A/N: First off, I just wanna say, Johnny Worthington is my absolute favorite character. :) We need more stories of him that don't involve slash. I know I have another Monsters story in progress, but this idea popped up in my head and I'm seeing where I can head with it. If you don't like it, then just do what I do when I come across a fanfic I don't like: ignore it and go away. To everyone else: hope you like it :D

Crisis In A Can

"The child's getting older," said a much-older monster sitting in a lofty office. He had shark-like teeth and many tentacles for legs. A dour expression donned his bestial features.

"Great screamer, though," Worthington said coolly, leaning against the door-frame of his boss's office. "She's been my best customer for years. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was doing it intentionally."

The older monster sat hunched at his desk and grunted, shaking his head. "It's too risky. Something doesn't smell right about it." He gazed at the picture of the now-ten-year-old girl, "best customer" of Johnny Worthington.
"Ten years old?" he murmured doubtfully. "We usually shred a child's door by seven years of age, at the latest."

Johnny shrugged a shoulder. "Key word being 'usually.' Some kids are easier to scare than others, even well into their years."

"Perhaps…" he mumbled, and shuffled the child's file back in its proper place. "We'll need to keep an eye on this one. If she catches on that our world lies on the other side of her door…"

"I don't think there's anything to fear, sir," Johnny said cooly. "She can open that door as many times as she wants, but unless its hooked up, she won't find a thing."

The CEO nodded assent, seemingly content with the matter, for the moment. "Very well. Lets milk this thing for as long as we can. If what you say is true and she is indeed your 'best customer'...I suppose it would be a shame to lose all of that energy…"

Johnny donned his trademark grin. "Don't forget that a human's voice emits more power with age." He eased himself from the doorframe and stood behind the desk. "I remember when I first started scaring this one. I'll never forget the look on her face when she saw me," he chuckled. "Oh she was terrified, but I recall having trouble filling the canister." His expression darkened, as if it was something he preferred not to remember. "I thought she'd be a dead door in no time. Turns out I was wrong."

The older monster heaved himself out of the chair and faced his top Scarer. "Son, I want you to do me a favor. From now on when you go to visit this child, keep a keen eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Mark her facial expression and body language when she screams. Be observant. If you have any suspicions at all, I want to know about it."

Johnny nodded. "Consider it done, Mr. Cobswell."

Cobswell slapped him approvingly on the back. "Shall we commence?"

They headed out of the office, and Johnny Worthington, top Scarer at Fear Co., proceeded to start a long days' work.

It had been a tough shift, and Johnny was ready to call it a day by the time he punched out. He was the last one on the floor that evening. Everyone else was headed for home, and the lights began to shut off on the scare floor. A room that had previously been filled with so much light and sound was now as silent as the grave, as if it too were ready for a good night's rest.

Johnny dragged his feet as he exited the building and made for the parking lot. Tossing his duffel bag into the back seat, he slumped over the steering wheel and started the car. The streets were emptier that night than usual. There were a lot of monsters who were nocturnal, and thus their primary hours of operation were during the wee hours of the night. But as it was Monday night, even the nightcrawlers retired earlier than usual (more jobs in Monstropolis required diurnal workers, so even nocturnal monsters had to get used to retiring early for the sake of their schedule.)

When Johnny arrived home, he tossed his bag aside, threw off his jacket, and immediately headed to bed. He usually had a snack the moment he got home from work, but he had remained at the company longer than expected that night; sleep was looking a lot better than a snack. Tired as he was, his mind hopped from one thing to the next as he tried to relax enough to fall to sleep. He thought of all the scaring he had accomplished during the day. His mind flitted over some of the faces of the kids he had encountered, thought of all the things he had to get done on his next day off, mulled over Mr. Cobswell's instructions, reminded himself to return his mother's phone call, find time to take his car into the shop...water the weeds...

Next thing he knew, he was waking up to the alarm clock ringing in his ear. He impatiently shut if off and made to get ready for work. He expected Mr. Cobswell to debrief him on their "problem child" (as the boss was now referring to her), because Johnny was expecting to pay the kid a visit today. He only visited that particular girl about once a month, if that. It wasn't standard procedure to visit any single child too often, for fear of them being desensitized to the monster who visited them, regardless of how fearsome that monster was. Some human children recovered from their fears remarkably fast, and others, even more interestingly, tended to show no sign of fear at all. It was one of the many challenges of being a Scarer; you could be the scariest monster in the world, but if the kid didn't cooperate...well, it resulted in their door being sent to the shredder.

Johnny greeted the usual gaggle of acquaintances he was on friendly terms with. He was, needless to say, one of the more popular figures at the factory, and not least of all among the female employees.

"Worthington," a deep voice called behind him.

"Mr. Cobswell," he greeted.

"Today's the day. I have a checklist I want you to look over concerning your 'pride and joy.'" He meant the 10-year-old girl.

He chuckled. He seriously didn't believe that the girl would end up being any trouble in the long run - but whatever his boss wanted, he'd get it done pronto. "Leave it to me," he said, as he followed his superior toward his office.

When they got there, Mr. Cobswell pulled out a laminated sheet of paper from a filing cabinet and handed it to Johnny. "We haven't had to use one of these in a long time," he said, as Johnny skimmed the paper. "But, times are changing, which means children are changing, too. They're getting harder to scare."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "All evidence to the contrary." He tucked the paper under his arm and they left the office.

His boss allowed a small grin. "You never seem lacking in this area of expertise, Worthington. I don't recall the last time you ever had an off day here at the factory."

"That's because I've never had one." He smirked. "It can't all be the kids, you know. Maybe some of the employees are losing their touch."

He nodded, contemplating the possibility. A slimy tentacle reached up to adjust the collar of his suit. "Perhaps it's also a matter of finding out what scares each individual child. Although our department has always been very thorough about that."

"All the more reason to hang onto the runt I'm dealing with. She's about the longest we've ever had any child."

"Yes, well…" he straightened, triangular teeth bared in mild indecision. "We'll keep things the way they are - for now. But we'll put her on the yellow list in case of any 'funny business.' Human children can be crafty."

"I know what you mean," he muttered, remembering a particular experience he had with a child's 'cleverness.' He was thinking of a boy he used to scare now and then, and during one shift, he had opened the door portal to his room - only to meet with a stack of books landing hard on his head. Evidently, the boy had anticipated his arrival and had tried to set a "trap" for him. Granted, it was no genius plan, but he was surprised - appreciative, almost - at the kid's initiative. Most children in anticipation of a monster coming out of their closet just sat in bed nervously peering around the room, or huddled under the covers. Johnny had never admitted it to anyone, but he was sorry the kid's door had to be destroyed. He would have been a fun subject to work with, maybe even would have provided him with a challenge.

If Johnny had any clandestine regrets, it was that standard protocol called for a child's door to be destroyed the instant the child could no longer provide them with scream energy, for whatever reason. In some rare cases, they have been known to destroy the doors of children who insisted that one of their parents stay in the room with them all night, but only if they repeated it over and over. But again, it was a rare case when that happened, as most parents found other ways to deal with their child's fear other than stay in their room all night waiting for something to come out of the closet that they knew wasn't there.

He still regretted it, though. He thought it might be fun to meet a kid who actually posed a challenge for him.

Johnny's partner, Charlie, stood by the first door, waiting for his co-worker to arrive. Charlie was a lot shorter than Johnny. He was a robust yellow monster with four limbs, two eyes, and sharp teeth. Two tiny horns protruded out of his scaly head. But he was a friendly guy, and Johnny didn't mind working with him.
His last assistant, a guy named Victor, had to throw in the towel when family complications arose and he found himself moving out of Monstropolis altogether. Johnny had been sorry to see him go. Victor had been an excellent assistant, and had been working with Johnny since he first started at the company.

Yet, Charlie was always enthusiastic about working with Fear Co.'s top Scarer. To him, no higher privilege could be awarded.
Although he had been transferred from a smaller scare company for outstanding performance, his eagerness to be at Fear Co. would have made anyone believe that it was his first time wrangling cans.

"Good morning, Mr. Worthington!" he chimed. "I've got your first door all ready. Looks like number one today is a boy from Colorado." Charlie was still fairly new at the job and hadn't yet familiarized himself with Johnnys' regular batch of kids. The Colorado kid was Johnnys' second most visited.

"Gregory first, huh?" Johnny said, smoothly. "Bring it on, this kid's terrified of me." He flexed his muscles and crouched to the floor in ready position.

When the light went on, he raced into the kids room, whereupon Charlie heard an ear-shattering scream, and the yellow canister filled to the top in less than a second.

"Nicely done, sir!" Charlie beamed when the large purple monster exited the room. Several more hours of scaring, and Johnny was ready to take a ten. He and Charlie made their way to the break room.

"You know, sir," Charlie said after grabbing a donut, "even with Monsters Inc. restoring to different methods nowadays, we're still not that far behind them...I mean, when it comes to producing energy."

Johnny sighed while pouring himself a cup of coffee. The revolutionized technique for obtaining energy that Monsters Inc. was now using was something he didn't like to think about, for various reasons. The company had shocked all of Monstropolis - indeed, the entire monster world - when it became known that the Scarers there had turned into...well, Entertainers. Or those that made children laugh. Whatever they chose to call it. Sure, they were doing it for the good of the company and for monsters everywhere, as apparently laugh energy was discovered to be more powerful than scream energy. Still…

"We may actually be ahead of them someday," Johnny mumbled, taking a seat opposite Charlie. He was never quite sure what to say when it came to Monsters Inc. anymore. He had mixed feelings on the matter. Sure, it was great that the company was providing a surplus in energy for monsters everywhere...but the method in which their employees now had to obtain that energy was...well...undignified. He knew that he would never be a monster that made children laugh, and neither did he want to. He was born and bred to scare, not entertain. His whole family history revolved around scaring; it was what he went to school and worked so hard for. Besides that, he was a fearsome-looking monster, not a comedic one. He refused to give up a lifetime of work and study, regardless of how efficient laugh-energy was.

Charlie had become a little more used to Johnny's moods, and was able to tell when his co-worker was in an agreeable one or not. He ventured carefully, "Well, our ways might be old-school by now, but as long as we keep trying our hardest…" He let the rest speak for itself.

It was another thing that irked Johnny. In the back of his mind, he feared that his company might one day resort to mimicking Monsters Inc. and resort to trying to obtain "laugh energy." If that day ever came, he didn't know what he would do. He had heard rumors that even Scream Industries was making steps toward revolutionizing their technique as well. Anymore, keeping up with the quota using scream energy was just too difficult.

He shoved his chair back and stood up; he didn't want to think about this right now. "Come on," he said, suddenly fiercely determined. "Let's vow to break the record today."

Johnny, of course, held several records at Fear Co., but he was always aspiring to beat it. He hadn't broken any records yet with Charlie as his partner, but he was willing to let Charlie get his "scare floor legs" before he tried pushing him hard (too hard, anyway.)

They had worked extra hard that day, bringing in door after door, filling countless canisters with scream energy. A few employees nearby even paused in their work to stare in wonder and admiration at their star player at his best.

It was toward the end of the day when a familiar door lowered itself onto the platform. It was the plainest-looking door, white with a brass knob, but Johnny would have recognized it anywhere. 'We meet again, kid,' he thought, as Charlie prepared the canister.

"Here goes, Mr. Worthington." He gave a thumbs up, and Johnny swept into the bedroom.

Unfortunately for him, a very unexpected thing happened. Before he even had a chance to ready himself for a scare method, something wound itself around his legs.

"Hey, what the -!" The 'something' tripped him up and sent him crashing to the floor. The sound of a tiny motor could be heard in the background, even with the tremendous thud of his large form onto the ground.

All Scarers knew to look out for any objects obscuring their path to a bed, but this certain "obstruction" had happened the instant Johnny moved one inch into the room. Whatever it was, it had been constructed much too cleverly for a toddler.

"Caught him! I caught him!" piped a feminine voice.

"Shhh! You're gonna wake up your parents!" said another.

Johnny was dazed, but only slightly. Almost as fast as it had happened, he tugged the string off his legs and stood up, hands on his hips, glaring at not one, but two young girls sitting on the bed in the room.

Angry and surprised, Johnny fixed the girls with a scowl. "What do you think you're doing, runt?"
It was the first time he had ever spoken to her.

The girl - the 10-year-old he had been scaring for years, now - stared wide-eyed at him. "You talk?"

"Of course I talk," he barked. Then, as if suddenly becoming aware of the situation, he moved a hand to cover his eyes. "This is no good," he said, and backed off into the door. The chance to get the child to scream had been blown.

"Wait!" the girl called. She hopped off the bed, leaving her speechless friend behind, and approached him.

Even though it was now known to all monsters that human children did not pose a danger, he still inwardly recoiled as she walked up to him. Old habits died hard, after all. "What are you?" she asked him.

"A monster," he said, "now get back to bed and don't tell anyone about this!" He seemed frustrated.

"But wait!" she said again, and this time he fought with impatience. "Who are you? Why do you come into my room to scare me?"

"Long story, kid. Let's just say it's my job." Without waiting for her to say "wait!" again, he disappeared behind the door and slammed it shut.

The girl and her friend, naturally, rushed over and opened it - but the only thing they found was the inside of her closet.

Johnny had left work angry that evening. He didn't even say bye to Charlie. When he got home, he flopped on his couch and turned on the television, hoping to find something that would distract him from the days' disturbing events. He flipped through ten channels before giving up and shutting the box off. He rubbed his temples and remained on the couch for a few minutes, allowing himself to brood, before getting up and heading to the kitchen for something to drink.

'Looks like this is it...Cobswell was right after all.'

He spent the rest of the evening trying not to worry too much about what had happened, and decided to share it with Charlie the next day.

"Say what? But, Mr. Worthington, if she's not afraid of you, we have to shred her door!"

"Will you can it?" he hissed, and Charlie put his upper hands to his mouth. "I know what this means, and it's a lot more than having the kids' door demolished! Don't you get it? She's the one who gives us the most scream energy."

"But Mr. Worthington," he said again, "it's standard procedure! Besides, she's not going to scream anymore if she isn't afraid of you."

Johnny was silent for a time, deep in thought. They were in the locker room, and no one else was around. He stuffed a sweatshirt into his locker, and then it hit him. "Mr. Cobswell was right," he said, as if a light-bulb had gone off in his head.

Charlie didn't catch on. "Of course he was right, you said so yourself."

"No," he said, waving an irritated hand. "I mean he was right about the kid - she was screaming as loud as she could, but intentionally. She was doing it on purpose."

Charlie was confused. "But, why would any kid do that?"

"What's what I don't know." He frowned. "But...I ought to find out."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Do you think that's safe? Wouldn't it be better if we just got rid of her door?"

Johnny stiffened, and faced his co-worker. "You don't get it, do you? If we lose that kid, we lose a huge portion of what makes this job successful. She's the oldest kid I scare, and her screams are a lot more powerful than the younger ones."

"...Does it really make that much difference if you only lose one kid?"

"It does to me. Besides," he turned away, "we've got to do everything we can for this company, what with Monsters Inc. in the lead with their laughing techniques and all. That means doing everything. Every scream we get is crucial, if we want to keep things the way they've been going on for time on end."

Charlie nodded, beginning to understand why he was making such a fuss over one kid. "Alright, as long as you know what you're doing." He shook his head, as if he still strongly disapproved of the idea.

Johnny, however, was adamant. "The boss told me to keep an eye on the kid, and that's exactly what I'm gonna be doing."