A/N: Don't own Hey Arnold. It's Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon making money off of it, not moi!


Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was certain she was losing her mind.

There could be nothing but pure mental disability to explain the shift in her universe.

This can't be happening...this isn't happening!

She repeated the words over and over in her mind to temper the rage she had towards the sight in front of her.


Rhonda spent the first thirteen years of her life with one goal: trying to escape from the obsessive clutches of Curly Gammelthorpe.

Sentences like I could never love you, you psychopath or Leave me in peace, stalker we're an absolute must in her vocabulary. Her personal favorite was the slaps to Curly's face whenever he would scream: GIVE DADDY SOME SUGAR!

It was nothing against Curly, per say. His attention was flattering, though bordering on obsessive. But he just wasn't IT for her. He was too creepy, too nerdy, too gauche.

After all, the Lloyd's deserve the best, n'est-ce pas?

But something started to happen in the seventh grade. Probably when Curly stopped letting his mom saddle him with bowl cuts, allowing him to opt for a longer, shaggier look. Or the day when he came to school without his trademark glasses, allowing everyone to become enraptured by his hazel eyes. Was it when he started dressing in a stylish manner, setting aside his shorts for fitted slacks and oxfords? Or maybe it was the growth spurt of the eighth grade or the muscle growth due to his presence on the track and field team?

Rhonda fleetingly realized that Curly was attractive and saw that she could possibly have a new plaything.

But the final strike was when Curly left her be.

He was courteous and kind, but never passed the limit of the respect one gives an acquaintance. It was as if she was no longer of any importance to him.

No letters. No attention grabbing gestures. No diatribes proclaiming "Let me have a lock of your hair!"

Something stirred inside Rhonda. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. She started to crave, to desire...THADDEUS 'CURLY' GAMMELTHROPE!

And the worst pain of it was that he didn't care about her at all.


And this is where she stands, watching him in the morning during their second month of high school. The anger builds inside her when she sees Curly flirting with Helga G. Pataki in the freshman lockers of Hillwood High.

Rage blurs her vision and removes her inhibitions as she stomps over to the pair, ripping them apart.

"Got a problem, Rhonda-loid?"

What's happening to me? She thought as the words began to pour out like verbal diarrhea.

"Yes I have a problem, Pataki!" she spat. "I don't like when people touch what doesn't belong to them. Thaddeus is MINE, Pataki! I'm Curly's GIRL! ALWAYS HAVE BEEN, ALWAYS WILL BE! Do well to remember that!"

Helga and Curly gaped at Rhonda. Curly's face lit up in a smile and Helga stared in pure disbelief.

Curly quickly secured his arms around Rhonda's waist and whispered in her ears "My raven-haired princess, may I stroke your beautiful hair?"

Rhonda removed her venomous gaze from Helga and let out a giggle. "Anytime you want, my darling."

As they walked down the hallway, Curly threw a wink back at Helga, who still looked on in shock.

And Helga said my plan wouldn't work! Curly thought as he linked his fingers with Rhonda and let out one of his infamous cackles.