A/N: Hello. Welcome to 'Not a Club of Saddles Anymore'. This story's abbriviation will be NCSA. I was originally gonna call it 'Humour Club', but then I decided that was a bad name, so . . . yeah. If you like Dakota Fanning, I'm sorry, but there is slight Dakota Fanning bashing in here. There is an author of FF mentioned in this story. Please, do not ask me to be in this story. The author, Chary Moota, is one of my best friends in the real world.
Disclaimer: What? You believe in talking whales or something? No, I don't own Saddle Club. Unless Brooke Dempsey(and she is no way related to Patrick Dempsey, or so I think) is a real person, I own her. And the school Lisa is about to go, unless it's a real school, I own it too.
Not A Club of Saddles Anymore
Lisa Atwood stepped out of the car in complete misery. She had been forced by her parents to move away from Willow Creek, and move to this dumb town. On the way, she had read signs like, 'Welcome to Brooksville. Now turn around and leave.' A mile later she had seen another sign, 'I'm serious. Leave.' Then another sign, 'Why are you still heading towards this place? Turn around and go!'
Lisa was more than inclined to follow the signs' directions and leave. But alas, she could not, as she was not the one driving the car. When she arrived at the school, nearly driving off the road in the process, she stared. The school was pretty small. In fact, it didn't look much bigger than two-story house. Lisa stared at it, with her mouth agape in horror.
"I knew you'd love it!" her mother squealed. "Don't worry about meeting anyone Lisa. The school hours are over." Her mother said, dragging her daughter by the arms to the principal's office.
"Welcome to Brooke Dempsey's School for Insane Girls who want lower cholesterol." The principal, Mr. Witazap greeted. He was a slightly-no really- chunky man, with a tacky pink tie, and an ugly brown suit. What?! I don't want lower cholesterol! And I'm not insane!
"Erm, can I go look around the school?" Lisa asked, after shaking his hand.
"Sure. Do what ever you want. It's not like we care about what you do here or anything like that." The principal said. The assistant principal, Ms. Heckgans, was not even paying attention to the fact that Lisa was there.
When Lisa traveled down the very small staircase, she could see that what Mr.Witasomething had said was obvious. There were two girls, coming out of a classroom, with a sign on the door that said, 'Yearbook'. One was short, and appeared to be a little chunky. The other one was tall and skinny. They were both singing 'Feliz Navidad' at the top of their lungs. And it was May.
"Ah, the things you can do once school hours are over," the tall one said happily.
Shorty was about to open her mouth to agree, when she spotted Lisa. "CODE 12! I REPEAT! CODE 12!" Shorty screeched in a very Dakota Fanning like way, and she and her tall friend skadaddled out the door.
Lisa stared. "Don't mind them. They're here for a reason. They are insane." Came a voice, which was also coming out from Yearbook. A blonde girl, who looked to be no older than eight, came out of the door. "They're the oldest in Yearbook, but probably the most deserving to be here."
"They have high cholesterol?"
"I think Blue does."
"Who the heck is Blue? And who the heck are you?" Lisa growled.
"Oh. My bad. My name is Katie. And Blue is Shorty McShortshort." Katie said, her perfect voice mocking. This girl is a Mary Sue. Lisa thought, mortified of having to go to school with insane girls and Mary Sues.
"Where's the Saddle Club when you need them?" Lisa growled aloud.
"The who? And I don't mean the band." Katie asked, lifting a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
"Uh, no one."
"Wanna be best friends?"
"You're not crazy right?"
"No!"
"Okay then!" Lisa cried perkily, skipping back to the office like a little two-year old.
Meet Katie. She's actually like . . . 12 or something like that. Yeah . . . I based all these people off ones I know in real life. Code 12 . . . I'll get into what Code 12 is later.
