The Death of Ginger

Summary
This is a parody of The Gingerbread Man. I wondered what it would be like to set it in a high school. (with some blood in the end, jwu.)

Positions:

Ginger: Gingerbread Man.

Georgie and Albert: Little Old Woman and Little Old Man, respectively.

Butch: Butcher.

Bess: Cow.

Perky: Pig. (no references to Porky Pig, I was just thinking of a nickname similar to Pork. [without being Park, as that's close to the name of my friend.])

Harly: Horse.

Renard: Fox.

Story
Ginger walked through the halls of Village Court High.

Technically, his name was Greg. Ginger was and had been his nickname since sixth grade when the kids at Oldman Middle School had made fun of his do-you-need-an-extinguisher red hair.

He was more self-conscious than ever today, and not just because his parents had forced him into a blue button-down shirt and yellow checked pants.

It was because of the cologne.

His dad had made him wear cologne, as part of his "becoming a true man" phase. (which he wished he'd never had.) His dad said it would make him "irresistible."

Instead, he smelled like a gingerbread house on fire.

"Hey, Hansel," Roy, the school bully, hissed in his ear. "What's with the perfume? You got a girlfriend?"

"Shutupandleavemealone," Ginger mumbled.

"Can't hear you," Roy taunted. "Mouthful of gumdrops?"

"Leave him alone!" came a voice from behind. Ginger turned around to see Georgie, a little freshman girl who never knew when to shut up.

"Ok, mom," Roy hissed, sauntering away.

"Sorry he's such a jerk," Georgie said.

"Thanks," Ginger said, then turned to go to class.

He got about thirty feet down the hall before realizing that Georgie was following him.

"Um, this goes to the sophomore classes?" Ginger prompted.

"Oh, does it?" Georgie said with a giggle. "I'm sorry."

Fifty feet more, and Ginger spun around again.

"Why are you stalking me?" he asked. She just giggled again.

"Oh," she said. "I don't know. I just kinda think your cologne smells good."

Ack, Ginger thought. Curse you, Dad.

Then: Wait, doesn't she have a-

"HEY, FIRE HAIR!"

Boyfriend, Ginger finished helplessly as Albert came storming down the hall.

"You flirtin' with Georgie behind my back, huh?" Albert grunted loudly. "You two made out yet?"

"Oh, no, Allie," Georgie simpered. "Ginger and I were just talking-"

"About your WEDDING PLANS?" Albert roared.

Ginger's feet reacted for him. He took off running.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE RED-HEADED PUNK!" came Albert's voice, in tandem with his heavy footsteps. Was he wearing cleats?

"Aww, Gingie, come back!" came Georgie.

Just shut up shut up shut up, Ginger thought at Georgie, hoping she could hear his silent plea.

"What're...y'all...runnin' from?" came Butch's drawl. Roy's sidekick was leaning against the lockers, picking his yellow-tinted teeth, his black hair flopping in his face.

Before Ginger could respond, Albert yelled "CATCHING THE LITTLE CHEATING PUNK!"

"Oh," Butch said, a crooked grin on his face. "I always...love...a chase."

Ginger ran for his life, hearing the shink of Butch's pocketknife behind.

He wouldn't dare, Ginger thought, but he kept moving.

They passed Bess Harland at the drinking fountain.

"What's going on?" she said in her slow, melodious voice.

Albert responded again, the same thing he yelled at Butch.

"Well, I NEVER!" Bess bellowed, then raced after Ginger as well.

They passed a few others, including Perky the eating-contest-winner and Harly, the racing champion. (she put Run Like a Girl to a whole new meaning.) Both joined in the chase, seeing Ginger in the wrong.

Ginger heaved to a stop in one of the lower hallways. I think I lost them on the second floor, he thought.

"Psst."

"Eh?" Ginger turned around slowly.

"Psssst!"

He turned again and jumped out of his skin.

There was Renard Rivers, standing by the bathroom door. His golden-red hair was cropped at a rakish angle in his yellow-green eyes. He held a small book that he obviously wasn't taking any interest in. His too-fancy suit was impeccable, not a speck of dust on it. He blew the odd white tip of his hair out of his eyes.

"What're you doin'?" he asked, his voice low and throaty.

"Running," Ginger panted.

"Sorry," Renard said, jerking his head at the hallway hustle. "Can't hear you. C'mere."

Ginger came up next to him. "Running from Albert."

"Ah," Renard said. "C'mon. Into the bathroom. We can talk."

"Sure," Ginger said, following him into the boys' bathroom.

Renard went back to shut the door.

Shinnnnk.

Ginger's last words were a scream and a flash of silver.

One Week Later
'Case file (abbreviated): Death of Greg Samuel Bredd '' Crime scene: First-Floor Men's Bathroom, Village Court High. XXX Xxxx Xx, XXXXX Cause of Death: Murder Perpetrator: Renard Vernon Rivers Dialogue for Case: I.F.  Will you plead innocent or guilty? R.V.R. Guilty. Of course. I had no qualms about it. I would have taken more, too, but they got me. No denying it, I did it. You can't make me say otherwise. Notes: R.V.R. seemed to be more inclined to plead guilty versus innocent. Obvious mental issues here. ''Case Closed. Trial will be held on xx/xx/xxxx'