(no subject)
Name: Charles Edward Quackenbush-McQueen, "Chuck." Since Superbad came out, people have been calling him "McLovin." He doesn't think they look that much alike.
Age/Birthdate: 18; June 22, 1989
Sexuality: Painfully heterosexual.
Occupation: Freshman at Columbia University
Fairytale: Cinderella's Prince
Ability, if any: n/a
Status: Chuck always felt different from other kids, even from a very young age. Chuck has known he was a tale since he was very young, in fact, since he was in elementary school. However, even as a member of the tale community, he still feels different somehow. He didn't become active in the Tale community until he got to college, and suddenly found himself in the presence of many, many people like him. He isn't shy about who he is or was, hoping it will make him seem "cooler," and will answer the question "Who were you?" every time he's asked. He may even volunteer the information on his own.
History: An only child, Chuck was raised by two Quaker parents in the sprawling suburb of Columbia, Maryland. A planned community founded by the idealistic James Rouse in the late sixties, Columbia very nearly epitomizes upper-middle class, liberal, white-collar suburbia (although it's not "white" by any stretch of the imagination, being very deliberately diverse and educated-immigrant-friendly). Among its many other mockable quirks, Columbia incorporates communal mailboxes, streets with names derived from lines of poetry and literature, and smaller "villages" within the community - Chuck grew up in the Faulkner Ridge neighborhood of the village of Wilde Lake, which also contained Aesop-inspired area. Needless to say, Chuck had an extremely sheltered and privileged childhood. He's also surprised that he can't find streets in New York with names like "Tolling Bells Court," "Last Sunbeam Place," "Evensong Mews," or "Snuffbox Terrace."
One of his earliest memories comes from kindergarten, as he was playing the name game in music class on the first day of school. You know how it goes: "Mary, Mary, bo Barry, banana panna po Perry, fee fi fo Fairy, Mary!" The teacher started on Chucks name and then decided to just stop the game in the middle of it, right after "banana panna po Puck." Chuck couldn't figure out why until he was in sixth grade, but the memory of being deliberately skipped had already stuck with him throughout his elementary school years. He was never "cool" as a kid, and he blamed a lot of it on never being able to play the Name Game in kindergarten.
Three years later, when Chuck was in second grade, his most significant memory occurred. On Halloween, all the kids in his class dressed up and came to class in costume. Chuck was a Donatello the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but another girl in his class had decided to be Cinderella. Chuck couldn't describe what he felt at the time, although now he'd recognize it as a milder form of tale flashback. He immediately attached himself to the Cinderella girl and told her that he was her prince, even when she protested and said that, no, he was a turtle! Turtles can't be princes! Chuck didn't get it. She said he was wrong, so then why did it feel so right? On All Saint's Day, a man who claimed to be conducting a random scientific study on the behavior of children requested to see Chuck in the guidance office of his school. The scientific study bit was a lie. As it turned out, Chuck really was Cinderella's prince, but he was after the wrong Cinderella. The girl in his class wasn't the real one, but she was out there. Somewhere.
Chuck went to Wilde Lake High School, and he likes to brag that he went to the same school as Edward Norton. Edward fucking Norton, people, isn't that amazing? In high school, he continued to lack a social life, but not because he spent all of his time studying. God, no. He was a band geek, and played the euphonium in the marching band. He did math meets, debate team (doing practices with nearby Atholton High School), and competed in his school's It's Academic team. Chuck thinks of his shining high school moment as the time he was voted Homecoming Prince in senior year. He still has no idea that it was a joke, and he brags about it occasionally, citing how appropriate it is to his tale.
Chuck's best best (and only) friend in school was an Indian kid named Nikhil Patel, who was about as much of a loser as Chuck himself. In an attempt at coolness, they used to mix music on Nikhil's MacBook and post it to the internet under the names M.C. Nickels and D.J. Quack. They thought that they were the most hardcore guys ever, despite being a pair of awkward teenagers from Columbia, of all places. Nikhil wasn't a tale (as far as Chuck knows), and he's off at Stanford now, claiming to pimp the Californian honeys.
Chuck got 2380 on his SATs, with a perfect score on the multiple choice. His essay wasn't quite as hot. He thought that, with scores such as his, he could go anywhere he wanted, and he wanted to go to MIT. Unfortunately, he was rejected, probably due to a completely botched interview (and maybe another not-so-hot essay). All Chuck could do during his alumni interview for MIT was repeat that he really, really, really wanted to attend that school. And look at his interviewer's feet. Needless to say, he did not leave a good impression, and MIT really has been trying to cut down on it's socially awkward nerd percentage in recent years. Chuck got in everywhere else he applied: Yale, Princeton, Columbia, UChicago Stanford, and Towson as his backup school. Yeah, Towson. Like he was going to go there. He settled on Columbia, partly because he could finally get involved with the tale community there, and partly because he thought it would be so cool to go to a college with the same name as his hometown. His parents were initially reluctant to let him go to college in New York City, but they went with it. And here he is.
Personality: Chuck's social skills or lack thereof could stem partly from his over protective parents, but chances are they were caused almost exclusively by his undiagnosed Asperger's Syndrome. Even though Chuck was odd as a child, his parents never thought that there was anything inherently different about him, and, thus, never sent him to have a psychiatric evaluation. Chuck might have benefited from it. He's a sweet kid, and well meaning, but goddamn if he isn't weird. If he were officially diagnosed, psychologists might marvel at how he is almost a textbook case of the typical Asperger's kid. He's even got a bit of the Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder thing going on: he likes having physical things in order, and always performs the same routines when, say, waking up and going to bed. But more abstract things like organizing his life? Are you kidding?
Chuck has a lot of trouble relating to people, especially in making connections with strangers. He's not completely withdrawn; he has been known to approach people and attempt to start conversations, even if his idea of a conversation includes long-winded monologues about the intricacies of the Dalek/Time Lord relationship in Doctor Who, verbal tutorials on how to tune and play a brass instrument in B-flat, and descriptions of his own masturbation habits (an average of twice a day and three times on Sundays). Even when he doesn't scare people away with his nerdiness and/or complete lack of social boundaries, Chuck rarely feels like he "clicks" with people he has just met, and he finds it difficult to build up friendships. Much of his difficulty in instant connections comes from Chuck's reluctance to expose himself, which he expresses in his body language. Eye contact - not even prolonged eye contact, just eye contact in general - makes him uncomfortable, and he carries himself awkwardly.
He isn't insensitive; his Quaker upbringing gave Chuck a sense of values and respect for all people. However, he has a severely impaired sense of human empathy, which means that he can't really pick up on other people's feelings and might seem cold. He tends to intellectualize human interaction, although he has trouble with execution in real-life situations. Mentally, he knows that a frown signals unhappiness, and crying signifies an even greater degree. Practically, when confronted with a downturned mouth or tears streaming down cheeks, Chuck will have trouble understanding the depths of such emotions, and even more trouble trying to help. He's even intellectualized humor and, despite his best attempts to do the same for figurative language, he has a tentative grasp on it, at best. He understands it when people say certain phrases they don't mean literally, but he rarely, if ever, uses such expressions on his own. He is similarly impaired when discussing his own feelings. He's so far from in tune with them that they might not even be his, most of the time.
Throughout his childhood, Chuck encountered many moments when people around him were talking, he butted in on the conversation, and the converses told him to "shut up. We weren't talking to you." He still has them every so often, and it's because of this that he's grown skeptical about the idea of having friends who actually like him and want to be around him. He often feels ignored and, as such, will repeat himself often, just to make sure. Chuck desperately wants to be liked and accepted, to the point where he's easily manipulated by others. He tries to latch onto people he thinks will accept him, and to varying degrees of success. He doesn't know when he's not wanted until it's been put to him bluntly, which makes it all the worse. Frustrated with feeling unwanted, Chuck wonders if he's ever going to find a close interpersonal relationship, as much as he would like one. It's because of this that he's thrown himself into escapist sci-fi TV and nonfiction books. He also tries to branch out and be wild, but it's obvious that the people he pretends to be aren't him.
An engineering major, Chuck is extremely logically-minded, and would fit in well at MIT. Unfortunately, the university is trying to steer away from the image as being a haven for socially retarded nerds and, seeing as how Chuck is the very definition of a socially retarded nerd, that didn't work in his favor. Chuck knows he's smart, and that's why it's hard for him to understand why he has so much trouble socially. He feels like he's got a lot of knowledge and insight to give, but other people can't hear it. Sometimes, he wonders if he's too smart for his own good. No, that's not it, honey. You'll figure it out eventually.
Played-By: Christopher Mintz-Plasse
the obligatory bit
Cinderella's prince lacked the social graces to ask a girl her name before he fell head over heels in love with her, and had to later identify her by her shoe size. There's precedent for princes with people problems, but they've never been so bad as now. Chuck is about as far from princely as a guy could get. He's short, skinny, socially retarded, and sometimes a bit annoying. However, he has a princely sense of honor. As much as he would like to cash in his V-card, for instance, Chuck could never take advantage of a drunken sorority girl, nor would he ever have a meaningless hook-up. Well, if anyone ever wanted to have a meaningless hook-up with him, which doesn't seem likely. Chuck has a very romanticized picture of love that he may never experience in real life, even if he does ever convince a girl to date him.
The prince was charismatic enough to get Cinderella to fall in love with him, despite his lack of social know-how and the fact that he didn't know the first thing about her until he was ready to propose. Chuck often wishes he'd somehow inherited his tale's charisma. It's hard for him to have over 300 years of memories of being (relatively) smooth with the ladies, and then to be completely unable to apply any of his experience practically. Also, he has a thing for feet. Not that he would ever admit it. Wait, what am I saying? Of course he would.
Age/Birthdate: 18; June 22, 1989
Sexuality: Painfully heterosexual.
Occupation: Freshman at Columbia University
Fairytale: Cinderella's Prince
Ability, if any: n/a
Status: Chuck always felt different from other kids, even from a very young age. Chuck has known he was a tale since he was very young, in fact, since he was in elementary school. However, even as a member of the tale community, he still feels different somehow. He didn't become active in the Tale community until he got to college, and suddenly found himself in the presence of many, many people like him. He isn't shy about who he is or was, hoping it will make him seem "cooler," and will answer the question "Who were you?" every time he's asked. He may even volunteer the information on his own.
History: An only child, Chuck was raised by two Quaker parents in the sprawling suburb of Columbia, Maryland. A planned community founded by the idealistic James Rouse in the late sixties, Columbia very nearly epitomizes upper-middle class, liberal, white-collar suburbia (although it's not "white" by any stretch of the imagination, being very deliberately diverse and educated-immigrant-friendly). Among its many other mockable quirks, Columbia incorporates communal mailboxes, streets with names derived from lines of poetry and literature, and smaller "villages" within the community - Chuck grew up in the Faulkner Ridge neighborhood of the village of Wilde Lake, which also contained Aesop-inspired area. Needless to say, Chuck had an extremely sheltered and privileged childhood. He's also surprised that he can't find streets in New York with names like "Tolling Bells Court," "Last Sunbeam Place," "Evensong Mews," or "Snuffbox Terrace."
One of his earliest memories comes from kindergarten, as he was playing the name game in music class on the first day of school. You know how it goes: "Mary, Mary, bo Barry, banana panna po Perry, fee fi fo Fairy, Mary!" The teacher started on Chucks name and then decided to just stop the game in the middle of it, right after "banana panna po Puck." Chuck couldn't figure out why until he was in sixth grade, but the memory of being deliberately skipped had already stuck with him throughout his elementary school years. He was never "cool" as a kid, and he blamed a lot of it on never being able to play the Name Game in kindergarten.
Three years later, when Chuck was in second grade, his most significant memory occurred. On Halloween, all the kids in his class dressed up and came to class in costume. Chuck was a Donatello the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but another girl in his class had decided to be Cinderella. Chuck couldn't describe what he felt at the time, although now he'd recognize it as a milder form of tale flashback. He immediately attached himself to the Cinderella girl and told her that he was her prince, even when she protested and said that, no, he was a turtle! Turtles can't be princes! Chuck didn't get it. She said he was wrong, so then why did it feel so right? On All Saint's Day, a man who claimed to be conducting a random scientific study on the behavior of children requested to see Chuck in the guidance office of his school. The scientific study bit was a lie. As it turned out, Chuck really was Cinderella's prince, but he was after the wrong Cinderella. The girl in his class wasn't the real one, but she was out there. Somewhere.
Chuck went to Wilde Lake High School, and he likes to brag that he went to the same school as Edward Norton. Edward fucking Norton, people, isn't that amazing? In high school, he continued to lack a social life, but not because he spent all of his time studying. God, no. He was a band geek, and played the euphonium in the marching band. He did math meets, debate team (doing practices with nearby Atholton High School), and competed in his school's It's Academic team. Chuck thinks of his shining high school moment as the time he was voted Homecoming Prince in senior year. He still has no idea that it was a joke, and he brags about it occasionally, citing how appropriate it is to his tale.
Chuck's best best (and only) friend in school was an Indian kid named Nikhil Patel, who was about as much of a loser as Chuck himself. In an attempt at coolness, they used to mix music on Nikhil's MacBook and post it to the internet under the names M.C. Nickels and D.J. Quack. They thought that they were the most hardcore guys ever, despite being a pair of awkward teenagers from Columbia, of all places. Nikhil wasn't a tale (as far as Chuck knows), and he's off at Stanford now, claiming to pimp the Californian honeys.
Chuck got 2380 on his SATs, with a perfect score on the multiple choice. His essay wasn't quite as hot. He thought that, with scores such as his, he could go anywhere he wanted, and he wanted to go to MIT. Unfortunately, he was rejected, probably due to a completely botched interview (and maybe another not-so-hot essay). All Chuck could do during his alumni interview for MIT was repeat that he really, really, really wanted to attend that school. And look at his interviewer's feet. Needless to say, he did not leave a good impression, and MIT really has been trying to cut down on it's socially awkward nerd percentage in recent years. Chuck got in everywhere else he applied: Yale, Princeton, Columbia, UChicago Stanford, and Towson as his backup school. Yeah, Towson. Like he was going to go there. He settled on Columbia, partly because he could finally get involved with the tale community there, and partly because he thought it would be so cool to go to a college with the same name as his hometown. His parents were initially reluctant to let him go to college in New York City, but they went with it. And here he is.
Personality: Chuck's social skills or lack thereof could stem partly from his over protective parents, but chances are they were caused almost exclusively by his undiagnosed Asperger's Syndrome. Even though Chuck was odd as a child, his parents never thought that there was anything inherently different about him, and, thus, never sent him to have a psychiatric evaluation. Chuck might have benefited from it. He's a sweet kid, and well meaning, but goddamn if he isn't weird. If he were officially diagnosed, psychologists might marvel at how he is almost a textbook case of the typical Asperger's kid. He's even got a bit of the Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder thing going on: he likes having physical things in order, and always performs the same routines when, say, waking up and going to bed. But more abstract things like organizing his life? Are you kidding?
Chuck has a lot of trouble relating to people, especially in making connections with strangers. He's not completely withdrawn; he has been known to approach people and attempt to start conversations, even if his idea of a conversation includes long-winded monologues about the intricacies of the Dalek/Time Lord relationship in Doctor Who, verbal tutorials on how to tune and play a brass instrument in B-flat, and descriptions of his own masturbation habits (an average of twice a day and three times on Sundays). Even when he doesn't scare people away with his nerdiness and/or complete lack of social boundaries, Chuck rarely feels like he "clicks" with people he has just met, and he finds it difficult to build up friendships. Much of his difficulty in instant connections comes from Chuck's reluctance to expose himself, which he expresses in his body language. Eye contact - not even prolonged eye contact, just eye contact in general - makes him uncomfortable, and he carries himself awkwardly.
He isn't insensitive; his Quaker upbringing gave Chuck a sense of values and respect for all people. However, he has a severely impaired sense of human empathy, which means that he can't really pick up on other people's feelings and might seem cold. He tends to intellectualize human interaction, although he has trouble with execution in real-life situations. Mentally, he knows that a frown signals unhappiness, and crying signifies an even greater degree. Practically, when confronted with a downturned mouth or tears streaming down cheeks, Chuck will have trouble understanding the depths of such emotions, and even more trouble trying to help. He's even intellectualized humor and, despite his best attempts to do the same for figurative language, he has a tentative grasp on it, at best. He understands it when people say certain phrases they don't mean literally, but he rarely, if ever, uses such expressions on his own. He is similarly impaired when discussing his own feelings. He's so far from in tune with them that they might not even be his, most of the time.
Throughout his childhood, Chuck encountered many moments when people around him were talking, he butted in on the conversation, and the converses told him to "shut up. We weren't talking to you." He still has them every so often, and it's because of this that he's grown skeptical about the idea of having friends who actually like him and want to be around him. He often feels ignored and, as such, will repeat himself often, just to make sure. Chuck desperately wants to be liked and accepted, to the point where he's easily manipulated by others. He tries to latch onto people he thinks will accept him, and to varying degrees of success. He doesn't know when he's not wanted until it's been put to him bluntly, which makes it all the worse. Frustrated with feeling unwanted, Chuck wonders if he's ever going to find a close interpersonal relationship, as much as he would like one. It's because of this that he's thrown himself into escapist sci-fi TV and nonfiction books. He also tries to branch out and be wild, but it's obvious that the people he pretends to be aren't him.
An engineering major, Chuck is extremely logically-minded, and would fit in well at MIT. Unfortunately, the university is trying to steer away from the image as being a haven for socially retarded nerds and, seeing as how Chuck is the very definition of a socially retarded nerd, that didn't work in his favor. Chuck knows he's smart, and that's why it's hard for him to understand why he has so much trouble socially. He feels like he's got a lot of knowledge and insight to give, but other people can't hear it. Sometimes, he wonders if he's too smart for his own good. No, that's not it, honey. You'll figure it out eventually.
Played-By: Christopher Mintz-Plasse
the obligatory bit
Cinderella's prince lacked the social graces to ask a girl her name before he fell head over heels in love with her, and had to later identify her by her shoe size. There's precedent for princes with people problems, but they've never been so bad as now. Chuck is about as far from princely as a guy could get. He's short, skinny, socially retarded, and sometimes a bit annoying. However, he has a princely sense of honor. As much as he would like to cash in his V-card, for instance, Chuck could never take advantage of a drunken sorority girl, nor would he ever have a meaningless hook-up. Well, if anyone ever wanted to have a meaningless hook-up with him, which doesn't seem likely. Chuck has a very romanticized picture of love that he may never experience in real life, even if he does ever convince a girl to date him.
The prince was charismatic enough to get Cinderella to fall in love with him, despite his lack of social know-how and the fact that he didn't know the first thing about her until he was ready to propose. Chuck often wishes he'd somehow inherited his tale's charisma. It's hard for him to have over 300 years of memories of being (relatively) smooth with the ladies, and then to be completely unable to apply any of his experience practically. Also, he has a thing for feet. Not that he would ever admit it. Wait, what am I saying? Of course he would.