Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold, and the lyrics to the song "I'm Glad. Because Finally I'm Returning Back Home" written by Arkady Ostrovsky. This fic contains racist jokes and slurs. This doesn't mean I'm a racist, or enjoy hearing racist jokes. This is to satirize fanfics that tend to be racist at times.

A/N: Not terrible enough, eh? I'm turning off the spellcheckre of my wrod processor. XD

Team Arnold

Helga's grand entrance to Hillwood High did not go unnoticed to Arnold Shortman, the hottest and most guy in the school. He's more awesome and cooler than Ozzy Osbourne, Optimus Prime, and Jesus Christ combined! He's like the eeeditor in chief of the school paper, the president of the homecoming comittee, team captain of the basketball, baseball, football, swimming, pig equestrian, mud wrestling, Monopoly, scrabble, chinese checkers, and biscuit game team of the school. What is biscuit game, you may ask? Google it up, but don't blame me for whatever abomination you will see. It can never be unseen, trust me.

Yes, he's uber handsome, cool, and athletic, even though he's obviously some dopey average guy back in grade school. He's also uber kind, helpful, sweet, and friendly. He's so perfect that the Pope in Vatican will soon declare him as a saint. Yes, Saint Arnold of Hillwood, even it's obvious that he isn't Catholic. XD Why Arnold is damn perfect? Because fuck you, that's why. XD

So Saint Arnoldo went to the hallway, where Helga was making her way to the locker as well. Suddenly, his phone rang. He took it out, and his ringtone began to play loudly. He listened to the inspirational Russian song that captured the hearts of the millions.

(A/N: At this point, I would suggest you open a new tab, go to Youtube, and play the "Trololo" song while reading the next part. Enjoy!)

"Ahhhhhhhhh Ya ya yaaaah Ya ya yaaah Yaaah ya yah!

Ohohohohoooo Oh ya yaaah Ya ya yaaah Yaaah ya yah!

Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeh Ye-ye-yeh Ye-ye-yeh Ohohohohoh!

Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeh Ye-ye-yeh Ye-ye-yeh Ohohohohooooooooooo

Aaaaoooooh aaaooo Hooo haha

Nah nah nah nah Nuh nuh nuh Nuh nuh nuh Nuh nuh nuh Nuh nuh nah!

Nah nah nah nah nun Nun-ah nun Nun-ah nuh Nah nah nah nah nah!

Nah nah nah nah Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Dah dah daaaaaaaaaah... Da-da-dah... Daaah.. Da-dah...

Lololololoooooooooooooo!

Lah la-laaah La la laaah lol haha

Ohohohoho ho-ho-ho ho-ho-ho oh-ho-ho-ho-ho

Ohohohoho ho-ho-ho ho-ho-ho Lololololooo...

AAIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EE eeeee-eeeee-EEEEEEEEE!

Luh-luh-lah... Lah Lah-lah

Ohohohohooooooooo!

BOPadudududu-dah-da-du-daaaah! Da-da-daaaah Daaah Da-daaah...

Lololololo lololo lololol Lalalalah!

Trololololo lalalaaa

Oh-hahaha-ho Haha-hehe-ho Hohoho-he-ho Hahahaha-ho

Lolololololo Lolololololo Lolololololo Lololo-LOL!

Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh! La-la-laaaah! La la laaaah! Laaaah La-lah...

Ohohohohoooooooooo! La, la-laaah! La-la-laaah lol haha...

Lololololo Lololo Lololo

Ohohohoho!

Lololololol Lololo Lololo

Ohohohohoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

Arnold wiped a tear than escaped from his eye, deeply touched by the meaningful and inspirational lyrics of the Russian song that happened to be his ringtone. He then answered his phone.

"My nigga what it do? Ya hommie can i borrow your ca?"

"Gerald? Is that you?" Arnold asked, a scowl forming on his forehead.

"Ya? Dafuq you actin' brand new fo?"

"Gerald, why are you talking like a gangbanger from the ghettoes?"

Gerald suddenly snapped out from his "ghetto mode", and replied in straight accent, "Because I'm the only black character in this fic, and the author of this godawful fanfic has no imagination, so I need to act as stereotypically and offensively 'black' as possible!"

Arnold nodded, "Hmmm, sounds legit!"

"Aight. So um let me borrow your car and hold a couple of dallas. Ya feel me? 'Cuse you know I need to rep my streets, you know, live for da hood, you know, make dat paper."

Arnold frowned, "So you're going to make your paper by 'borrowing' money from me."

"Shit my nigga, dufuq you catin stingy for. Forreal, I thought we was niggas?! I knowns you since we was babies and shit. Growned up in da hood in shit. Coming out heer acting brand new an shit! Don't make me rob your white ass! You ain't think I know where you keep da spare key to yor crib?" Gerald hollered at the other end of the line.

"Yeah, that's what you and your people are good at," Arnold sneered.

Then there was full ten seconds of silence on the other end of the line before Gerald finally spoke up, in his "normal voice".

"That's fucking racist, dude. Simply racist."

"Well, I thought so," Arnold replied with a chuckle.

And then Gerald returned to his "ghetto mode".

"Ya my nigga, watch my bitch Phoebe for me. I seened a nigga tryin' to holla at her the other day! Mutherfucker turned out to be a fuck boi when I whooped da ass! Shit, nigga was all like, 'I ain't know it was your gurl! I ain't know don't kill me!' Haha! Dem cops still ain't find his ass. Anyway, watch dat hoe. She a top grade asian bitch, and I ain't trying to have no other niggas up on my bitch but me!"

"Alrighty, I'll watch Phoebe for you. I'll see you later, bro." He then ended the call, and put back his phone back to his pocket.

On the other side of the hallway, Helga was with her ever-loyal bestfriend and minion, Phoebe. Heads turned and necks again snapped from their places as Helga bewitched the the male students as she passed the hallway like some sort of royalty or queen, much to the chagrin of Lila and Rhonda, who were both seething together with their cheerleader minions.

"Look at Helga. Look how she walks. She thinks she's some sort of queen. Well excuuuuuse me, but if there's one queen here, it is me, Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd," she snorted with her nose held up high.

"I'm ever so certain that he will try to steal my Arnold from me. I will make sure that Arnold will be mine, mine alone! I'm oh so certain that this is the part of the story where we need to hatch an evil plan to bring Helga Pataki down," Lila said to Rhonda.

"Yes, Lila dear," she replied. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What?"

"I'm gonna throw a party! I'm gonna invite all of the juniors at my house, and there's gonna be booze, drugs, and other illegal stuff that we're not allowed to have because we're just in high school! And then we're gonna make that Pataki bitch drunk, and we'll let the whole high school basketball team gangbang her, and we'll take a video of that, and we'll post it in Facebook, and that bitch Pataki will go down faster than a lead balloon! Mwahahaha!" Rhonda cackled maniacally, revelling at the genius of her evil plot.

Lila's eyes shimmered with delight, "Wow, Rhonda! That plan is ever so genius, and ever so original! I'm ever so sure that that plan had never been featured in any fanfiction before!"

"Yes, Lila! Now bow down to my genius!" Rhonda commanded.

"Yes, my Queen," Lila and her fellow cheerleaders replied before bowing down before Queen Rhonda.

Meanwhile, Helga and Phoebe continued their way along the hallway.

"Pheebs, why do I have a feeling that I will bump at someone today?" Helga asked.

"That's because according to my calculations, your chances of collision with another male member of ou species would exponentially rise as the writer of this fanfiction would constantly refer to the tired and overused cliche of you bumping with a certain Caucasian male who happened to have a blonde hair whom I often offer refer to in a pseudonym you named after a certain dairy product that is best eaten when subjected to its freezing point of around zero degrees Celsius, or thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit," Phoebe replied without missing a beat.

Helga just gave her a confused look, "What?"

"Yup. Brace yourself, winter is coming! In 3..."

"2."

"1."

BUMP!

Right there and then, Helga came crashing face first to Arnold, and both fell flat to the ground.

"Helga?!" Arnold exclaimed, while struggling to get up.

"Arnold..." Helga groaned, still lying on on the ground, curled up in pain.

"Yup, right on schedule," Phoebe chimed, looking at her watch.

"Phoebe, I think I punctured my lung during the impact," Helga groaned in pain. "I know you're the smartest girl in the class, but you don't have a mind of your own and would stupidly follow whatever I told you to do, for you have been my loyal slave since...ever. I need your lung right now, or else I'll die."

"Donating!" Phoebe gleefully said, taking out a scalpel from her pocket. She then took off her shirt, and sliced herself open, taking out her right lung to donate to Helga. Right there at the hallway, she performed a lung transplant on Helga, and sewed herself shut using whatever material she MacGuyver-ed around. All of the students who were watching cheered as Phoebe completed the lung transplant.

After the transplant was done, Arnold stood up and looked at the audience.

"Kids, that's what will happen if you run around the hallway without looking on your way. Always remember to keep an open eye if you will run in the hallway to avoid head-on hallway collisions. For knowing is winning half of the battle! GOOOOOOOOOOO JOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEE!"

A/N: The coffee I had been drinking must have been spiked with some sort of hallucinogen when I wrote this. Anyway, read and review! ^^,