Fangs McGee was still lisping."

James Isaac Neutron.

He handed off his name. His entire name. A shiver rattled down Binky's spine. Every thin hair on his arms bristled at attention. He glanced at Jorgen again, this time gripping his pencil hard enough to crack the graphite tip. Had the boy genius really just… handed over his name like that? Did he even know the creatures he was speaking to?

Maybe not. Admittedly, Jorgen didn't look anything like the cutesy little fairies often spoken of in children's tales. How ironic for a pureblood. To be fair, Binky didn't either. He'd swapped out of his usual purple tunic on the way over and hadn't drawn his wand. Fairy pores sweated constantly for a reason, because in doing so they coated their skin with magic dust. It blurred the lines of reality, puzzling the minds of non-magical folks who looked directly at them and making it just a sliver more difficult to identify them as what they were.

A human who did a double-take or started asking questions could still put two and two together, but other folks would accept even bizarre alternate explanations for tiny wings - "just an awkwardly folded sweatshirt hood" - or floating. They might be adults who were only the size of human seven- or eight-year olds (and some of the shorter ten-year-olds like Timmy), but they were also were ancient, powerful beings who could have quite a bit of fun with a full given name…

James Isaac Neutron. The words flowed through the air as though on a ribbon. There he stood: evil, twisted clone of the stubborn, snarky (but softer-hearted) original Jimmy. He hadn't said the 'evil' part aloud, but he didn't really have to. The truth of it smacked Binky across the face as soon as his name left his lips.

Tentatively, Binky put up his hand. "I- I like Phyllis. That sounds like a really nice name." No one who willingly called themselves Phyllis could be that evil… right?

The clone considered this for a moment, then shrugged and reached down to pat his robot dog on the glass dome of his head. "Yeah. Thing is, doc… As much as 'Phyllis' has grown on me, I think I might settle down with 'James.' I'll find more souvenirs with my name on them this way. And thanks for the coordinates, G.I. Jarhead… I'd already pulled them down myself, but it never hurts to get an outsider's confirmation."

He pushed off the wall then. Both fairies readied themselves for an attack, so James raised his hands in mock surrender. "No, don't worry, doc… If you've got an appointment to be here, I won't get in your way. I'm just a refugee from a dead planet who needed a place to crash on the fly. Don't worry your pretty heads about me. You two scoot on by and do your pretty thing."

"Dead planet?" Binky squeaked. He glanced at his clipboard as if it had an answer for him.

"I mean a planet from my universe, Einstein. I told you: Goddard and I are refugees." He pointed down at his robot when he said the name. Goddard growled, shaking his head back and forth. His metal body squeaked.

Ah. A bulgyverse planet. That was fine, then. That was outside Fairy jurisdiction, even if their universes overlapped in many similar ways. There were no Fairies native to that universe as far as Binky had observed. Human visitors from that world were rare, but they slipped in occasionally if they exited the wrong side of Shirley's Pizzeria. Over the years, Shirley's had expanded to include more and more portals in its doors, but it wasn't exactly something they should talk about here. You weren't supposed to mention the Fourth Wall.

Binky glanced between James and Jorgen. The big fairy looked like he'd been slapped in the face with a dolphin, and couldn't seem to figure out whether to be furious or whether to launch that dolphin into the sea. Binky took a step forward, but before he could speak, racing footsteps came pounding down the hall. A boy in a cherry red cloak (with tall top hat to match) came sprinting around the corner. His cloak whirled around him, tripping up his feet, but he didn't stop to yank up the hem. He skidded to a halt between Jorgen and James and blinked at both fairies with shining eyes. They were also red, like the cloak and hat, which was alarming. He darted his tongue out like a snake.

"My 2 o'clock! Yessss…"

His face looked familiar, though Binky found himself struggling to remember why. The boy came bobbing forward like some sort of squid. When he moved, the nearby shadows sucked towards him as though yanked by a magnet. It left his path flickering with tentacles of darkness. Oh… H-he wasn't all that tall, but definitely taller than the average fairy. Binky spun his mind, trying to remember the details from Timmy's old wish files. Was he human? A cursed human? Binky started backing up until he bumped into Jorgen and realized he had nowhere else to go. The boy leered at him, fangs pricking from his gaping mouth. He flung out his arms. The red cloak dropped behind him like enormous liquid wings.

"Welcome, fairy scum, to Unwish Island! I, Nega-Timmy, call myself guardian of these gates… and should you wish to proceed to the depths of the hotel, you must fight your way past ME! Ahahahahaha!"

He threw his head back and chortled outright, claws upturned. The undead guinea pig squeaked and whined from the desk. Huh. Binky had never known anyone to actually chortle in front of him before, including his own snarling Anti-Fairy counterpart… and Anti-Binky was a force to be reckoned with. Nega-Timmy curled his claw-like fingers. The air conditioning ruffled his gaping sleeves. No thunder or lightning interrupted the sunny day, and the joyful voices of enthusiastic wishes playing in the sand behind the hotel still leaked in through a nearby open window. Goddard whined and sat down next to James's foot. All in all, this snarled greeting likely would have been far more effective at startling the two fairies if they hadn't spent the last ten minutes meandering the lobby, checking for loose power cords and broken glass.

Binky gulped and nodded anyhow, bobbing his head as though on a spring. The wand in his hand hadn't wilted, but… M-maybe he should take a step behind Jorgen's leg anyhow. Actually, Jorgen hadn't relaxed a single bulging muscle since Jimmy Neutron's clone arrived, and he stayed glaring down at the boy without a sound. James, who'd just scooped Goddard in his arms, blinked up at him. His eyes gleamed like innocent chips of sapphire floating in crystal white pools. Though the robot dog wriggled and growled, James didn't seem to mind Nega-Timmy's presence at all.

I guess it falls on me to answer this guy, then…

Binky cleared his throat in his fist. Deep breath… "Hi, Nega-Timmy. Jorgen and I are so grateful you let us book a stay here for a week. It's so good to see you again. I like the new color scheme. Cherry red is my favorite color."

Nega-Timmy sniffed, clearly not believing a word to leave the fairy's lying little mouth. "You ignoramus! This is poppy red. Cherry is distinct. Far too dark this time of year." Then his hands dropped to his hips. He looked Binky up and down and shook his head. "Bah! You are an uncultured caterpillar who has not changed at all since last our paths crossed here… Just look at this clashing ensemble! Those cuffed sleeves! Buttons pulled apart at the bottom! Clashing colors! Entirely out of season for spring! What a disgrace. Did I mention you have no pride in yourself? Your body is a fashion mall and should be treated with respect."

"Uhh…" Binky glanced down at his floral print shirt. "I'm on holiday… And I'm 1/6 dragonfly and 1/6 honeybee, actually." Yeah, he was mixed race, but definitely not a caterpillar. That would make him part will o' the wisp.

"The sad Black Friday discount of a vampire is right about the color clashing," said Jorgen, peering down at Binky from above. He made a tilting motion with his hand, palm down. "Ihh… On a good day, you're more of a summer."

"Oh. Do you really think so?"

Nega-Timmy dropped one fist in his palm. "PAH! Fashion takes no vacations! 'On holiday' is no excuse for an indecent wardrobe! Is the circus in town? Have they begun performing both by land and by sea? No, no… This is a disgrace. Spring should be filled with daffodil yellow, poppy red, cotton white, pastel blue, shamrock green… This purple you decorate yourself with is for winter. Bleh!" Nega-Timmy snapped his fingers twice above his head. Without looking back, he called, "Brother! Sister! Come forth! Our guests have arrived, and one is in far worse condition than I feared!"

Somewhere beyond the corner, a hotel door slammed open. The squeal of tiny wheels broke out in the hallway. Goddard broke into loud yapping, straining against James's arms. James, though, just chuckled and slunk over to the sidelines, out of the way. Uh… What was this about? Binky tightened his fingers in Jorgen's pants leg, his wings flicking off the very last traces of sea salt. He ran all of Timmy's robotic wishes that he could remember through his head. Which one was coming to destroy him now? Dark Laser? Super Bike? Pumpkinator? Maybe even Mark, the Yugopotamian prince, circling back for a stay on an island paradise instead of that filthy dump he more often spent his time wallowing in?

A blur of fabric shot around the corner, gaining speed. Cloth flapped from its central bar, and Binky realized it was a rack of clothing on wheels. Rushing right TOWARDS him.

"WAA!" he screeched, diving to one side. Jorgen stumbled to the other. The rack shot past them both, then coasted to a stop with a screech on tile. Two children clung behind the rack, one of them panting slightly - smiling - after the rush of pushing it while the other didn't even look winded. She bent down to tug the back strap of her sandal from under her heel, higher up her foot. Leaning over like that, she waved.

"Hi, Binky!"

The other figure was several inches shorter, but had the same buck teeth she did. He jumped off the back. His red jacket billowed behind him like a cape. When he saw Binky staring, he smirked and struck a pose. His hands flew out above his head. Bam! Another pose followed as he spun on his heel. Bam! When he came around, the kid tilted his shades down with one hand. He shot a finger gun at Binky with the other. Bam!

Expertly coordinated. Perfectly planned. You could practically hear the jazzy theme music drifting through the air.

"Hey~! What's shaking, Mr. A? You bring me back a cookie?"

"Oh…" Binky relaxed his wings. He loosened his arms around his clipboard, though that would do nothing for the mark he'd likely pressed into his cheek while shrinking away in fear. "Timantha. Imaginary Gary… Um, hey! You both look like you're doing well for yourselves these days."

Better than our first encounter, at least. They'd met when he and Jorgen kept the squealing imaginary boy and nervous comic-loving girl in a couple of snow globes, stacking them in Timmy's locker with the rest of his unwished wishes. Gary had only stayed there a few weeks before the decision to migrate all of Timmy's living wishes outside the storage facility to comply with the Fairy Council's health code regulations. Binky had cracked open every snow globe one by one and given every living wish a choice, but it was either "accept Unwish Island" or "get sentenced to the Hocus Poconos," and the vast majority of them had picked the former.

Quite frankly, dealing with old wishes that way had brought a crack to Binky's core. He'd winced the whole way through… He may not know exactly what it felt like to be an unwanted wish, but he'd experienced plenty of fearful situations in his life before. Jorgen sometimes rolled his eyes at his process, but really, what's wrong with having a little empathy?

Since dropping Timantha, Imaginary Gary, and the rest of the original batch of wishes off on the island, Binky had visited them twice. Nega-Timmy had spent one of those appointments hiding under the kitchen sink, hissing at everyone who walked past. The second time, he'd been napping on a stack of clean towels (as far as Binky knew) just so no one else could have them, because he was evil that way. Usually, Imaginary Gary was the one he spoke to and scheduled things with. Gary may be a five-year-old masquerading as a kid of age ten, but at least he knew how to get organized. And Timantha once hooked up the water fountain to squirt apple juice, though the end result had been so many sticky flies around that it wouldn't surprise Binky if she'd put it back to normal since then.

Jimmy Neutron's evil clone was a new addition to the island… and he was definitely going on Binky's watchlist. James Isaac Neutron. And Goddard too.

"So there's no cookies," Timantha checked, looking disappointed.

Binky shrugged. Imaginary Gary, however, prattled on like he hadn't heard: "That's right, it's me… Thank you, thank you. You can give it up now for Imaginary Gary… The one. The only. The cool." Gary drew a plastic comb from his pocket then and started picking at his shiny hair. Shades or no shades, Binky saw him squint. "Aaand I can see why my big bro summoned me out in a rush. What did you eat for breakfast- a LARPing convention? The reheated leftovers of the outdoor buffet, would you say?"

"They had giant corndogs," James decreed from his place by the front desk. "That's why they've got such big sticks where the sun don't shine."

Goddard barked, flailing his legs. "Fashion catastrophe," Nega-Timmy agreed. "Give it all the oomph you've brought."

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a lot more than our good rack and back-up good rack to fix him," muttered Gary, but he started flicking through the clothes on display. All of them were short-sleeved and lightweight - a great fit for island life - and Timantha held the clothes he dismissed to one side to make sure they didn't slide back into his face. She seemed happy these days, actually… Um. Binky wasn't sure how humans defined "looking nice," but her hair poofed out from a pink scrunchie and she pranced like she was in a cheery mood, so she seemed to be doing well for herself. A dash of white sunscreen still smeared along her nose. Great tan, or else the indoor lighting of this place was weird. Better than Nega-Timmy's anyway, because that iron-deficient recluse probably wouldn't be seen in a swimsuit without magic to force away his cloak and hat. She'd put on a one-piece bathing suit (pink, of course) with a skull smack in the center of it. It wore a little black bow on its head. Creepy. But from the little Binky knew about her personality, that seemed to fit her.

Binky marked her down on his roll call sheet with a checkmark beside her name. Present and accounted for. The lines beside her box were blank, but he could interview her later when a fanged fashionista wasn't pacing around him, judging every stitch of his poofed-up shirt.

"I am thinking palm leaves," Nega-Timmy decided. "Vibrant green may be the best way to work with this one. And I am thinking ocean blue for the larger one."

"You got it!" Timantha called. She tossed a pair of green flip-flops out from behind the rack. Nega-Timmy, who hadn't been looking, got smacked in the ear. James threw back his head and laughed, only for a set of giant flip-flops for Jorgen - which Timantha had apparently come prepared with in her purse - to plow into him. Oh yeah- Binky seemed to remember poofing her up a bottomless bag the last time he swung by the island. Thump went the giant shoe on top of James, and he went down with a conk against the tile floor. CRASH went Goddard. The metal dog scrambled to his feet and started barking up a storm. James, dazed, held one hand against his forehead and blinked like he couldn't remember for the moment where he was.

Oh, brother… Binky, stepping out from behind Jorgen again, cleared his throat. "We, uh… really just need to take roll call-"

Nega-Timmy leaped forward with a swishing sound, landing in front of Binky with a thump. Binky jerked back, squealing. "No," Nega-Timmy insisted. "Politics? Sports? Chess champions? Nobel prizes? These are all naught but absolute garbage! Appearance is ultimately everything. It is one's looks which allow our world to function- not silly laws. I have devoted all of my existence to building a society on this humble island which shall not collapse, and you will not ruin it with your touristy ways. I am an artist! James, can you not hush your lugnut-mutt up!"

James shook his head, hard, as though to clear it. He braced his hands against the tile and squirmed out from under the giant shoe. "Come here, you rust-bucket," he snapped at Goddard. He started approaching with his hands raised to grab. Goddard barked louder at him, shuffling backwards, then extended his neck to bite at James's arm. James twisted away, aiming a kick at the dog in return. It fell short. He shuffled back, glanced at Nega-Timmy, and shrugged. "I tried."

"Pah," scoffed Nega-Timmy, rolling his eyes. Timantha grimaced. Imaginary Gary held his hands over his ears like the dog barks caused him physical pain.

"Binky," Jorgen urged. "Use your wand."

"Oh, right!" Binky pulled it out. He waved it in the air, back and forth, until Goddard stopped yapping and looked at him. The dog's boxy little ears went up. "You want it?" Binky asked, tilting his voice up in excitement. "You want it? Go FETCH!" He hurled his wand across the room. It clattered and skidded under a sofa. Goddard clanked his way after it and started sniffing beneath, wagging his tail. When Binky glanced back, Imaginary Gary looked dumbfounded (hands still over his ears) and Jorgen just blinked.

"Not… really what I had in mind by that."

It took two more seconds before Binky realized why throwing his wand had been a bad idea. He spun around, ready to rush over there and grab it, but Nega-Timmy caught hold of one arm before he could. Gary looped his arm around another. They started dragging him across the floor. "Help," Binky squeaked to Jorgen, but Jorgen only shrugged. Goddard yapped again, scratching his metal paw against the sofa's base. James didn't look like he pitied anyone, leaning back against the front desk to watch his dog struggle to fetch the stick.

The boys dragged Binky over to a floor-length mirror (Not yet missing the pre-splintered chip that should have been taken prior instillation; oh, that was definitely going on the list- Intact mirrors were too dangerous to leave here because they might attract Anti-Fairies). Gary started tossing over the most stylish clothes he had on hand, and Nega-Timmy pulled a make-up kit from under his cloak. Timantha grabbed a can of hair spray and an extra hand mirror from her purse and bounded over to watch. Between their bickering and tugging, they somehow managed to push Binky into a loose-fitting green top decorated in palm fronds and a pair of robin's egg blue shorts. Jorgen watched all of this in thin amusement, pulling on his giant flip-flops. Oh. Um.

There was no time to admire his new look in the mirror. As soon as Gary had gotten his arms through the sleeves, Nega-Timmy went to work on his face. A cloud of dust spewed up as he patted a large puff against Binky's cheeks. Binky drew in a breath. "Ahh… ahh… ahh-POOF!"

A sputter of magical sparks shot from his nose. Imaginary Gary about jumped out of his skin, yelling about his hair, and Nega-Timmy started fussing again. Timantha reached out to him with a small pack of tissues. Binky reached out to take one, still sniffling through the dust.

"You have pretty nails…"

Timantha beamed. "Thanks! Nega-Timmy runs a great spa on this island. I go there all the time to kick back and read my comics while I get my hair done. You'd love it!"

"And why did you come here?" Jorgen demanded, turning his staff towards James again. The end lit with an audible hum. But he jerked it back a second later because Goddard came bounding up, clutching Binky's wand between his metal teeth. Binky flinched. The thing would be badly scraped when he got it back, if not completely crunched along the handle, but he had only himself to blame for that. James reached down and grabbed the star-pointed tip, trying to tug the wand free from his dog's furious grip. Goddard growled, wrenching back his head. Binky watched all of this in the mirror, or at least when he could see past Nega-Timmy's fussing and Timantha's bouncing ponytail.

"Jumped universes, doc," he answered patiently. He yanked again on the wand, this time ripping it right out of Goddard's mouth. Goddard jumped, balanced briefly on his hind legs, and dropped to all fours again. He spun around. His body wiggled. James reared back his arm and threw the wand across the lobby again, this time at the decorative fireplace in the middle of the room. It bounced off the bricks without snapping. Goddard caught it with a jump. "You can pull off that sort of trick if you break a dark matter power chip."

Jorgen's scowl deepened. "'Dark matter?'"

"That's right." James reached behind him and prodded his pinky finger at the undead gerbil in its cage. "Ain't you ever heard what I had planned for Season 4? Brilliant move if I do say so myself… But oh, mercy, what a hit my spine took when I crash-landed here a couple months ago. Actually considered taking Goddard apart to build my own walker." Then he rolled his eyes. "Also, apparently there was an interdimensional pizza parlor I could have walked through at any time; would have saved me the trouble…"

"But how did you find this place?" Binky asked incredulously. He really didn't expect the boy to answer, but James didn't seem to mind a couple questions. Maybe it allowed him to gloat. Goddard had brought the wand back, which he prodded at James's knee. James gripped its two ends in both hands this time, hauling back with all his strength. Binky cringed, but the dog only tussled for a moment before he let his master rip it free. James tossed the wand in the air, catching it in his hand when it came down. And again. And again.

"Look, sunshine: I'm a clone of a guy who had Timmy Turner's DNA under lock and key. I've got a bio scanner, right? The candy corn-toothed wonder over here" - he flicked a finger at Nega-Timmy - "is sort of like a clone of his. In all the chaos and dark matter around me, it just so happened that I locked onto his signals by mistake. Got myself stranded here, so here I stayed." Then he rolled his eyes. Binky could see that much through the make-up brushes and powder, at least. "Look, I showed up to submit myself to your little investigation, all right? I may be a new patron, but I asked around and learned the ropes. I'm here. I'm queer. I'm not doing anyone any harm."

He hurled the wand one more time. Binky watched, dripping sweat, as it arced over Timantha's head. She ducked. Clearly, James had no idea what it really was. Maybe that was just as well. If he did, he probably wouldn't be keen to hand it over. "Hmm," Jorgen grunted, obviously unconvinced.

Nega-Timmy rounded out Binky's eyeliner, studied him for a moment, then finally pulled back his hand. "There… It is finished. At last, you are a passable specimen in my resort! You shall remember your visit for years to come! Let it influence your fashion choices forevermore!"

"Uhhh…" After facing the turquoise shorts and all that make-up powder, Binky wasn't sure he wanted to look in the mirror just yet. But after a few seconds spent wrestling with the decision, he flicked his gaze over anyway. More specifically, to the little hand mirror in Timantha's hands. That would be easier to take in than the full-body one spread across the wall.

Ohhh dear… Binky sucked on his lower lip, searching for… Well, some sort of way to express his thoughts without offending Nega-Timmy in the process. I look like I fell face-first in a bin of kitty litter. I'll just thank the stars that I met with Chrys and Minty for brunch instead of dinner.

Gary snickered. "You might wanna tone down the blush and sparkles next time, Señor Spritely. He looks like that freak clown I dressed up as the other year."

Nega-Timmy whirled on him with a gasp like a dropping elevator, his red cape billowing behind him. "You hush up your mouth! Make-up may be my specialty, but even I, the great fashionista of our era, can only work so many miracles on a creature with so little hair!"

Imaginary Gary lifted his hands, backing away. "Hey, easy, easy, top hat… It's cool." Then he looked down in surprise. Goddard bumped his snout against his leg, wiggling his tail. He offered Binky's wand in his mouth.

"I think he's handsome," Timantha chimed in, tucking the mirror away in her bag. She started digging through it, occasionally pulling out strange, often oversized objects that Binky couldn't possibly imagine she needed, like a glow-in-the-dark toy lightstick, a remote with a single blinking button on it, and a plastic chicken. "Let me see if I have any green for his fingernails."

Jorgen said something about wanting a "blood-curdling red" for his own hands, though his voice was half drowned out by Goddard's barking. "Well, I think I love this new look," Binky said through his teeth. I mean, why upset the already unstable child? Nega-Timmy had been plucked from the depths of Scary World on Plane 16. Not a lot was known about life up there. He hadn't been raised on Earth, and for all Binky knew, the kid might lose his patience and try to gobble him up if he crossed him. Maybe it was about time he updated his everyday look anyway. "Thank you all so much!"

Nega-Timmy stuck his long purple tongue out at his "brother" and blew a loud raspberry. His spittle fell like rain. "Show-off," Gary grunted, tucking one hand in his jacket pocket. He reached towards Binky with the other to hand him his wand. "Well, cootchie-cookie… Let's give you beautiful people the grand hopping tour yet another year. What did you want to see first?"

"What?" Binky jerked his eyes away from his reflection in the full-length mirror. He'd just gotten a good look at his pale and skinny legs. It took every ounce of self-control in his body not to start rubbing his hands against his face, trying to scrape off some of the heavy (and itchy!) oil and powder that Nega-Timmy had layered on him. Gary gave his wand a gentle shake, keeping it out of Goddard's reach as the metal dog whined. Binky took it by the handle. "Oh… Right. I'm here for roll call. Just the usual… Your friend Timmy tends to make some scary wishes sometimes, so we're here to confirm everyone's accounted for and everyone's, well… still happy here on Unwish Island, I guess."

"I am!" said Timantha cheerfully. "It beats the Hocus Poconos! But we need more cupcakes. Also, I wouldn't mind new cookie cutters or a new mold for gingerbread houses. I've been using the same ones for what feels like years. OH! And maybe a dance studio?"

"I'll make a note."

"Cool." Imaginary Gary gave Binky a thumbs up. "Nega-T, give him the request list for new fabric we want. I'll go call Super Bike, yeah?" He walked away, scooting past a set of winding stairs and a centralized fireplace towards the rear of the hotel. Nega-Timmy sniffed. James tried to slip after him, but Jorgen shot out his hand and grabbed the boy by the back of his collar.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"I live here, Popeye," James deadpanned. His body stayed relaxed and he didn't kick, bite, or yelp when Jorgen swung him between his fingertips. Goddard, however, went wild. His barking broke into thunderous yaps and he jumped, straining and biting at Jorgen's hand. The hand was much too far above his head, and although the dog flapped open the panels on his back like wings, he didn't seem to have anything in there that he could use in this specific situation. Apparently, even if his master had booted him in the rear, Goddard was nothing if not a loyal pup. Good to note.

Thanks to all the dog barks, Binky didn't catch the rest of the conversation between them. Nega-Timmy grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the mirror and over to the clothing rack. All the while, he rambled on about the pretty colors he looked forward to experimenting with this season and the next. Vests, button-up shirts, plaid, and suspenders were apparently all coming into style. 2002 was gonna be weird.

Rather than scribbling down notes for all the boy's requests, it just seemed easier to poof them up on the spot. Why not? The unwished wishes wouldn't be straying into a high security area - like a bank - that dissipated magical items. Out here, accidentally blipping into a naked state was pretty unlikely. The resort may have been wished up magically, but it didn't actually have a ton of magic affecting it on a daily basis. Binky waved his wand and an entire rack of luggage materialized in front of Nega-Timmy. The boy stopped talking. His flickering snake tongue drooped against his chin. His ruby eyes stretched enormously wide.

"Oooh…"

Then, squealing, he launched himself into the nearest trunk and started rummaging around. Binky winced as fabric began to fly, but didn't take back the spell. The kid hadn't asked to be wished up… and he hadn't asked to be dropped out here on Unwish Island either. Let him have his fun. It was just fabric. What's the harm?

Timantha snapped her purse shut again and set the strap against her shoulder. She must not have found that green nail polish she'd been looking for, but she gave Binky a buck-toothed smile. Over the sound of Goddard's yapping, she said, "Okay. More cupcakes, more cookies, and just desserts all the time in general. That's the only thing I really wish for. Oh, and a snow day! And new comics. But I'm good after that. I'm going to go swim now, so I'll catch you later. It's good to see you again, Binky. Have fun on your tour!"

"Um. Thanks! You too!"

Right. The tour. This was bound to be interesting.

Jorgen insisted on keeping Jimmy Neutron's clone tightly in his hand. Goddard, as Binky found out, did not have a leash. He couldn't be restrained against his will and a large, chewed-up section of the hotel wall was proof that he would simply fight his way through rather than leave his master's side. James didn't seem the least bit apologetic, and several unwished wishes gave them a wide berth as they made their way through the narrow hotel halls. Binky didn't blame them. He might be a fairy, his skin quick to heal from magical wounds, but that dog didn't look the least bit magical. His teeth were serrated and he'd probably give you tetanus if he bit. Even when Jorgen tried to boot the dog into another room and walk away, Binky caught sight of James dropping what must have been little treats from one of his pockets. It wasn't difficult for the dog to follow them through the halls wherever they went. "Feel free to ditch me at your leisure," James taunted, which only made Jorgen roll his eyes.

"I have dealt with many pathetic annoyances in my many millennia, puny human. I can deal with your ugly heap of scrap. I used to have a snarling mutt myself."

"He's adorable," James argued back, and squished his cheeks when he looked in Goddard's direction. "Who's my loose bucket of nuts and bolts? Who's my junky danger hound? My tin can of low voltage and fried wiring?"

"Bark bark!"

"You're pathetic, you rusty mutt. I could change your name to 'Spare Parts' and you wouldn't even know it."

"Bark!"

Creepy.

Their walk around the bottom-floor hallways only took a few minutes. They just had to check it out while taking roll. Behind the hotel, the sun was bright and hot. Old wishes of all shapes and sizes lounged around the pool or in the sand. Some played volleyball, others picked up loose shells, and others went to work on castles and sand sculptures that looked like they'd been standing for days. Two Giggle Pies sat up and peered at their traveling party, noses twitching. Wet sand caked their fur. Binky skimmed his eyes around, searching for Dark Laser, but didn't catch a glimpse of the wished-up movie villain anywhere out here.

Hmm.

Binky had met Super Bike a few times before. He never really knew… quite what to think of the centaur-like machine. Super Bike didn't really like being touched by anyone other than Gary, but he also couldn't seem to tamp down his love for shameless praise. Gary walked around him for a bit, soothing him with comforting words and compliments so thick, Binky couldn't help but wonder if they somehow doubled as sunblock. The kid just had a knack for that, somehow… Binky had seen it before, and the realization always prickled his skin. Imaginary Gary had a way with words. He knew just how to deliver every one he spoke and always carried himself like he could make a crowd swoon. And probably? He could. Binky had read the reports of the clash between him and his creator when Timmy had originally found himself lured out to (and subsequently stranded on) Unwish Island. That had almost been a disaster.

Note for next godparent inspection, he wrote on his clipboard. Have Jorgen remind Cosmo and Wanda that they're banned entirely from coming here. Imaginary Gary may look like an innocent, fashion-loving elementary schooler, but Binky also knew him as one of the most dangerous individuals on this planet. Why? Because he'd already shown violent tendencies, he held a great deal of sway over his powerful friends, and because Imaginary Gary was a part of Timmy Turner, Cosmo and Wanda were obligated by their contracts and Da Rules to grant the wishes he requested. Retiring them as godparents and assigning new ones to Timmy's case wouldn't help at all, because the same issue would arise. Aye yai yai… What a mess.

Plus, Binky didn't trust Imaginary Gary's weasel-y history. Sure, on the outside it may seem like the kid had gone straight, but Fool me twice, shame on me. Gary already had a black stain on his record for leaving Unwish Island's quarantine boundary and sneaking around Dimmsdale. Binky himself had been the one sent down to take him back. He'd watched this kid slip inside the Learn-a-Torium with his own eyes, and that had sent up red flags even before the disaster with Sanderson and H.P.… The Learn-a-Torium was a known hotspot of Pixie activity. The Pixies had their hooks in three or four of the humans employed there, and Binky for one had always had a hunch they were up to no good. Something about the way the Head Pixie loudly announced his reoccurring desire for 37-year plans to take over Fairy World just didn't make him look like the most trustworthy guy around.

(Well… Technically it was Mark the Yugopotamian who'd seen Gary "with his own eyes" and called in the report. Gary had dressed like a clown and Mark had worn a pixie disguise at the time, and Binky hadn't been able to muster the energy to ask either of them what the poof they were doing in cosplay. He'd been at the end of a long shift of triaging reports that day.)

He scribbled down another note: Consider adding a blocker on C and W's wands? Gary, Nega-Timmy, and Timantha: all suspect wish-jackers.

Whether it was Imaginary Gary's silver tongue or simply an inborn desire to assist, Super Bike agreed to carry him, Gary, and Nega-Timmy around the island. So… Binky wasn't about to protest. True, he could just as easily poof himself from room to room and get reimbursed for doing it as part of the job, but as long as everyone stayed amiable, it wouldn't hurt to let the bike take the lead. Maybe Super Bike knew a good route that would wind past every individual on the roll call list. That would definitely save a lot of headache.

"You'll have to walk," Super Bike said to Jorgen, gaping up at him, and Jorgen simply clutched James in his fist in response. James propped a hand on his cheek and otherwise didn't look too bothered at all.

"Hey, I'm game for this, doc. Always did want to ride an elephant one day. I'm quite happy to settle for the next best thing. Well… If you can call it 'best.'"

Of course, Binky quickly realized that beyond the hotel Timmy had created for his old wishes, Unwish Island didn't have much to offer. Old contraptions, clothes, and super suits had gotten mixed up with pool floaties and cleaning supplies around the sheds, but there were no wild landscapes here. A few ceramic lawn gnomes with hedge trimmers for arms darted around in the bushes. Binky even glimpsed a few squirrels. Several hives of rainbow bees clung to a few palm trees, but when he questioned why, no one had a straight answer for him.

"Some of these wishes get pretty scary, even for Timmy," he remarked to Jorgen anyway, scribbling notes on his clipboard. Super Bike had to roll carefully over grass and Jorgen was able to keep up well enough even without his usual jetpack. Goddard kept pace with them too, growling all the while. Binky cleared his throat, tapping one finger to the page before him. "He seems to wish up a lot of monsters… Should we be worried?"

"Hey hey, whoa whoa, hey," Gary protested, pricking up his ears. "You talkin' about me?"

Nega-Timmy sniffed and bundled his cloak more tightly around his front. He'd spent their whole ride trying to keep the wispy tentacles of the hem from getting yanked into Super Bike's wheels. "There is no reason we cannot be both monsters and beautiful… In the end, we are all nothing without our make-up."

"Always knew you were compensating for something," James threw down at him. Binky glanced up nervously, expecting Nega-Timmy to launch himself at the fudge-headed human (or… maybe croissant-headed if you wanted to be a little more accurate), but Nega-Timmy only laughed.

"You will see. You will all crumble one day, lost without your beauty, and I will sit and mock you from the throne of high society."

"I don't wear make-up, dweeb," deadpanned James.

"What?" That seemed to throw Nega-Timmy for a loop. He stood up, gripping Binky's arm to maintain his balance on Super Bike's back. He squinted at James and frowned. "But you are so beautiful? Your skin is porcelain and your cheeks hold a natural flush."

James scoffed. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, chicken wing."

"I do." Nega-Timmy removed his hat, holding it to his chest, and blinked up at James in mild awe. Maybe even respect. "Teach me your nightly face routine, for your scabs and blackheads are nowhere to be seen. You hold shooting stars among your brows and lashes. I wish to claw the skin from your face and frame it on my wall so all who visit my spa shall see what beauty this horrid society is capable of producing from its depths. I want the secrets of your dental plan."

James didn't seem to have a snappy comeback for that, going briefly cross-eyed in confusion. "Uh. It's called 'good genetics' and 'brushing after every meal,' buttercup. I may be evil, but at least I'm sanitary. I use mouthwash and a tongue scraper."

"Bark bark!"

"And I maybe throw in a little supersonic, autoclave-style bonus cleaning when I'm done. Sue me."

"Hm," said Jorgen, in response to Binky's Should we be worried about all these monsters? question. He prodded one of the glowing beehives with the end of his staff. "Cosmo and Wanda have an inspection coming up next week. I will bring this up to them then. Turner is getting older… It's not unusual, when puberty hits, for godchildren to make all sorts of abstract wishes that represent dark thoughts that plague their minds."

Binky glanced at his notes. How old was Timmy, again? Of all the things he'd prepped, he'd forgotten to write that down. Had he just turned 11? Or… 10?

As Jorgen walked past the next tree, James kicked his leg as hard as possible at one of the beehives. It cracked and plunged to the ground. Goddard barked and jumped about. While the evil genius guffawed, Jorgen swung his staff and poofed it back where it was meant to be. James looked shocked at that, right down to the hairs standing on ends along his arms.

"What the fudge?" he choked out, but without the 'fudge' censor on the end. Imaginary Gary and Nega-Timmy both gave him weird sideways looks.

I guess he was too busy with Jorgen to notice when I poofed up all the new clothes, Binky thought. He made a new note on his sheet: Keep a VERY close eye on genius evil clones. Especially those who didn't have a single friend or recognizable person in this universe they cared about. Yeah, this totally wasn't gonna end well. But James went silent after that, apparently a lot more wary of Jorgen than he had been before.

Their tour circled through the trees. They exchanged words with a few of Timmy's other unwished wishes, like Ben Franklin, Super Kitty (not Goddard's biggest fan), and the giant snake, before Super Bike brought them back to the rear of the hotel. The pool had only just come into view before them when Nega-Timmy let out a banshee screech: "AIIEEEEE!"

Binky jerked up his head. A large, hulking, porcelain… thing leaned over the pool, constricting a smiling Timmy clone with a long rope of toilet paper. Was the clone about to be punted straight into the shallow end? Just for the sport of it? He looked too happy-go-lucky to care, admiring a butterfly on the end of his finger.

Uh-oh. Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh. Binky's arms flushed with sweat. He ducked lower on Super Bike's back, wrapping his arms around his torso. He'd spent years hearing stories of that monster. They seemed to surface every Fairy Reunion when he sat anywhere near Cosmo (and he always did… because Jorgen took charge of the seating arrangements and - for reasons unknown to a befuddled Binky - he always claimed he considered Cosmo and Wanda to be among his closest friends).

S-Super Toilet…

Nega-Timmy's shriek morphed into a snarl. Like some sort of werewolf, he launched himself off Super Bike's back and bounded towards the massive porcelain throne. Binky glanced down at his wand, then lifted it in case the fanged child needed any back-up. But Gary placed his hand on Binky's chest, holding him back.

"It's cool, it's cool, dude… Let him have this."

"PUT HIM DOWN! PUT HIM DOWN!" Nega-Timmy sounded like he might hyperventilate. That was something humans did, right? Did that still apply to their Negaverse counterparts? Nega-Timmy latched on to Super Toilet's rear pipe and started gnawing at the metal with his fangs. The toilet paused, still clutching the Timmy clone in its paper tongue. Its water splooshed, and Nega-Timmy raised his head to snap, "Don't give me that sass! Clone 116 is off limits! Find someone else to bully with your ugly face!"

He went back to chomping on the pipe. The bites didn't seem to have much effect on the giant toilet, but the loud clinking noise his teeth made caused other heads in the area to turn. A few stray unwished wishes crept over to get a better look (Timantha, George Washington, and Thomas Jefferson among them). Giving up, Nega-Timmy crawled to the top of the toilet's bowl and made a flying leap at the toilet paper curling like a snake from its center. The Timmy clone, all of a sudden jerked away from the butterfly he'd been admiring, gasped in light dismay. He made a grab for it with his hand. Missed. Nega-Timmy hissed down at the sloshing toilet bowl, flickering his purple tongue.

"What have I told you about destroying my art?" Nega-Timmy jabbed one claw in the clone's direction. "Look upon him! A masterpiece of expert vanishing cream, blush, foundation, gloss, and eyeliner! You cannot simply waste such perfection in your silly games! Find a clone that I did not spend my entire morning beautifying!"

"Sploosh, sploosh!" Super Toilet snarled back. Next to Binky, Gary fell over laughing, clutching his stomach. Timantha and Thomas Jefferson started backing away, pulling the oblivious George Washington with them. James looked confused, Goddard barked, but Nega-Timmy's jaw dropped open.

"How can you even SAY that! He doesn't look anything LIKE Clone 99!"

"Oh, stop," gushed the Timmy clone, looking flattered with all the attention. He reached out and plucked a caterpillar from Super Toilet's tongue, smiling at it like he'd discovered the secrets of the universe written across its fuzzy exterior.

"Splurrrrsssh!"

Super Bike gasped. His hands flew to cover his ears. "Oh burn, oh man," Gary wheezed, now smacking his fist against the grass. His sunglasses had slipped down his nose, but he pushed them up again when he rolled over. He pressed his palms flat against his eyes. "Super Toilet, you rascal! You can't say that in front of little kids! Tone down the potty mouth… You and Jim-Jim are gonna land us a T rating."

"Don't call me that," muttered James, now having squirmed most of his body from Jorgen's fist. But Jorgen noticed that and simply closed his other hand around him (which Goddard did not love). While Gary continued laughing, Nega-Timmy wailed, and the other unwished wishes kept backing away, Binky and Jorgen exchanged a glance. Um. Should they interfere? Technically, using foul language in the presence of godkids wasn't against Da Rules, though ASPRA Agency preferred professionalism as much as possible. With the exception of a necessary hair genetics tweak to match his depiction in a child's fantasy - and a sex chromosome for Timantha - at least two of the wishes here were marker for marker copies of Timmy Turner's genes. Nega-Timmy was an otherworldly counterpart. Did they count as godkids? Maybe technically yes, since through Timmy, they both fell under Cosmo and Wanda's jurisdiction?

Actually, for that matter… Were Timmy's wished-up copies identical too? Uh. Yep. Definitely yep. If any of them voiced a wish, Cosmo and Wanda would be bound to grant it. With a sigh, Binky drew his clipboard and penned down another note: Suggest Jorgen propose amendment to Da Rules about godkid clones next Council meeting. If the Council refused, maybe he could at least force password protection on Cosmo and Wanda's wands.

Super Toilet decided it had had enough. It lashed its toilet paper tongue, flinging the Timmy clone into the bushes. Binky winced. Nega-Timmy yelped and sprang down after it. The toilet hobbled off with a few more grumpy sloshes, leaving Nega-Timmy to fuss over the innocent Timmy copy until he'd pulled off all the leaves and preened his scruffy hair back into a presentable state. The clone kept trying to wander off, following a ladybug that drifted by, and Nega-Timmy kept yanking him back around. Timantha trotted over to help and used a washcloth to rub a smear of blood (well… ink) from the clone's cheek. Okay. Binky glanced up between notes, trying to keep an eye on them, Gary, George Washington, and Super Toilet all at the same time. Washington stared at a coconut tree, fidgeting with the weapon in his hand. It was an inflatable axe, nothing like the metal one he used to carry, but his eye still began to twitch. Thomas Jefferson tickled him in the back of the head with his feather pen, then pulled him away by the collar towards the sea.

So many wild wishes here. How does Timmy ever come up with them all? Timmy was a creative one: that was for sure. He excelled in that sort of thing, and not every godkid did. Binky still remembered Juandissimo venting to him over a soda bottle one evening about how "predictable" and "tasteless" some of Remy's wishes had been, before his friend had broken down in ugly sobs over how much he missed his kid. They were back together now. Juandissimo had taken off from Fairy World, going so far as to break Da Rules to restore Remy's memories… Binky had mixed feelings on the whole matter, but it was the decision of the Fairy Council and Emery Ranen, not him. He just did the paperwork.

Then a sudden rapid tapping broke out on his shoulder. Binky twisted. Imaginary Gary, back on Super Bike now, pointed at the swimming pool. "Hey, hey! Game of Chicken, anyone? You can join my team, sparklepants. Aw, don't look so squirmy. I know I've got the squirrel teeth for it, but I don't bite."

"Oh! Um…"

"My team," Jorgen interrupted, sweeping Binky straight off Super Bike's back. He used the same hand that still clenched Jimmy Neutron's evil clone, squashing Binky right into him. Super Bike nearly toppled over- he pinwheeled his arms for balance. Binky squeaked, dropping his pencil. He vaporized his clipboard into dust. Just in time. Jorgen bashed his staff against the pavement and poofed every person in the nearby vicinity into swimwear. Even the founding fathers, Timantha (whose one-piece had now changed from mild pink to a hot pink), James, Goddard, Nega-Timmy, and the innocent Timmy clone. And, well… Super Bike. Never, Binky realized then, would he be able to unsee the things he'd just seen.

"NOOO!" Nega-Timmy whipped around, screeching death and slashing his claws. "You blind, thoughtless excuse for a fairy! Have you no EYES? No sense of style? What have you done to my impeccably sculpted beauty?"

His cloak had been ripped away. Turns out, he was a lot thinner and bonier underneath it than Binky would have guessed. Did the kid not eat? He now sported a poppy-red swim shirt to go with his purple swim trunks, but whined and writhed as though the sunlight out here burned him. Maybe it did, though Binky would totally have believed anyone who told him Nega-Timmy was only wailing with distress at being forced to wear an "out of season" shade of dark purple in the spring. Gary, who now wore a red speedo and carried a yellow towel around his neck, used his hands to wheel Super Bike off the grass and over the edge of the pool tiles. This made the bike's shadow fall on his "brother," and that at least seemed to curb the hissing demon's temper.

Should I do something? Binky wondered, gripping his wand, but it turned out that he didn't need to. A few seconds later, Nega-Timmy's hyperventilations slowed to soft huffs. His shoulders eased. His fists unclenched. He plopped on his butt and kicked his legs out in front of him. He stared blankly at his toes. He (or maybe Timantha, since she'd been the one looking for nail polish earlier) had painted them navy blue with little white skulls. Aw… He was kind of cute like that, in a spooky sort of way. You know what? Without the cloak and tall top hat, he almost looked human… if you could ignore the scraggly claws and tiny fangs. Binky almost forgot that Fairy World technically classified him as a demon.

"A game of Ch-Chicken sounds fun," Binky croaked out. He tried to pry Jorgen's finger away from his windpipe and not squish James's stomach with his feet. Ihh… Fairies might not need to breathe oxygen, but even a small amount of pressure on that part of his throat would instantly frazzle the lines connecting him to the energy field. He'd rather not have Jorgen squeeze and squeeze because he forgot who was in his hand. "Um… I get to be on top, r-right?"

"Of course! Your puny body could never support the weight of my manly biceps!"

"Works for me, chief," said James, looking more than a little happy to be dropped back on solid ground. He wore red swim trunks now with a yellow, flowery skull printed down one of the legs. Binky wouldn't miss him if he walked away. The smug clone had kept up a running commentary through the latter half of their walk, sassing just about everything they came across. Plus, you know… he'd kicked that beehive.

But to Binky's disappointment, James merely brushed off his swim trunks and glanced at Imaginary Gary. He hooked a thumb at the water. "This is just what the witch doctor ordered… Come on, Pauper Popular. I'll rough 'em up for ya and you can deal the finishing blow. Underdogs never lose. And I've got the worst dog there is."

Gary shrugged. He threw aside the towel on his neck and sat on the pool's edge. James scooped Goddard in his arms again. It took Binky a second or two to realize why the two kids were waiting to get into the pool (and why James had lifted his dog off the ground), but once it clicked, it couldn't have been more obvious.

Uh-oh!

"No, no, NO!" Nega-Timmy fussed, charging towards them with arms outstretched. Too late. Jorgen crashed into the water with Binky in his hands. A tidal wave cascaded over the edges of the pool, sloshing across the area and even lifting the nearby pool chairs. Gary snorted so hard he almost fell over, trying to block his face with his hands. James stayed steady, standing, holding a squirming Goddard as the water gurgled at his ankles. He smirked. Timantha's pool chair tipped her to the ground. Her coconut drink spilled on top of her. Super Bike whirred his wheels and zoomed off to park somewhere that wasn't so soaked. Binky coughed, soaked and dripping. Jorgen laughed. James set Goddard on a glass table and fed him some sort of treat from his hand. Nega-Timmy, eyeliner flushing down his cheeks, threw back his head.

"My ART! So fleeting… so thin… It burns! Good-bye, cruel depravity… I will miss the unfashionable least of all."

His despair was short-lived. A cackling James rushed towards him at full speed. SLAM went their bodies, and both toppled into the deep end of the pool. Binky learned a few new, censored curse words that day as Nega-Timmy (his foundation and blush washed off in patches) immediately started whacking James with his top hat. James held a worn-down boogie board between them, making a lame attempt to fend him off while nearly doubled over in guffaws the whole time.

"I'll KILL you! I shall rip you apart and tear you down and feast upon your insides like I embody every maggot in this world-"

"Whoa, gettin' too close with the teeth there, chief! I don't promise I shower, and if you get a mouthful of pit hair, I don't wanna hear the half of it."

"Bark bark! Bark! Bark bark bark!"

"Are you boys good?" Timantha called, picking up her spilled coconut drink. James gave her a thumbs up, still trying to push Nega-Timmy back. Imaginary Gary gave her one too, still sitting on the pool's edge and kicking his legs. Goddard trembled at the sight of the water, lashing his tail, and barked up a storm. But the funny thing? No one seemed to be too annoyed with him. They tolerated him like he was any other strange, wished-up member of the gang.

They're a good family, Binky thought, carefully positioning himself on Jorgen's shoulders. Sure, they may be a wild crowd, but at least they have each other.

The game of Chicken, to no one's surprise, favored Jorgen from the start. Even when he walked about the pool's bottom on his knees, and even when his muscles did nothing more than support Binky's weight, there wasn't much contest to be had. Binky knew he'd gained a reputation over the years for being one of - if not the - weakest fairy in all of Fairy World, but even the squishiest, frailest 529,000-year-old in the universe could probably push Imaginary Gary into the water. No offense to the kid, of course… It's just, well… He was five. Binky played nice and let the kid get a few good shoves on him, and everyone - he, Jorgen, the founding fathers, Timantha, James, and even Nega-Timmy and a few of the clones - laughed and had a good time. Binky didn't say a word about the way he threw a round to give Gary a chance at victory, and Gary didn't either.

After two hours of playing in the pool, Binky settled in on a pool chair next to a sleeping, mouth-foaming dingo with an umbrella for shade. Jorgen dumped a towel on his head and poofed away to pick up milkshakes. Nearby, Super Bike grilled hamburgers for meat-lovers to eat. It sizzled and steamed and smelled absolutely divine. Timantha hung onto his back, peering over his shoulder and occasionally asking how he knew they were ready yet or if he wanted her to look for any spices or secret sauce in her purse.

Phew… What a day. Binky dried his freckled arms and dripping wings. Should he poof up his clipboard now, or maybe put it off for later?

… Mm, he was still pretty wet. And if Jorgen was technically on break to get milkshakes, why work throughout his absence? This time to himself was nice. Really, really nice.

The fairy leaned back in his chair and tucked his arms behind his head. The chair's rubber slats felt weird and ripple-like against his wings. Unwished wishes quibbled in the pool like they were real, like they were people, and what a sight to behold. They bopped, splashed, and slapped at each other, but no one drew a blade, a ray gun, or really any weapon more violent than George Washington's inflatable axe. James bonked Nega-Timmy on the head with it and then hurled the thing across the pool, shouting for Gary to "keep it away from the fruitcake's fangs."

"I WILL EAT YOUR FAT CATERPILLAR LIPS!"

"Well, that's a little forward. At least let me buy you dinner first."

"I DO NOT WANT YOUR POISONED, PREFAB DINNER OF TRASH AND DISGUST! I WILL TIE YOUR DOG TO A JET-SKI AND DRAG HIM THROUGH THE OCEAN!"

"Yikes. However shall I live without that irritating scrap of battered tin?"

"BARK BARK!"

James swam over to the edge of the pool, reached up his hand, and made a show of smooching his robot mutt on its metal cheek. While Nega-Timmy fumed, James glanced back and asked, "What's the matter, sundrop? Jealous that you'd have to compete with another man in my life if you want your hands on alllll this?"

"YOU! YOU… ARE NOT INVITED TO AFTERNOON TEA!"

"Oh no. I despair. I now repent of every sin."

Binky smiled. What was it that Imaginary Gary had quipped the first time he'd ever paid a visit here? Something like "Here at Club 'We Hate Timmy,' we may hate Emperor Incisors, but we all love like family." That seemed about right. Instead of chasing the inflatable axe (which Gary now hugged against his chest), Nega-Timmy kicked his way across the pool and sunk his fangs viciously into James' arm. James bit him right back, right in the exposed shoulder. While he didn't have fangs, the act startled Nega-Timmy enough that he jerked away, clutching a hand to broken skin.

"OW!"

James licked his lips and tossed him a dopey grin. Nega-Timmy turned with a flounce and swam crossly to the shallow end of the pool. There he stayed, moping like a dead jellyfish in the water. James laughed and then hauled himself out via pool ladder, shouting something about scooping up some "bat wing sherbet, if anyone wants a bite." He slapped a high-five off Imaginary Gary, who then turned and bopped the nearest Timmy clone with the axe just because he found it funny. The clone stumbled, almost dropping the silver platter he held, and gave Gary a thumbs up and a grin. As James left, shaking water from his hair like a dog, Goddard ran after him and butted against his legs.

It was nice here on Unwish Island, actually… In a weird and dysfunctional sort of way. Binky watched everyone mill about the poolside until Jorgen appeared in another blast of dust. He waited for Binky to look up, then dropped the milkshake cup right at him. Binky flicked his wand up just in time to catch it before it could splatter its contents all over him. A strawberry, chocolate, and marshmallow blend… Oh, and a grilled cheese on sourdough on the side. Jorgen had always sneered at sourdough, but he knew his friend so well. Binky lowered his sunglasses and brought the thick straw to his lips.

Hmm. A whole week of remote working on a luscious island paradise… Now, wasn't that something? This should be fun!

Y'know, every now and then… It really paid to be Binky.

Thanks for reading!

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