Helga looks over at Arnold with a concerned frown on her face.
"You still mad at me football head?"
Arnold simply sighed and rolled his eyes at her.
"Hmmm I dunno...you got us lost in the middle of nowhere in the hot desert, and we don't know how to get home or where any of our friends are. So...what do you think?"
Helga glared at him. "So you're saying this is my fault."
Arnold shrugged, "I don't see anyone else who caused this."
Helga stopped in front of Arnold to block his way.
"Hold on. Aren't you forgetting about your part in this fiasco too?"
Arnold glared again. "Hey, I didn't cause this."
Helga crossed her arms. "Of course. The Great Arnold never does anything wrong."
Arnold dropped his backpack in the sand and crossed his arms as well. "Your point?"
Helga frowned. "Maybe Arnold doesn't realize that he did something wrong this time."
Arnold smirked. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
Helga shrugged. "Oh I don't know...like not knowing how to be a very good friend to me at the moment."
She points at him. "And you know what else Arnold? Maybe that's the thing that I'm trying to get right this time, because I always seem to get things wrong."
Arnold now blocks her from the front.
"What are you trying to say? That I'm a bad friend?"
Helga shook her head and sighed.
"No. I was trying to suggest that you should never be like me in any situation. Don't be the Helga."
Arnold smirked. "And suddenly you're the Arnold?"
Helga sighed. "I wish I was. That way, I don't ever have to talk bad about myself, or my life."
She looks at him with depressed eyes and starts to walk again away from Arnold in the desert with her head hanging low.
Behind her, Arnold could not help but feel bad for her.
"Gosh, I guess she was right about me being her after all..."