Bloo Birthday
A/N: Hello, pipples! This is my first FHFIF fic so please, bear with me. This is one theory on the day Bloo was imagined... not really related to anything, just a drabble. I would love reviews if you're willing to give them! I will accept constructive criticism, but don't be a jerk and flame me. I will not start a flame war, but I can be mean. :D (No, there's not supposed to be an 'S' at the end of Bloo. It's like Blue Birthday. Get it?)
Disclaimer: I don't own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends… I doubt I ever will, but anything's possible.
"Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday dear meee-eeee! Happy Birthday toooo-ooooo-ooooo meeeeeeee!" Bloo sang, for lack of a better word, as he paraded around the great Victorian mansion at 7:30 in the morning.
"Certainly an unorthodox wake up call, but I commend you for being up on time today, Master Blooreguard." Mr. Harriman said, hopping up alongside the small blue blob as he continued his one-imaginary-friend-chorus. "Your Creation Day party will be held at 3:00 sharp in the dining room. Please do not be late. Oh, and a happy day of creation to you, Master Blooreguard."
" Thanks Mr. H." Bloo stopped his song only long enough say his thanks before continuing on through the halls.
Imaginary friends left their rooms grumbling and complaining. "The one time a year he gets up on time and he has to make the rest of us suffer." One muttered.
"Well esuu-uuse me for thinking that my birthday is a day for tremendous, stupendous, super-totally awesome celebration!" Bloo said as he headed back towards his own room.
Upon entering he found that his friends had still not risen from bed, nest or floor. "Hey guys! C'mon, get up! It's my birthday and you should be up!"
"Cocococococo!"
"Yeah, Bloo, we know it's your birthday. How could we forget?" Wilt chimed in.
"Aw. Cuz I'm so awesome, you remembered?"
"No, Azul, you wouldn't stop reminding us." Eduardo said from the top bunk.
"Same difference. So whadjya guys get me??"
"Co." Coco said, producing a small package.
Bloo pounced on it and ripped all the bows and wrappings off to produce: "A piece of fabric? That's what you guys got me?"
"No, Bloo, it's a cape. See the big 'B' on the back?"
"Oh, yeah! Cool! I'm SUPER BLOO! WHOOSH!" Bloo proceeded to tie the cape around what could only be called his neck and fly around the room. "Thanks, it's awesome!"
Bloo flew down to breakfast and circled the table a few times before settling between Wilt and Eduardo. After a breakfast of cereal ("It's super-cereal, the breakfast of heroes!" Bloo proclaimed), the gang off to do their chores. Bloo, exempt from chores on his birthday, went the foyer to practice flying techniques and wait on Mac, who had promised to show up early since it was a Saturday. The doors opened quietly that day just a Bloo was about to attempt a flight off a high banister. Mac walked in, rather subdued-looking. "Bloo, what're you doing??" He shouted, seeing Bloo up on the banister.
"AAUUGGHH!! OOF!" Bloo, surprised by Mac's outburst, lost his balance and fell of f the banister, landing on the floor. "Ouch."
"What were you doing up there?" Mac asked incredulously.
"The guys got me this awesome cape for my birthday and I was trying to fly before you broke my concentration! What did you get me?? Is it something awesome?"
"Yep. I got you this temporary tattoo set." Mac handed over a small booklet.
"Awesome!!" Bloo flipped through the book of tattoos that said things like: 'I'm Awesome' and 'Super Cool Guy.'
"You like it?"
"Yeah! Thanks, buddy. Let's go put one on!"
The boy and his imaginary friend proceeded to the nearest bathroom to rub on one of the many tattoos. Before long, Bloo wore four tattoos on his blue blob of a body and Mac had one on his arm. In all his excitement, Bloo could still tell there was something wrong with Mac. "Hey, Mac? Something wrong? How come you're not celebrating this super-awesome day?"
"I'm okay."
"C'mon, Mac! Tell me what's wrong!"
"I'm fine!"
"No, you're not! You're the opposite of fine! You're… not fine!"
"There's nothing wrong with me!"
"Yes, there is! I know it! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me! Pleeeeaaaassse??"
"No! It would ruin your day!"
"It would? Well… no, you still have to tell me what's wrong."
"It's something about the day you were created."
"The day I was created was super-awesome! Wasn't it?"
"Not really. Sorry."
"Not really? Not really?! It had to be! What made it less super-awesome?"
"Someone died."
"Ack! Who?"
"…My dad."
"What? But you said that your mom was divorced."
"I didn't want to ruin your birthday."
"Well it's too late now so you might as well explain yourself."
"Well… okay. See, it was five years ago and I was three and my dad was out at the park with me. I don't remember much of what happened. But I know that it was a horrible day because there was some sort of shooting spree at the park and they got my dad and five other people. I just remember there was screaming and shouting and loud banging noises and then my dad was gone. Someone called the police and they took me home after questioning me. I didn't see anything my back had been turned the whole time. After I got home, I locked myself in a closet and I felt so lonely, I made you up. And that's it." Mac finished the short and depressing tale, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
"Wow. That's rough… y'know what'd make you feel better?" Bloo said, throwing and arm around Mac's shoulders.
"No. What?" Mac asked, sniffing.
"Wearing my cape."
"Really? I can wear it?"
"Well… For a little while."
--
Frankie and Madame Foster watched Mac and his blue blob of an imaginary friend zoom around the foyer, talking in ridiculous tones and coming up with catch phrases that were by far more ridiculous. "Y'know, I saw Mac come in and he seemed kinda down about something." Frankie said.
"He seems fine now, dear." Madame Foster replied.
"Yeah. Bloo may be selfish and annoying and conceited, but he's a good friend for Mac. Whyever Mac created him, the day is worth celebrating."
A/N: And there we go! My first Foster's fic. Please excuse any errors, I wrote this at two in the morning… heh.