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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:29:02 GMT -5
Hello All,
Well here we are… I’m sure you’ve all been enjoying the holidays, and indeed so have I. In fact, I’ve enjoyed them a little more than I anticipated; our house is slightly fuller than I originally expected, with a few more guests. This has been great with regard to catching up with everyone, but not so great when it comes to working on our traditional Christmas bit of fun and nonsense.
To put it bluntly, it’s a couple of chapters short of a tale. So, I’ll be posting up the first half tonight, and the second a couple of days from now when the remaining parts are completed. I hope that as no one’s waiting for a result or their own storyline progression that this won’t cause too many problems. After all, as we always say, personal life comes first….
So anyway, as is always the case, this episode is not in any way related to the fed itself. It’s not easy trying to write in so many characters, and of course some people feature more than others, but I’ve done my best to interpret people’s characters as seems appropriate, and if there are a few rough edges, I hope you’ll be kind enough to ignore them. I hope that this short story provides a little entertainment for you all during the break.
P.S. If you’re not in the first half, you will be in the second.
P.P.S. Those who haven’t put real names on their profile have been given “alternative” real names by me. In case you were wondering.
If you recall, we last saw our merry band at the conclusion of Winter Discontent…..
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:29:59 GMT -5
December 20th, 2005
There was, Ginger thought to himself, something rather hedonistic about eating Christmas Cake lying on a sunlounger, looking at a sky that was bluer than the buttocks of a frozen smurf.
Winter Discontent, in fact the whole ACW Tour, had been an amazing success; and everyone had been in a celebratory mood as they traipsed on to their 747 for the long flight back across the Pacific and North America. Somewhat predictably, the roster had enthusiastically taken advantage of the airline’s hospitality, and to his dismay, Ginger had discovered that his efforts to confiscate all copies of works by the Beach Boys had been foiled by the delights of a Tokyo internet café and an Ipod Nano. So it was in fact a relief that AK’s “It’s just a big Volvo, why can’t I fly it?” monologue was cut short by the captain announcing that there was a problem indicator illuminated in the cockpit, and that the flight would be landing at the closest available airstrip.
The nearest airstrip in fact turned out to be located in Hawaii. With the flight cancelled and alternatives scarce, and stuck with a busload of cheerfully inebriated wrestlers, Ginger had opted to let everyone rest off the effects; the only accommodation left on the island that could house them all was a five star hotel complex. Fretting a little at the impact on the corporate credit card, Ginger had wisely decided to worry about the costs later, and so the group had found themselves being treated to a three day pre-Christmas break in the lap of luxury.
Most of the roster was arranged around and in the pool, enjoying the fine weather; as Ginger reapplied his sunblock, he was half blinded by the sunlight reflecting off of Hunter’s World Title belt. Hunter was using this as an effective placemarker while he was doing a few leisurely circuits of the pool, and he kicked up a wave of spray as he passed that had those situated close to the edge gesturing at him in a less than polite manner. Hunter smirked, but got his just desserts almost immediately as Santiago came dashing out of the hotel interior, grinning and trailing a long length of tie-dyed cotton behind him.
“Give me back my sarong!” yelled Rena, who came dashing after him. Santiago took evasive action, bombing into the pool and creating a surge that swept over Hunter, soaking his head and making him splutter. The two men proceeded to start slapping water at one another, and as Rena picked up her garment, AK sashayed around the corner carrying a cropped wetsuit over one arm.
“What are those two up to?” she asked. Rena just shrugged. “Hon, you’re asking the wrong girl. I’m an expert in men, not children…”
AK shook her head, and walked back over toward the free sunlounger next to Ginger. “How was your jetski session?” Ginger asked, stretching out and turning over to start tanning his back. AK put her things down. “Oh, not bad… it was great, but I think I might have overcooked the engine just a tad at the end.” In the distance, a small plume of smoke was rising from the beach; Ginger decided to extend his informal ban on AK having contact with motor vehicles to include anything with more than 2 cylinders. In fact, he mused, it might be marginally less expensive to have her handcuffed to a burly security guard at all times outside of matches…
AK was blissfully unaware of this; she got comfy on the sunlounger, and relaxed under the warm rays of the sun. Sounds of laughter were all around; it was nice, she thought, to see everyone chilling for once. As Jonny performed a graceful swan dive into the water, the pacific sun began to make AK sleepy; Rena’s earlier words floated lazily and mingled with the other sounds. “Like children….” AK thought drowsily; “Well, maybe not children…. Teenagers, maybe…. Yeah, I can picture that……”
As she dropped off to doze, that scene became more than a notion; it became a dream…..
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:32:03 GMT -5
The street outside the imposing high school building resembled the world’s most disorganised parking lot; cars were pulling in, reversing and generally getting in each other’s way as they fought to reach the sidewalk. Through the melee, a plain blue sedan emerged, and its door swung open. After a few moments, the occupant of the passenger seat slowly got out, dragging his school bag behind him. With his eyes wandering across the concrete, he mumbled a goodbye to the person in the driver’s seat, and pushed the door shut.
Randy Kanyon shouldered his bag, and took a look at the scene before him. It was, of course, a scene he’d viewed many times before; he’d been attending Albert Cecil Wellingborough High School since the 9th grade. “Albert Cecil” was not like just any High School; located in Upstate New York near the coast, it was the educational establishment of choice for international students whose parents were employed in various capacities in New York City. Added to this, it also attracted students from across the 50 states who were aiming for the Ivy League universities, as its record on such admissions was second to none.
Keeping his gaze somewhere between navel height and the ground, Randy started to walk toward the main building. He heard snatches of conversation in many languages as he passed by; but he did not stop to talk to any of the people he passed. It wasn’t that Randy was some kind of anti – social hermit; he had simply never been that gregarious, and only made friends slowly. If the truth was told, Randy was quite a shy type, and never the centre of attention, but really that was what suited him.
It took persistence to push your way through the crowds of people in the corridors; Randy sighed as he found what looked like a public meeting taking place in front of his locker, but in fact was just a load of 10th graders chatting about lord knows what. As was often the case, Randy attempted to make his way through the group, but it was as if he was invisible, and he found it difficult to raise his voice and tell them to move; fortunately, help arrived in the form of one of Randy’s small circle of friends. Not that “small” was a word ever applied to the new arrival…
“Hey, hey! Haven’t you guys got somewhere else to be? Coming through!”
The cluster melted at once as Tyler Stevens advanced his seven foot frame toward them. Tyler was in fact one of the kindest and friendliest people you could wish to meet, but he was also one of the largest, not only in the 11th grade but in the whole school, and his sheer size almost always caused people to defer to him in the semi-feral environment of High School. He gave Randy a smile of greeting as they both started to extract their books from their lockers.
“Did you have a good summer?” asked Tyler, wrinkling his nose as he discovered a long lost gym sock hibernating beneath his textbooks.
“Yeah, I guess Bro.” Randy gave his things a shove in the hope that the locker was bigger than it looked. “I was back in Yellowknife most of the time. Did lots of swimming in the lake.”
“Wasn’t it cold?”
“Well sure it was cold, but you get used to it after a few minutes. What did you spend your time doing?”
Tyler’s eyes lit up.
“Oh man, you should have seen it! We went over to Greece, I saw all these amazing ruins like you wouldn’t believe! It was totally rad.”
“You and your history, Bro. One of these days you’ll discover a new civilisation, or something.”
The clanging of the bell triggered an instant exodus from the corridors; Tyler and Randy slammed their lockers shut and hurried along to their class for registration. On opening the door, a blast of noise swept over them, and they were rocked a little by it before they headed for their desks. Tyler’s was at the back of the room, by necessity as no one could see past his frame; Randy’s desk was a little further forward in the second – to – back row. He’d selected it carefully as the area least likely to attract the teacher’s attention; Randy was certainly not a poor student, but he disliked having attention thrust upon him if he could avoid it; it was as if everyone was staring directly into his soul…
“Earth to Randy! How’ve you been, love?”
The occupant of the desk directly to Randy’s left put down her book and gave him a gentle smile, which Randy reciprocated. He dropped his bag to the floor, and sat down, leaning back.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:32:37 GMT -5
“Good, thanks. How was Summer?”
Alicia rolled her eyes.
“Wet. Of all the places in the world there are to go, I end up sent back to flaming Kent. Kent! The arse end of nowhere… thank god it’s September.”
Randy just laughed. He and Alicia had drifted together almost by accident; neither was especially outgoing, and they quickly formed an arrangement to work together in class when instructed to pair up, so as to save themselves the agony of trying to push into other established groups. Though their interests were different, they found that they shared a slightly skewed sense of humor, and mutually beneficial action slowly bloomed into genuine friendship. Neither of them flinched as a paper plane sailed over their heads, and they both looked around the room at the rest of their class, who were arranged haphazardly all over it.
In the corner at the back opposite them, a small cluster of people were laughing loudly. Though they came from a wide variety of backgrounds, their general confidence and ambition to have a good time in spite of the intentions of the school system had drawn them together. There was Dan, the welsh soccer fanatic; Jake, attending on an athletics scholarship and hailing from Hong Kong; Jonny, the technical expert and gaming guru; Davey, a naturally good looking guy who attracted plenty of attention from the giggling girl contingent, and the slightly enigmatic William Carlton Wilberforce, who much preferred to be known simply as “WCW”. Frequent visitors to the Principal’s office, their extraordinary ability to avoid serious punishment had gained them the collective moniker of the “Untouchables”, a title they relished.
The noise coming from the far corner was not appreciated by everyone; near the front of the class, a well presented young man scanned the daily paper and sighed. Steve Philips was unaware that he was being watched; from a row or two back, Rena Matheson was regarding him with a practiced eye and quietly deciding where to place him in her rankings of all the guys in the class. Rena was one of the “in” crowd, a person whom others naturally gravitated to. In her earlier years she’d been somewhat too proud of her status, but as she matured the more attractive side of her nature came to the fore, and she was the kind of person that others would come to with their problems. A second girl came and sat next to her, and Rena’s face was illuminated with a smile; she and Kiley were great friends. They both giggled as a guy with earphones apparently welded to his head came and sat down a few seats away; Kiley gave BK a wave, and BK absent mindedly waved back at her, causing more giggling from the girls.
The class abruptly sorted itself out as the bell rang a second time, and with exquisite timing, their form tutor entered the room. The woman was in her early thirties, her oriental features smooth as ice; but the cool exterior was thawed by a quiet smile, and the room came at once to order.
“Good Morning, Everyone. Welcome to the 1st semester of the 95/96 school year.”
“Good Morning, Ms Satoshi” the students chorused back. Ms Satoshi inclined her head a little, and then looked over her charges with a practiced eye.
“I am pleased to see you all returned safely from your vacations,” she said. The class remained respectfully still; they had learned in the previous year that their teacher was truly someone to be respected, when one of that year’s 12th graders had tried to get a little too handy with their fists against a rival. Ms Satoshi had not only prevented the assault, but used a restraining hold that had left the errant 12th grader in no doubt who was in charge, and ever since the class had been doing their best to find out how their tutor had gained her mastery of such skills. On this topic, alas, she remained mysteriously silent.
“This is an important year for you all,” Ms Satoshi continued. “You are leaving childhood behind, and entering the first stages of your adult lives… there will be many challenges, but also many moments to treasure. I urge you, to make the most of all the opportunities that you will have this year… for you may find that what you are about to experience will influence the path you take into the future.”
The class pondered this lightly; they did not yet know that this year was going to be one of the most interesting of their lives.
“Now,” said Ms Satoshi, “Let me take the roll call…”
The class began to answer to their names, and so began the new High School Year.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:33:41 GMT -5
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It was about a week later when the plan was hatched; it was lunchtime, and with the autumn sun still warm, the students were eating outside, scattered around the tables provided. Rena was holding court with several of the other girls from her year, and as was so often the case, the talk was about who fancied who, people who were single and “taken”, and all the other minutae of everyone’s social life.
“I mean,” said Kiley, “I know he’s got these big dreams and everything, and I respect it and all, it’s just… I wish he’d make a little more time for me.”
Rena rolled her eyes. “Oh, honey, this is how all guys are. I’ve seen the way BK looks at you, and when the pair of you are together, it’s just magic.”
Kiley smiled. “You think it will work out?”
“No doubt in my mind at all. When have I ever been wrong? Just call me Dr. Love.”
The girls laughed. “I ain’t arguing, girl,” chuckled Kiley. “You’re the one who gave me the confidence to go and talk to him in the first place, remember? You always know how to get people together.”
Rena blushed. “I guess it’s just a natural gift.”
“Oh yeah?” The voice came from behind them, and Rena and the others turned to find that they had been joined by a male student. His dark hair was blown about by the wind, partially obscuring the glint in his eye. Rena put a hand to her hips.
“Hey, I know you…. You call yourself “Tornado”, right? You transferred here over the summer.”
“That’s right.” His Manchester accent contrasted with Rena’s own smooth tones. “I overheard your conversation… so you think that you’re some kind of relationship specialist?”
Rena could tell that this conversation was going somewhere interesting. “I just help people get together. Most people have a lot more in common than they realise.”
The discussion was rudely interrupted by the sound of doors banging open; Rena and the others looked up to see what all the noise was about. Exiting the building was a small group of guys, and in the center of them….
“Ohhh, he’s… so hot!” sighed Eva, putting a hand on her cheek. Rena just smiled as the group stopped just short of them. The young man in the centre ran a hand through his hair and then scratched the stubble that was just starting to appear on his chin.
“Hey there, mamacitas!” He flashed them a dazzling smile.
“Hello, Victor.” Rena and Victor’s eyes met; they’d had a whirlwind “romance” a couple of years back, but it had been clear to them then that friendship was the best option, and that friendship had remained strong. “What have you all been up to?”
“IT class. It was a breeze… Kudo, Tornado and I spent most of the time doing graphics.”
Kiley smirked. “You and your computers… you seriously think that this internet thing is going to take off?”
Tornado stuck his oar in. “Hey, if you want to join us in the 90s babe, feel free… I read that they’ll be able to run modems at 56kbps per second in the next couple of years! Can you imagine that?”
Most of the girls were already switching off, and Kudo elbowed Tornado in the gut. “Victor, Tornado and I are going to get in the lunch queue. Catch us up, ok?”
Victor gave a “Yeah, sure” gesture, and Kudo made the ladies blush and giggle again by giving a formal Japanese bow. As they left, Eva plucked up the courage to speak.
“Uh… Victor? You heard about the Winter Ball, right?”
Victor looked puzzled, and then the requisite information popped into his head. “Oh, yeah! Saw the notice just the other day…..” Eva continued to stare hopefully, but her intention went right over Victor’s head. “It sounds cool… I guess I’ll have to find one lucky lady to take with me. Of course, the competition’s going to be tight… still, such is my burden.” Eva’s face fell, and she shrank back behind the rest of the girls; Victor was not a cruel guy, but like many young men he just totally failed to realise the impact of his words. Rena, however, was more than aware of what had just transpired.
“Anyway, gotta run… see you ladies later.” Victor gave them another smile, and strolled off; Eva had composed herself very well, but Rena still moved around and gave her a hug.
“It’s not fair!” wailed Eva. “He has no idea what it’s like… he’s one of the really cool people, he can have any girl he wants. He has no idea what it’s like for the rest of us.”
Rena’s mind was whirring. “You know, I think you’re right. I-“
She was once again interrupted, this time by angry yelling.
“You TWAT!” shouted Alicia, as her books scattered all over the floor. “Can’t you get your head out of the clouds while you’re walking?”
Victor scowled back at her, and bit his lip to stop himself saying something impolite back. “I wasn’t doing anything! You walked into me!”
“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, how could I even think about selfishly occupying half an inch of pavement? Your ego takes up all the room there is.” Alicia finished picking up her books; Victor folded his arms.
“I’m not going to argue. You only see what you want to see. Now, excuse me, please.”
Victor went through the door, slamming it behind him. Alicia was still flushed red, though by now it was hard to tell whether it was due to anger or embarrassment. She hurried away, unaware that Rena and the other ladies had seen it all.
“Whoa,” said Kiley, “those two haven’t got on since the first time they met one another. Now there’s a mismatch for you…”
Rena smiled. “Do you think so? I’m not so sure… but we’re going to find out. Eva, you might get your wish after all.”
All the girls leaned in close, and their eyes widened as Rena explained her scheme…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:34:33 GMT -5
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Of course, Rena wasn’t the only person with affairs of the heart on her mind, and Eva was not alone in having concealed feelings. As the term continued, it became more and more obvious to Randy’s friends that something was bothering him, and it was only when Tyler spotted him gazing forlornly across their math class that it became clear what the root of the problem was. When recess was called, he wasted no time in finding out more.
“Charlotte? The girl with the freckles?” Tyler showed how seriously he was taking the situation by putting his copy of Ancient Indo-Chinese civilisations and their deities back in his bag. Randy toyed with his Reece’s Cups and gave a deep sigh.
“She’s got such a great smile, bro. When she enters the room, I find myself drawn to her…”
“Well, why don’t you go and say hi?” Tyler knew he’d put his foot in it the moment the words had left his lips; Randy just shook his head and laughed, but it was a sad laugh. “I did try that, once – she barely noticed me, and then her girlfriends showed up and I couldn’t get another word in edgeways.”
“Oh, the very essence of unrequited love! I can just SEE it shimmering on the screen!”
Randy and Tyler turned their heads to the side, already knowing what they would see. “Still looking for the subject of your first feature, Andrew?” said Tyler, rolling his eyes theatrically. Andrew Hunter shot him back a glance, indicating that this was about the 287th time someone had asked him that.
“Art can happen anywhere and anywhen, my friend. A master filmmaker is always prepared.” Andrew fiddled with the zoom on his camcorder as Randy and Tyler sniggered, but then they were quickly silenced as the very object of their previous conversation walked up to her locker no more than 10 feet away.
“She’s alone… go on, man, what do you have to lose? No one here is looking-“ Tyler ensured that this was indeed the case by swiping Andrew’s camera, and holding it above his head. The other people in the corridor started to laugh as Andrew jumped around, trying and failing to retrieve his equipment, and gathering his courage. Randy slipped down along by the lockers until he was next to Charlotte.
“Looks like Andrew didn’t offer Tyler a good enough cut of the profits,” he ventured. Charlotte laughed prettily, and turned to look at him. Randy could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “Hey, it’s Randy isn’t it?”
She knows my name! Randy’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh, yeah, that’s right. Umm… that looks like a lot of books you’ve got there. Can I carry them for you?”
Charlotte smiled; she was old enough and wise enough now to recognise where Randy was trying to take the conversation, and he was kind of cute, if a little quiet. “Sure, I-“
Charlotte’s books were lifted out of her hands, but not by Randy. His eyeline was filled with a blue shirt and the top of a sculpted set of pecs, and he looked upward to find himself staring at the chiselled features of another guy.
“Charlie, babe, sorry I’m late.” The guy leaned forward, and gave her a peck on the cheek; Charlotte smiled back, and gave Randy an apologetic glance. Randy’s heart was already in his shoes; Trent Norwood-Thane, known to everyone as “TNT” due to his explosive performances on the football field and in the amateur wrestling ring was one of the school’s sporting heroes. There was no way an average guy like Randy Kanyon could possibly compete with the likes of him, and he was already taking a step back. In the background, Tyler had seen what was going on; his eyes met those of TNT for just a fraction of a second, conveying to him the consequences that would result if he should attempt to physically “discourage” Randy in any way.
Not that this was likely, of course; the worst thing as far as Randy was concerned was that TNT was not your stereotypical idiot Jock. TNT placed his other arm around Charlotte’s shoulder, and turned her around as they started to walk away. “Thanks anyway,” Charlotte called over her shoulder; “Yeah, appreciate it Junior” added TNT as they disappeared into the crowd.
It wasn’t meant as an insult, but it still cut Randy to the quick; he shuffled back toward his own locker, wondering if this was going to be the pattern of the rest of his high school days, and turned his thoughts to the delights of chemistry to come
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:35:30 GMT -5
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Surprising as it may seem, there were other things to occupy the minds of our young protagonists besides love and lust. About three weeks into the semester, the bunfight masquerading as “political experience” known as class elections was held. For two or three days everyone was gossiping about who would put themselves forward as candidates for class president, but there was one person whom most people reckoned had the job sewn up before the hustings even took place.
Steve Philips was one of the brighter sparks in the class. His parents came from a legal background, and so his genes were primed for public speaking. Even so, it wasn’t until his teenage years that he began to take an interest in the political spectrum; at one point it had seemed that he was destined for a career on the stage, and his dramatic instincts were superb. He could often be found pontificating on a range of subjects, usually with a small audience gathered around; this was not only because he was a popular and interesting person, but also because a sneaky listener could use his well – informed speeches as pseudo research for assignments that had been handed out. This of course was not lost on the speaker, and Steve occasionally gave rein to his less mature inclinations, by slipping in a “fact” or two that was completely absurd. When these were picked up by listeners, everyone got a good laugh from seeing what happened when the culprits received back their papers…
In fact, the electoral process was turning out to be far more entertaining than anyone had predicted, and this was in essence due to an unexpected candidate coming forward to challenge the verbal virtuoso. The rest of the class were now enjoying watching these two titans of debate sparring, with Ms. Satoshi keeping a watchful eye on proceedings.
“……and that, my friends, is why I would introduce a rota system to ensure timely cleaning of the class blackboards.” Steve placed his hands on the teacher’s desk, and leaned forward as the rest of the group applauded. “My esteemed opponent has the floor.” He stood back, and all eyes were turned to focus on the person on the other side of the room next to the window.
They waited, with baited breath.
And waited.
And waited…. Until Santiago, who was closest, took the initiative. “Garth! It’s your turn!”
Garrh seemed to snap back into the waking world with a start. “Yeah, yeah, right, cool… what were we talking about?” Everyone laughed; Garth seemed to be running on an entirely different internal clock to everyone else, which had led him to gain the nickname “Gooey” in reference to the supposed state of his brain. In fact, the wiser members of the class knew differently; Garth’s laid-back attitude concealed a highly inventive mind, and he sometimes came out with ideas that were profound, if a little on the bizarre side at times.
“Garth, if you wouldn’t mind…..” Ms Satoshi’s voice was gentle, but firm. Garth straightened up, and took a good look at the people in front of him.
“Uh, yeah. It’s all good, you know, what Steve said, I’m not gonna put a downer on it or anything.” Garth scratched his chin. “But, like, we could do so much more, more stuff. Cakes. Yeah, cakes are good. We could take turns to bring cakes, wait, no, we can do better, how about biscuits? Chocolate biscuits! Who here is in favour of biscuits?”
There was a loud cheer from most of the rest of the room. Garth grinned; he was on a roll.
“Whoa, hold on! I see the ladies in the front, you’re worrying about your waistlines aren’t you? Well, as your representative, I see and ACT! I promise each of you….”
The group waited with baited breath; Garth paused for dramatic effect.
“……….a Kitten!”
A wave of shrieks of delight swept across the room. Steve stood up at once, determined to face down this preposterous proposal. “You can’t promise people kittens! You can’t possibly deliver that!”
Garth folded his arms. “Politicians promise stuff all the time, man, and then don’t actually do it. But people still vote for them. Anyway, I CAN get kittens. Haven’t you seen all those poor little abandoned ones in rescue homes?
A cry of “awwww” was heard from the more sensitive members of the class. Steve gave Ms Satoshi a look; Ms Satoshi just smiled back with a “who said the electorate was educated?” expression. Steve straightened his tie.
“Very well, Mr. Garth. If that’s the way you want to play it, you have forced my hand.” The attention of the room was immediately focused back on him. “Vote for me, my most esteemed classmates, for a vote for Steve Philips is a vote for… Puppies!”
The fickle crowd had swung back entirely in Steve’s favour. Garth knew a game of one-upmanship when he saw it, but he was not beaten yet. “Oh yeah? Well, vote for me, and get a… pony!”
“A pony? Why aceppt half measures? Friends, classmates, countrymen and others, I promise you horses!”
“…..Cows!”
“Buffalo!”
“Parrots! That talk, man!”
“Eagles!”
“Cougars!”
“Lions!”
“Tigers!”
“….and Bears, oh my!”
By now, the room was a riot of laughter, and even Steve and Garth were unable to contain their mutual amusement. Ms. Satoshi raised her hand, and brought the class to order.
“I believe that you’ve both made your point, gentlemen. It remains to be seen how successful your appeals to your classmates have been… but I think that your performances have been most engaging, even if some of the policies leave a little to be desired.”
Steve and Garth shook hands, accepting the applause from their admittedly friendly audience. When the election results were counted, Steve deservedly took the majority vote as had truthfully been expected all along; but his first act was to appoint Garth as “class minister for fun”, a most popular decision.
In the end, Garth did go to the rescue centre, and brought back a pair of gerbils as a compromise. At Steve’s suggestion, they were named Bill and Hilary.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:40:49 GMT -5
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Sometimes, important discoveries can stem from the most unlikely sources. Randy Kanyon did not particularly subscribe to the notion of fate, but perhaps there was something mysterious acting the day that he accidentally struck a baseball into the parking lot and broke a window on the vice-principal’s car. Vice Principal Curtis was not amused, and Randy ended up with an hour’s detention after school. So the halls were empty when he was eventually released, and he cut a slightly lonely figure as he headed for the doors.
As he was leaving, he saw a figure struggling with a large number of boxes in his arms, and Randy was never one to ignore a person who needed help. He hurried over and took two of the four boxes, relieving the load considerably.
“Thankyou, I much grateful.”
Randy smiled; Mr. Rana had never quite mastered perfect English. Some of the nastier kids teased him about it, but Randy thought it was actually quite cool. “No problem, Mr Rana sir. Where can I carry them for you?”
“Janitor’s closet. Please to follow.”
They walked down the hall; the floor was still a little damp where the Janitor had cleaned it. Mr. Rana looked around him at the displays of work on the walls. “Is good to see, no? So much chances, so much… what is word? Like cooking vessel.”
“Um… Pot?... oh, Potential!”
“Yes yes, Potential. All young peoples here have potential. To make dreams happen. You have dream?”
Randy laughed. “Yeah, doesn’t everyone? I want to be a Police officer, there’s lots of them in my family…”
He trailed off; once again, his self consciousness rose to the fore. Mr. Rana furrowed his brow. “You have worries? But you look like smart boy. And kind too. So why sadness?”
Randy bit his lip. “I… well…”
Mr. Rana looked almost guilty. “I so sorry, is not my business. Please forgive my nose.” Randy couldn’t help smiling, and then laughing, and it seemed to release something in his head. “No, don’t worry about it. I just find it hard to talk to people. I mean, I have all these words I want to say, but they just won’t come out right. I guess I’m scared of what people will think of me. I know it sounds stupid.”
“Is not stupid. I know feelings like this.”
Mr. Rana paused, as if considering something important. They had reached the Janitor’s closet, which was really a small room.
“Can you keep secret?”
Randy put the boxes down, and nodded. For some reason, he really wanted to know what Mr. Rana was talking about. “I promise.”
Mr. Rana unlocked the door, and carried his boxes in. Randy followed him; the little room was crowded with mops, buckets, and other equipment, but there was also an old chair there. Mr. Rana stood on this, and pulled down a cardboard box from a high shelf. It was covered in dust, and made Randy cough as it was opened.
“When I was young man in Mexico, I was quiet boy too,” said Mr. Rana. “I had big dream, to be strong Mexican Luchadore. You know what Luchadore is?”
Randy’s eyes grew wider. “Sure I do! Luchadores are lightweight wrestlers, they’re awesome!” His mind already racing ahead, he was looking at the Janitor much more closely; the man was in his early 50s, with plenty of grey mixed into his black hair and eyebrows, but it was blindingly obvious now that he was physically in great shape. When he was young, his physique must have been incredible.
“You… you were a luchardore? That’s amazing!” Randy’s voice was brimming over with an awe and respect that could not be faked, and Mr. Rana smiled, pride infusing his features. “Is most kind of you to say… here, I have photos. I show you.”
Randy peered eagerly at the photographs. They were mostly in black and white, but one was in colour; it stood out at once, showing what Randy assumed must be Mr. Rana standing on the turnbuckle of a wrestling ring holding up a large and ornate belt. The emerald green of his suit practically leapt off the page, but what really attracted Randy’s attention was the mask that Mr. Rana was wearing. It too was green, with oversized bulbous eyes that made him look almost reptilian.
“I worked very hard on learning moves,” said Mr. Rana, touching the photograph, “was hard work, but I enjoy it. But I had big problem with crowds… the noise, all faces, it make my head spin. So I find way to protect myself.”
Randy looked stumped. “Protect yourself? I don’t understand….”
“Many luchadores wear masks, is tradition. When I put on mask, I become different person. So if crowd boos this other person, is not the same as if they boo me. Time passes, I learn not to be afraid so much. I not very good actor, but I very good luchadore. Win many titles.”
He brushed a little more dust away from the book.
“You see American wrestling?”
Randy nodded.
“Not many luchadores in America. But wrestlers still wear masks. Masks you not see. You make mask for you too, mask in your head. Be different person, not be scared so much. You see?”
“I…. think so.” Randy handed the book back to Mr. Rana. “Thanks, I’ll think about what you said. Can I help with anything else?”
“No, is good. Thankyou much.”
“Thankyou, sir.” Randy turned and headed toward the door, which was only a step or two away. “Um…. Would you mind if… If I came and saw you again another day?”
“Me not mind at all. I be very pleased to see you.”
Mr. Rana smiled, and Randy smiled back before letting himself out. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy… but he was determined to at least try.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:43:20 GMT -5
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“Sport is NOT a game! It is the essence of life! So let me see you put your backs into it! Three laps of the track! Move it!”
Most of the class groaned as their fiery PT master, Mr. Fleming, blew sharply into his whistle. They set off in a straggly line, with the Untouchables at the back. This was by no means a new phenomenon.
Jake and Jonny amused themselves by trying to shove one another out of the way and prove that they were the most buff of the group; WCW and Dan were engaging in yet another discussion of the Premiership table and the relative merits of its teams, which seemed to involve copious use of the words “I could have scored three goals against that shit defence”. Davey just chuckled and jogged along at the very back, watching all this go on, when he was suddenly aware of someone running alongside him.
“Hello there, Davey.” Rena smiled; Davey smiled back, and did his best not to gaze at Rena’s chest which was bouncing in a most gratifying manner. “Why hello there Rena… and to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
Rena giggled. She liked Davey very much; not only was he good looking, he had a wicked sense of humor. Which, Rena hoped, would make him agreeable to what she was about to propose.
“I wondered if you wanted to come with me to the movies on Friday night, I’ve got two free tickets and no one to take me.” Davey’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to.” Rena smiled back at him; ahead of them, several people were glancing back over their shoulders to see what was going on, and rather liking the view. “That’s great… not that it’s a condition or anything, but do you think you could help me out with a little problem I have?” Rena fluttered her eyelashes.
“Depends what it is.” Davey was no fool; having used his charms on impressionable girls himself, he knew to listen carefully to any request. Rena gave him a sly grin, and then shot a glance at the people looking back at her. “Mind your own business, you guys, or I’ll tell Mr. Fleming that you’re slacking.” With a groan the voyeurs turned their eyes forward again, and Rena moved a little closer to Davey. Quietly, she outlined what she wanted. Davey’s reaction was to laugh loud enough to attract everyone’s attention again.
“It’ll never work, not in a million years. Anyway, why do you want me – I mean US – to do this?
“Because if I try it, he’ll see right through me. You have credibility.”
“Hrmph! I consider myself to be completely incredible, I’ll have you know.”
Davey’s grin gave him away, and Rena gave him a shove back. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Davey sighed. “I can tell you won’t give me a moment’s peace if I don’t. All right… I’ll talk to the rest of the guys, and if they agree, we’ll do it.”
Rena beamed, and practically skipped along joyfully. Her motion caused eyeballs to pop everywhere within visual range, and at the front someone tripped, causing a mass pile up of bodies. Amongst the shouts of surprise, Davey and Rena heard two particular voices.
“You can’t get enough of me, can you sweetcakes? NOW who’s the clumsy one?”
“Oh, get knotted Victor! As if I’d voluntarily fall at your feet…”
Davey gave Rena a look. “I’d better be getting popcorn and soda at the movies. This is going to tax even my skills…”
The sound of Mr. Fleming’s whistle drowned out any further conversation, and the group picked itself up before setting off again on their weary way.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:45:04 GMT -5
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Sometime in early October, the class got a chance at some Driver’s Ed classes.
The results were too disastrous for words.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:46:11 GMT -5
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Randy had had a week or so to think about his encounter with Mr. Rana when the next significant event occurred. With a couple of periods free, he had decided to chance his luck in the computer suite, in the hope that a PC would be available. Expecting an enormous queue, he arrived to discover that the room was indeed very busy, but with plenty of work to complete Randy had little choice but to wait. As he hovered by the door, however, the school librarian passed by, and Randy held open the door for him.
“Thank you… Randy, is it?”
“Yes, Mr. Dwight. You’re welcome.”
Mr. Dwight cast a glance into the packed computer room. “Are you waiting for a machine? I believe that there’s one free in the small study room next to the library, if you don’t mind sharing with someone who’s making a bit of noise. He’s in there so he doesn’t disturb anyone else, but as long as you’re very quiet I don’t think you’d be in his way. What do you think?”
Randy looked at the computer room. It was seemingly full of seventh graders who hadn’t yet mastered the art of typing, and were most likely going to be there a long time yet. “Sure, thanks. That sounds great.”
Randy followed the librarian up to the second floor. Mr. Dwight was affectionately known as “textbook” because of his almost encyclopaedic knowledge of school subjects; he could be a little cool on first meeting someone, but the students who persevered found him to be a friendly and almost limitless source of useful information. He indicated the room with a nid of his head; Randy could hear the pulse of a thumping beat within.
Slowly, he eased the door open, and was met with a voice of striking clarity and power…
”It’s tha B to tha K, here he is y’all With the rhythm and the sway, it’s the biz y’all! All the guys want to be me, I’m the main attraction, Ladies scream when they see me, wanna get some action! Got a mind as sharp as steel, cuttin’ tracks to shake you down, Ain’t enough to be a player, cause I’m the biggest game in town-
The backing ground to a halt, and Randy could hear what sounded like someone cursing softly under their breath. He eased himself into the room, and saw a familiar figure hunched over a keyboard connected to a computer.
“Backing’s not flowing right, dammit….” BK had been concentrating so completely that he hadn’t noticed Randy enter. He visibly jumped when Randy put a hand tentatively on his shoulder. “Jeez! What are you doing in here?”
“Sorry, Bro,” Randy was most apologetic. “Textbook said I could work in here if I didn’t make any noise… I’ll go if I’m in the way.” BK had got over his surprise, and shook his head. “Nah, it’s OK. I’m not used to having an audience, that’s all.” His voice was much quieter now, and the tone completely different, the one that Randy recognised from knowing BK over the last few years.
“That rap you were doing… it was, well, so powerful.” Randy was deeply impressed, and BK seemed to blush a little, though his ebony complexion hid the physical effect of this. “Thanks. I’ve been working on it, can’t be a big star unless you got the voice to make people believe what you’re saying, you get me?” Randy nodded in agreement, and BK seemed to be warming to his topic. “It’s all about the attitude, see. You gotta sell yourself, show people what you got inside you. And I’ve got a lot inside me, man. That’s why I spend every minute I get to myself writing, performing, doing it all. I’m not just going to be another guy who had a dream and let it die. I’m going to grab my dream and make it real.” Randy had no doubt at all that what BK was saying was true; he was the kind of guy that put 100% into everything that he did. “I wish I had your confidence, Bro. I know you’re going to be a huge star one day. I can’t wait to see it.”
BK smiled; though he had no lack of quiet confidence, sincere praise was still very welcome. “Thanks, man, I appreciate that.” He pressed a few more buttons on the PC, and a “compiling” message appeared on the screen. “Damn 386 processors… the school board’s too tight to pay for those new Pentium machines.” He sat down and folded his arms, as if in the hope that staring at the PC would make it run faster. Seeing that BK was at a loose end for a minute or two, Randy was struck with a sudden thought.
“Bro… you’re such a good musician, so why when we have classes don’t you ever speak up when the teacher asks a question?” BK gave Randy a glance, seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then sighed. “It’s like I said, you gotta have the voice to be a star. But I wasn’t born with that voice, I’ve had to dig deep to find it. I can use it when I’m making music, but just in class and stuff, it’s more difficult. Same with people, too. That make any sense?”
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:47:20 GMT -5
More than you know, thought Randy to himself. BK punched a few more keys. “It’s all about the words. When I rap, the words seem to work for me, combine together and flow with the beat, the melody. It’s like, the ideas and the words are in my head somewhere, and the music is what helps them come together.” The PC made a “bing!” sound, and BK gave a sigh of relief.
“At last! Anyway… that’s my take on things. I need to get back to work, if you don’t mind.” Randy smiled; he didn’t mind at all. He was starting to get the germ of an idea…. “I’ll leave you in peace then, Bro. Thanks for your help.”
BK looked a little puzzled. “With what?” Randy just tapped the side of his nose, and BK gave a “whatever” sort of shrug. As the beat started up again, Randy gave BK a mischievous grin.
“Hey… do you think I could be a rapper, BK?”
BK folded his arms. “Don’t go there. White men can’t rap.”
“What about Vanilla Ice?”
“Vanilla ICE?!” BK looked stunned. “OUT. NOW.”
Randy laughed out loud, and scooted out of the door. “Just messin with you, Bro.” He started to walk away; BK stuck his head out through the door. “And lose the “Bro”, for heavens sake, you sound like a walking cliché. Try something more original….”
Randy did not ignore BK’s last comment; in fact, the same thought had occurred to him a few days back. But it was going to change all right; his strategy was taking shape, and now all he needed to do was find some way to test it out…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:49:48 GMT -5
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“Shhh, he’ll be here any minute. Are we all clear on what we’re supposed to do?”
The rest of the Untouchables nodded. The gym was busy, with students climbing, jumping, and stretching; Davey took a quick sideways glance, checking that the group hadn’t caught the attention of Mr. Fleming. Fortunately he was all the way across the room, instructing Kudo, Tornado, Brett (who preferred to be called Bre, much to Mr. Fleming’s agitation) and a handful of others in the art of Tai Chi.
“It would probably be more relaxing if Mr. Fleming spoke more quietly,” observed Jake dryly. The others laughed; Davey looked in the other direction, and saw that Rena was keeping Alicia occupied in conversation so that there would be no risk of her discovering what the lads were up to. She gave Davey a fleeting glance and a wink, and-
“Here he comes! Davey, we’re up!”
Davey quickly took hold of the rings, and started to lift himself up and down as Victor strode up and started to use the set next to him. Davey took a deep breath, and put on his most relaxed smile.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he asked. Victor smiled, and shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I could live without gym class, but then so could everyone here.” Davey laughed, and hoped it didn’t sound nervous. “Oh yeah, I believe congratulations are in order….”
Victor gave him a confused look. “For what?”
“Come on, you don’t have to act so modest with me. I’ll admit, you had us all fooled…”
“What are you talking about? Fooled?”
Davey hesitated for just a fraction of a second before taking the plunge. “About your choice for who to take to the Winter Ball! I would never have guessed, not in a million years! If I had known, I wouldn’t have asked her myself!”
Victor was by now well and truly hooked. “Winter Ball? Just spit it out, Davey!”
“There’s no need to get shirty. You know perfectly well who-“ Davey cut himself off. “You mean…..” His voice was almost a whisper now. “Holy cow, I thought she was just joking when she said… oh man! You really don’t know, do you?”
Davey let go of the ropes and dropped to the mat; Victor did the same, and almost grabbed him by his gym shirt. “Who are you talking about?! For lord’s sake, Davey, tell me!”
Davey shook his head. “I don’t know if I should… I mean, I was told in confidence. And you’d probably tell everyone else. Yeah, she doesn’t deserve that.”
Victor looked a little hurt. “Davey, I am a man of my word. Just tell me what you know, and I swear that I won’t tell another soul.”
“Hmm…. You promise? I mean, REALLY promise? Witnessed by the rest of the guys here?”
The remaining Untouchables raised their heads from their exercises, as if they’d only just become conscious of being mentioned. Victor made a crossing motion with his hands. “I promise.”
Davey looked a little sceptical, but then looked over his shoulder, toward an equipment store. “Step this way.”
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:50:53 GMT -5
They walked over to the store and slipped inside. From the doorway, they could see where Tyler was doing some bench – presses; and to add a little entertainment value, he was bench-pressing a real bench, upon which several of the girls in the class were sitting. Rena and Alicia were in the middle, laughing and shrieking a bit with each lift.
“Do you see the girls there?”
“Yeah.” Victor wrinkled his nose a little as Alicia pulled her gym socks up and almost toppled over backward.
“One of them is not your favourite person in the world, right?”
“You might say that.”
“And the feeling’s mutual, of course?”
“I would think so.”
“You think wrong, friend. In fact, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
It took a second for Victor to fully register what had been said. “………..What? Get out of here!”
Davey shook his head. “You know me, Victor…. We’re two of a kind. We can have the pick of any girl in this school… and I’ve spent enough nights out with airheads. So I decided to ask Alicia to go to the ball with me, I thought she’d jump at the chance, it’s not every day a gorgeous stud like me comes calling.” Davey gave a heartfelt sigh. “She told me she was very flattered, who wouldn’t be…. But that she was already spoken for.”
Davey’s pulse was pounding; he had no idea if Victor was believing a word of this. He wasn’t therefore all that surprised by his initial reaction. “Oh, good one Davey. You almost had me.” Victor had his hand on the door knob, but Davey forcefully pushed it closed. “Look, I know it sounds unbelievable… I reacted the same way you just did. But she told me that her prickly exterior is just an act, and I assumed that the two of you had got things together and didn’t want anyone to know. So I left it at that… well, that at least would explain why she looked sad when I wished the pair of you well.”
Victor looked stunned. “She…. Likes me?”
“Yeah. A lot.” Davey put on a serous expression. “Look, remember what you promised. It’s bad enough that she has feelings that won’t ever be returned, so don’t even think of making fun of her. I won’t let that happen. You don’t know that I asked her to the dance, and you definitely don’t know her secret. Right?”
“Uh, yea, sure. Not a word…” Victor was staring out of the door’s window; his head was tipped on one side, as if he were looking at the scene with new eyes. Davey clenched his fist in a “yes!” motion, then quickly resumed his serious expression.
“I’m gonna go get a shower. Not a word to anyone, remember. Later.”
Davey let himself out of the room; the class was breaking up and heading to get changed. Davey waited as long as his curiosity could bear, before looking over his shoulder; Victor had just come out of the storage room… and he was whistling.
Rena walked up to him nonchalantly. “Well?”
“Hook, line, and sinker.”
Rena give him a quick kiss. “You’re such a clever guy… now we just have to wait and see how Victor copes with wanting something he can’t have.”
They walked together toward the changing rooms. “What if he actually doesn’t say anything to her?” Davey asked. Rena thought about this for a second. “Then he’ll deserve to avoid getting into an embarrassing situation. Either way, it works. That’s the beauty of this plan.”
Rena went through the door. Davey followed her; he looked a little concerned, but kept whatever was in his head to himself.
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To Be Continued…….
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Dec 26, 2005 16:52:01 GMT -5
If anyone wishes to post, feel free. I'll pick up again in this thread just as soon as the rest of the story is finished. Again, apologies for the delay.
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