"Let's make sure our homework is submitted on time next time.  Understood?" said Mr. Peachman.  "Pippa, you really need to focus on your schooling more and your goals and dreams less.  Yes.  You are a wonderful artist.  All the girls in class want to be like you, comb their hair like you, drink from the same fountain as you, even turn your nose up like you.  But for what?  Think about your ongoing drama performances and how they have disrupted and continue to disrupt the entire student body and faculty.  You lied to me about the soiled panty incident you started last week.  We're all limp to excitement thanks to you.  Go back into the classroom, and without saying a word, bring me the yardstick."
  "No.  I don't care."
  "Why?"
  "Tear."
  "What do you need?"
  "The drop or the rip.
  "Smudge."
  "You're insidious.  Fine.  Starting tomorrow morning, if I catch you texting on that girly Koala iPhone of yours, it will be turned into the Dean and..."
  "What.  The raffle and fundraiser?"
  "What about it?  Oh that's right.  I'm sorry but that will have to be kissed goodbye as well.  You can just put that out of your head.  You should have thought this through a little harder sissy.  Sign here.  Dot here.  Initial here.  Great."
  "Can I go to the principal's office now?  Ugh... I'm not getting any younger."
  Mr. Peachman took a phone call.
  "Oh we'll see about that one.  But I'm not sure if what you need is covered by your health insurance.  Nurse?
  "Yes doc."
  "Never mind."
  "Mr. P - can I at least keep the pom poms?"
  "Honey," whispered Peachman very quietly, "you've had plastic pom poms before day one.  This is what you've asked for and this is what you have received.  Welcome to the tribe.  Don't you get it?"
  "..."
  "We'll take a better look later," he said
  This is all she ever wanted - to be in charge of the student body and administration queen.  She knew she was walking a very tight rope, but apparently all the ballet lessons and snooty English classes had paid off.  She felt in charge now.  Just a few more cczzzzzz....

DREAM SEQUENCE 83
 
  Greetings from the afterlife!!  It's hard to describe, but you wouldn't believe me if you tried;)  I didn't ask to be brought into this crazy world, but the obstetrician must have smacked my bum just a little too hard.  I was perfectly content with nothingness, but then the eighties came and out I popped.
  "You get the news?" said Harris.
  "No.  What?" said Trent.
  "Hang on... let me send you the link."
  "What?  Holy shit."
  "I know right?  Writing was on the wall though.  Are you surprised?"
  "No.  Addison was super depressed."
  "What do you think it was ultimately?"
  "I hate to theorize.  I don't know... boredom, poverty, loneliness?"
  "Sure.  Or any combination of the three.  I think he was sexually frustrated."
  "Yeah well who isn't."
  "I don't want to get into that."
  "Ultimately he pushed almost everyone out of his life who really loved and cared about him."
  "He sure took a lot of guff from his family about his constant drinking."
  "I warned him."
  "Yeah.  Sad really.  What a great guy."
  "How did he do it anyway?  Alcohol poisoning?  Sleeping pills?  Gun to the head?"
  "The report didn't say.  Look man, he let his pride, perfectionism, and ego get in the way of his personal and professional life.  He isolated himself constantly, and let's face it - he suffered from delusions of grandeur."
  "See, I disagree with you there man.  Clearly he was overconfident about things and had unrealistic expectations about life, but there were a host of other skeletons in his closet he didn't reveal to hardly anyone.  Man was that guy talented though - like Kurt Cobain meets David Foster Wallace or something."
  "Yeah.  Real tormented artist - a diamond in the rough.  Way too ahead of his time."
  "Sure."
  "Probably possessed by demonic spirits... judging by the content of his work.  His interior life must have been some kind of living hell I'd imagine."
  "A great story teller.  No doubt - a coping mechanism that ended up poisoning his own ass in the end - and he wasn't even a Scorpio!"
  "That's really unnecessary."
  "I... ugh... sorry man... I make light of heavy situations."
  "Coping mechanisms.  Right.  Funny."
  "Regardless, I'm going to have to work on a eulogy."
  "This sucks dude.  I can't believe it."
  "Believe it."
  "So now what?"
  "I don't know.  I should call Pippa."
  "Did she even know Addison?"
  "Well she knew OF him."
  "Right."
  "You have anything else to add to this?"
  Harris and Trent too their seats in the hospital food court and started to text their girlfriends.
  "I'm bored," said Trent.
  "Go ride a bike."
  "Hey-"
  "What?"
  "Why?"
  "Pictures."
  "Scanners?"
  "No shit."
  "Hey are these changes permanent?"
  "What do you think?"
  "I think so."
  "That's a guy you know."
  "Who... this?"
  "No... this."
  "Oh yeah.  I know."
  "I'm gonna shoot Fenton an irreverent text to make sure he's not using his noodle to perfectionary twit."
  "A little rough on the didactic rhetoric today - aren't we doc?"
  "He's really good at charades... watch out.  He'll turn your brain into a block party."
  "Get out the caviar jelly and cracker type..."
  "Yep."
  "Rog told me you're thinking about moving?"
  "Well we're talking about it.  Not too seriously yet though.  Maybe after the surgery."
  "Some of these jokes in this manuscript are darkly coded."
  "No shit Sherlock."
  "Well..."
  "What?"
  "I ughhh..."
  "Swat I thought.  Hurry up.  I got some sculpting to do."
  "How long have you dreamed of this life?"
  "I've always been this way.  As long as I can remember."
  Harris was the first to greet Pippa after the operation.
  "Success!"
  "I know."
  "I love the balloons."
  "I don't know who brought them.  No note or anything."
  "I see.  Tell me - what do you think about starting a new diet and exercising regimen after we break you out of here?"
  "Sure."
  "What?"
  "It's just kind of..."
  "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts... a little late in the game for that.  Don't you think?"
  "Oh I feel great.  No.  I'm just fine."
  "I'm just a little worried about it getting infected."
  "It won't.  I've been deep in prayer and meditation."
  "The Lord will take good care of you sweetie - that's the spirit.  Look, I gotta split.  I spoke with Nina - the nurse on duty.  She's going to bring you a salad in about an hour.  Do you think you can hold any food down?"
  "Not really, but I'll try."
  "Good."
  "Is this a hospital recovery room or what?" said Trent resting his long-board next to the dresser.  "I brought you some books on tape.  I'm not allowed to bring you anything to eat."
  "I can't really hold much down anyway.  Thanks for being here."
  "Not a problem.. How ya feeling?"
  "Minty fresh!"
  "I bet."
  Several weeks later Addison arranged for Harris and Pippa to be together in a trashy little Arby's ceremony that the whole town had planned.
  "Welcome to Arby's, may I take your order?"
  "Hey baby let me get a wedding with curly fry rings..."
  "And a cherry turnover with candles."
  "I'm sorry - welcome to Arby's, may I take your order?"
  "Listen baby - large curly fries, and a Mountain Dew."
  "And a cherry turnover with wedding candles on em."
  "They don't have candles, I have the candles baby."
  "We don't have candles.  Will that complete your order?"
  "No.  When we pull up to the window, I need you to say, 'I now pronounce you man and wife.'"
  "I don't think I'm allowed to.  Will that complete your order?"
  "Fine," said Pippa.  "Whatever.  You ain't gettin' no tip then."
  Pippa fashioned two large curly fries around her and Harris' ring fingers.  She poured two plastic champagne flutes from the dollar store half full of the Mountain Dew.  The Arby's team member reluctantly took a few photos with Harris' phone.  "Give me your arm," she said grabbing Harris' arm and cross locking for the Hallmark Pose.  As they left the drive-thru, Pippa threw a handful of L&M menthol butts out of the passenger side window.  "I love you baby," she said kissing Harris on the cheek.
  It had all the rage of a death metal concert and Proper Princess Pandemonium at a Barbie Convention.  In retrospect, Peter had to be let go.  One for the road and three to go out from the experimental Science Factory across the bridges of Winemust and Randi-ness of Wilcox that were no longer.  For this is what happens when little nuances of the mind entrap the tiniest microscopic pricks of pain w/ pleasure and squash for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight snack where Paul's best friend's mom know's they're about to take a break from gaming to raid the nacho's in the fourth quarter and just go right back upstairs.  Oh, Paul's keeping his football jerseys.  He's having loads and gobs of fun.  Oh wait - that's right - where did Richard run off to?  His girlfriend worked at a car dealership just over the Grumble Neck County line and had to spit copper for thrusts of galviston for the fun experiment time that no one wanted to talk about yet continue to go deeper and deeper into her tiny little train depot she had created for herself - back when Nixon was still president.  Everyone could smell the fresh meat, the sloppy French Fries that the whole city seemed to be laughing at - along with the ice cream parlors that were savage and downright funner than all hell.  And now Harris, spending most of his time a local grocery stores of previously non-nonsensical aisles he shouldn't have been in , this Wholy Matron-nomy of chabing and all of the acetone in the cupboard remaining bare-ass-smooth as silk and lavender for the piercing of the Taurus.  HA!  Wond'rous calamity!  Where is thy toothbrush?
  "So let me get this straight," said Pippa, taking a break from her crossword puzzle, "what do you think of nails like these?"
  "I think you're a million times more shallow."
  "You're getting every penny's worth."
  "Oh I can see that.  I gotta run to Kohl's real quick.  Need anything?"
  "Nah.  Actually - sneak me a bottle of Evian if you can.  NOT Dasani.  Please?"
  Wink.