Yeah, and I bet all these years that you dilweeds thought the bruises were only from the fights.
-o-o-o-
You know what? You would think that after a while, the two wouldn't get bruises anymore. Having been in so many fights with each other, you would also think that their skin should've been immune to any sort of discoloration, but alas there was always some marking or another on either of them at any given moment. While we're at it, one would also assume that the two must've gotten in a lot of fights in order for these sorts of things to happen, right? Well, that would only be half the truth.
-o-
It was truly a rare occasion that either Beavis or Butt-head ever deemed it necessary to go to school, but today was Monday and both Saturday and Sunday had really sucked. There was nothing on TV, there was no Anderson or Stewart to bother, and there was no Todd to curb their boredom. Public education was unfortunately and inevitably the next best thing.
"Good morning, pupils!" Mr. Van Driessen chirped at the front of the classroom. He flitted across the chalkboard in an attempt to write down some lengthy words, but Beavis and Butt-head were too busy contemplating whether he just called the kids an eyeball or not to care. Lining their faces and arms were bruises in all sizes and colors and they did not go unnoticed by their teacher.
"Oh my goodness, Beavis! Butt-head! Where did all these bruises come from?" the grown flower child asked, raising each teenager's arms and examining the pale skin underneath. His voice was calm yet concerned, as it often was when the two presented signs of the lack of a guardian in their lives.
Butt-head merely chuckled while Beavis yelped at the unsuspecting teacher, "Ah! Don't touch me, ass wipe!" He tore his arm from Van Driessen's grasp and mumbled under his breath. In pulling his hand back towards his own body, he hit Butt-head on the arm—more specifically, on a bruise.
"Augh! Don't touch me, butt munch!" Butt-head retorted, using the accident as an excuse to punch Beavis in the face. Beavis, in turn, took that as a cue to kick Butt-head in the nads, and the exchange of hitting and kicking continued until Mr. Van Driessen sacrificed his well-being in an attempt to separate the two.
"You two have become exceptionally distressing in the past week," the teacher noted, holding the two back by their foreheads.
Butt-head disagreed. "Beavis just bruises easily 'cause he's a wussie. Uh huh huh."
The blonde told his companion to shut up, and offered the logic that no, he did not bruise easily; Butt-head just hit him a lot in the same spot because he was a boring dilweed with nothing better to do.
"I'm afraid I can't allow you two to continue your presence here in such a violent state of mind. I'm going to have to send you home for the day," their virtuous teacher said as he wrote down a pass. He also wrote down a number for an anger management hotline. "I want you to call this number whenever you're feeling angry, or could use someone to talk to rather than to beat up. Have a good day now." He handed the two papers to Beavis, who held them for about six and a half seconds before walking out with Butt-head, crumpling the papers, and tossing them to the ground after missing the garbage can.
"Huh huh huh, if I had known beating each other up got us out of school, I would've hit you more often."
"Shut up butthole! I could kick your ass—see? You have bruises, too."
Butt-head ignored the fact that Beavis was talking about the ones on his arms and said, "Bruises on my knuckles from hitting you don't count, dumbass."
"Heh heh heh, oh yeah. Getting out of school is pretty cool, but getting hit so much sucks."
"You wuss."
"No I'm not! Like, the bruises and stuff are really cool, but the hitting kinda sucks, you know?"
"Huh huh huh, uhhh...no."
"Heh heh."
-o-
breakin' the law breakin' the law