Rick
November 24, 2006. 10:21 p.m. My kitchen. I had to move my computer to the kitchen to make room for my new Playstation 3. It’s a gosh darn miracle that I even have room in the kitchen what with all the smelly pizza boxes and newspaper bunches all over the place. At least the newspapers make for some good seats. But… woo hoo… I’m super super super excited. Tonight’s the night. I got everything set up. Got me a bottle of half drunken Fanta, my Rickichu medallion, and even my Mini Moon poster in case I need that extra edge…
Tonight is the night I lose my virginity; my cyber virginity, to my one true and honest sweetheart Panda-chan. I don’t know her real name yet, but once she moves here from Australia, we’ll get married and she’ll finally tell me her name. I sincerely, sincerely hope her name is Crystal. That way she can name our daughter Crystal and then I’ll have double the crystal power. I just have to say the right prayers and make them juuust the right medallions then I’ll have the ultimate power. I’ll be unstoppable with my power Crystals. Wait… what if she has a son… oof. That’ll be a sticky issue. I know abortion is a sin but… like… men are just so dangerous. I can’t risk having my beautiful wife create such a vile being. Girls are just so much nicer, more honest… and cuter.
ANYWAY. No more of that. Time for fun sexy times… I spend about fifteen minutes telling how I’m going to keep her satisfied and happy. So, so happy. I can’t exactly say what happened or what I said… gotta keep this PG-13 ya know. I’m not one of those sex-crazed maniacs. That would be a disgrace to God-Jesus and the bear. Just as I’m about to finish, I put the Fanta bottle around my duck and do the deed… I feel amazing… but there’s no time to waste! I stir the bottle around and down the mixture as fast as I can to recycle my stuff. No sense in wasting that stuff. That’d be a sin. I think this is what the other adults call afterglow… if it’s this amazing with the cybersex, I can’t wait to see what the real deal is like.
“Rick…” Panda’s voice rings through my headphones. “I have something to tell you.”
“Tell me anything you like, my heartsweet. My Rickichu ears are all yours.”
“I’m… I’m…” Panda’s voice drops. “I’m a fourteen-year-old boy, Rick.”
“... What…?”
“That’s right. I’m a fourteen-year-old boy.” Panda? starts laughing at me… just like everyone else. “You’ve been having sex with a fourteen-year-old boy this whole time. I’m going to give all your data to Chris Hansen, you friggin pedodork. Have fun dealing with the police. Buh bye! Hoo boys! We got him so bad! This is awesome!” The call cuts out and I’m left all alone… They raised my heart meter, only to send it crashing back down to zero… Oh well, time to see if there’s any other potential heartsweets out there. I close the chat window and open up my usual dating websites. Still no real messages. The lot of them are either trolls or icky gay men… ugh… Why can’t I find a real sweet 18-21 year old white woman? I’m a nice guy. I love my parents. I’m creative. I get money from the government. What’s wrong with me?
creeeeak
I hear the kitchen door open and some footsteps come running in. I can’t close the window! The computer’s frozen again! Oh come on! Not now!
“Rick!” Dad storms in and looks down at me. “What in God’s name are you doing!?”
“Nothing!” I cover my duck. “Could you please leave!?”
“That doesn’t look like nothing to me, boy! Get off the computer!”
“I’m not doing anything, dad! Leave me alone!”
“That’s it… I’m cutting down your internet…” Dad walks away and starts heading for the router.
“No, dad! I need that internet! Dad! I need it for my sweetheart! The future of your grandchildren as well as the entire world depends on it!”
Angela
November 27th, 2007. 4:21 p.m. Prom night. The bus parks out in the school parking lot and we all shuffle out. There’s a mass of students waiting in line out in front of the auditorium waiting to get in. Guess this is what prom night would’ve looked like huh… As much as I want to hate this place, the amount of detail that went into this recreation is impressive. The vending machines are in the right place and sell the right stuff. The lunch tables under the awning are all the right size and shape. The cafeteria menu is identical. Cup of noodles, quesadillas, little pancake bits, fries, and energy drinks. Oh god… just standing around here makes me smell instant ramen swimming in sriracha sauce. That’s how all the kids here ate their ramen. It’s got enough sodium and spice to make your colon wanna kill itself. It was delicious. Auditorium’s in front of us. Football field’s behind that. Lunch area is to the right of us and the rest of the school is behind the lunch area. Despite everything, I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic.
“So, Angela.” Vivian stretches her arms over her head. “What’s the plan? Where do you think the next challenge is?”
“It could be anywhere in this school. This entire place was like a paradise to him. The art classroom, library, and the little chapel in the main plaza could be worth checking out.”
“Where’s the art classroom?” Sejong asks.
“600 wing. Sorry, central wing.” I point to the collection of buildings past the awning to the right of me. “There’ll be a little 600 sign atop the hallway.”
“Got it.” Vivian smiles. “So how about me and Sejong investigate the school while you two check out the dance?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth, Vivian.” Josh plants his palm on my head and rubs. “Now get going. We’ll take care of the dance.”
“Right.” Vivian shoots us a thumbs-up before running away. “You two play nice now.”
Sejong and her run off past the lunch awning and into the school while Josh and I wait in line.
“You know we aren’t here to dance.” I look up at Josh.
“Couldn’t hurt to blend in.” he starts undressing to reveal a fresh tux underneath his clothes.
“Were you wearing that the whole time? Why?”
“Always come prepared.” Josh winks and pats me on the butt to move up in line.
Sejong
November 27th, 2007. 4:35 p.m. Room 605. 600 wing. The door to the room is locked, but Vivian just shrunk the door down and walked over it into the room. “Please enter, madam Sejong.” She bows and shows me in.
“Why thank you my dear lady.” I reciprocate the bow and walk into the room.
Vivian grows the door back to size and tries to make it look untampered with. “Soooo.” she and I look out into the art room. “Anything look suspicious in here?”
This is… certainly an art room. Two rows and four columns of wide tables. Lots of storage lockers across from us on the opposite wall. Little puzzle-piece shaped murals cover the walls. Each one is of a varying color scheme and quality, but they really help bring the room together. Teacher’s desk is behind us. Nothing significant there. The only part of the room that looks out of the ordinary is the collection of paper mache and wooden statues of various video game and anime characters. Well, at least I think they’re supposed to be characters? I have a hard time discerning if it’s supposed to be abstract art or an attempt at realism.
There’s a blue wooden totem in the corner of the room. It’s a little under two feet tall. Large, asymmetrical eyes. The shape and width of the corneas and pupils are completely off. There is a mouth protruding out just under them that looks like it's sucking an invisible phallus. There are paper mache spikes sticking out on the thing’s head and back. The face is terrifying. No other way to describe it. It gives off this threatening aura like a cursed artifact that had long been sealed away. It’s eyes beg for death, but it’s mouth continues whispering curses into whoever gazes upon the blasted thing. The body looks fine however. Good symmetry and is decently painted. Just… the face is the stuff of nightmares. No attempt was made to sketch an outline with pencil or to paint over mistakes. It looks like infinite passion, but zero care was taken into its creation.
Hanging up on the wall next to it is a collection of self-made trading cards. It’s hard to see the fine details, so Vivian and I get closer to get a good look. The wall features such gems like ‘Virgin with Rage’, ‘Girlfriend?’, and ‘Regina my Beautiful Twin’. Each one features a picture drawn in crayon and a little description printed on the bottom. The typography is also atrocious. Keep your text size and font consistent within paragraphs… Come on, man. Graphic design 101. You can do better. The description for the Girlfriend card actually got a little chuckle out of me. Unfortunately. It reads, “Could she be the love of my life? Probably not… I’m sure she’s already paired up with some jerk.”
At least I’m not the only one laughing. Vivian’s been giggling like a schoolgirl ever since we approached this wall. “Hey, Sejong. I got an art question for ya.”
“Shoot.”
“How would you define ‘good art’?”
“Oooohoho. Now that’s a fun one… Give me a second.” After a few moments of consideration, I think I have a halfway decent answer. “There are some big exceptions to this, but I think good art is art that evokes emotions from its audience. The worst thing a piece of art can be is forgettable.”
“Fair enough.” Viv nods and points to the totem. “Now, what about art that is very obviously lacking in technique, vision, and common decency in some places? Instead of invoking awe, joy, or wonder, it evokes laughter and rage. Would that still be good art?”
I breathe in through my teeth. “Yes. Poor execution, but unintentional genius. There is a certain kind of art that can only be made when endless passion meets zero skill. It cannot be replicated or produced intentionally. Even though the actual quality of the art is poor, it still elicits joy from you.”
“Fair enough.” Vivian shakes her head and laughs at the ground. “I’d much rather see a 1/10 than a 5/10, ya know?”
“Very true. Extremes are more memorable than averages.”
Vivian fiddles with and examines every other piece of art in the room before heading back to the door. “Wanna investigate the chapel now? I don’t think we’re going to find anything here.”
“Sounds wise.” I follow Vivian out of the room and head towards the library.
Angela
November 27th, 2007. 4:37 p.m. The security volunteers let us in and suddenly I’m drenched in the year 2000. Awful fashion, haircuts that look like ramen, the decorations on the walls and tables all have that stupid but really cool chrome, geometric look that everything had back then… 2000 was a good year… It was like the 90s refused to die. The music’s pretty banging too. I can feel my ears about to pop off and my rib cage rattle each time the bass hits. That’s how you know it’s good. I can’t let the aesthetic consume me. I must focus on finding the challenge. No decorations have Rick’s face on them and I can’t find him anywhere in the sea of guests. I even looked outside and around the corners. He’s nowhere to be found.
Josh has just… the biggest, brightest smile I’ve ever seen him with. He’s constantly talking to the people here as if they were his classmates. He’s wiggling his plump butt to each song that comes up. Since entering, I’ve been blessed by ‘Bye Bye Bye’, ‘The Real Slim Shady’, and ‘Who Let the Dogs Out’. 2000 really was a simpler, gaudier time.
Upon reaching the snack bar, we find a sick ass array of snacks. Various candy, nachos, punch, french fries, and some pizza spread out all over. Josh grabs a small plate of nachos and french fries and begins snacking. “Damn…” he coughs. “That’s… so… greasy…” Josh quickly pops another chip swimming in oily cheese into his mouth. “Yo, Angela. Want some of this?”
“Can’t.” I shake my head and continue scanning the dance floor. “You sure you didn’t see him?”
“He’s kinda hard to miss.” Josh pours himself a cup of punch and downs it in one gulp. “Aw man… It’s not spiked.” he pokes my cheek. “Yo, Angie. Got any alcohol on you?”
“Ssh. No I don’t. Don’t say that word out loud here. I don’t want to attract attention again.” My eyes stay glued to the dance floor. Am I missing something? Did I guess wrong? Is the trial in the school?”
“Angie.” Josh puts the nachos down on the table, grips my cheek, and pulls my face towards him. His eyes are stone cold, but his smile’s so warm… and his jaw can cut diamonds. “You’ve been waaaay too tense since we got here. I get you’re trying to do a job and that this is important to you, but you gotta take it easy. Have fun with this.”
“Josh…” I want to be mad at him, but I can’t… and I’m really trying to. “He could be killing someone right now. Every second matters.”
“You told me high school was the best years of his life. I trust you 100% on this. I’m sure we just have to wait this out a little bit and it’ll all be fine.”
“I hope you’re right…” I reach over and steal a nacho. Melted cheese always makes me feel better. “I just wish he’d hurry the hell up already.”
“Well we’re here at prom.” Josh lets go of me and rubs my head. “Might as well enjoy it.” he gets down on one knee and extends his arm to me. “May I have this dance?”
“Now is not the time.”
‘Oops I Did it Again’ starts playing.
“Okay now is the time.” I take Josh’s hand, lead him to the dance floor, and we start shaking our asses.
Vivian
November 27th, 2007. 4:44 p.m. Library. It’s a school library. Carpet’s a bit sticky and it smells like old people, but that’s about it. The shelves are stacked with standard required reading, encyclopedias, and big guides for various video games. The only thing noteworthy is that there’s a big shelf smack dab in the middle of the place full of the same ten volumes of ‘The Adventures of Rickichu’ comics.
Each of them are made out of printer paper and are completely drawn in crayon and marker. Nothing else in the library seems to trigger anything, so I take out a random comic and open to a page. Goodie. The page features Rick fingering a white girl and a black girl. There’s a huge speech bubble saying, “I am not racist! I respect women of all colors!” A disgusting cackle rushes out of my mouth and echoes through the library. Screw it. Let’s keep reading. I wanna see how bad this gets. I flip through a few more pages. This… this is painful to read. Not because of content, but because the page layout is so laughably awful. Each speech bubble is numbered to tell you what order to read them in. Perspective is non-existent. There’s entire pages of just essays of texts and no drawings. Half the dialogue is stolen from movies or video games. I can’t do a deep reading. It’s too boring. I need to just do a skim to find the good stuff. A few pages later, Rick and Rickichu are running in some canyon. Rick says, “Run, Rickichu! Get us out of here!” Rickichu replies with, “You don’t have to tell me twice, but in the stone age!”
I feel my brain implode. Am I having a stroke? No. No. Maybe I just missed the build up to that line. I read the five preceding and proceeding pages. Nope. Nothing. Still makes no sense. In the stone age… what could he mean by that!? That isn’t a complete thought! Is that some obscure reference? I need to know!
Sejong walks up to me, snatches the comic out of my hands, and stores it neatly back into the shelf. “Stop that. You’re going to give yourself a headache if you read any more.”
“Right…” I rub my temple and blink. “Did you manage to find anything?”
“Some teen magazines out by the entrance, but that’s it.” Sejong shrugs and sighs. “Nothing that triggers the next trial unfortunately.”
“Wanna hit up the prom then?”
“Couldn’t hurt.” Sejong nods and we begin heading back over to the auditorium.
It’s quiet. The air’s pretty nice too. All I can hear is crickets, obnoxious music coming from the auditorium, and the sounds of our own footsteps.
“Do you have something on your mind?” Sejong asks. “You seem pensive.”
“Eh? Oh… uh. Just thinking about stuff.”
“Do tell.” Sejong smiles.
“You ever think about how little control we have over our lives?”
“I… don’t follow.”
“How much influence would you say school has on molding someone’s personality?”
“A fair bit…” Sejong nods. “Children spend most of their waking hours at school. They’re taught essential skills and how to socialize.”
“Did you choose what school to go to? Did you choose the staff? Did you choose who went there?”
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“Nope.”
“Do you think you’d be a different person if you went to different schools and met different people?”
“Perhaps.” Sejong shrugs. “But then again I feel like I’m a bit of a unique case. I kinda get to be whatever kind of person I want to be.” he sticks out his tongue and makes his skin tone change through fifty different colors in the span of three seconds.
“Thank you. That actually adds to my point. You have more control over yourself than most people. You can choose your height, appearance, race, sex. You can be whoever you want.”
“Why thank you.” Sejong smiles, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose I did luck out a little bit in the Tech department… what are you getting at anyway?”
“I’m wondering… was Rick doomed to be a trainwreck? If he maybe had better parents or got a better education, do you think he’d still be like that?”
“Hard to say.” Sejong sighs. “but… I still think he can be saved.”
“Keep that optimism alive.” I nudge Sejong on the shoulder. “The world needs that.”
The two of us continue to walk in silence for a bit.
“Hey, Sejong…”
“Yeah?”
“I know we’ve barely hung out, but I wanted to say you’re a good hero. Keep up the good work.”
Sejong’s eyes soften. “Thank you, Vivian… I really needed to hear that.”
“Once this is over, mind if we hang out a little bit? I got some story ideas and character designs that I want to bounce off of you.”
“Sounds good.”
Josh
November 27th, 2007. 4:58 p.m. Auditorium. Me and Angela had been grooving it up on the dance floor. Feels good to show off every now and then, even if it is to anonymous, lifeless weirdos. Just as ‘Cha Cha Slide’ starts playing, the music stops and a piercing microphone screeches through the auditorium. Rick’s annoying-ass voice fills the room shortly after.
“Citizens of Rickville High.” Rick appears from behind a curtain on the stage at the end of the auditorium. He has jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt with the design of a tux on. Oh come on dude. Show some class. Don’t disrespect a tux like that. “Are ya’ll enjoying the dance so far?”
“YEAAAAH WOOOO!!!” Everyone in the audience cheers.
Rick recoils a little bit and nearly drops his mic. “That’s a good thing!” He rubs his ear and shakes his head. “We just finished counting up the votes for Prom King and Prom Queen!” He pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and takes way too long to unfold it. “Your dear king is Rick Cobb! YES YES YES!”
A robotic arm descends from the ceiling and gently places a plastic-looking crown and a little blue sash around Rick’s chest.
“Thank ya’ll so much!” Rick bows to the audience. “I really do appreciate your true and honest appreciation for the finest Prom King ever to be elected. And now for the second most important person tonight: Prom Queen!” Rick drums his belly. “Your Prom Queen is the beau- stun- amazing Barbara Cobb!”
An older woman emerges from behind the curtain and waves to the audience. She’s dressed too fancy to be a whore, but too poor to be an escort. Her skin is the same tone as Rick’s. Her eyes look hollow, but happy.
“Jesus Christ…” Angela presses her palms to her eyes. “Why mom…?”
Another robot arm descends and plops a much smaller, much less impressive tiara on Barbara’s head before zooming back into the ceiling.
“Mom?” My eyes shut hard and my neck tries to recede into my torso. No matter how much I try, I can’t look away.
“Anyway,” Rick continues. “Now your Prom King and Queen will have their Royal Dance. Once we’re done, graduation will begin! Enjoy.” he throws the microphone into the ground.
‘True’ by Spandau Ballet starts playing.
I am feeling a rage that I did not know was possible to fathom. I need to kill. I need to maim. I need to murder. The monkey part of my brain is clamoring for blood and who am I to deny it? How dare he sully ‘True’ like this.
The two start slow dancing on stage accompanied by a spotlight. Two seconds into the song, Rick’s hand starts trailing down Barbara’s sides and starts squeezing her butt. His fingers are really getting up in there.
“You okay, Angie?” I look over to Angela. She’s still covering her eyes.
“Just let me know when it’s over…”
“Can I pop him?” I reach inside my coat.
Vivian and Sejong walk up behind us. Vivian also has a plate of nachos. “What’s going on now?”
“Rick’s dancing with his mom.” I sigh.
“Mom?” Sejong’s eye does that weird spinning thing again. Don’t like that.
Rick’s hands go up into Barbara’s dress and start to turn inward.
Barbara hugs Rick tight and squeals like a pig in heat. “Ooh! Turn me loose you silly goose!”
Vivian coughs up some cheese.
“That’s it.” Angela reaches into my coat, takes my gun, cocks it, and unloads a full clip into Rick. His body plops onto the ground. No one looks surprised or angry. No gasps or screams either. Everyone just kinda looks mildly annoyed at us. Even when the clip is empty, Angela still tries to fire more.
Rick’s body flickers in and out of existence for a few seconds before disappearing.
“The hell?” I peer onto the stage. “Where’d he go?”
Rick’s voice blares through the auditorium. “Bwahahaha! You fools thought I would leave my office? That was just a mere shadow clone!”
“Yeah…” Angela groans and slides the gun back into my coat. “Thought it wouldn’t be that easy.”
“Since ya’ll are just so buggy and annoying I’ll have to show you meanies how it’s done. Red Rickichu! Go teach ‘em a lesson!”
“Yes, father…” A red hedgehog walks out from behind the curtain on stage and cracks his knuckles. He looks like a palette swap of Yellow Rickichu, except way less racist. “I shall summon the evil powers of Graduation…” he slams his fists against the floor and the auditorium walls collapse outward like a collapsed cardboard box. Everyone else in the auditorium is now wearing graduation gowns and runs out to the football field. A large dome of yellow light encapsulates the school campus. “If you think you’re cool enough to defeat me and meet my father, go to the football field…” Red Rickichu wags his finger at us before running away.
I turn to Angela. “Think you can just teleport us out?”
Angela closes her eyes and grits her teeth. Even makes some weird, but cute noises. “No… he’s interfering. Guess he learned after last time.”
“Welp.” Vivian finishes her nachos and starts walking off towards the field. “Might as well attend graduation. Can’t be that bad, right?”
Angela
November 27th, 2007. 6:03 p.m. Football field. Been sitting with my team at my left and Red Rickichu to my right. We’re all sitting in these uncomfortable folding chairs that were probably dragged out of the faculty house. This… is literally just a graduation ceremony. We’ve been sitting here for an hour waiting for students to receive diplomas and other awards. I never got any at my graduation, but I never really cared. I slept through half of my graduation. Didn’t wear anything under my robes either. Felt like I was sleeping in a silk cocoon. Best sleep I had that month.
Sejong and Vivian are talking about some monster story idea. Josh is sleeping. Red Rickichu is looking at me as if he’s waiting for something.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you feeling true despair yet? Are you ready to submit?” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Not really… What's supposed to be challenging about this?”
“Ohohoho… a tough one… I see. Just you wait… You will witness true heck.”
The principal stands up to the podium on a makeshift stage in the middle of the football field. She looks like the principal at our high school, but much younger, much lighter skin and weight, and with way bigger tits. It’s like two beach balls taped to a stick. “Thank you all very, very much for waiting through the diplomas. Now we’re going to begin handing out the awards. First award: Most popular.” She takes an envelope out of her cleavage and opens it. “Rick Cobb!”
“Woooo!” Another clone of Rick jumps out of his seat and sprints on over to the stage. He runs out of breath upon reaching the podium and spends the next five minutes collecting his breath and standing in a pool of his own sweat. “T-thank you, Ms. Principal.” he tries to swipe the award certificate out of her hand, fails, and tries again. “Thank ya’ll for your true and honest love of me! I love ya’ll!” Rick sprints back to his seat and begins fanning himself with his stained robe.
“Time for award number 2!” she pulls a bigger envelope out from her cleavage. “Most likely to succeed! Rick Cobb!”
Rick runs up to the stage again, takes longer to catch his breath, gives the same acceptance speech, and sits back down.
“Award numero three! Most handsome! Rick Cobb!”
Rick groans, gets up from his seat, and runs up to the stage. Again. This time he sits down halfway to the stage and collects his breath for five more minutes before getting up and walking the rest of the way. He doesn’t even bother with the acceptance speech this time and just stumbles back to his seat.
The awards keep coming though. Best artist, most generous, most friendly, most honest, most humble. Most humble got a good chuckle out of me.
Just as I’m starting to nod off, Rickichu opens his gross mouth again. “Well? Are you about to cry yet?”
“Nah.” I yawn. “Just kinda bored. So’s the rest of my team.”
“H-how is that possible? How do you not care about awards?”
“I don’t need sheets of paper to validate my success.” I shrug. “I’m sorry if you do.”
“Y-you people are psychopaths!” Red Rickichu pounds his fists together and bares his teeth at us. “Just you wait! You’ll crack after just a few more denied awards!”
“Keep telling yourself that.” I slink into my seat and resume nodding off.
Sejong
November 27th, 2007. 6:31 p.m. Still at the graduation. If it wasn’t for Vivian, I would be bored out of my skull. She’s been telling me nonstop about her story idea ever since we sat down.
“So… hold on a moment. You want it to be a harem anime, but all the girls are monsters?”
“Hell yeah.” Vivian nods with a scummy grin. “One’s a vampire, one’s a kitsune, one’s an oni, and one’s a yuki-onna. It’ll be a slice of life comedy.”
“So… like every other harem anime?”
“No no… listen. Sejong. Buddy.” She puts her arm over my shoulder. “Here’s the other twist… all the monster girls are chubby.”
“Why would that be a selling point?” I tilt my head. “Aren’t chubby monster girls a bit of a niche market?”
“That’s the idea. See, the more niche a market is, the more money each person is willing to pour into it. I could sell figures, body pillows, towels, shirts. I’m telling you, the monster girl market’s going to grow big in the next ten years.”
“Uh… huh…” I hum. “But what’s so appealing about chubby monster girls? I don’t get it.”
“Oooooh okay okay okay.” Vivian takes her arm off of my shoulder and starts pitching like some kind of sleazy businessman. “First off, I gotta enlighten you about chubby girls. Every part of them feels like boob. Tummy? Feels like boob. Thighs? Feels like boob. Butt? Feels like big boob. Ideal for hugging and sleeping with too. Have you never fondled a chubby belly?”
“Is that a weird sex thing?” I sink into my seat.
“Everything’s a weird sex thing to someone.” Vivian waves her hand. “You gotta try it. You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
“Okay… I’m starting to understand that appeal. It isn’t for me, but I get it. What’s so appealing about monster girls though?”
“Well now that’s a bit more complicated. See, it depends who you’re asking. Some people are really into monsters. Others just think they’re cute. Others - like Angela - really have a thing for intense size differences.”
“Oooh…” I feel dots being connected in my brain. “That does make sense… Angela has paid me quite a bit to draw her OCs.”
“How much?”
“About $700.”
“See what I mean?” Vivian’s smile grows wider and grosser. “The audience is there, man. When I get around to writing it, are you down to draw it? I’ll pay you upfront or in royalties.”
“Let me see the script first.” I nod. “I don’t want my art attached to just anything.”
“That’s fair.” Vivian leans back in her seat and gives me a little salute. “I look forward to working with you.”
Angela
November 27th, 2007. 7:02 p.m. Still at the football field. Rick’s on stage completely covered head to toe with medals, trophies, certificates, and rings. Dude looks like some kind of Christmas tree from a different planet. He bids us a ‘fond adieu’ before flying away. The rest of the students begin clearing out of the field and head back into the city in buses. Only my team and Red Rickichu remain on the football field.
“Well?” his smile grows wide. “Have you begun to cry? Have you begun feeling hopeless and worthless?”
“Oh my god!” Vivian gets out of her chair and stands up before Red Rickichu. “Just shut up already. We don’t care. Just give us the diamond you’re carrying and we won’t beat the crap out of you.”
“I- uh- umm…” Red looks up at Vivian then looks back down at the ground like an idiot. His crimson red cheeks somehow blush. Looks like someone smeared pink pastel all over his face. “Oh my goodness gracious… A cute girl is talking to me…”
All anger evaporates from Vivian’s face. “Oh come on…” she starts laughing again. Yuko really bagged a good one… that laughter’s adorable. “You cannot be serious.”
Red continues talking to himself. “Don’t ruin it for yourself, Red… Do it for Father. Give him the grandchildren he so desires… If I can do that and get a cute boy-friend free girl… my heart level will reach 100% and I will no longer be a virgin with rage. You can do this. Deep breaths.” he looks up at Vivian. “Hello, pretty lady. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No I don’t.” Vivian decides to play along, but is still giggling. “Who’s asking?”
“W-well…” Red continues mumbling like a jackass. “I-I am. I think you’re really cute… like, super adorable. Do you want to be my girlfriend? I promise my duck is at least seven inches.”
“Your duck?” Vivian laughs through her nose, but somehow manages to keep the conversation going. “You have a pet duck?”
“N-no!” Red digs the point of his shoe into the dirt behind him. “I’m talking about my…” he takes a deep breath and whispers. “My weenie…”
“Your what?” Vivian tilts her head and points to her ear. “You have to speak up. You’re mumbling.”
“M-my weenie! Dingdong! Peepee! Dongle!” Red makes a sound that I didn’t know existed. Sounds like a rubber chicken getting shoved into a blender. “If seven inches isn’t big enough, I can always make it bigger! I would do anything for my sweetheart!”
“Would you give me your diamond?” a warm smile flashes across Vivian’s face.
“I could never do that… sorry. My father would never forgive me if I just gave my diamond away willy nilly.”
“Then die.” Vivian kicks Red Rickichu square in the jaw and sends him flying five feet backwards onto the ground. Before he can get up, Vivian walks over and continues kicking the downed hedgehog. “Give. Us. The. Diamond. You. Knockoff.”
The caveman part of my brain lights up like a neon sign upon seeing Vivian kick Red. I spring out of my seat and join in on the fun. If there’s a curb nearby, I’m totally ‘American History X’ing him.
“Guys! Stop that!” Sejong begs, but doesn’t leave his seat. “He didn’t do anything!”
Sejong’s cries wake up Josh. “Huh? Eh?” Josh looks around and yawns. “The hell’s going on now?”
“Angela and Vivian are beating up that hedgehog.” Sejong whines.
“Alright…” Josh gets up and rubs his neck. “Guys, come on. Come on. Save me some.” Josh sprints over and joins in on the fun.
“Master Graduator!” Red Rickichu cries out. “Form up!” a ray of light envelops Red Rickichu and he starts levitating up above us. Scraps of metal fly towards him from every direction and start to form into a robot around thirty feet tall. The robot looks like a knockoff of five other more famous and successful robot designs. Kinda like everything else in this realm. “Hahahaha….” Red laughs at us from a cockpit atop the robot that looks about as sturdy as a hamster ball. “Now ya’ll have really done and done it. No one can stop me now… With Master Graduator’s power, I will rob you of all your accomplishments…” he pushes two levers forward and the robot’s two arms raise towards us. The hands morph into giant vacuum nozzles.
“Shouldn’t we be worried about this?” Sejong takes a battle stance and keeps his distance.
“Nah” I shake my head. “I’ve seen this oc before. We don’t need to be worried about anything.”
Vivian stretches her hands above her head. “I’ll take your word on that.”
“Same.” Josh yawns and kicks some hedgehog blood off his shoe.
“That’s what you evildoers believe…” Red presses a big red button on his control board. “Just wait until I suck everything you love away from you!” The vacuum arms begin to suck, but it’s really just a slightly strong wind. Strong enough to make me squint my eyes and blow my braids around, but not much else.
A diploma flies out of Vivian’s chest. It reads, “Sleepiest Student Award”.
“Wha?!” Vivian clutches her chest, but looks and sounds fine. She looks more surprised than anything else. “What was that?!”
“Weren’t you listening, you dumb woman!?” Red punches the window of his cockpit. “I’m stealing your awards from you!”
“I’m gonna be honest.” Vivian laughs again. “I completely forgot I even got an award.”
“Yeah… none of us really got any awards in high school.” Sejong shrugs. “Sorry.”
“N-no!” Red repeatedly punches the cockpit. More and more cracks form with each punch. “How do you people not care!? What is wrong with you weirdos!? Graduation awards are some of the best things you can receive! Why don’t you care more!?”
“Why do you care so much?” I ask. “They’re just pieces of paper.”
“I-I… I…” Red’s eyes start flickering wildly. Kinda like Sejong’s when he goes into REM sleep. “I just feel they’re important! Father gave me that knowledge, so it must be true and honest!” he punches through the cockpit, falls out, and starts throwing a violent temper tantrum on the floor in front of the robot. “Why are you four so tough!? Father told me this would be an easy job! It isn’t fair! It just isn’t fair! Why do I get all the hard missions while Purple gets to have all the fun! Why why why!?” Have you ever been so mad you wanted to vomit? That’s what Red sounds like right now. He manages to stand up, turn around, and start punching one of the robot’s shins. “I’m a good son! I do what my father says! I find him all the finest china in Rickville for him! Why can nothing be easy!?”
The robot falls over and crushes Red’s legs under it. I could hear a snap and everything. Red’s still yelling and thrashing about like a child, except now he’s face down in a growing pool of blood. It’d be horrifying if it wasn’t so funny.
I kneel down next to Red and poke one of his head quills. “Are you gonna calm down now? Nothing will get better if you keep thrashing like this.”
“I… I don’t care…” Red coughs up blood. “As long as I draw breath… I will continue to serve Father.”
“Why? You don’t owe your father crap.”
“It’s what God-jesus and the Bear would want… Third commandment and all that…” Red finally starts to calm down.
“Honoring your Father and Mother is the fifth commandment.”
“Are you serious?” Red’s voice is contorted by blood and tears.
“100%.”
“Father…” he gasps. “I… I have no other words… apparently I am not fit to serve him or the Bear… Fine… take my diamond… Trash like me doesn’t deserve it…”
“I appreciate it. Want me to pass on any last words to your dad or siblings?”
“Yes…” Red coughs. “Tell them… tell them there is nothing worse than dying a virgin… Tell them to not die like me… Make sure they experience the sweet taste of china before they die…”
My whole team bursts out in laughter once again. “You got it, little guy. Get some rest.”
“I… will…” Red lets out one last breath and one last tear. His body begins to flicker and turns into a red diamond. It’s identical to the yellow diamond in size, shape, and weight. As I store it in my backpack, the dome around the school dissipates.
“What do you think?” Vivian takes a deep breath. “Think we can take care of one more task before heading to bed?”
“Yeah…” I stand up and face my team. “There should be one nearby.”