"Stray Principles"
A Hey Arnold fanfiction
by zamros pseudonym.
PLZ EMALE ME I AM SO LONELY
All characters whoever makes hey arnold blabhlhablhblhblhb
Curly had been fed up with the way everyone treated him. From the time he was denied his right as ball monitor for that week, he had been yearning for vengeance. Sure, he got his turn, but it was the IDEA that he could be so blatantly ignored by his superiors that sent him over the edge. It had been five years since that incident, and now as a ninth grader, he was going to finally give back to the student body what they truly deserved.
The other kids haven't changed much since those ragtag fun filled days of P.S. 118. Arnold was still his benevolent philanthropic self, Helga still kept up her secret stalking act, Gerald remained Arnold's best friend. The only one who seemed to dynamically change their personality was Phoebe. Although she used to love school, the pressures of the years between then and now had changed her attitude. She, like Curly, was sick of the crap that the school system had put her through, and vowed, like Curly, to give back all that she was given.
With these shared attitudes, Curly and Phoebe quickly became friends. They were inseperable, and although they were often made fun of, when they were with each other nothing got them down. When Harold threw a bucket of bleach in Curly's face, Phoebe was at his side in the hospital for all those weeks. When Sid called Phoebe a "total and complete cunt" and stomped on her glasses, Curly spit pig's blood in his face and babbled a bunch of nonsense. They looked out for each other, and that was all that they needed.
But, according to them, the other kids needed something else.
"We have to talk!" Curly told Phoebe one morning.
"What is it? Did Stinky push you in to a busy intersection again?" Phoebe asked, since it HAD happened before.
"No, well... yes, but that's not what I want to talk about!"
"Well, Curly, what is it you want?"
"It's my dad! He just got all these new guns at his shop!"
Curly's dad owned a gun shop. He had also encouraged Curly to play with them at a young age, which may have fueled his insanity at this age.
"Yeah? So?"
"I haven't gotten to the good part yet! He says we can BORROW some!!"
Phoebe gasped. "Do you mean...?"
"Yes!! We can finally get the PLAN underway!!!!"
Both of them started laughing maniacally. Doing so in the middle of the hallway, however, attracted some stares, and a book to the head from Harold to Curly.
"Fucking freak." Harold said to him.
A Hey Arnold fanfiction
by zamros pseudonym.
PLZ EMALE ME I AM SO LONELY
All characters whoever makes hey arnold blabhlhablhblhblhb
Curly had been fed up with the way everyone treated him. From the time he was denied his right as ball monitor for that week, he had been yearning for vengeance. Sure, he got his turn, but it was the IDEA that he could be so blatantly ignored by his superiors that sent him over the edge. It had been five years since that incident, and now as a ninth grader, he was going to finally give back to the student body what they truly deserved.
The other kids haven't changed much since those ragtag fun filled days of P.S. 118. Arnold was still his benevolent philanthropic self, Helga still kept up her secret stalking act, Gerald remained Arnold's best friend. The only one who seemed to dynamically change their personality was Phoebe. Although she used to love school, the pressures of the years between then and now had changed her attitude. She, like Curly, was sick of the crap that the school system had put her through, and vowed, like Curly, to give back all that she was given.
With these shared attitudes, Curly and Phoebe quickly became friends. They were inseperable, and although they were often made fun of, when they were with each other nothing got them down. When Harold threw a bucket of bleach in Curly's face, Phoebe was at his side in the hospital for all those weeks. When Sid called Phoebe a "total and complete cunt" and stomped on her glasses, Curly spit pig's blood in his face and babbled a bunch of nonsense. They looked out for each other, and that was all that they needed.
But, according to them, the other kids needed something else.
"We have to talk!" Curly told Phoebe one morning.
"What is it? Did Stinky push you in to a busy intersection again?" Phoebe asked, since it HAD happened before.
"No, well... yes, but that's not what I want to talk about!"
"Well, Curly, what is it you want?"
"It's my dad! He just got all these new guns at his shop!"
Curly's dad owned a gun shop. He had also encouraged Curly to play with them at a young age, which may have fueled his insanity at this age.
"Yeah? So?"
"I haven't gotten to the good part yet! He says we can BORROW some!!"
Phoebe gasped. "Do you mean...?"
"Yes!! We can finally get the PLAN underway!!!!"
Both of them started laughing maniacally. Doing so in the middle of the hallway, however, attracted some stares, and a book to the head from Harold to Curly.
"Fucking freak." Harold said to him.