Someone wondered where the chick from Arnold and Helga's school project went. So I made something up. :)

"BRRRRRING!" the last school bell of P.S. 118 rang out, releasing a torrent of schoolkids. Kids like Stinky, Sid, and Harold dashed out the door. Yet, Arnold and Helga shuffled out the door slowly. Gerald and Phoebe still stood within the classroom. Helga cast her gaze back into the room.

"You coming, Phoebes?" Helga asked her friend mildly. But it was Gerald who answered her.

"Nah, me and Phoebe here were planning to go get a pizza," Gerald said with a wink towards Phoebe. "Y'all can come too, if you like."

"Bleh," Helga said, her brows lowering. "No, go on ahead so I don't have to endure those dopey stares of yours. But be good to Phoebe, Gerald, or you'll get it!" Helga shook an angry fist threateningly up in the air.

"Oh, I'll mind my manners, Miss Helga G. Pataki!" Gerald said with another wink. "I am a gentleman of my word."

"Hmm," Helga muttered out as Phoebe and Gerald bypassed Arnold and Gerald, with Phoebe giggling all the while. Arnold looked up at her.

"Do you think we should have gone with them?" he asked.

"Us?!" Helga shrugged. "We're the small fish is a big pond here. Phoebe may not look it, but she's a real man-killer, I assure you." Helga blurted out. "Only don't say I told you so. Speaking of survival, I just got through another whole day at the P.S. 118, Hillwood's least funded academic institution! I should get a T-shirt for this! In fact, I think I will!" With that, Helga strode up to a small table-booth set up on the school's blacktop and handed a green bill to Curly. With a wide-smile, Curly stuck the bill in a cash register and printed off a receipt. He then handed the receipt to Brainy, who, still breathing as heavily as ever, handed a neatly folded, bright orange T-shirt with the receipt taped on it to Helga. Helga tore off the receipt, unfolded the T-shirt, and wiggled into it so that her head stuck out of the top. With a mighty yank, it covered up the top of her dress. One book clutched under his arm, Arnold stared at her.

"So...Helga," Arnold voiced delicately, cautious to offend. "Are you doing anything this afternoon? If not then…"

"Huh?!" Helga said tensing. She hid behind her own clutched book. Helga scooted her eyes back and forth along the crowd of students to count them. "No, no, no! I've got tons of things to do! Tons! So I'll have to catch you another time!"

"Oh," Arnold spoke in a softly disappointed voice. "Well, I'll see you later, then." He stalked off.

Arnold returned to his house. The boarding house looked the same as ever, and the pigeon coop on rooftop was the same old coop, except a little too filled with dust and feathers. Arnold pushed the mesh screen up to let in a gust of fresh air. His three pet pigeons scooted out the window with delight and settled themselves down on the edge of the rooftop. With beady eyes, the three gray pigeons spun their heads all around them, then twisted their heads sideways to stare at Arnold as the boy propped open the coop door with a crate.

Arnold was too buy to care about his avian observers. Paused in thought, he rested a finger near his chin to express a loud, "hmm." Arnold swiveled his head around, then bent over to examine a box-crate on the floor.

"Edna?" Arnold coaxed. A little white hen hopped out of the box and walked around. "Oh, good," Arnold smiled. He turned head around at the sound of a sudden scuffle. Then came the sound of breaking, old wooden boards. Then Helga fell through the roof of the old pigeon coop into some hay.

"Ow!" Helga grimaced as she got up slowly from her tumble to check for broken bones. Arnold smiled a sly little smile.

"Oh, great! Helga! Here you can watch Edna while I clean the coop. Here is some grain for her." Arnold handed Helga a pail.

"Who the heck is Edna?!" Helga uttered. She peered down into a pail of loose corn.

"She's the chick from our school project," Arnold narrowed his eyes at her with some real anger. "You know, the one you didn't want to take care of?"

"Ah, like I could take a live bird home with me!" defended Helga. "It would have ended up as fluff-coated lunch meat for my monitor lizard. But more to the point, you named our chick Edna?" Helga flustered, swinging her arms. "What the heck were you thinking?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," said Arnold. "So go over there and make friends." His frown reversed into a smile.

Helga walked a few steps off. She tipped the bucket so that the white hen could dip its beak into it. Then she set the bucket down for the hen to enjoy. But as she walked away, the hen turned from the food to follow after her, watching her with curiosity. Helga took five more steps away, but the chicken followed her around some more. As much as she tried to move, Helga could not get away from her. Then Arnold popped his head out of the pigeon coop.

"Done," said Arnold. "Although I'll have to get boards to fix the roof."

"Great, now get this stalker chicken away from me," said Helga trying to shoo it away from her foot with the toes of her sneakers. Arnold smiled with suppressed laughter. "Okay. Thanks for watching Edna," the boy said smugly as he carried the chicken back into the pigeon coop to its nest box.

Ah, pizza! Elsewhere in Hillwood, Gerald and Phoebe were just finishing the last two slices of a thick crust pizza with extra cheese. Goo dripped from the slices. Gerald grinned in satisfaction.

"Um, um, um!" he said before wiping his lips with a handful of paper napkins. "Now that's good! Now what do you say? Shall we go over the museum and make it proper, respectable night out?"

"Why, thank you Gerald! That sounds delightful!" said Phoebe, brandishing those long lashes of hers. Phoebe tucked her arm into Gerald's and for once, left of her alluring, "teehee."

At the museum, Phoebe's intellectual side kicked in and she actually drifted apart from Gerald. There were so many things here! An ancient wooden boat. Rocks with trilobites. Scottish bagpipes. Phoebe and Gerald wandered into a hall of impressionist paintings. Then they turned a corner to a come face-to-face with large statues and oil paintings.

"Oh, my!" Phoebe gasped. "That statue over there is….nu..nu… nude!" The girl flustered out. She attracted Sheena's attention. The girl from their class at P.S. 118 had been drawing something in her sketchbook.

"Of course it is!" mumbled Sheena. "It's Greco-Roman. You know, there is a very long and ancient tradition of celebrating the human body in art form."

"Oh," Phoebe flustered. "People really look at art like that? And… you were looking at it?" Phoebe said slightly suspicious of Sheena's moral integrity.

"Of course!" said Sheena. "Understanding human anatomy is the first and most important step to understanding how to draw people well! I was sketching the statue! See?" Phoebe took the sketchbook from Sheena's hands to examine the page.

"Ah, Sheena. This is a picture of a mermaid with a donkey's head."

"And perfectly anatomically correct chest!" Sheena pointed out. "I think all my studying has paid off! Look, these circles might be ears! And on this other picture of mine, those blocks at the bottom are beginning to look like real feet!"

"Uh, yes," Phoebe agreed mildly. "One thing I concur is that you definitely should continue to improve your sketching skills."

"Ahem," Gerald choughed mildly, a little ill at ease. "How about you ladies and I all continue this chat somewhere else?" Gerald was happy to turn his back on the statue and paintings all around them.

The date between Gerald and Phoebe came to an end. The next school day came around. Phoebe was shifting through the contents of her locker when Sheena unexpectedly appeared with her sketchbook.

"Um, Phoebe!" Sheena muttered out, even more mild than Phoebe. "There's a favor I'd like to ask of you! The art club doesn't have anyone who'd like to act as its secretary. So could you join us? We meet only once a week!"

"The at club?" Phoebe mused. "That's an extracurricular activity I never considered! Yet, it would add some diversity and bulk to my school resume."

"So will you come?" asked Sheena. "We're meeting right now!"

"Well….." Phoebe rolled her eyes around. Helga was hiding down the hall, lurking around a corner so that she might stare at Arnold and Gerald without being noticed.

"Alright!" Phoebe uttered out with determination. "I'll do it!"

So it was that mild Sheena with the flower on her shirt, brought Phoebe into a room of mixed repute. Curly was there, making illustrations of something impossible to understand, the paint splashing from his brush all over the floor as he added too many layers. Sheena's work in progress, of course, was a bowl full of flowers. That girl called Mary was there too, as well as Katrinka, working together in a corner. Sheena set up a new easel and canvas for Phoebe to use.

"The subject for next week is people sitting!" declared Sheena. "So if you'd like you can get an early start! I'll model for you by sitting in this chair!" Sheena took a large armchair with puffy blue cushions and sat down on it. "Now try to draw me!"

"Er…" Phoebe mumbled as she picked up a paintbrush. But will Phoebe succeed in becoming a successful painter? And will we see more of that chicken? To be continued.