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metallicbluemorpho · 26 days ago

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Painting The Town Green (A Once-ler Fanfiction)

So for my first fanfic post, I am going to post...my first fanfic (or at least the first fanfic I had written in several years). I wrote this one shot a little over a year ago after becoming obsessed with the Once-ler.

fandom: The Lorax, The Once-ler Fandom

relationship: None

word count: 2,594

rating: T

warnings: Some suggestive content and Drinking

summary: The Once-ler heads out for a night on the town with his top investors, but the night doesn't go as planned. Funny story but sad ending. Rated T for some suggestive content and drinking.

Notes: I wanted to read a story about the Once-ler doing rich people stuff. So I wrote this. I haven't written fanfiction in years Please let me know what you think of the story and thank you for reading.

Work Text: Inside his bedroom, the Once-ler was getting ready for a night out on the town. It was an important occasion. He would be entertaining several of his top investors, but he also hoped the night would be a fun one. He stood in front of his full-length mirror and put on his finest green suit, his biggest top hat, and a thneed. Just as he had finished adjusting his outfit, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” the Once-ler answered.

His assistant and (designated) driver for the night stepped inside the room.

“Everything is ready for the night, Mr. The Once-ler. Your limo is waiting outside.” His assistant pulled out a list. “ As you have suggested, we will first be meeting with your investors at Greenville's 'finest and most expensive' restaurant, then everyone will meet at Greenville's 'hottest and coolest' club, finally we shall all return to the factory where you will entertain your guests with your 'mad guitar skills' and show off all the 'awesome' stuff you own in your attached penthouse.”

His assistant was unamused. He had worked for several rich, eccentric people in his lifetime. He figured that the Once-ler was just going to get drunk and make a fool out of himself tonight like all the other rich people he worked for.

“Yep, sounds like a plan,” the Once-ler replied excitedly. “But before we go, did you bring that stuff I requested? You know, that white stuff?” he asked with a wink. “I wanted to have a hit before we headed out.”

“Yes sir.” His assistant reached into his pocket and handed the Once-ler a small bag of marshmallows.

“Alright!” the Once-ler took a handful of the marshmallows and shoved them in his mouth. “Nothing like a sugar buzz to get you ready for a big night out! Let's get going!”

His assistant led the Once-ler to his limo and drove him to the restaurant, where his investors, along with their assistants (and 'designated' drivers) were already waiting. They were seated in an exclusive private room and everyone placed their orders. Since the Once-ler was paying, the investors took care to order the most expensive menu items and fine wines.

The Once-ler cringed a bit as he thought about the bill, but he hoped that by doing this the investors would be impressed with him. After a few business-like greetings, the investors talked among themselves, mostly ignoring the Once-ler. They had all been in the business world for a while now, whereas the Once-ler, while successful, was just starting out. They figured that he was likely not very knowledgeable about the world of business, so they paid him no mind while they talked and enjoyed the fancy wine he bought them.

Finally, their food arrived. Served on fancy silver plates with fancy silver dish covers.

The Once-ler lifted his dish cover, but he did not see the meatloaf he had ordered. Or at least not the kind of meatloaf he had expected.

“Hey Beanpole I need to talk to ya!” Hidden under the dish cover was none other than the Lorax.

The Once-ler gasped in horror and slammed his dish cover shut.

“Is there a problem sir?” one of the waitresses asked.

“E-erm yes.” The Once-ler stammered. “I just suddenly remembered that I am deathly allergic to meatloaf. I'll need another dish. I will have the lasagna instead.”

While Once-ler was talking to the waitress. The Lorax crawled out from under the dish cover, jumped off the table, and hid behind a plastic plant that was next to the Once-ler.

“Beanpole!” the Lorax shouted, trying to get the Once-ler's attention.

“Shh! What are you doing here?” the Once-ler whispered angrily, turning towards the Lorax.

“I am the Lorax and I speak for the trees!” he answered

“Yeah, I know. We've met.” the Once-ler huffed.

“Really? Because I don't recognize you.” the Lorax replied coldly “You see this beanpole?” the Lorax gestured to the plastic plant he was hiding behind. “All the plants are gonna wind up like this if keep on making those stupid thneeds. Is that really what you want?”

“I'll shove my thneed up a place where the sun don't shine if you don't shut up.” the Once-ler retorted.

The Once-ler and the Lorax kept arguing. At this point, the investors finally looked up from their expensive meals towards the Once-ler. None of them could see the Lorax, so they just saw what appeared to be the Once-ler randomly yelling at a plastic potted plant. The investors began to gossip about him.

“Wow. One glass of wine and the guy is already hammered.” one of them said.

“I'm pretty sure he took a hit of something else before he even got here.” another replied

“You know what they say about eccentric inventors…” another one of them said. “… I heard that the guy is crazy and talks to himself.”

“I heard that the guy does a lot more than just talk with himself.” another replied.

Finally, seeing that the Once-ler would not listen to reason, the Lorax gave up for now. He would have to find another way to stop him later. “Fine then.” the Lorax snapped “Enjoy your stuck up party, and your superficial life!”

“Thank you, I will.” the Once-ler replied smugly.

The Lorax began walking away “And by the way…” he shouted before leaving “…that outfit makes you look completely ridiculous!”

“Oh you are so wrong.” the Onceler shouted back. “All the girls think this outfit is totally sexy, so you can just shut your mustache!” The Once-ler flipped the Lorax off, then turned around to find everyone at the table staring at him.

The Once-ler let out a nervous laugh and bit his lip, having no explanation for his actions. Luckily at that moment his food had arrived, and him and his investors went back to eating.

After dinner, they all made their way to the club, just as planned. The Once-ler and his investors sat at the bar. They were finishing up their first round of drinks, talking and laughing among themselves and once again ignoring the Once-ler. He fiddled with his empty glass nervously. Then he pulled out a wad of cash. He knew what he needed to do in order to impress them.

“How about another round on me?” he asked.

The investors cheered as their drinks were served. That's what the Once-ler was told, everybody likes the guy that brings (or buys) the booze.

Seeing this, a woman, wearing a thneed dress and high heels, sauntered up to the bar. The Once-ler noticed her approach, and threw back the rest of his cocktail. Growing up on a farm meant that he did not have much experience with women, so he was nervous around them. The woman sat down next to the Once-ler. She knew that the Once-ler he was packin', hopefully in more ways than one. The investors finally become interested and turned to look at the Once-ler, wondering how the situation was going to go down.

“So is that a wad of cash in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” she asked him.

The Once-ler did the only thing he knew how to do to impress someone, flaunt his wealth.

“That is indeed a wad of cash in my pants.” he replied pulling it out. “Would you like me to buy you a drink with it?” He was told that you were supposed to buy pretty girls drinks.

“Sure.” she replied

“Although I am happy to see you.” he added. Trying to be polite and not knowing what she actually meant by that.

“Aw you're so cute.” she replied. “By the way I love your thneed. I just love the way the material feels on my skin.” she brushed her fingers over her dress, trying to draw attention to her curves.

The bartender brought over their drinks. The Once-ler, still nervous, quickly took a sip of his before resuming the conversation.

“Thank you.I carefully designed the thneed to accommodate a variety of different needs, and it is made out of the finest material. ” he told her, gesturing to his own thneed.

“Speaking of needs…” she replied flirtatiously “…I was wondering if you were in need of a personal assistant.”

“Oh, well my company is biggering rapidly…” the Once-ler took another sip of his drink “…and I'm going to have to fill a variety of positions.”

“Oh yeah,” she replied excitedly. “I'd love to help you with your biggering. Maybe we can schedule a private interview and discuss those various positions” she whispered seductively.

“We are actually holding open interviews next week.” The Once-ler replied, handing her a business card. “You should stop by.”

“Um… Ok then thanks.” she replied taking the card. She suddenly realized that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this guy, so she walked away.

“Thank you for considering a career at Thneed inc!” the Once-ler called out back to her.

The investors laughed.

The one sitting next to the Once-ler turned back around and said to him “You sure missed out on an opportunity there.”

“What are you talking about?” the Once-ler replied “I let her know that I have a variety of career opportunities available at my company.”

The investor rolled his eyes and went back to his drink.

Another woman strolled up to the bar towards the Once-ler, but with a different objective in mind.

“You wanna dance pretty boy?” she asked.

“Sure.” he replied excitedly. The alcohol was finally starting to kick in, and he was ready to let loose.

She led him to the floor, and they began to dance. The woman was impressed with the Once-ler's slick moves, despite his being slightly intoxicated, but that wasn't really why she had asked him to dance.

She moved closer to him, then she placed her hands on his shoulders. As they moved to the music, she let her hands slip down his body. She moved from his shoulders, down to his chest, then his waist, and finally, she placed her hands on his hips.

Then in one swift motion, just as the song was ending, she plucked the wad of cash he had earlier out of his pocket. Then she quickly stuffed it in her bra. The Once-ler, intoxicated by both the alcohol and the music, did not notice.

As the song switched over she quickly turned away. “Thanks for the dance pretty boy.”

“It was nice to meet you too.” he shouted back.

The marshmallows he'd had earlier, and the alcohol had kept him going. The Once-ler kept dancing until it was time to leave. In fact, he kept dancing until it was beyond time to leave. The workers at the bar were trying to clean up and they had even turned off the music an hour ago.

The Once-ler didn't want the party to stop yet though, so he brought all the investors down to the penthouse attached to his factory where he lived. After drunkenly showing off all of his expensive collectibles and furniture to his guests, who were all too drunk to care about anything at this point, it was finally time to show off his “mad guitar skills”.

He led them to the parlor and grabbed his guitar. He played them a song he wrote himself called “How Bad Can I Be.” Or at least he tried too, while his guitar playing remained impeccable despite being drunk, he kept repeating the chorus over and over and making up random lyrics.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

Just look at me I'm so cool and edgy.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

I can't remember the last time I did my laundry

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

I 'm hungry and could really go for a pastry.

The investors just laughed and cheered, not even coherent enough to understand what he was even singing. They didn't even realize that the lyrics began to take a darker turn. As he continued his song, the Once-ler began to come to several realizations.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

I hope you all enjoyed my party.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

But to be honest the night was kind of crappy.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

I just realized that one girl was not an interviewee.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

And I think that other girl might have robbed me.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

And I know that you all think I'm just a dumb newbie.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

I know that none of you actually respect me.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

You're just using me to make more money.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

You all are just like my family.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

My family was never proud of me.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

They told me knitting was unmanly.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

Until I started making money.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

Then they finally acknowledged me.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

But all they care about is my company.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

They will never love me unconditionally.

The Once-ler began to drunkenly sob as he continued his song. The investors, completely hammered and unaware, continued to laugh and cheer.

How pathetic can I possibly be? Let's see

Now I have to keep providing.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

To keep my family from vilifying.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

All this work is so tiring.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

I feel like my brain is frying.

How ba-a-a-ad can I be?

This is all so unsatisfying.

How sad? How sad can I possibly beeeeee?

After he finished the song the Once-ler slumped over his guitar and sobbed heavily. His top hat fell off of his head. The investors continued to not notice or care, but someone else did. His assistant had decided that it was time for the evening to finally come to a close. He knew that he would have been fired if he had interrupted the song, but now that the Once-ler had finally finished, he could intervene. He stood in front of the Once-ler.

“Alright gentlemen, that closes us out for the night. Mr. The Once-ler thanks you all for coming. You will find your assistants and drivers waiting for you all in the lobby. Have a good evening everyone.”

The investors made their way out of the parlor, stumbling into the lobby. After they had left, the assistant saw to his boss. He carefully removed the Once-ler's guitar and set it back in the case. Then he helped the Once-ler up and guided him to one of the chairs in the parlor. He then made his way to the kitchen, grabbing some aspirin and a large glass of water. The assistant returned to the parlor and placed the items on the side table next to the Once-ler's chair, knowing his boss would need them in the morning.

“Th-thank you.” the Once-ler murmured, his head buried in his gloved hands. Thankful, that at that moment, somebody actually cared about him, even to small extent.

“Don't mention it.” his assistant replied. He then left the room and turned out the lights. Leaving the Once-ler alone in the dark. Even though the Once-ler was just another eccentric, rich boss to work for, his assistant couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. Things really did seem to go terribly for him that night.

Luckily, neither the Once-ler nor his investors were likely to remember any of it.

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