The Death of Relena

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The Death of Relena

There are too many warnings to give this piece, I'll just tell you that it's an original creation with my original characters. Other than that, you'll have to find out for youself! Have fun!!!

*********************

Once upon a time, in a land far away, well….maybe not that far….okay, it was here. Relena

Peacecraft died. YES!!!! Praise God!!! Anyway, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves now.

Talking, take two *click* Here we go. This story is called, um….I don’t know right now…..I know! Queen Relena’s reign comes to an end…when she DIES!! ~Cough~ Talking, take three…~click~. Ahem, allow me to introduce myself. I am the person who tells this tale…I am, wouldn’t you like to know. Well, you can’t, so there! HAHAHAHA!!!

Standard Disclaimers Apply, and others as well.

Composed by Sphynx-chan(, w/ help from her psychotic friend,Vaily )

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, oh such a beautiful day in the neighborhood. La la

la la……la la la…Hold it! Excuse me, I’ll be back in a second. ~Sphynx-chan stomps over to where Vaily-chan is typing on the computer and laughing wickedly. She pulls a golden spatula(sching! sparkle sparkle) from hammerspace and whacks Vaily-chan over the head with it, knocking her unconscious. She then sits down in the chair and starts typing her OWN story, an evil grin on her face.~

ANYWAY…..it was just another day in the boring, dull, stupid life of Relena Peacecraft. She

was going along with her usual stupid schedule, being the stupid Queen of the World and all.

Her ego was unusually bigger than usual, which is a very hard thing to muster. And why would

this be? Because, ladies and gentlemen, Heero gave her a teddybear. And WHY would THAT be? Because he is a kindhearted person…..to our extent of knowing. Yeah RIGHT! All of a sudden, to the readers' horror, the blond bimbo gets up and starts singing, and it goes a little like this:

I feel pretty, oh so pretty

I feel pretty and witty and gaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!

"Wait, that could be misinterpreted...............oh well, I'll just sing another

song............." Says Relena, looking at herself in the dresser mirror, combing out her hair

and making sure it's extra bouncy. She then selects a bright........eeewww............PINK

ribbon and ties it into her hair like a headband.

**************CUT!!!!!!!**********************

The AuthorsÔ of this story jump out of their chairs, a revelation had just hit them.

"Vaily, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yeah, Sphynx, this isn't just a little fic about the death of Relena, it's a........."

Together: "MUSICAL!!!!!!"

*several groans are heard from the audience, but at the promise of Relena's death and the

passing out of pocky, they eventually calm down and sit back in their chairs.*

Lets get the show on the road!!!!! And now, the cast, in order of appearence:

*NOTE: These names are of the author's own screwed up imagination. If there actually is a

person living with this name, it is merely coincidential. If it is the name of a character in

a book, movie, etc., it's not exactly a coincidence, however I do NOT own the original

character and take no credit for their place of origin. I thought of these names because I did

and there's nothing you can do to change them just because they sound stupid.

Thank you.---Sphynx*

Heero Yuy.............................................................Alex Wilkins,

main character, the Jet leader

Duo Maxwell.........................................................Shojn Wilkins, (no this name does not rhyme w/ trojan it's just shawn or shaun or whatever way you want to spell it... hummph..... blah)

Alex's younger brother, a Jet

Trowa Barton.........................................................Arab Schnider, (pronounced A-raahb not air-ub)

a Jet, the best friend

Quatre Raberba Winner.........................................Sonny Porter, (no this is not a stereo brand it's sunny not sony....and you'll see why later.....)

Wufei Chang...........................................................Paris Cardier, (say it with me.........ca-dee-ay, NOT car-dear, morons.....)

a Jet, the all-around tough guy

Relena Peacecraft....................................................Sandy Davis,

a Square, the goody tooshoes

Lucrezia Noin.........................................................Jamie Avalon,

an Ace, the ringleader

Catherine Bloom.....................................................Tiffanie StClaire,

a Square, the airhead

Hilde Schbeiker.......................................................Virginia Calaway,

an Ace, the know-it-all

Dorothy Catalonia..................................................Winifred Thomas,

a Square, Relena's best friend

Sally Po....................................................................Autumn Lawrence,

an Ace, the smooth-talker

Zechs Merquise.......................................................Jason Blue,

an ex-Square, the flirt

Treize Khushrenada................................................Chip Arthur,

a Square, the stalker

Mariemaia Khushrenada........................................Molly McAdams,

a Square, the tagalong

Jeri Tyler...................................................................Ryder Carson, (not the moving company!!!!!!!!! ride-er)

an Ace, the new chick

Becky Taylor...........................................................Yvette Ponce, (yi-vet pon-say)

Mikki Allen..............................................................Rizzo Cruz, (the last name is not crust.... get it right idiots!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Kyra Hunter............................................................Francis Carson,

Ryder's twin sister, an Ace

Kitsune McCloud...................................................Dakota Alves,

a neutral, the informer

Doctor J...................................................................Professor Ponce, (yes another pon-say)

Yvette's grandfather, chemistry teacher

Professor G..............................................................Mr. Kerns,

english teacher, the drip

Instructor H............................................................Mr. Lewis,

Vice Principal, the repellant

Doctor S...................................................................D. F. Krupkie,

Police Sergeant, the loser

Master O.................................................................Coach Jackson,

gym teacher, the dependent

Lady Une...............................................................Miss Carrie,

Principal, the hesitant

Mr. Darlian...........................................................Doctor Harrell,

physician, the clown

Duke Dermail.......................................................Sgt. Dreiling, (sounds like ceiling)

drill sergeant, the pain

Otto.......................................................................Eugine Barnes, (otherwise known as Wheezy Barnie)

Silvia Noventa.....................................................Jane Marshall,

Trent....................................................................Vincent Klapper,

a square, the cronie

Mueller................................................................Samuel Kinzler,

a square, the yes-man

There is a war going on between the adolescent social groups; the Squares, all-American

snobs; the Aces, not to be confused with ladies; and the Jets, your everyday hell-raisers.

Then there are those who call themselves neutral, they try to get along with both sides, yet are

torn between them nonetheless. Whenever a dispute arises between groups, those that are not

involved are careful to stay out of the way, for anyone who attempts to

extinguish the flames................gets burned. But occasionally, some sort of authority figure

is compelled to step in-between these so-called gangs, and then the problems already arisen

can do nothing but get bigger and more serious, sometimes even involving and eventually hurting those that never had anything to do with them in the first place.

The scene opens in a shaggy apartment on the top floor of one of the shaggiest buildings in town. Camera zooms in on the only room, which is a combination bedroom/bathroom/kitchen/living room. In the small bed, a lumpy figure is laying in the center of the mattress, pillows and blankets tangled about. The alarm clock, a plastic G.I. Joe figurine, suddenly goes off, the time showing 6:45 a.m. A hand reaches out and tries over and over to smack the alarm clock, but fails. After several attempts, the hand retreats back into the covers, only to return with a small metal baseball bat. A head of unruly hair pops up out of the mountain of blankets, turns toward the annoying alarm clock. The sound of the alarm is silenced by the sleek metal of the bat connecting with plastic, sending the figurine flying across the room, landing in a pile of broken parts.

The figure in the bed sits up and scratches his head with both hands, trying to get the messy hair to cooperate, failing miserably. He stretches a bit, working out the kinks in his back and neck, then swings his feet over the edge of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. The door closes and a light goes on, the sound of a shower beginning and steam filters out of the bottom of the door. A telephone rings in the kitchen one, two, three, four times; the answering machine next to it picks up and a recorded voice interrupts the silence of the almost-empty room.

"....you've reached the Wilkins residence, Shojn and I aren't home at the moment.......but if you'd leave your name, the time of your call, and a message, we'll get back to you as soon as we can. Thanks, and sorry for the inconvenience....."

"Hi, Alex, this is Sandy. Look, I just wanted to give you a call and make sure you're going to show up at school on time. It IS the first day of the year, you know, and I expect you to be at the Honor Society meeting after school at 3 o' clock today. Can't wait to see you there, have a good first day of school, I love you! Bye........"

[music starts playing in the background]

Nice guys finish last

You're runnin' out of gas

Your sympathy will get you left behind

The water is cut off in the bathroom and after a few minutes, the door opens, escorted by a light cloud of steam. The former occupant walks over to the kitchen and looks at the answering machine, particularly at the red blinking light. He stares at it for a moment, then hits the 'Delete' button with his thumb, reveling at the 'message deleted' that comes from the machine. He then walks over to his closet and tumbles into some boxers and some recently pressed khaki pants. Walking over to the full-length mirror, he dons a white muscle shirt, then slips on a white dress shirt, not bothering to button it up. He reaches back into the closet, grabbing a dark blue tie, slinging it around his neck; then opens a drawer of the small dresser and pulls out a pair of white socks, making sure to grab his black and white Adidas shoes. After he's sure he has everything, he walks over to the mirror and grabs the crimson sweater vest draped over it, tucking the article into the crook of his arm and glancing at his reflection. He scrunches his nose and runs his tongue across his teeth. His prussian blue eyes widen and he dashes into the bathroom, hastily brushing his teeth and popping a piece of gum into his mouth. Right before he exits, he takes a step backward and squirts some Tommy cologne on his wrists, rubbing them together. He nods at the improvement and makes his way to the living room on the intent of waking the other occupant of the apartment.

He notices the couch is empty and a note is on the refrigerator; he sits down and puts on his shoes and socks, then buttons his shirt, fixes his tie and tucking his shirt in. He's just about to pull the red sweater vest over his head when he realizes the time: 7:15 a.m.

"Oh shit! I'm gonna be late! Shojn, you'd better be at school already or I'm kicking your ass!" he yells into the formerly-still air. He yanks the vest over his head, grabs his crimson and silver letter jacket and runs out the door, snatching up his black backpack and slamming the door of the apartment, shoving the silver key into the lock at the last moment.

[music resumes playing]

You're shakin' lots of hands

You're kissing up and pleading all your trust

Taking what you need

Bite the hand that feeds

You lose your memory you've got your shame

Oh nice guys finish last

When you run out of gas

Don't pat yourself on the back you might break your spine

Oh nice guys finish last

When you run out of gas

Don't pat yourself on the back you might break your spine

[music fades into the background once again]

He runs to the parking lot of the apartment complex and races towards a sleek, shiny black motorcycle, fumbling in his pockets for the keys. When he finally unearths them, he grabs the black helmet and slams it onto his head, not really caring if he killed a few million brain cells in the process. He jumps onto the bike, revs the engine and speeds out of the parking lot and towards the hellhole some kids he knew liked to call school.

Scene opens on the massive Autumn Ridge High School, a big silver banner hung over the front entrance that says 'Welcome back, Seniors' in bold crimson letters. In the parking lot, a shiny black motorcycle pulls into a spot near the front labeled 'Senior parking only'. The engine is cut and the helmet is strapped onto the handle, the bike leaning on one side. The young man hops onto the pavement and checks his watch: 7:30 a.m. He nods in appreciation, then pulls up the straps of his backpack and stuffs his keys in the pocket of his letter jacket. As he walks by, the word 'Wilkins' flashes into view on the leather sleeve on the jacket, a silver panther is seen crouching on its haunches below the name on the same sleeve, crimson eyes glittering maliciously. The figure walks towards the front door, looking around at the year's decorations. His prussian blue eyes light up when he sees a tall young man with a leather jacket and baggy jeans walk by. He jogs over towards the other student, stopping just behind him.

"Ready for another year of hell?" he asks. The other young man turns around, wide emerald green eyes hidden slightly by long brown bangs combed in front.

"Jesus Christ, Alex, where've you been? I've been waiting for..........probably three minutes now, should have expected you were planning on being fashionably late again. What the hell is this?" the green-eyed young man replies, tugging on Alex's letter jacket, eyeing it suspiciously, as if it were a snake about to bite. "I could swear you're turning Square on us. Where's your loyalty, man? You gonna let us Jets down? Leave us in the dust?"

"That's all bullshit, and you know it, Schnider. I'm not leaving the Jets and I'm NOT turning Square. This was a gift from my dad during Christmas last year, I just haven't gotten around to wearing it until now. I'll always be a Jet, and you know that. Now what kind of best friend would I be if I were to just leave my gang? I just promised my old man I'd wear it, that's all." Alex replies, waving the subject aside.

Andrew Schnider looks at Alex apprehensively, raising an eyebrow. He rolls his eyes and stuffs his hands into his jacket, turning and walking towards the front entrance of the school. Alex catches up with him in no time, staring at him in the eyes questionably. "Where're the others, Arab? I haven't seen any of the other guys since the fourth of July, ya know what they're up to? Anybody in jail yet? C'mon, don't leave me hangin'. My own brother won't tell me jack, not unless I get him drunk and make him spill his guts. What's the deal with you guys?" Alex asks, stopping in his tracks and forcing his friend to stop as well. Arab looks around for any eavesdroppers, then leans down and whispers into Alex's ear.

"Well, last time I saw Porter, he was thinkin' on buyin' a new car. Not that the one he has isn't the shit already or anything. He asked his old man if he could get a new one, but the jerk wouldn't give him an answer. Sonny's real intent on gettin' one, but I guess his old man thinks he should keep his old one; or new one, whichever way you look at it. I called him last week and guess who answered the phone. It was that Square, Winnie Thomas. She said that her family was having dinner with Sonny's and that he couldn't talk at the moment. I feel real sorry for him, man, he's got that stupid wench hangin' all over him; she's probably only after him because he's loaded, you know? Sonny's been tryin' to get rid of her, but their families are pals and all, he just can't get her out of his face for one minute, no matter how hard he tries. He was going to tell her straight up that there was nothing between them besides palsy parents, but Winnie took it the wrong way and told her father that Sonny said he hated her. I mean, he does, but he's not stupid enough to say that to her face. So anyway, her father talked to Sonny's old man, and I guess he was so angry with Sonny that he wouldn't even think of letting him get that new car he wanted. It's a real bummer, Alex, 'cause Sonny said that if he DID get that new car, he'd let me have his Ferrari, I wouldn't even have to pay him 'cause he'd already have it taken care of and all. I can't believe what that bitch did to him, she made an ass out of him right in front of his parents." he finished, starting to walk again.

Alex whistled, shaking his head. He stopped whistling when he spotted a short blonde kid stomping towards the front door. The kid's head was down and he was muttering curses under his breath. Alex and Arab looked at each other, then ran towards the kid.

"Hey, Porter! What's goin' on, man? Why do you look like you could murder someone just now?" Alex asked, grabbing the blonde kid by the shoulder and shaking him lightly. The blonde looked up and cracked a haphazard grin, running a hand through his slightly-toussled golden blonde hair. He exhaled sharply, then looked up at his two friends, anger clearly showing in his cerulean blue eyes. He then looked down and shook his head, starting to walk. "Aww, it's nothin' really. I'm just really pissed at my old man, that's all. Not really anything special. He's being a dick like he always is, I just want to get away from that whole damn family. Bein' in a wealthy family isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. Just make sure to keep the wench away from me, if you could. I'm afraid I'd strangle her if she walked by right now. She's always bustin' me with my pop, it makes me SO angry. Hey, what're you guys' first classes? I've got English with old man Kerns. That just makes my day suck even more." Samuel Porter replied.

"I've got Kerns, too. What about you, Wilkins?" Arab said shortly. Alex dug out a piece of paper, glanced at it, then stuffed it back into his pocket. "Yeah, Kerns is my first stop as well. Have you guys seen my dickhead brother lately? He wasn't at home when I left and I'm afraid he's gotten arrested already." he answered.

Arab and Sonny glanced at each other, then looked back at Alex, shaking their heads. Alex scuffed his shoe in the dirt, then walked the short distance to the front, pulling open the glass door. Arab and Sonny followed him into the building, the three of them made their way to their lockers, all of which were right next to each other. Alex wrenched his open, dumped some of his books and lunch bag into it, then slammed the door shut so hard that the sound echoed across the hall, causing some nervous looking underclassmen to stare at him in confusion. Arab and Sonny got their stuff and shut their lockers, glancing up and down the halls. Arab grins mischievously, elbowing Sonny in the ribs.

"Hey Porter, I think destiny decided to be a bitch today. You’re dream girl just showed up." He said, snickering slightly. Sonny looked around and spotted none other than the one person whose goal in life was to make his a living hell: Winifred Thomas. He glared angrily, his fists clenching at his sides. To his relief, Winnie walks down the other direction, her back to him. Sonny collapses against his locker, sighing in relief. Arab is laughing hysterically at the look on the blonde’s face. This makes Sonny even angrier, the blonde turns furious eyes towards his friend and socks him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of the brown haired Jet. Arab grins again and stands up straight, pushing Sonny in the direction of their first class.

"You ever do that again, Schnider, and I swear next time I won’t miss." Sonny says, stopping in front of the door with the words ‘English Lit, Mr. Kerns’ on it. Arab raises an eyebrow, looking at Alex with a look of confusion. "Miss? Where was he aimin’?" he asks. Alex smirks, looking up at his best friend. "Your face, dumbass. If he was really angry you’d have ended up on the floor. You know him well enough not to mess with him when he’s pissed. Not the smart thing to do, my friend." Alex replies. Arab shakes his head bemusedly, following Sonny into the classroom, Alex just behind him. They walk up the stairs of the arena-style seats, taking their seats next to a young man with a leather jacket similar to Arab’s. The student they sit next to has shoulder-length raven hair that frames his face and sharp ebony eyes. He greets them with a chin-up gesture, moving his backpack from one of the seats next to him so Alex can sit down.

"Nice to see you here again, Wilkins. Not exactly punctual today, are we? Where’s your lazy brother? Ditching on the first day of school?" the young man says, eyeing Alex’s letter jacket with a raised eyebrow.

"What up, Cardier. I see your summer has been productive, you’re actually here on time. Not holding up your rep, I’m disappointed. I don’t have the slightest clue as to where my brother is, I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon. I guess we’ll both find out at the same time. You goin’ to the rally tonight? The panthers are gonna kick some serious ass this season. I’d better see you there, man." Alex replies, settling in his seat.

Peter Cardier rolls his eyes, yawning loudly, making the teacher glare at him. He leans over toward the Jet leader and punches him in the arm. "You’re such a bigshot, Wilkins, you know that? All talk. The only reason the Panthers are gonna be any better than they were last year is because they’ve got YOU as their receiver. I can’t believe you’re turning into a jock, it’s gonna ruin your senior year, you know. I’ll be there, if I can’t find anything better to do." he replies. Alex grins and rubs his arm with his free hand. Meanwhile, in the front of the room, Mr. Kerns clears his throat loudly, catching the attention of all the students.

"Good morning, class, and welcome back for another year at Autumn Ridge High. I hope this year will be fun for all of you, as long as you pay attention and do your work. Now, before we begin, I will call roll. When your last name is called, simply reply ’here’ or ’present’ and I will mark you here." the teacher says sternly, glaring at the students. His appearance is rather surprising, with long gray hair that resembles that of a large mushroom and a long hooked nose. He has omniscient gray eyes and a scar that runs across his left cheek. He clears his throat and looks at his clipboard, glancing around the room.

"What?" came a voice from the far right corner of the room. A short girl with chin length cinnamon hair and jade eyes is listening to her stereo, bobbing her head to the beat. Someone to the left elbows her in the ribs, causing her to yank off her headphones and glare at the girl sitting next to her. "Pst, D! Pay attention, he just called your name." the girl whispers, she has extremely short, spiky black hair and burgundy eyes.

"Miss Alves, are you here?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, Mr. Kerns. I’m here." replies the jade-eyed student, a faint blush of embarrassment coming to her cheeks. She looks sharply over at her dark-haired friend, who is sniggering quietly, and socks her in the arm. Mr. Kerns raises an eyebrow, then shakes his head and returns his eyes onto his list of students in his class.

"Present, Mr. Kerns." replies a tall young man with short ginger hair and royal blue eyes, sitting in the very front row alongside a bunch of burly men that are most definitely on the football team. He looks like a jock, with his crimson and silver letter jacket and neat clothes. Mr. Kerns nods appreciatively, marking the young man present.

Silence. Mr. Kerns glares up at the top of the room where a group of tough looking girls are sitting. Several of them are snickering, the one sitting in the very middle is sound asleep, snoring loudly. She has short, stylish dark blue hair and is wearing tight leather pants, a dark green hooded sweatshirt and black combat boots. One of her friends shakes her on the shoulder, trying to wake her up. But the girl senses her movement and grabs her wrist before she is shaken too hard. Her eyelids snap open to reveal a pair of malicious-looking midnight blue eyes. She glares at her friend, letting go of her wrist.

"Yeah, what the hell do YOU want?" she replies, glaring at Mr. Kerns, who is slightly taken aback. He clears his throat and frowns at the student, his brows knitted together.

"Miss Avalon, are you thinking about participating in my class today?" Mr. Kerns asks sarcastically.

"Naw, I was actually planning on counting sheep during my favorite class, English that is." the girl retorts, gathering stifled laughter from several students.

"Miss Avalon, you know what this class means to you graduating. Even though you usually have impeccable marks, your behavior is a big chunk of your final grade. Cooperate with me, and we’ll both be happy. You’ll graduate with top marks, and I’ll have you out of my hair. Now, please respond correctly, oh favorite student of mine." Mr. Kerns says sternly.

The girl raises an eyebrow, then sits up and leans her head on her hand, casting a sideways glance at her friends. "Sure, I’m here. But let me ask you one question, Doc. Just what else do you have buried in that afro of yours, besides me?" she grins when the entire class breaks out in laughter. Mr. Kerns ignores her and marks her present, moving to the next person on the list.

"I-I-I’m h-h-here M-Mr. Kerns." responds a nervous-looking man in the front left row. He has a long nose and curly dark brown hair, complete with long sideburns and light brown eyes. He’s wearing a plaid sweater vest with a yellow dress shirt underneath, neat light blue dress pants and saddle shoes. He pushes up his thick framed black glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

"Relax, Barnes, this is the first day of school. There’s nothing to be nervous about, take a deep breath." Mr. Kerns replies, bemused. The nervous student takes a deep breath like the teacher instructed, but then starts to hyperventilate, clutching his hand to his throat. He starts making choking sounds, his eyes then roll back into his head and he collapses out of his chair and onto the floor. The class gasps in bewilderment, then some start laughing at the geeky student’s antics. Mr. Kerns rushes to the student’s side and checks his pulse, making sure that he’s still alive. He breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes the student just passed out, then stands up and looks around, shooing away curious students.

"Wilkins, get over here please." Mr. Kerns calls over to Alex, who is joking around with Arab and Sonny. He looks up when his name is called, then hops out of his chair and approaches the teacher, a look of fake concern on his face. "Alex, I’d like you to take Barnes to Dr. Harrell’s office so he can rest and recover. I’ll excuse you from this period and give you a pass to the next class in case you’re late. I wouldn’t usually do this in the beginning of class, but since you’re the top student out of your entire graduating class, I think I’ll make an exception. You’re dismissed." Mr. Kerns claps Alex on the back, pushing him towards the collapsed student.

Alex looks up at his friends and pretends to strangle himself, causing the other Jets to break out in hysterical laughter. He then scrunches his nose, then leans down and hoists the passed out student over his shoulder, taking his pass and waving to his friends who are making faces at him, he then slips out the door and slams it shut behind him. Mr. Kerns clears his throat and turns back to the rest of his conscious students, resuming the roll call.

"Yo." replies a very sexy-looking young man with long platinum blonde hair and ice blue eyes. A bunch of the girls in the class look over at the student that was just called, whispering to one another on how hot he looks. The young man listens to all the gossip going around about him, smirking slightly, crossing his arms over his chest and propping his feet on the bar at the very front of the room.

"Yeah, here." says a girl that’s sitting behind Miss Avalon, she has short purple hair and dark blue eyes, she’s wearing a white tanktop with a leather vest over it, blue jeans and red sneakers. She glares at a girl to her right who is laughing at her, socking the unsuspecting student in the arm. A muffled yelp escapes the girl who was punched, she covers her hand with her mouth and rubs her sore arm with her other hand.

"Here." Peter replies, not looking up from the book he is reading. Sonny sniggers at him, mimicking his expression, causing Arab to laugh quietly. "Damn, Paris, you sound like a Square or something. ‘Here, Mr. Kerns. Give me lots of homework, I’m a geek who loves school.’" the blonde laughs, getting a glare from Mr. Kerns.

"Here." reply two voices at once, making a few students look around, confused as to why two people are answering to the same name. Mr. Kerns blinks a few times, then looks at his clipboard. He rolls his eyes, clearing his throat again.

"I see, we have two of you. Let me make it more specific, so we can get going with class.

Carson, Francis." he replies to the double-voiced answer.

"That’s me. Here." a first voice pipes up, belonging to a girl with a long silvery braid adorned with tiny rainbow streaks, offset by piercing lavender eyes. She is wearing a loose short-sleeved orange shirt that says ‘Cheery Morning People Should be Shot’, baggy green khaki cargo pants and blue Airborne shoes. She brushes her spiky bangs out of her eyes, looks over at a girl sitting to her right and sticks out her tongue. She then raises her hand, clearing her throat.

"Yes, Miss Carson?" Mr. Kerns says, surprised at the suddenly raised hand.

"Mr. Kerns... Don’t call me by my real name," she says vehemently, "Francis just sounds so........dorky." The girl sitting next to her grins, elbowing her in the stomach. "It’s probably because you ARE dorky......FRANCIS." the girl says smartly, breaking out into hysterical laughter.

"And, what name would you like me to call you by, Miss Carson?" Mr. Kerns says, ignoring the other amused girl. Francis shrugs, then snaps her fingers together, like an idea had just hit her.

"Frankie. I’d like you to call me Frankie..." she suggests.

Mr. Kerns raises an eyebrow at the suggested name, then shrugs and erases the name ‘Francis’ from his list, replacing it with ‘Frankie’. Frankie sees this and sighs in relief. "Thanks. You have effectively renewed my faith in humanity for the day." she says casually flipping her hip-length braid over her shoulder. The girl sitting next to her rolls her eyes, yawning lazily and crosses her eyes, bored with it all.

"Carson.............Ridder?" Mr. Kerns squints at the name on the list, not sure if he pronounced it correctly. He glances up at the class, looking around. A hand raises lazily, belonging to the girl sitting next to Frankie. She’s slumped in her chair, feet resting on top of the chair in front of hers.

"That would be me, Doc. But, it’s Ryder, man. Ryder’s my name." she says, grinning sideways at Frankie, her emerald green eyes glittering bemusedly. She drops her arm and combs her fingers through her waist-length chestnut brown hair. She chews on the wad of gum in her mouth, creating an enormous bubble. Frankie smirks and reaches over with her left hand, popping the bubble, making a quite loud noise. Ryder rolls her eyes and continues chewing her gum, straightening her orange flannel vest, which covered a green tie-dye shirt with a whale on the front, belly up and with x’s for eyes. Below the image were the words ’Nuke the Whales’ in bold black bubble letters. She is also wearing baggy dark denim pants and green combat boots, which were laced with glow-in-the-dark shoelaces with little green aliens holding up peace signs.

Mr. Kerns rolled his eyes again, making a note on his list on how to pronounce her name correctly.

"That’d be me." responds the girl sitting next to Miss Alves, the one with spiky black hair and burgundy eyes. She resumes filing her nails, which are painted black. She’s wearing a black shirt with the emblem of the gothic band Godsmack on it, on top of a long sleeved white t-shirt, a red plaid skirt that resembles a Scottish kilt, black tights and blood red clunker boots laced with neon yellow shoelaces.

"Present!" replies a sickeningly-cheery voice, belonging to a overly-pink blonde in the front row with cornflower blue eyes. Everything she’s wearing is pink, even her shoes and socks. She is wearing a short vinyl skirt on top of pink fishnet tights; a baby pink tank top and a pink vinyl jacket on top with pink fuzz around the collar and wrists. Her hair is in a high ponytail that cascades down her back, the tresses curling here and there. She smiles innocently, her eyes lined with glittery pink eyeliner, her lips painted with translucent pink lip gloss.

Mr. Kerns raises both eyebrows at the blonde young man with empty ice blue eyes, giving him a once over. The teacher then glances to the boy next to him, noticing that they both are wearing almost the same thing: khaki pants, black sneakers and gray sweatshirts with the words ‘Autumn Ridge High’ and a giant panther on the front. Mr. Kerns scratches his head, shaking it slightly in defeat.

"Yeah." It is the boy sitting next to Kinzler, he has brown hair styled like a crew cut and chocolate brown eyes, which are framed by thin-framed glasses.

"Mm-hmm." this voice belongs to a rather tall girl sitting to the right of Miss Avalon, with dark blonde hair wound in spiral pigtails and sky blue eyes. She’s wearing a leather jacket with the sleeves cut off over a gray long-sleeved shirt that says ‘Autumn Ridge Varsity Lacrosse’ on the front in crimson letters, two lacrosse rackets crossed over each other just below it. She also has on baggy black jeans with a white stripe down the outside of each leg and purple Nikes.

"Here, Mr. Kerns." comes a voice that belongs to a shapely girl with waist length blonde hair and sapphire eyes. She dons a white blouse, crimson sweater vest, red plaid skirt and white knee-high socks, along with white and blue running shoes.

"Here!" squeaks a high voice, belonging to a rather short girl with short strawberry hair and royal blue eyes. She has on a light blue dress and a jean jacket, with leather sandals. Mr. Kerns winces at the high pitch of the girl’s voice, reluctantly nods and marks her present.

"Present." a the girl sitting in front of Frankie says, straightening in her chair. She has shoulder length, platinum blonde hair tied in twin pigtail braids and hazel eyes, freckles are splashed across her nose. She’s fitted with a knee-length, sleeveless black dress and high-heeled black shoes that strap near the ankle. Mr. Kerns smiles appreciatively and nods, continuing.

"Uh, yeah." interjects Sonny, stuffing his hands into his leather jacket and resting one of his

jean-clad legs on the bent knee of the other, tapping his black Adidas shoe-encased foot to the beat of the song playing on the stereo he had on his lap, hidden from view.

"Yup." Arab looks up from his Playboy swimsuit issue magazine, rolling it up and shoving it into his book bag. He folds his arms over his head, slouching in his chair. His black and red Thundercats shirt is seen, he reaches down and ties the shoelace of his white Airborne shoes, then brushes his baggy green khaki pants before he resumes resting his head against folded arms, his green eyes closing.

"Here." pipes up a sultry voice, the owner being a girl sitting behind Miss Davis, she has short, bouncy brown hair and glittering violet eyes. She’s wearing a white shirt with a red Care Bear and rainbow on it, extremely short cut-off jeans, baby blue socks and expensive brown leather sandals.

"Present, Mr. Kerns." says a velvety voice belonging to a girl sitting next to Miss Davis, she has knee-length blonde hair, ice blue eyes and a black headband. Her lips are painted with dark red lipstick, everything she wears is either dark red or black. She has a black jeans jacket, a skimpy red dress, and black clunker boots. Sonny chokes on his gum when he hears the voice, slumping down into his chair even more, making sure not to be seen.

"Wilkins, Alex.........oh, yes, he is excused. Hum, let’s see...........Wilkins, Shojn. No? Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised, but alas, life does go on. Now that roll is over, class, I’d like you to take your English Lit textbooks and turn to page 35, assignment B is due this Friday. It’s my favorite kind of assignment.........an essay. Right this down if you forget. I want a five page essay on the ethics of five of the many social groups that are in our lovely Autumn Ridge, one page on each group you research. One of them may be the social group you are in, another can be a group including staff members if you wish. The textbook has all the information on essay writing you will need, the only work you have to do is study the social groups at school throughout the week and incorporate them into your final writing piece, which will only be accepted in correct format, blue or black ink, and with impeccable grammar and word usage. Since I’ve had most of you for the last three years, this should be a piece of cake for you. However, the handful of new students that are in my class will require some help from the veteran students. If any of you new students have trouble even after you seek guidance from a fellow classmate, I will give you a three-day extension, making the paper due on the following Monday. And, because this is the first day and you all need time to walk around and get adjusted to your new schedule, this class period has come to an end. After you gather your things and tell me at least one social group you plan on researching, you are dismissed. Have a good rest of the day." Mr. Kerns concludes, writing down the assignment on the whiteboard in bright green ink, making sure no student misses the announcement when they walk out the door.

Scene opens on the main hallway of Autumn Ridge High, where masses of students are bustling about, trying to get to their next classes on time. Towards the front of the hall, three of the Jets stand outside the wooden door marked ‘Nurse’s Office’ in silver letters. Arab is leaning against the wall next to the large door, his Playboy swimsuit issue open once again and his nose buried into the pages, now and again he casts sideways glances down the halls, making sure the coast was clear. Paris and Sonny are standing on either side of him, acting casual and looking at the pictures in Arab’s magazine over his shoulder. The green-eyed Jet smirks, reaching a center-fold of the famous model of the twentieth century, Carmen Electra. He holds the pages open and pulls the magazine a little away from his face, so his two friends can see easily. Sonny and Paris stare at the picture, whistling in amazement.

"Shit, dude, she’s one piece of work. I think this chick is one of THE hottest bitches I have EVER seen." Paris says, eyeing the picture and glancing towards his two friends. Sonny and Arab nod in unison, not taking their eyes off the magazine. Sonny grinned hungrily. "Yeah, you got that right, man. Let me just say that she’s got a set of the biggest jugs I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. I’d like to tear off a chunk of her and have her for lunch." the blonde replies, staring at the picture almost hypnotically. Paris and Arab agree audibly, grunting their approval of the last comment made.

Suddenly, the door of the nurse’s office opens and Alex Wilkins jumps out of the doorway, curious as to what his friends are looking at. He approaches Arab, resting his arm on his taller friend’s shoulder, staring into the magazine. "Damn, who’s that? A lady friend of yours? Can I have her number?" Alex comments. Arab rolls his eyes and closes the magazine, stuffing it into his back pack again. "Shit, I wish. Her name’s Carmen Electra, and she’s probably loooong dead already. This is one of my old man’s collection pieces, he got ‘em from his grandfather, who died in 2079. Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and meet her, that’d be like a wet dream come true. Anyways, man, what took so long? How’s Wheezy Barnie holdin’ up? He dead yet? C’mon, give me at least SOME good news." Arab answers, punching his best friend in the opposite arm that he did previously.

Alex grins at his friend’s sense of humor, running a hand through his spiky brown hair and sighing when he realizes for about the millionth time that day that it would never cooperate and lay down. But that style seemed to work with him, it earned him the attention of most, if not all, of the hot and popular girls of lovely little Autumn Ridge High. He casts a sly smirk towards Arab, his prussian blue eyes glittering maliciously.

"Well, sorry my man, but old Wheezy’s doin’ just fine. He just got too nervous and blacked out, like he always does. But I could’ve sworn that this time he’d just keel over, but I was only dreaming. Doc Harrell had me sign some forms and let me go, but I thought that I’d check out some things before I went back to class. Those ‘things’ could be more specifically classified as the new nurse, Annette. I am telling you, dude, she’s like the Carmen Electra of this century. If that bitch was alive now, I bet that Annette could give her a run for her money. But still, Carmen’s the nicest piece of art I’ve seen, so far. So, what’d I miss in class? Mr. Kerns already told me about the essay, I got it all written down on the pass he gave me. But anything new?" Alex says causally, glancing up and down the hallways, giving off a chin-up gesture to random people.

Arab shrugs nonchalantly, looking up towards the ceiling. He then looks back down to his best friend, a crooked grin gracing his face. He clears his throat, then grabs Alex by the sleeve of his letter jacket, dragging him outside the school and to the courtyard, Sonny and Paris following behind quickly. "Man, there is so much I have to tell you. Class was actually fun today, we’d better write this down in the book of world records or something, ‘cause I’m sure it’ll never happen again." he shoots back, grinning fully this time. Alex raises an eyebrow, sitting on the wall of the large inactive fountain set in the very center of the courtyard.

"Okay, pretty much the only thing old man Kerns did was call roll and hand out the assignment, that was it. But it was the funnies thing, the bastard finally got a taste of his own medicine. It was great, Avalon totally gave him a run for his money. She was asleep when Kerns called her name, but when she woke up, she shot that venomous sense of humor she has at the dear old teacher. They went at it for a few minutes, but you could tell that Kerns ended up the loser after their little fight. But you’re damn lucky you weren’t in class today, ‘cause your fan club president, Sandy Davis, was looking all around for you. She had her bimbo friends with her too, Winnie Thomas and Jane Marshall. They were practically worshipping the ground she walked, it was enough to make a guy throw himself off a bridge."

"I hope you knew what you were doin’ when you made the varsity team, Alex, ‘cause the QB Chip Arthur and his cronies were there, all of ‘em. I know you could kick their sorry asses anyday, but it was just too much stupidity in one room for anyone to handle. All the Aces were there, they’re a bunch of hot chicks, lemme tell you that--and they don’t put up with anybody’s shit. There were some new kids, but they seemed pretty comfortable with starting their senior years at a brand new school. I’m jealous of the new kids ‘cause Kerns is givin’ them a three-day extension on the essay, I wish I could have that extra time to do it, ‘cause you KNOW I usually do stuff at the last moment. I just can’t figure out what it is with those new kids, man, they’re like nothin’ I’ve ever seen. They’re all chicks too, really good looking and all, real Ace material. They’ve got their own way of handling things, I’m pretty sure that they know each other real well. I didn’t really get a good look at all of them, but it seemed that the ringleader of the bunch was a chick by the name of Ryder Carson. She’s one nice piece of work, man, kinda like Carmen in the mag, nicely equipped if ya know what I mean. You’ve really gotta meet her, I think you two would have a lot in common. She's got a sister too. Maybe you’ll get a chance to catch her at the rally tonight, whaddya think?" Arab suggests, looking Alex straight in the eyes.

Alex pulls his glance away from casually glancing down the halls and lands his eyes on his best friend’s ones. He shrugs nonchalantly, sticking his hands into the pockets of his letter jacket and slouching down against the wall. "I don’t know, dude. Are you sure this one is any different than the others? Does she actually think for herself? I mean, the last chick we thought was like that was freshman year with.....ugh........Sandy Davis. We really thought she was a nice girl and good girlfriend material. But then she turned out to be just another brainless blonde, like all the chicks at this school are. Well, besides the Aces, they’re real cool for chicks. But I could never get with one of them, they’d probably end up using me like Sandy did last year. What makes this chick any different from Sandy? Are her jugs bigger than Carmen’s or something?" Alex says reluctantly.

"Man, you KNOW that nobody’s jugs are bigger than Carmen’s. But seriously, man, I know it was wrong of Sandy to play you like that, you didn’t deserve that shit she gave you last year. One thing that’s different between Ryder and Sandy is that Ryder's not just a brainless blonde. She’s got the longest brown hair, kind of like Shojn, but with green eyes and....other things that he doesn’t have. But you get where I’m goin’, right? She looks real smart, is really cute, and I think that if you don’t meet her eventually, you’re gonna seriously regret it later on. Besides, like I said with Sandy, you never know until you try. What’s it gonna hurt you? Now c’mon, we have gym next. My favorite subject, I’m NOT about to be late to Jackson’s class. Are we going or what?" Arab says, shoving Alex towards the east wing of the school. Alex blinks rapidly, shrugging yet again.

"You’re right, man. Let’s go. I think that this year’s gonna be a lot better than the last three for us, you know? Things are gonna change and I’m gonna make sure that all you guys are happy right along with me." Alex says shortly, quickening his pace towards the gymnasium. Arab grins, clapping his best friend on the back, his green eyes glittering with bemusement. "Yeah, man. You got that right. Just trust me, and we’ll glide through this year, no problem. We’re gonna rule the school---not like we already don’t or anything. But you know what I mean, right guys?" Arab replies, looking at his friends. Paris looks up and scrunches his nose. "You know what I figured out, Arab? You talk too much, way too much. It’s a wonder you haven’t talked anyone’s ears off yet. Just do something for me, man, will ya?" the raven-haired Jet asks. Arab smirks at the comment, giving a chin-up gesture towards his shorter friend. "What would that be, dude?" he responds. Paris stops to open the wide wooden door that leads to the gymnasium. He swings it wide, tossing a glance over his shoulder.

Scene opens on the courtyard of Autumn Ridge High, in a far corner near the staff parking lot. There is a picnic-like table in the clearing, a bunch of girls are gathered around and on top of it. Upon closer inspection, the group turns out to be the bunch of tough-looking girls in Mr. Kerns' first period class. A few of them are sitting on the connected benches while others are lying on the wall next to the table, two however are perched on the top. The two girls leading the conversation are the brunette and her silvery-haired sister, they are gabbing about nothing in particular and making wild hand gestures in the air, coming dangerously close to decapitating innocent passerby's.

"Hey Frankie, did you see all the gorgeous guys in our last class, huh? How about that one guy.........Jason Blue, I think his name is. Man, that is one sexy bitch, lemme tell ya." commented Dakota, tossing her cinnamon hair behind her and twisting it into a bun, securing it with a pencil. Frankie rolls her eyes and twirls a long strand of yellow gum around her middle finger, sucking it back inside her mouth and proceeding to flip off the shorter girl.

"Yeah, that's what all their names are. I've seen it before and frankly, D, I don't give a flying fuck. He's just a pack of muscles with a loaded and cocked trigger if you know what I mean. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt." she retorts, rolling her eyes skyward and starting to whistle casually. Ryder grins and twirls a strand of hair around her finger, humming along to the song.

I’m gonna wash that man right outta my hair

Gonna wash that man right outta my life........

The other girls all groan and cover their ears, some writhing in mock agony. Yvette slaps her hand to her forehead, exhaling slowly. "Gawd, what IS it with you two and ancient music? That is SOOOOO last millenium, it’s making me wanna hurl." Frankie and Ryder smirk at each other, knowing that they succeeded in annoying the living hell out of their friends...again.