Author's note:

Contains GAYNESS. OH NOES. Back button if you don't like it blah blah. Happy new year! Unless you're reading this after the new year, in which case, erm... Happy whatever-day-it-is? D:

"Ah, marriage..." Gary let out a dramatic sigh as he finished buttoning up his shirt. "It brings a tear to your eye, right, Petey?"

"Uh, sure."

"Yep," Gary continued, examining himself in the mirror critically. "Today's the day I finally pass on the torch and give up my place as the craziest person in Bullworth. Still," he mused, "I had a good run."

Petey had to admit that his friend had a point. Much as he liked Mr. Galloway and Ms. Philips, they had to be totally insane to invite the kids of Bullworth Academy to their wedding. It was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives, so why the hell did they want a bunch of the worst students in the state there? It made no sense. Weren't teachers supposed to be, you know... smart?

Then again, they taught at Bullworth. Being clinically insane was probably a job requirement.

"I mean, they picked Jimmy to be their ring-bearer. Jimmy Hopkins, human potato. That's way crazier than anything I've ever done." Gary grimaced at the mirror before turning to face Petey. "Imagine looking back at your wedding photographs in years to come and seeing him squinting out at you like a mentally imbalanced chimp. Ugh, it's enough to make me wanna..." He trailed off. "Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you wearing a bow-tie, Femme-boy? Seriously?"

Petey folded his arms defensively. "Just leave me alone, Gary. We're all going to look like dumb jerks dressed like this."

"Hey, speak for yourself," Gary sniffed. "Some of us are perfectly capable of pulling this off, my friend. And others..." He flinched. "Urgh. Jimmy in a tuxedo. I'm seriously going to fucking throw up."

Much as Petey wanted to leap to his friend's defence, he had to admit that was an odd mental image. "Maybe he won't be wearing one," he suggested. "He might, um... just wear a shirt, or something?"

Gary shuddered theatrically. "Gross. Only you would think that Jimmy wearing nothing but a shirt would be a comforting idea."

"That's not what I meant." God damn it. Petey glared at Gary's back, the colour rising in his cheeks. "God, Gary."

"Sure, Pete, sure. I bet you lie awake at night wishing you were Zoe, right?" Gary quickly adopted his special making-fun-of-Petey falsetto voice. "Alas, fair James, why must you spend your time fornicating with that gravelly-voiced redhead when you could have me, Bullworth's purest and fairest young maiden?"

"You're not funny," said Petey, completely mortified.

"Don't worry. Maybe after your voice breaks, he'll love you too."

"Quit it!"

"Perhaps you should start wearing stupid stompy boots? Get a tattoo? Put padding in your bra?"

Petey turned away from Gary. Over the years he'd learned that the best thing to do in these situations was just to ignore the obnoxious jerk. It wasn't easy when he insisted on sniggering like that, though.

Jerk.

"Don't be like that, little Petey!" Gary threw a discarded sock at the smaller boy's head. "Lighten up, God. We can go back to discussing how dumb everyone is going to look in their wedding clothes, if you want."

"Whatever."

"Don't sulk, Petey. Girls sulk. So, hey, we'll get to see the teachers in formalwear. Wait - Edna in formalwear. Gross." He mimed vomiting. "That's going to be more sickening than her food."

Even Petey was starting to feel slightly queasy, now. He hadn't really thought much about how weird it would be to see everyone in fancy wedding clothes instead of their standard Bullworth attire. Although, saying that, it somehow didn't seem strange seeing Gary in his suit...

Then again, lots of stories tended to have the devil appearing in a smart black suit, didn't they? No wonder Gary looked so comfortable in it. Petey couldn't help but wonder about what would happen if someone threw holy water over him during the service or something. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if it'd make Gary scream and fizzle away in a flare of unholy fire.

"What're you looking at me like that for?" Gary's voice broke into Petey's thoughts. "Oh, are you fantasizing about me again, Pete? Teenage hormones flaring up all over the place? I'd indulge you, but my pants might get all wrinkled..."

"Shut up," Petey replied, wishing he didn't sound so whiny when he said it. "I was just wondering how you'd be able to go to the wedding. You know, with demons not being able to set foot on holy ground and all..."

Gary snickered appreciatively. "Not bad, Petey. Keep that kind of thing up and you might actually grow some balls one of these days. Won't that be exciting?"

Petey was spared any further comment by a knock at the dorm-room door. A muffled voice came from the other side. "You guys ready yet?"

"Not quite," Gary called. "Me and Petey are in the middle of a really filthy sex-session. Come back later." He shot Petey the most evil, cruel grin that he'd ever seen in his entire life. Uh-oh. "Ooh, yeah... Just like that, Petey... God, yes! Yes!"

"Gary!" Petey shrieked, rushing to open the door as quickly as he could. He waved weakly at Jimmy as he let him inside. "We weren't. I m-mean, obviously. We don't... I don't... God. Hi, Jimmy." He scowled at Gary, who was giggling helplessly. "You're so gross. Jerk."

"Jim-boy!" Gary's amused grin flickered briefly into a look of utmost disgust. "You look putrid."

Jimmy remained stoic as ever. "Thanks. Are you guys coming, or what?"

"Yeah." Petey gave his bow-tie a final self-conscious tug before following his friend out of the room. Gary's voice floated after him.

"Wait, Femme-boy! You forgot to put on your make-up!"

Tad's face was a mask of righteous fury as he clambered into the limousine to join his fellow preps. "Derby! Have you heard what those classless paupers out there are saying?!"

"No," Derby sighed, pouring himself a glass of contraband champagne from the car's built-in miniature fridge. Tad could get so very hysterical, sometimes. It really was most tiresome. "But I expect you're going to tell me."

"They're saying that it's bad form for us to be travelling to the wedding in a limousine bigger than the bride and groom's. Can you believe it? Those cretins, thinking that they know more than us about matters of etiquette?!" Tad gazed around the interior of the car meaningfully. "The word 'tacky' was used. Tacky."

A collective gasp echoed throughout the limousine and Pinky's hands flew to her mouth in horror. "What?! Who said that?!"

"Christy Martin."

Gord let out an incredulous snort. "Oh, please. Have you seen that awful dress she's wearing? As if she could ever, ever call any of us tacky while she looks like that." His upper lip curled in disgust. "Really. Pink satin, with her red hair? Such a faux pas. Plus, everyone knows that you're only supposed to show cleavage or leg; never both. Especially if neither asset is exactly spectacular..."

"They're merely jealous," Derby sighed, unwilling to allow the conversation to devolve into another of Gord's fashion-related rants. By God, he'd told him once - once! - that he dressed well, and ever since then Gord had made it his life's work to be the number one fashion authority in Bullworth. Derby had created a monster.

"Right," Bif agreed with a confident nod of the head. "So jealous. They have to travel by bus, after all."

There was a short silence while the preps all attempted to imagine what it would be like to go to the wedding in one of the rickety old schoolbuses parked outside the academy. Difficult, seeing as none of them had ever used public transportation in their lives. "I bet it'll be ghastly," Chad mused. "I almost feel sorry for them."

"Indeed," agreed Gord. "Imagine - confined to an enclosed space with those greaseballs. Sharing their air."

"Can we stop this, please?" It would be uncouth of Derby to mention that he knew for a fact that Gord had shared more than air with that greaser slut Lola, of course. Not to mention that it was too nauseating a thought to voice. Ugh. He rolled down the car window and tossed the champagne from his glass out into the parking lot - somehow, he didn't want it any more. "You're making me feel quite ill."

"Hey!" An outraged cry from outside the limo seemed to indicate that Derby's aim with the champagne had been less than perfect. "Hey, asshole! Look what you did!"

Derby peered out of the window. Oh, damn. A rather furious-looking Damon West was now sporting a fresh wet stain on the crotch of his pants. Oops. "Have we had a little accident, West? Tsk, tsk."

That was, perhaps, not Derby's best idea ever.

"I'm going to rip your fucking head off, pansy! Don't move!"

With an air of supreme composure and calm, Derby closed the car window. The limo rocked dramatically as Damon pounded on the door from outside. "Oh, driver? I think it's about time we were off. Be quick about it, there's a good chap."

Gary squirmed around on the bus seat. God, why were these things so fucking uncomfortable? Clearly, whoever designed the schoolbus had failed to take into consideration the fact that people would actually be sitting on the seats. They were hard. They were falling apart. They were most certainly not designed for the comfort of the human butt.

"Quit squirming," Petey hissed. "You're going to push me off the seat!"

"Are you saying I have a big ass, Pete?"

"No, I'm saying don't squirm. Please."

"Because my butt isn't big, Petey. It's really not."

"I didn't say it was." Petey's voice had taken on a pleading note, which (of course) only made Gary more happy to torment him. Not that he needed an excuse or anything.

"I'd say I have a small-to-middling derrière, myself. What do you think?"

"What?!"

Gary stood up, his back to Petey, and struck a pose. This was glorious. Who knew bus rides could be so much fun? "Well?"

"Oh my God." Petey closed his eyes, utterly consumed by embarrassment. "Sit down. Please, Gary. Please."

For once, Gary accepted Petey's request. Unfortunately for Pete, he chose to sit down directly on his lap. It was, all things considered, much more comfortable than the bus seat. The fact that it made Petey blush like a girl was merely a nice bonus. "Oops!"

"Get off," Petey squeaked as he attempted to push Gary off with his puny little girl-arms. Gary only wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's neck and clung on, cackling. "Stop it!"

A sharp smack to the back of Gary's head took his attention off Petey for a moment. Zoe was scowling at him from her seat just behind theirs. "Lay off him, psycho."

Rolling his eyes, Gary slid back over onto his side of the seat. "Yes, sir."

"You alright, Pete?" Zoe leaned forward. "I'll switch seats with you if you want."

"No, that's okay," Petey mumbled. "Thanks."

Gary fluttered his eyelashes and gave Zoe his very best and most patronising fuck off-smile. "There. Don't bother interfering next time - Petey's a big girl, he can look after himself. Herself. Whatever." He didn't like Zoe. At all. He hadn't liked her before she'd been expelled (there was something jarring and hypocritical about the way she declared everyone else to be 'posers' while she stomped around in those fucking ridiculous boots just to show everyone how oh-so-alternative she was), and he certainly didn't like her now. It wasn't fair that he had only gotten back into Bullworth after a billion agonizing therapy sessions, a generous donation to the school from his parents and an hours' worth of sucking up to Crabblesnitch, while all she'd had to do to get back in was kiss Jimmy Hopkins.

On second thought, Gary decided that he'd got the better deal there after all. Never mind.

"Don't be a jerk," said Petey. "Just calm down until the bus ride's over. Please?"

Easier said than done. "So you expect me to just sit here and be bored?"

Petey shrugged helplessly. "We could... uh..."

"Hijack the bus?" Gary suggested. "I bet you ten dollars I could get us to Mexico."

His head in his hands, Petey let out a tired little sigh. "I was thinking more along the lines of playing 'I spy' or something."

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses to celebrate the joining of these two souls in holy matrimony..."

Jimmy quickly found his attention wandering as the priest began to speak. He got more than his fair share of old men droning on about things at school, so zoning out at times like this was pretty much second nature. He shifted around on the spot slightly - damn, he hated the tuxedo he'd been forced to put on. Hated it. It was bad enough that he had to wear the stupid thing at all, but standing up in front of the entire school wearing it? How'd he managed to get himself into this one?

Oh, yeah. His absolute inability to say no to Ms. Philips when she'd got him trapped in her hypno-glare. That was it. Jimmy was pretty sure that she had some kind of mind-controlling powers or something.

Still, it was at least reassuring to know that most people would be looking at the happy couple, not at him. The priest guy was still talking about love and commitment and all that junk, while the two teachers were gazing at each other in gooey-eyed silence. Mr. Galloway looked nervous - not oh God it's too late to run-nervous, just a kind of happy jitteriness. Ms. Philips, on the other hand, simply looked kind of hot. Jimmy knew it was totally weird to be thinking that about someone's soon-to-be-wife, but when the bride was wearing a dress that showed that much cleavage, it was kind of hard not to.

A quick glance at the rows of people sitting in the church pews suggested that many of his male schoolmates were thinking on similar lines. Ted Thompson was literally drooling, much to Mandy's disgust. Jimmy rolled his eyes before turning back towards the ceremony. They were exchanging vows, now - apparently they'd written their own.

"...You are my muse. The pigment in my paints, the bristles in my brushes. With you, my Gally-bear, life doesn't imitate art: life is art..."

Was she serious? Jimmy held back the urge to gag. Teachers were so weird.

Then again, he thought as he glanced back at his classmates, they were pretty weird as well. Gary, for example, was currently absorbed in his favourite activity: picking on Pete. The psycho kept putting his arm around him while Petey squirmed and tried to push him away without causing a fuss. Unsuccessfully, of course. Poor Pete... But hey, what did he expect to happen if he sat next to Gary? He had ADD, it wasn't like he was going to sit there quietly throughout the ceremony. Sheesh...

A small movement from nearer the front of the church swiftly distracted Jimmy from Gary and Petey's antics. Beatrice was waving at him, beaming widely and looking at him in a way that was terrifyingly reminiscent of the way Ms. Philips was looking at her husband-to-be. Eurgh. Offering her a very tiny, tight smile, Jimmy hurriedly turned his back on the students once more. It took all of his resolve to suppress the shudder that welled up within him. Why did girls have to be so weird about weddings?! It was like the sight of poofy white dresses and badly-fitting tuxedos turned them all into complete lunatics with puddles of pink mush where their brains used to be. At least Zoe wasn't like that...

...he hoped.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the priest announced, cutting into Jimmy's increasingly horrified thoughts. "You may kiss the bride."

It's over, Jimmy thought, relief flooding through him. Finally. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of being able to take off his stupid suit jacket and just relax. Who knew a day out of classes could suck so much? His first instinct was to run from the church as fast as he could, but he restrained himself and filed out slowly along with everyone else. After all, it was one thing to be glad that it was all over - it was quite another to be a complete dick about it.

Speaking of complete dicks...

"That was so boring. I've had conversations with you, James, that were more stimulating than that."

"Shut the fuck up, Gary," breezed Zoe, shoving her way past him to greet Jimmy. "Hey. I saw you grinning away to yourself at the end there. Cute. You thinking about your own wedding day, Jimmy?"

Crap. That meant that Zoe also had a case of severe wedding-itis, right? Jimmy began mentally plotting his escape route. Maybe if he ran to the right past Mr. Galloway's' mom, he could hop over the wall and...

"...So you'll be proposing to Gord any day now, right? Dibs on being your bridesmaid."

The relief was incredible. "Great," he grinned. "C'mon then, I need to make sure I'm the one who catches Ms. Philips' bouquet."

This? This was why Zoe was awesome.

As crazy as Mr. Galloway and Ms. Philips - the Galloways, now - undoubtedly were, they weren't quite insane enough to drag the Bullworth kids to their reception as well as the ceremony itself. They'd obviously seen enough food fights in the cafeteria to know that couldn't possibly be a good idea, Petey decided. It was amazing how much destruction a few students could cause whilst armed with nothing more than a couple of apples and a vat of Edna's custard.

Not that Petey thought sending everyone back to school for a party there was a very good idea, either. All the teachers had been invited to the wedding reception and many of the prefects were busy looking after the younger kids, so the students' party would be largely unsupervised.

'Largely unsupervised' being a synonym for 'complete anarchy', naturally.

Desperately trying to ignore the feeling of utter dread building up inside him, Petey pushed open the doors to the school cafeteria. Actually, things didn't look so bad. Everyone seemed to be relatively calm, nobody was fighting yet, there weren't any random items of food being flung through the air... Still. There was time for all that.

"Nice party," Gary said sarcastically. "Real lively."

Trust Gary to be unimpressed. Petey just shrugged and walked over to the punch table, where Jimmy and Zoe were looking bored out of their minds. "Um. Hi, guys. Having fun?"

Both of them gave him looks that said quite clearly that they were not having fun. "Not yet," Jimmy replied.

"Things'll liven up soon, though," grinned Zoe. "Try the punch, Pete." She handed Petey a cup, and he took a tentative sip.

The sip of punch quickly found itself sprayed across the floor as Petey spat it out in shock. "Wh-what the hell?!"

"Watch it, moron!" Gary shot him a malevolent glare as he narrowly dodged the stream of liquid. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Petey quickly put the cup down. "I think... Eww. Alcohol."

"Oh, Petey. Dear, naive little Petey." Gary poured himself a cup, grinning. "This is Bullworth Academy. You expected people not to spike the punch?"

"Spiked? Who spiked it?"

Jimmy raised a hand. "Me."

"Wait, you too?" Zoe turned to him in shock. "I never noticed. Impressive."

"And me," Gary said, accompanying his confession with one of his trademark snickers. "With so much alcohol in there, the punch must be practically a fire hazard. Excellent."

"But..." Petey began, trailing off as he stared in horror at the punchbowl. Everyone turned to follow his gaze, only to see Wade Martin pouring his own illicit liquor into the mixture before walking away, whistling. After a few seconds, Petey regained his voice. "I'm head boy! I should do something!"

"Relax, friend. It's a party." Gary's grin was disturbingly snakelike as he pressed a cup back into Petey's hands. "So the punch got spiked by fifty people or so. What's the worst that could happen?"

It was a question that might have made Petey feel a little better, if only it wasn't being asked by Gary Smith. "Oh, man..."

"It's at times like this when I think that poor people really aren't so bad," said Parker. "Sure, they can be unbelievably crass at times, but they certainly know how to party."

Derby had to agree. They also knew how to make excellent punch, if this particular party's offering was anything to go by. He took an appreciative sip of his drink. Sure, it made the room sway in a most alarming manner, but he couldn't hold that against it, could he?

"Derby." Bif nudged him with his elbow. "I think we have a... a situation."

"You're drunk," Derby declared, nudging him right back "Look at you. All... wavy around the edges and all that."

"No, you're drunk," objected Bif. "I'm just..." He waved his hand, attempting to find the right word. "Tipsy."

"Well, hurry up and bloody get drunk. I don't want to be drunk alone, it looks pathetic." Derby handed Bif a glass. "Punch for you, Bif. Because you're a boxer. Which means you, you know... Punch things."

The two of them spent the next couple of minutes in giggles at Derby's hysterical joke before Bif suddenly raised a hand. "Wait, wait! I was telling you about the situation. We have one."

"Then deal with it. Or get someone else to deal with it," Derby sniffed. "We're rich. It's our God-given right to delegate tasks we don't want."

"Nooo," Bif slurred. "No, it's West. Apparently he's determined to, ah, get revenge for earlier. For when you ruined his pants. Yeah."

Bother. "Wonderful. Can't you, you know..." Derby mimed punching the air unsteadily. "Get rid of him?"

Bif's eyes widened. "In this? This is an Aquaberry suit!"

"So is mine!" Derby drained his glass. "We have such good taste. Hmm... Shall we make a swift exit, then? No sense in getting our clothes all bloodied up. Gord would have a fit."

"Excellent idea," said Bif. Come on, we'll leave through the back." He took a few wobbly steps forward before stopping. "Which way is the back?"

Derby stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'll tell you when the room stops spinning."

"You! Rich kid! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Oh dear," Derby sighed. "Too late."

Damon stampeded towards them, followed closely by his fellow jock Juri. Derby noticed the faint stain visible on the linebacker's pants and began giggling again. Unfortunately, Damon didn't seem to find it very amusing. "Say your prayers, Harrington. You ain't gonna be able to walk when I'm done with you!"

"Now, now." He could fix this. Definitely. Derby raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "We can all settle this like shiv... civ... like civilised gentlemen."

"That's what we are doin'," Damon slurred, throwing his tuxedo jacket to one side. Apparently, he'd been partaking of the punch as well. "Juri's my backup. Who's yours?"

"Er, Bif?"

"My pleasure," Bif answered, rolling up his shirtsleeves purposefully. "I've got your back."

Damon snorted. "Him? Hey, it's your funeral."

"I'll have you know that Bif is the best boxer in Bullworth! Even when he's a teensy bit bladdered. Tipsy. Whatever." Derby patted his friend on the back. "He's bloody marvellous, you know. And very rich. And tall. I do love you, Bif."

"Boxing? You think your fancy girl-fighting will help you?" Juri shook his head. "You have much learning to do, little rich boy!"

"Eh? Alright, perhaps we won't be following the Queensberry rules or anything. But that doesn't make his boxing skill useless," Derby spluttered. "He's really very good in a fight, you know."

"Yeah. Better than any wussy... wrestling... guy," Bif added. "With your leotards and grapples and... you know, wrestlingy things. I'll fight you any day!"

"Fight?" Damon shook his head. "Oh, no. Fighting's too easy. I need to humiliate you, Harrington. Make you feel the shame!" He flexed his muscles impressively. "This is a dance-off, bitch."

Derby raised one eyebrow. "A dance-off."

"Right."

"A dance-off."

"Scared, moneybags?"

"Not a chance." Derby smiled grimly as he took off his suit jacket. "Prepare to get served, pauper."

'What's the worst that could happen', he'd said. Hah. Petey had once again learned that he should never, ever listen to Gary Smith under any circumstances.

He hoped he'd already seen 'the worst that could happen', anyway. Petey shuddered in disgust. If there was anything in this world that could possibly be more nauseating than Trent Northwick and Hal Esposito's naked limbo contest, he didn't want to know. As if on cue, a pair of oversized pants were thrown above the crowd of students and out of sight. A pair of pants that Petey recognised as belonging to Algie Papadopoulos.

Okay, it was definitely time for him to call it a night.

Petey wove his way through the throng of students as quickly as he could. He just needed to find Jimmy to tell him he was leaving - it'd be pretty impolite to just go without saying anything, after all. The trouble was, he hadn't seen Jimmy for a while. Surely someone around here had to know where he was...

"Oh, you! Um... Head boy!"

Petey found his path blocked by a very drunk Tad Spencer. Just what he needed right now. "Oh, um, hello. I'm kind of busy looking for Ji-"

"No, this is important. I think some of our bretheren are a bit in... inebriated," Tad said, stumbling over the words with considerable difficulty. "Isn't it dreadful?"

"Er, yes. Have you seen Jimmy around?"

"Ah, Jimmy!" Tad wagged his finger at Petey in an exaggerated, clumsy gesture. "Jimmy Hopkins. Yes. We could have been friends if things were different, you know. Did you know that?"

"No. Do you know where he-"

"It's true! But, you see... How do I put this? The thing is, I am very rich. Very very rich. Astronomically so."

"Oh, um, right. I-"

"And Jimmy is just poor trash. Though I mean that in the best possible way."

"Well, um, oh. Anyway-"

"It's such a shame! If only he'd been born into my social circle. And had manners. And class." Tad stared at his own still-wagging finger for a moment before refocusing his gaze on Petey. "Say, where is Jimmy?"

Petey didn't do violence, but he was struck with a sudden powerful urge to punch Tad in the face. "I don't know. I'm trying to look for him."

"Oh. If you find him, tell him I said hello."

Petey nodded wearily before pushing his way through the crowd once more. God, this was a complete nightmare! Before today, he'd thought there was nothing worse than Bullworth kids left to their own devices. Now, he knew better. Drunken Bullworth kids were the absolute worst.

"Pipsqueak! I've been looking for you!"

A little yelp of shock escaped Petey as Gary swooped upon him, his customary smirk even wider and more manic than usual. Uh-oh. "Oh, um, hi, Gary. I was just going back to the dorms, actually. I'm, you know, kinda tired." He smiled nervously. "Would you let Jimmy know, if you see him?"

"You're leaving?" Gary's brow furrowed and he took a gulp from the cup in his hand. "Aren't you having a good time, little Petey? D'awww. That won't do."

Pete's nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol on the taller boy's breath. "I'm just a bit tired, so -"

"Oh, no you don't!" Gary threw his arm around Petey's shoulder, managing to spill the rest of the punch down Pete's shirt as he did so. "No, you're staying with me. We're going to have some fun."

"F-fun?"

"An unfamiliar concept, I know. Don't worry, you'll like it!"

Petey attempted to struggle out of Gary's grip. "No I won't."

"You will! Don't be so boring, Pete. It's a party. Relax." Gary peered inside his paper cup, seemingly surprised that it was empty. "Huh. C'mon, let's go get a drink. That'll loosen you up a bit."

"Hey, man. Have you seen Lola?"

"Uhh..." Jimmy briefly considered telling Johnny the truth: that yes, he had seen Lola. Under one of the cafeteria tables. With a pantsless jock who he thought was Casey, but he wasn't going to look closely enough to find out for sure. Yuck. "Uh, no. Maybe she went to the bathroom."

"I already looked there. Twice." Johnny looked kind of twitchy. "Maybe I'll go check again."

"Johnny!" Peanut grasped his friend's sleeve, swaying slightly. "Forget Lola. You don't need to find her. I love you, man."

"Right, right." Johnny nodded absently. "Me too."

"No, Johnny, I really love you..."

Okay, that was Jimmy's cue to leave the greasers to it. Geez, what the hell was in that punch?! It was getting harder and harder to find someone to hang out with who wasn't blind stinking drunk. It had been funny for a while, but now it was getting really old.

Wait a sec. Jimmy stopped in his tracks. Was that Derby Harrington, breakdancing?

...Oh, how he wished he'd brought his camera.

Spotting Zoe off at the side of the room, Jimmy wandered over to her. She didn't seem like she'd been drinking too much, so she might be his best shot at actually getting some sense out of someone. She was chatting animatedly with Russell, of all people. Russell. "Hey, guys. What you talking about?"

"Jimmy!" Russell beamed. "Zoe save Russell."

"I rescued him from the nerds," Zoe explained. They were trying to teach him about pronouns and conjugating verbs and... y'know. All that grammar crap."

"Yeah. But Russell speak just fine. Stupid nerds."

"Damn right," Jimmy grinned.

"Beatrice was looking for you, by the way." Zoe smiled innocently. "I get the feeling she doesn't like me very much. She sure likes you, though."

"Uh, okay?"

"Yep. It's amazing how vocal she gets about it when she's drunk, too."

Jimmy grimaced. "Oh, man. No. What was she saying?"

"Oh, things. Like that you were her sweet marshmallow of love encased within a hard candy exterior."

"What?!"

"Yeah." Zoe began laughing uncontrollably. "And that only she could melt the candy with her fiery passion to reveal the gooey softness underneath..."

Jimmy was prevented from commenting any further as an all-too-familiar figure chose that moment to grab hold of him and drag him towards the other side of the room. "Hey, this way! C'mon, hurry up!"

"Gary, what the hell are you doing? I was talking to Zoe! Get off me!"

"Jimmy-boy." Gary turned Jimmy around to face him, grasping both his arms firmly. "You're bald."

"What the fu-"

"Or close enough. I guess you're kind of... fuzzy." Gary squinted slightly and rubbed the top of Jimmy's head. "Yeah. Fuzzy. But you're the closest thing to bald that I've got."

"Get off, freak!" Jimmy growled, pushing the other boy away as hard as he could. If this was an attempt to weird him out, it was definitely working. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

"God, James. Why do you always have to be so obtuse?!" Gary flung his arms in the air dramatically. "We need a priest... vicar... guy... thing. Like in the church today. He was bald, you're kind of bald, therefore you get the job. Now come on. We're wasting time."

Gary's logic was hard enough for Jimmy to follow even at the best of times. When Gary was drunk? Impossible. "Slow down. What d'you need a priest for?"

"Uggghhhh." Gary let out a melodramatic groan of frustration. "Try and keep up, Jimmy-boy. Me and Petey are getting married. Obviously. I need you to pronounce us, um..." He thought for a moment. "...Pronounce us man and femme-boy."

"Right. I'll... get right on that."

Well - if you couldn't beat them, join them. Jimmy was really, really going to need some of that damn punch.

When Jimmy awoke the next morning, something felt terribly wrong. It took him a few seconds of lying there motionless before he figured out what. Ohh...

It seemed that, for some reason, he was sharing his bed with an impressively large collection of garden gnomes. Fucking punch.

He emitted a tiny groan of pain as he forced himself out of bed, pushing aside a pile of gnomes as he did so and wincing as they clattered to the floor. Man. His head felt like it was filled with cotton-candy - throbbing, painful cotton-candy that was attempting to make a violent escape through his skull. While armed with machine guns. That kind of cotton-candy. At least everyone else at Bullworth was likely to be feeling as bad as he was...

A quick trip to the common area of the dorms confirmed his suspicions. It was totally deserted apart from a very ill-looking Gary and Petey, each of them sitting at opposite ends of the couch. Jimmy sat down between them. "You guys look like I feel."

"James." Gary weakly waved his hand towards a small box of pills on the arm of the couch. "Nausea-B-Gone? They're very good."

"My stomach's fine. It's just my head..." Jimmy leaned back, groaning. What he wouldn't do for an aspirin. "Why are there gnomes in my bed?"

"Witnesses." Petey's voice was barely more than a whisper. "For the wedding."

It took a few seconds for Jimmy to remember. Oh, yeah. Vague images flashed through his head - Petey surrounded by an entourage of gnomes and wrapped in a white tablecloth to simulate a wedding dress, Gary managing to somehow kiss Petey's eye when told to 'kiss the bride'... "Right. You two love-birds going anywhere nice for your honeymoon?"

"If it didn't hurt to move, I'd punch you in the face," Gary muttered. "So I'm going to imagine doing it, instead. Hold still."

Jimmy only grinned. "But you guys make such a cute couple."

"Seriously, James, I'm beating you senseless in my head right now. It's very satisfying."

"Nice. So, when's your first baby due?" The box of pills hit Jimmy smack in the face. "Hey!"

"You deserved it." Gary grumbled. "At least you aren't a real priest, Jim. I'd hate to put little Petey through the trauma of a divorce on the same day as his very first hangover. The horror of it all might kill him."

"Leave me alone, Gary."

"Annulment," Jimmy corrected him automatically. "When a marriage doesn't get consummated, you don't get a divorce. You can just get it annulled. That's what happened with my mom's third husband."

There was a short, horribly damning silence.

"Guys." Jimmy looked from Gary to Petey and back again. "Guys, this isn't funny. You didn't... I mean, that's... He's kidding, right? Petey?!"

Gary giggled maliciously as Jimmy made a dash for the bathroom. "Bet he wishes he'd taken one of those sickness pills now."