Enjoy

Disclaimer: I don't own Wreck-It Ralph nor do I own the Breakfast Club

"November 2, 1984. Litwak's Highschool, 'Niceland'.

Dear Mr. Gene

We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did WAS wrong, but we think it's crazy to write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? We see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms, and most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain. An athlete. A basket case. A prince. And a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o' clock this morning. We were brainwashed..."

The first to pull up to the loop is Felix Fixton. He glanced up at Litwak High and sighed. "I can't believe you can't get me out of this." His father tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sighed along with his son. Felix continued. "It's so absurd I have to be here on a Saturday. It's not like I'm defective."

His father chuckled. "Look, I'll make it up to you sooner or later." He then handed Felix his backpack and patted his shoulder. "Have a good day." The teen didn't answer. All he did was get up from his seat and slam the car door once he was out. This was downright absurd. Why, he asked himself, should he have to waste his time here, on a Saturday nonetheless, in detention. It was the most stupid thing he could ever think of in his entire life.

The next to pull up was Ralph Reilly. He was the nerd of the school. And this was the first time he had ever been in detention. Though it didn't sit to well with his mother who was sitting in the drivers seat. "Is this the first or the last time you do this, Ralph?" Her son paused before answering. "Last." Was his short reply. His mother gave his a disciplinary look. "Well you get in there and use this time to your advantage."

Ralph sighed. "Mom, we're just supposed to go in there and sit down the whole time. We can't do anything. "Well figure out a way to study."

He sat still.

"Well go!"

Sighing, Ralph retrieved his belongings and left his mothers car.

And next came the stuck up athlete of the school, Turbo Clark.

"Hey, I screwed around." His father spoke up. "Guys always screw around and there's nothing wrong with that." He paused to look at his son. "Only you got caught, sport."

Turbo sat silently as he awaited more of his fathers lecture which he knew was coming. "You wanna fool around? You wanna miss a metting? No school's gonna take you if they see your disciplinary case, Turbo. Now go." Doing as his father said, Turbo left the vehicle with his back pack. He said nothing to his father.

Next, almost being hit by a car and not caring, was Tamora Calhoun.

In said car was Vanellope von Schweetz. As she exited the vehicle, she was about to wave to her parents but they sped off in a hurry leaving the teen a little hurt. Shrugging the feeling off, Vanellope walked up to the school along with the rest of the five.

Today was gonna be a long one.