THE HOUSEPETS™ CHRONICLES
Posted: Tue Dec 29, 2020 6:14 am
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HOUSEPETS OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS. THIS STORY FALLS UNDER FAIR USE, FOR THE PURPOSE OF COMMENTARY, CRITICISM, OR REVIEW. NEITHER DO I OWN VALERIO'S CHARACTERS; THIS STORY IS NOT A CONTINUATION OF HIS FIC, HPTS, NOR SHOULD IT MISTAKEN AS SUCH. IT IS IN NO WAY CANON OR RELATED OFFICIALY TO EITHER PROPERTIES. COMMENTS APPRECIATED.
THE HOUSEPETS™ CHRONICLES
PILOT: Don't Let It Break You
A certain Austrailan Shepherd was looking down on the town of Babylon Gardens, snuggling with his girlfriend. He was thinking about the weird events that led him to the town, the somewhat strange things that happened ONCE he got there, and how it all led up to this quiet moment on a clifftop.
That dog's name was Stanley Elliot Jackenell. This is his story.
Topeka, Kansas 2007
Stanley Elliot Jackenell wasn't having a good day by any means (unless you count getting an F in Obedience School... again as a good thing) but getting beaten up savagely by your owner wasn't exactly the most pleasant of things to happen to a Australian Shepard. This wasn't the first time he had been hit, but strangely, it hurt the worst. Maybe it being his birthday had something to do with it, who knows?
"Get on the ground, masthole!", laughed Steve, his owner as Stanley lay, helpless, while his "mother" Tara looked on, laughing like a dumb hick. In fact, she WAS a dumb hick, they lived in a trailer, ate mostly junk food, and watched cable all day anyway. Steve had just lost his seventh job in a row (it had been a busy week) and was, as usual, taking it out on Stan. He liked alternating between making Stan, Tara or his son miserable. Just enough sadness for everybody!
Stanley was hurting from his head, eyes, ears and elbows even as Steve punched him repeatedly. Stan curled up in a fetal position to curb the pain, but that actually made it hurt worse. Eventually, Stanley managed to fall asleep even as he was being beaten and awoke to find that his thumb was bent. It hurt just to even move. "This stings!", he thought to himself, as he rubbed his back, which was very sore. "Good morning", said Steve as he walked past, as if last night had never happened. Tara was smoking a cigar, looking joyful and went up to kiss her husband. "Gross", said Stanley, quietly as to not make them mad again.
"Hello, dimwit.", said Steve's son from a previous marriage, Demas, who flicked a piece of popcorn at Stan's nose. It hurt. It stung even!
Stanley had enough. He ran away. "Where are you going, you little nimrod?", called Steve as Stan ran towards the river near their farm in Kansas. Stan didn't care. Steve shot at him with his old, rusty rifle, but missed. Instead, he had shot his prize hog, Curly, by accident. "Come back here, pup!", cried Demas, but Stanley didn't care. He ran and ran and ran, until...
Babylon Gardens, River Ridge, Missouri. 2007.
"THANK GOD you're up. I almost thought you were dead. Are you alright, son?", said Dr. Stanwick as Stanley awoke. Stanley coughed, puking out a small piece of seaweed.
"Where am I?", said Stan. He was quite confused.
"Babylon Gardens Veterinary Hospital, of course.", said Dr. Stanwick with a weak smile. Stanley had heard of Babylon Gardens before; it was a middle class gated community in the city of River Ridge, with it's own church, vet, shelter and even an arcade. 50 years ago when it was founded, it was considered a special place where animals were given special rights reserved for human citizens, but after Congress passed The Animal Rights Act in 1999 it was wasn't as special as it used to be. Still, it was a nice neighborhood.
"Where did you find me?"
"Some motorist found you washed up from a pond on the side of a road!"
"Oh."
"Get some rest, son. You're gonna need it.", said Dr. Stanwick as he exited the room, turned off a light. Stan looked out the window, the moon light was pretty. The sun light was always prettier, to him at least. Stan said his prayer, the special prayer he had been taught by Father Jackenell, his owner before Steve and fell asleep, dreaming about fields of roses and daisies.
Stanley awoke to find a nurse standing by his bed, making notes. There was only one problem with this: she was a bobcat. A BIG bobcat.
"Oh, you're up!", she said kindly, seemingly not noticing Stanley's sweat soaked face and expression of utter terror.
"Who are you, and where is Dr. Stanwick?", asked Stanley, rather afraid of her imposing figure. However he worded his phrase nicely, to avoid making this beast of a woman mad.
"I'm Gale Milton. Dr. Stanwick is tending to other patients. I could get you a drink if you want."
"Okay, thank you.", said Stan. Anything to get her out of his room, even for a second.
While Gale went to the lobby to get him some water, Stan looked around him. His room was a spotless yellowish white color, with a nice, big window flanked with green curtains, and a small desk by his bed with a tiny TV set and a copy of the Holy Bible. The floor was a standard black and white checkered tile, and by his bed was a big blue rug. Despite being quite small, the room was actually larger than Steve's trailer, something that made Stan rather amused.
Gale returned with the water, and after having time to collect his thoughts, Stan realized that Gale was not someone to be afraid of, quite the opposite in fact, and they began to converse. After an hour, Gale left to attend to another patient, some kid named Bino Costner who was apparently a frequent visitor, and another nurse, this time a human named Joyce, tended to Stan. Joyce was less talkative and more stern than Gale was, but was still very kind.
Stan could stay in this hospital forever. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Stanley Freedman?", called Joyce. Freedman was Steve's last name; Stanley hated it and mostly used Jackenell, after the late Father Jackenell, his previous owner who was, needless to say, FAR kinder than Steve ever was. Unfortunately, as often happens, Jackenell was an old, old man and died rather suddenly in his sleep, forcing Animal Services to find Stan a new home; the home in question, sadly, was Steve's.
"Jackenell, if you please.", Stan yelled back. "No, Freedman", said a voice that made Stan feel sick at the sound of it; an unmistakeable voice that struck terror into all those all heard it, except for God himself. A voice that reeked of alcohol and savage blood. The voice of Stephen Dunsboro Freedman.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SANDWICH HOUSE, B.G, R.R., MSS. 2007
Peanut was sitting on the porch, playing on his Game Boy, as was usual. When suddenly, he felt something poke his leg.
"Ow!", cried out Peanut. "Sorry", replied a small voice beneath the porch steps. "Thank you", said Peanut, before he realized something odd. He called out: "GRAPE! SOMEONE'S UNDERNATH OUR PORCH!"
"Shoot!", cried out the voice, but it was too late. Grape Sandwich had grabbed the poor dog by the tail and dragged him out from undernath the porch. She had to admit, he was kinda cute, but boys who hide under stranger's porches aren't typically the most trustworthy of people.
"Who are you?", asked Grape, looking angry. Indeed she was. "I'm Stanley Free- er, Jackenell" (Stan had a habit of mixing up his names when he was upset) Grape let the dog down. "What are you doing here, Stanley?"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stanley explained his plight over a cup of hot cocoa, provided by an understanding Jill Sandwich. After Steve had come to claim Stan, Stan had run away and got his leg caught in a bear trap. After getting it mended by a girl named Jessica in the woods, it was dark out and so he slept under their porch.
JILL WAS THINKING TO HERSELF IN HER HEAD; THIS KID SEEMS NICE, BUT I'M NOT SURE I CAN BELIEVE HIM. SOMETHING ABOUT HIS STORY SEEMS OFF TO ME.
Jill grabbed the phone. But, to Stanley's horror, she had called Steve. "Mr. Freedman, we have your dog here." Peanut and Grape looked at each other with horror; their own mother did not believe Stan's story, and was calling Steve, who would most likely KILL poor Stan! They had to do something!
And with their help, Stan escaped again.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan ran, ran as fast he could but had zero clue where he was going. All he knew was that A. he was running from Animal Control through the woods and that B. no matter how tempting it seemed, trust nobody. He couldn't risk getting sent back to the utter hellhole that was the household of Steve Freedman. To be honest, even a torture dungeon run by alien clowns would be Heaven on Earth compared to Steve's rusted old trailer of a thousand horrors.
And then Stan tripped.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan awoke in a white, pristine room. He realized quickly it is was Dr. Stanwick's hospital.
"Crud", sighed Stan. He knew what was going to happen: he would get sent back to Steve's house, and the cycle of abuse would start all over again...
"Hello, Stan.", said an unfamiliar voice. "Who are you?", said Stan, too tired to be concerned by the man sitting in a chair in the corner. "I'm Mr. London, your court appointed lawyer. A certain Mr. and Miss Sandwich have filed a suit against your previous owner Mr. Freedman, who has been put on trial for animal abuse. You are now in the custody of Miles the Wolf until Freedman is released from prison."
Stan felt like he could jump for joy. Even if the arrangement was temporary, at least Freedman's reign of terror over him was delayed until God knows when. Stan thanked Mr. London and walked outside.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan went outside. He was given a slip of paper by Mr. London, with Mile's address written on it in faded greenish ink. Stan looked around, only to realize...
"I'm lost."
"Maybe I can help you!", said a friendly, sweet, sweet voice. Stan looked behind him. "Hello!", said a happy looking female German Shepard. "I'm Sasha Hartford! I'll help you find your way!" She sounded ditzy, but Stan really had no one else to help him, so he followed her.
In a manner of minutes, he was at the Wolf House. He went inside, and was welcomed by a single corgi. "Where's everyone else?", asked Stan. "Miles, Poncho, Nat, Jack and the Daryls are at work. Rod and his family are on a holiday. The cubs are at school. Luc's gone shopping, and Deadeye is alseep. Here, let me take your bag..."
"No thanks", replied Stan. It was his special bag, in which he carried Father Jackenell's poems. They were the only thing he kept from his days living with the Father, and they were very dear to him. King nodded, and showed Stan to his room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan awoke to the sound of a large BANG! He looked around, and saw one of the cubs (he assumed) wearing a lab coat with ash all over his face and covered on green goo. Stan realized, that with the rather small size of this house, he must share a room with this kid.
"Hello?", Stan asked. The cub awoke, as if from a trance. "Oh, hi.", he simply stated. "He's creepy.", thought Stan in his head. The cub's name was North Star. Stan went back to sleep...
Stan awoke the next morning sore in his back. No doubt he had slept funny last night and was going to pay the price.
He took a quick shower and looked around. Most of the Wolf Family was still asleep. He took out a glass of milk when suddenly...
"Hi, Stan." He turned around to see Elaine, one of the wolves and Jack's wife, staring at him, reading a magazine. She reminded him a bit of Tara, only covered in fur and not quite as wicked. Stan chuckled a bit nervously before running back to his room, waiting for at least an hour before he went back out again.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan was walking to the library. He was told he could meet some friends there by Miles. He highly doubted this but he had no where else to go. He saw Peanut and Grape playing some D&D rip off called Universes and Unrealites with some dog named Joey and his brother Fido.
"Hi, Peanut and Grape.", said Stan as he sat down. He knew you can't be exactly dealed into a match of U&U but nevertheless liked watching them play.
Spo, a little mouse sitting on Fido's head who is quick to remarks, commented on a scar over Stan's nose. Fido shut Spo up with his paw but to be honest Stan thought it was funny.
"Got this one" (Stan pointed to a small mark on his leg) "when my owner pushed me into the stove as a puppy!" Stan chuckled a bit. Nobody was laughing; in fact they looked horrified. Stan decided to leave, but not before checking out a copy of a book called "Selah".
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SCENE - WOLF HOUSE, Int.
After a wonderful stake dinner with the Wolves (even if it seemed oddly kind of raw) Stan went up to bed. He began to read from his book, while North Star was busy trying to tinker with the chemistry set Miles had bought him with predictable results.
Blessed are my brothers who are peresecuted, for they look after the sacred sheep, and the keepers of the law. Blessed is he who cares for his animal, for he is righteous. May God hear my cries of blood, and smite my enemies with no mercy, until they find the truth.
Stan kept these words, from his book, in his mind and heart as he drifted asleep that night.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan walked outside early the next morning, dressed in a scarf. It was only around 7:30. He looked around him. It was snowing. Beautiful, he thought. His inner thoughts were cut off when a snowball hit him right in the kisser. "Oof!", he cried as he fell down to the ground. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?", asked a female black Labrador Retriever with stocky arms above him. He had to admit, she was rather pretty. "Yeah, I've felt worse pain.", he said, rubbing his face. He got up and faced her; he was quite a bit taller than her. "Who are you?", he asked nicely. She chuckled. "Hi, I'm Daisy." "Pleasure to meet you, Daisy!", he held out his hand and shook hers. He then went off on his merry way, humming a tune. Daisy sighed, then returned to helping her brother Rex build a snowdog.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Merry Christmas, Stanley!", said Lucretia as she handed him a gift. "But it's not Christmas..." "It's almost Christmas, though.", she replied back, sternly. He opened the gift. It was a Nintendo DS. He hugged her. "Thank you, Lucretia.", Stanley said. "You can call me mom if you want.", she replied. Stan had never had a loving family before; he never even called Steve or Tara mom and dad.... the only man he would call "father" was...
"Father Jackenell."
"What, Stan?", asked Lucretia.
"Nothing at all.", Stan said, weakly.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
After dinner, Stanley went up to bed. He always went to bed before anyone else; he also woke up before anyone else. It was just his thing.
Stan prayed over his Bible, kissed his cross and went to sleep. Suddenly, he had a terrible nightmare, where a wicked devil with Steve's face tried him before monsturous dogs in Hades before casting him into a pit of boiling raw steak. Stan awoke, sweating, and saw Miles and Luc by the door. "Dear, Mr. London called. The court ordered that you have to return to the Freedmans."
"What's going on, mom?", asked DeeVee, the youngest of the Wolf Cubs, to Luc and Miles, who were looking quite depressed; Luc was sitting in the corner, while Miles was pacing the kitchen, smoking catnip. Miles had never smoked before. "Oh, Stan had to leave, honey.", said Lucretia. "Oh." DeeVee went up the stairs back to his room. "Is he coming back?" "Maybe.", replied Miles. "Maybe."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"This can't be true!", cried out Stanley as Mr. London looked, concerned. "I'm afraid that it is, Stanley.", he said in a depressed voice. Steve grinned like a menace at Stanley; the court had found insufficient evidence in favor of Steve abusing Stan, and ordered Stan to return with the Freedmans. Tara whispered in Stan's ear, faux sweetly: "When you come home, I'm gonna make you wish you were never born."
As they loaded a resistant Stan into the Freedman car, Mr. London returned, waving a waiver. "Wait!", he cried out, looking joyful almost. "The waiver said you can't take him back yet. He still has a week to gather evidence for his case!"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SCENE - COURTROOM, Int.
It was the day of the trial. A week prior, Stan had gone through a grueling, cruel look through files, paperwork, and library and state records from the court. Thankfully, Joey and Dallas and volunteered to help him sort the info out.
After about an hour of preperation, Stan walked up to the stand. In the jury was...
MRS. McGILLICUDDY, age 73
RYAN BYRON, age 37
JEFF BYRON, age 47
KAREN WARD, age 48
DR. STANWICK, age 38
and TED BEAUREGARDE , age 59
The defendant? Steve and Tara Freedman.
The prosecutor? Mr. London.
The judge? Maria Felton, PHD.
In attendance were the Sandwich Family, Joey, Dallas, Fido, Sabrina, Demas, the Wolf Pack and Keene Milton.
The judge slammed the gavel. The trail began.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
After at least two hours of Stan bleeding his heart out on the stand, Tara was called up.
"I'm an innocent woman! I would never hurt an animal!"
"You let your husband hurt an animal!", cried out Stan, but Grape shooshed him up.
Next, Demas was called up.
"My dad's a great man. He would never do any of the things this mutt, er, the defendant is accusing him of."
Next was Steve himself.
....
He cleared his throat.
"I admit, I'm a bit of a drunkard, but I would NEVER, not in this life or the next, hurt an animal. Never. Never, never, never, never, NEVER!"
"Appealing to emotion much?", snarked Mr. London, but the judge shut him up with a straight, icey death glare.
Steve looked like he was gonna cry, though he was probably just sweating badly. "Please, Judge. I-i would never hurt Stanley. I love him. We've had our disagreements, but we're still family." He had the audacity to turn to Stan, a pleading look in his eyes, though it was less a 'please forgive me' and more of a 'help me out and I'll make your next beating hurt slightly less'. "Right, Stanley?"
Stan pondered this for a moment. Then he said...
"You're not my family. Never have been. Never will be."
Steve looked enraged. He grabbed at Stanley: "YOU LITTLE SH-"
THEN HE NOTICED EVERYONE IN THE ROOM STARING AT HIM (Including the Judge!), THEIR MOUTHS AGAPE!
The judge slammed the gavel again.
"The verdict is GUILTY", said the Judge. "Gulp", said Steve, as cops took him to a cell. "You can't do this! I'm an innocent ma-", but his words were cut off as Officer Bill shut him up. Stan looked around, happy that he was finally free from the abuse of his "parents". He could hear Demas and Tara screaming bloody murder and crying in the background as he walked outside; he didn't care. He could also hear the radio.
Soul Holiday, Soul Holidayyyyyy...
Stan walked home with the wolves. He walked past the Church of St. Anthony Abbot. He looked upon the stained glass window of the Hebrews walking free from Egypt, to their real home in Israel.
That what he was. Free.
And he was going home.
FIN.
CHANGE LOG: Edited the ages of the jury; edited several of Gale's lines; fixed the italics on Steve's dialog during the trial; shortened the Selah except during Stan's reading time; deleted the introduction; added in extra scenes between Stan and the Wolf Pack; changed Daisy's part; swapped Grape for Peanut and vice versa in several scenes; edited out Mile's inner monologue; edited out all instances of God's name being used as an exclaimation.
THE HOUSEPETS™ CHRONICLES
PILOT: Don't Let It Break You
A certain Austrailan Shepherd was looking down on the town of Babylon Gardens, snuggling with his girlfriend. He was thinking about the weird events that led him to the town, the somewhat strange things that happened ONCE he got there, and how it all led up to this quiet moment on a clifftop.
That dog's name was Stanley Elliot Jackenell. This is his story.
Topeka, Kansas 2007
Stanley Elliot Jackenell wasn't having a good day by any means (unless you count getting an F in Obedience School... again as a good thing) but getting beaten up savagely by your owner wasn't exactly the most pleasant of things to happen to a Australian Shepard. This wasn't the first time he had been hit, but strangely, it hurt the worst. Maybe it being his birthday had something to do with it, who knows?
"Get on the ground, masthole!", laughed Steve, his owner as Stanley lay, helpless, while his "mother" Tara looked on, laughing like a dumb hick. In fact, she WAS a dumb hick, they lived in a trailer, ate mostly junk food, and watched cable all day anyway. Steve had just lost his seventh job in a row (it had been a busy week) and was, as usual, taking it out on Stan. He liked alternating between making Stan, Tara or his son miserable. Just enough sadness for everybody!
Stanley was hurting from his head, eyes, ears and elbows even as Steve punched him repeatedly. Stan curled up in a fetal position to curb the pain, but that actually made it hurt worse. Eventually, Stanley managed to fall asleep even as he was being beaten and awoke to find that his thumb was bent. It hurt just to even move. "This stings!", he thought to himself, as he rubbed his back, which was very sore. "Good morning", said Steve as he walked past, as if last night had never happened. Tara was smoking a cigar, looking joyful and went up to kiss her husband. "Gross", said Stanley, quietly as to not make them mad again.
"Hello, dimwit.", said Steve's son from a previous marriage, Demas, who flicked a piece of popcorn at Stan's nose. It hurt. It stung even!
Stanley had enough. He ran away. "Where are you going, you little nimrod?", called Steve as Stan ran towards the river near their farm in Kansas. Stan didn't care. Steve shot at him with his old, rusty rifle, but missed. Instead, he had shot his prize hog, Curly, by accident. "Come back here, pup!", cried Demas, but Stanley didn't care. He ran and ran and ran, until...
Babylon Gardens, River Ridge, Missouri. 2007.
"THANK GOD you're up. I almost thought you were dead. Are you alright, son?", said Dr. Stanwick as Stanley awoke. Stanley coughed, puking out a small piece of seaweed.
"Where am I?", said Stan. He was quite confused.
"Babylon Gardens Veterinary Hospital, of course.", said Dr. Stanwick with a weak smile. Stanley had heard of Babylon Gardens before; it was a middle class gated community in the city of River Ridge, with it's own church, vet, shelter and even an arcade. 50 years ago when it was founded, it was considered a special place where animals were given special rights reserved for human citizens, but after Congress passed The Animal Rights Act in 1999 it was wasn't as special as it used to be. Still, it was a nice neighborhood.
"Where did you find me?"
"Some motorist found you washed up from a pond on the side of a road!"
"Oh."
"Get some rest, son. You're gonna need it.", said Dr. Stanwick as he exited the room, turned off a light. Stan looked out the window, the moon light was pretty. The sun light was always prettier, to him at least. Stan said his prayer, the special prayer he had been taught by Father Jackenell, his owner before Steve and fell asleep, dreaming about fields of roses and daisies.
Stanley awoke to find a nurse standing by his bed, making notes. There was only one problem with this: she was a bobcat. A BIG bobcat.
"Oh, you're up!", she said kindly, seemingly not noticing Stanley's sweat soaked face and expression of utter terror.
"Who are you, and where is Dr. Stanwick?", asked Stanley, rather afraid of her imposing figure. However he worded his phrase nicely, to avoid making this beast of a woman mad.
"I'm Gale Milton. Dr. Stanwick is tending to other patients. I could get you a drink if you want."
"Okay, thank you.", said Stan. Anything to get her out of his room, even for a second.
While Gale went to the lobby to get him some water, Stan looked around him. His room was a spotless yellowish white color, with a nice, big window flanked with green curtains, and a small desk by his bed with a tiny TV set and a copy of the Holy Bible. The floor was a standard black and white checkered tile, and by his bed was a big blue rug. Despite being quite small, the room was actually larger than Steve's trailer, something that made Stan rather amused.
Gale returned with the water, and after having time to collect his thoughts, Stan realized that Gale was not someone to be afraid of, quite the opposite in fact, and they began to converse. After an hour, Gale left to attend to another patient, some kid named Bino Costner who was apparently a frequent visitor, and another nurse, this time a human named Joyce, tended to Stan. Joyce was less talkative and more stern than Gale was, but was still very kind.
Stan could stay in this hospital forever. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Stanley Freedman?", called Joyce. Freedman was Steve's last name; Stanley hated it and mostly used Jackenell, after the late Father Jackenell, his previous owner who was, needless to say, FAR kinder than Steve ever was. Unfortunately, as often happens, Jackenell was an old, old man and died rather suddenly in his sleep, forcing Animal Services to find Stan a new home; the home in question, sadly, was Steve's.
"Jackenell, if you please.", Stan yelled back. "No, Freedman", said a voice that made Stan feel sick at the sound of it; an unmistakeable voice that struck terror into all those all heard it, except for God himself. A voice that reeked of alcohol and savage blood. The voice of Stephen Dunsboro Freedman.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SANDWICH HOUSE, B.G, R.R., MSS. 2007
Peanut was sitting on the porch, playing on his Game Boy, as was usual. When suddenly, he felt something poke his leg.
"Ow!", cried out Peanut. "Sorry", replied a small voice beneath the porch steps. "Thank you", said Peanut, before he realized something odd. He called out: "GRAPE! SOMEONE'S UNDERNATH OUR PORCH!"
"Shoot!", cried out the voice, but it was too late. Grape Sandwich had grabbed the poor dog by the tail and dragged him out from undernath the porch. She had to admit, he was kinda cute, but boys who hide under stranger's porches aren't typically the most trustworthy of people.
"Who are you?", asked Grape, looking angry. Indeed she was. "I'm Stanley Free- er, Jackenell" (Stan had a habit of mixing up his names when he was upset) Grape let the dog down. "What are you doing here, Stanley?"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stanley explained his plight over a cup of hot cocoa, provided by an understanding Jill Sandwich. After Steve had come to claim Stan, Stan had run away and got his leg caught in a bear trap. After getting it mended by a girl named Jessica in the woods, it was dark out and so he slept under their porch.
JILL WAS THINKING TO HERSELF IN HER HEAD; THIS KID SEEMS NICE, BUT I'M NOT SURE I CAN BELIEVE HIM. SOMETHING ABOUT HIS STORY SEEMS OFF TO ME.
Jill grabbed the phone. But, to Stanley's horror, she had called Steve. "Mr. Freedman, we have your dog here." Peanut and Grape looked at each other with horror; their own mother did not believe Stan's story, and was calling Steve, who would most likely KILL poor Stan! They had to do something!
And with their help, Stan escaped again.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan ran, ran as fast he could but had zero clue where he was going. All he knew was that A. he was running from Animal Control through the woods and that B. no matter how tempting it seemed, trust nobody. He couldn't risk getting sent back to the utter hellhole that was the household of Steve Freedman. To be honest, even a torture dungeon run by alien clowns would be Heaven on Earth compared to Steve's rusted old trailer of a thousand horrors.
And then Stan tripped.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan awoke in a white, pristine room. He realized quickly it is was Dr. Stanwick's hospital.
"Crud", sighed Stan. He knew what was going to happen: he would get sent back to Steve's house, and the cycle of abuse would start all over again...
"Hello, Stan.", said an unfamiliar voice. "Who are you?", said Stan, too tired to be concerned by the man sitting in a chair in the corner. "I'm Mr. London, your court appointed lawyer. A certain Mr. and Miss Sandwich have filed a suit against your previous owner Mr. Freedman, who has been put on trial for animal abuse. You are now in the custody of Miles the Wolf until Freedman is released from prison."
Stan felt like he could jump for joy. Even if the arrangement was temporary, at least Freedman's reign of terror over him was delayed until God knows when. Stan thanked Mr. London and walked outside.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan went outside. He was given a slip of paper by Mr. London, with Mile's address written on it in faded greenish ink. Stan looked around, only to realize...
"I'm lost."
"Maybe I can help you!", said a friendly, sweet, sweet voice. Stan looked behind him. "Hello!", said a happy looking female German Shepard. "I'm Sasha Hartford! I'll help you find your way!" She sounded ditzy, but Stan really had no one else to help him, so he followed her.
In a manner of minutes, he was at the Wolf House. He went inside, and was welcomed by a single corgi. "Where's everyone else?", asked Stan. "Miles, Poncho, Nat, Jack and the Daryls are at work. Rod and his family are on a holiday. The cubs are at school. Luc's gone shopping, and Deadeye is alseep. Here, let me take your bag..."
"No thanks", replied Stan. It was his special bag, in which he carried Father Jackenell's poems. They were the only thing he kept from his days living with the Father, and they were very dear to him. King nodded, and showed Stan to his room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan awoke to the sound of a large BANG! He looked around, and saw one of the cubs (he assumed) wearing a lab coat with ash all over his face and covered on green goo. Stan realized, that with the rather small size of this house, he must share a room with this kid.
"Hello?", Stan asked. The cub awoke, as if from a trance. "Oh, hi.", he simply stated. "He's creepy.", thought Stan in his head. The cub's name was North Star. Stan went back to sleep...
Stan awoke the next morning sore in his back. No doubt he had slept funny last night and was going to pay the price.
He took a quick shower and looked around. Most of the Wolf Family was still asleep. He took out a glass of milk when suddenly...
"Hi, Stan." He turned around to see Elaine, one of the wolves and Jack's wife, staring at him, reading a magazine. She reminded him a bit of Tara, only covered in fur and not quite as wicked. Stan chuckled a bit nervously before running back to his room, waiting for at least an hour before he went back out again.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Stan was walking to the library. He was told he could meet some friends there by Miles. He highly doubted this but he had no where else to go. He saw Peanut and Grape playing some D&D rip off called Universes and Unrealites with some dog named Joey and his brother Fido.
"Hi, Peanut and Grape.", said Stan as he sat down. He knew you can't be exactly dealed into a match of U&U but nevertheless liked watching them play.
Spo, a little mouse sitting on Fido's head who is quick to remarks, commented on a scar over Stan's nose. Fido shut Spo up with his paw but to be honest Stan thought it was funny.
"Got this one" (Stan pointed to a small mark on his leg) "when my owner pushed me into the stove as a puppy!" Stan chuckled a bit. Nobody was laughing; in fact they looked horrified. Stan decided to leave, but not before checking out a copy of a book called "Selah".
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SCENE - WOLF HOUSE, Int.
After a wonderful stake dinner with the Wolves (even if it seemed oddly kind of raw) Stan went up to bed. He began to read from his book, while North Star was busy trying to tinker with the chemistry set Miles had bought him with predictable results.
Blessed are my brothers who are peresecuted, for they look after the sacred sheep, and the keepers of the law. Blessed is he who cares for his animal, for he is righteous. May God hear my cries of blood, and smite my enemies with no mercy, until they find the truth.
Stan kept these words, from his book, in his mind and heart as he drifted asleep that night.
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Stan walked outside early the next morning, dressed in a scarf. It was only around 7:30. He looked around him. It was snowing. Beautiful, he thought. His inner thoughts were cut off when a snowball hit him right in the kisser. "Oof!", he cried as he fell down to the ground. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?", asked a female black Labrador Retriever with stocky arms above him. He had to admit, she was rather pretty. "Yeah, I've felt worse pain.", he said, rubbing his face. He got up and faced her; he was quite a bit taller than her. "Who are you?", he asked nicely. She chuckled. "Hi, I'm Daisy." "Pleasure to meet you, Daisy!", he held out his hand and shook hers. He then went off on his merry way, humming a tune. Daisy sighed, then returned to helping her brother Rex build a snowdog.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Merry Christmas, Stanley!", said Lucretia as she handed him a gift. "But it's not Christmas..." "It's almost Christmas, though.", she replied back, sternly. He opened the gift. It was a Nintendo DS. He hugged her. "Thank you, Lucretia.", Stanley said. "You can call me mom if you want.", she replied. Stan had never had a loving family before; he never even called Steve or Tara mom and dad.... the only man he would call "father" was...
"Father Jackenell."
"What, Stan?", asked Lucretia.
"Nothing at all.", Stan said, weakly.
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After dinner, Stanley went up to bed. He always went to bed before anyone else; he also woke up before anyone else. It was just his thing.
Stan prayed over his Bible, kissed his cross and went to sleep. Suddenly, he had a terrible nightmare, where a wicked devil with Steve's face tried him before monsturous dogs in Hades before casting him into a pit of boiling raw steak. Stan awoke, sweating, and saw Miles and Luc by the door. "Dear, Mr. London called. The court ordered that you have to return to the Freedmans."
"What's going on, mom?", asked DeeVee, the youngest of the Wolf Cubs, to Luc and Miles, who were looking quite depressed; Luc was sitting in the corner, while Miles was pacing the kitchen, smoking catnip. Miles had never smoked before. "Oh, Stan had to leave, honey.", said Lucretia. "Oh." DeeVee went up the stairs back to his room. "Is he coming back?" "Maybe.", replied Miles. "Maybe."
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"This can't be true!", cried out Stanley as Mr. London looked, concerned. "I'm afraid that it is, Stanley.", he said in a depressed voice. Steve grinned like a menace at Stanley; the court had found insufficient evidence in favor of Steve abusing Stan, and ordered Stan to return with the Freedmans. Tara whispered in Stan's ear, faux sweetly: "When you come home, I'm gonna make you wish you were never born."
As they loaded a resistant Stan into the Freedman car, Mr. London returned, waving a waiver. "Wait!", he cried out, looking joyful almost. "The waiver said you can't take him back yet. He still has a week to gather evidence for his case!"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SCENE - COURTROOM, Int.
It was the day of the trial. A week prior, Stan had gone through a grueling, cruel look through files, paperwork, and library and state records from the court. Thankfully, Joey and Dallas and volunteered to help him sort the info out.
After about an hour of preperation, Stan walked up to the stand. In the jury was...
MRS. McGILLICUDDY, age 73
RYAN BYRON, age 37
JEFF BYRON, age 47
KAREN WARD, age 48
DR. STANWICK, age 38
and TED BEAUREGARDE , age 59
The defendant? Steve and Tara Freedman.
The prosecutor? Mr. London.
The judge? Maria Felton, PHD.
In attendance were the Sandwich Family, Joey, Dallas, Fido, Sabrina, Demas, the Wolf Pack and Keene Milton.
The judge slammed the gavel. The trail began.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
After at least two hours of Stan bleeding his heart out on the stand, Tara was called up.
"I'm an innocent woman! I would never hurt an animal!"
"You let your husband hurt an animal!", cried out Stan, but Grape shooshed him up.
Next, Demas was called up.
"My dad's a great man. He would never do any of the things this mutt, er, the defendant is accusing him of."
Next was Steve himself.
....
He cleared his throat.
"I admit, I'm a bit of a drunkard, but I would NEVER, not in this life or the next, hurt an animal. Never. Never, never, never, never, NEVER!"
"Appealing to emotion much?", snarked Mr. London, but the judge shut him up with a straight, icey death glare.
Steve looked like he was gonna cry, though he was probably just sweating badly. "Please, Judge. I-i would never hurt Stanley. I love him. We've had our disagreements, but we're still family." He had the audacity to turn to Stan, a pleading look in his eyes, though it was less a 'please forgive me' and more of a 'help me out and I'll make your next beating hurt slightly less'. "Right, Stanley?"
Stan pondered this for a moment. Then he said...
"You're not my family. Never have been. Never will be."
Steve looked enraged. He grabbed at Stanley: "YOU LITTLE SH-"
THEN HE NOTICED EVERYONE IN THE ROOM STARING AT HIM (Including the Judge!), THEIR MOUTHS AGAPE!
The judge slammed the gavel again.
"The verdict is GUILTY", said the Judge. "Gulp", said Steve, as cops took him to a cell. "You can't do this! I'm an innocent ma-", but his words were cut off as Officer Bill shut him up. Stan looked around, happy that he was finally free from the abuse of his "parents". He could hear Demas and Tara screaming bloody murder and crying in the background as he walked outside; he didn't care. He could also hear the radio.
Soul Holiday, Soul Holidayyyyyy...
Stan walked home with the wolves. He walked past the Church of St. Anthony Abbot. He looked upon the stained glass window of the Hebrews walking free from Egypt, to their real home in Israel.
That what he was. Free.
And he was going home.
FIN.
CHANGE LOG: Edited the ages of the jury; edited several of Gale's lines; fixed the italics on Steve's dialog during the trial; shortened the Selah except during Stan's reading time; deleted the introduction; added in extra scenes between Stan and the Wolf Pack; changed Daisy's part; swapped Grape for Peanut and vice versa in several scenes; edited out Mile's inner monologue; edited out all instances of God's name being used as an exclaimation.