SUP, Ladies and Gents. It's HazardouZ-Ink with another submission to D-Set: Trouble Never Comes Alone. It's time for a blast from the past, so strap in tight!
School Dayz
Several Months Earlier,
The largest city in Calisota was experiencing the daybreak of a brand new morning. Mere minutes before the seventh hour, a beautiful sunrise poured over the metropolis of Duckburg. The sun's radiant beams of light pierced through the morning mist, reflected off every corporate high rise in the metropolis, lit up the darkest of alleys in the city's slums, and eventually made their way into the streets of humble suburbia. Birds proceeded to chirp melodies that echoed from every treetop. The citizens of Duckburg hustle and bustle through the city, rushing to punch the clock with punctuality. Automobiles maneuvered inch by inch in the ever-growing morning traffic jam. Nevertheless, it was time for businesses and schools to open to begin yet another industrious day.
***Duck Residence***
"GOOOOOOOOD MORNING, DUCKBURG! IT'S THE TOP OF THE HOUR: 7 AM ON WDSY 101.7 FM! TIME TO WAKE UP! SO, SHAKE THE CRUST OUTTA THOSE EYES, CHUG THAT CUP O' JOE, N' LET'S GET THIS PARTY STA-"
*CLICK*
Off goes the alarm. The lively vocals of the radio personality have served as a wake-up call for many listeners of the local Duckburg radio station. However, for a group of teenagers in the small suburban home of the Duck residence, it was nothing but an annoyance. This day was particularly more aggravating than the others, considering it was the first day of their last year in Duckburg Jr. High. If this school year was anything like the previous years, Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck were subject to endure yet another term of excruciating assignments, uneventful classes, distasteful instructors, and peers with ill intentions. With those ideas in mind, Huey was less than ecstatic to begin the first day. So, he decided to lie back down and resume his slumber. Louie, the youngest and most energetic of the brothers, had already awakened an hour before the alarm clock rang and chose to start his day. Before his brothers rose from their slumber, Louie quietly rolled out of his make-shift bed, crept out of the attic and made his way to the bathroom. He made it a mission to always be first to shower, as there was a "special routine" he would partake in each morning. What was it? Not even his family knew the answer.
Dewey Duck groggily woke from his sleep 10 minutes after the alarm went off. Despite sharing the same lack of excitement as his still snoozing brother, Dewey decided to swallow his pride and force himself out of bed. He scratched his head and made his way to the bathroom with clothes in hand to freshen up. As he made his way down the hallway, a loud but muffled song jammed behind the bathroom door. Although the song was playing at glass-shattering volume, it was a highly tolerable pop hit. As the song's powerful chords accompanied the energetic beat, the singer used his powerful vocals to stake his claim and make a bold statement.
"STAND OUT! Above the crowd
Even if I gotta shout out loud
Till mine is the only face you see
I'm gonna Staaaaaaand Out…
Till you notice me"
As enjoyable as the tune was, Dewey noticed a subtle difference in the audio quality (aside from the obvious fact that the song was playing behind an enclosed room). He noticed that the incredible vocals seemed to be duplicated in the exact same pitches, but the tone of one of the vocals had a stark difference. It was all most as if there was another…Nah! Dewey shook the thought out of his mind and focused on the task at hand: taking a shower. He banged on the wooden door and yelled, "Lou!" The volume of the music quickly dropped to near silence. "Yeah," Louie responded from the other side. "Dude, what the hell is taking you so long to finish up? You drownin' in there? Doin' your make-up or somethin'?" Dewey queried. Louie growled in frustration and turned off the radio. "HEY! AM I SUPPOSED TO WAIT FOR THE DOOR TO GIVE ME FRIGGIN' ANSWER?! HURRY THE HELL…" The bathroom door suddenly flew open, and a cloud of steam seeped from the aperture. Louie stood there scowling, fully clothed and smelling fresh as a rose. "…up." Dewey finished. "All yours," Louie flatly stated. Dewey wasn't shaken by his brother's scowl, and as he walked in the bathroom he retorted, "Geez, it took long enough." Louie just shook his head and made his way to the kitchen.
The head of the household and the boys' legal guardian, Donald Duck, was preparing a breakfast that consisted of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. Louie decided to get first dibs like he always did. "Mornin', Uncle D," he greeted. "Good morning, Louie," Donald replied, "Sleep alright?" "Yeah. At least I slept about as well as I could with two guys snoring and gassin' it up in the same room." "You'd better fight fire with fire, next time," Donald joked, "Speaking of which, where are the other two anyway?" Between bites, Louie responded, "Dewey kicked me outta the bathroom a few minutes ago, so he's takin' a shower," He bit into a slice of toast and continued, "As for Huey, I think he's still out cold. Don't quote me on that, though." With that last tidbit of information, Donald's temper immediately went from 0 to 100. "HE'S OUT COLD?!" He yelled, "IT'S THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL, AND HE'S ALREADY PULLING THIS BULLSHIT?!" Donald reached into the kitchen cupboards and drawers, and he emerged with a large frying pan and a metallic spoon seconds later. "Ummm…what are you gonna do with those?" Louie asked with a hint of uneasiness, to which Donald bluntly replied, "End hibernation." As Donald stormed towards the attic armed with his weapons, Louie continued eating and thought, "This won't end well. Can't say he didn't have it coming to him, though."
Donald crept into the attic and found his eldest nephew sleeping in as Louie suspected. Once he approached Huey's bed, Donald yelled, "ALRIGHT, BUSTER! UP N' AT 'EM!"
*CLANK! CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!*
Huey's brain was rattled with the sound of two metallic utensils clashing.
*CLANK! CLANK! CLANK!*
"ALRIGHT! I'M UP! DAMN!" Huey angrily exclaimed. He threw back is covers in a huff and irritably climbed out of bed, looking a ragged mess. "Time's a-wastin'! Get the lead outta your ass and get to school!" Donald yelled as he continued to bang the skillet like a drum. Huey growled and stomped his way to shower up, pushing Dewey to the side just as he exited the bathroom. "You finally awake, Sunshine?" Dewey teased. "Blow me," Huey hissed before slamming the door.
20 minutes later, breakfast was consumed and the boys prepared to head to their bus stop. Dewey and Louie were ready to depart but had to wait on Huey. "What's taking him so long?" Louie groaned. "I dunno. Probably tryin' to figure out what dress to wear, since he's actin' like a little…" "Say it, n' I'll kick your teeth in," Huey called from behind them, sporting a highly evident glare. "What? I was only gonna say 'girl,'" Dewey fibbed. Huey ignored him and walked out the front door grumbling, "Let's get this shit show over with." "Good to see you're excited too, bro!" Dewey grinned as he and Louie made their way to the bus stop.
***Goof Residence***
Having just shut off his alarm at 7:00, Max yawned audibly and stretched in his bed. It was a start of a brand new school year…of the same old stuff. At school, Max didn't seem to make much progress amongst his peers from a social perspective. Since Max was a small child, he was always looked at like an embarrassment or a freak to kids his age and older. Needless to say, Max's back was against the wall, and the odds were still stacked against him after so many years. THIS year was going to be different, however. This was Max's last year of junior high school before moving into the "big leagues." He was going to make damn sure that he would break the repetition of mediocrity. Max would join a band and flaunt his skills as an aspiring guitarist. He would get the respect of his peers he was consistently deprived of. And at long last, he would gain the attention of his elementary school crush, Roxanne. YES! Max was going to go out with a bang, this term. For the moment, he had to rid himself of the stigma that would surely prevent him from accomplishing his goals; dragon's breath and body odor.
After freshening himself up, Max threw on his rather modest attire; a plain red hoodie, blue jeans, and black sneakers. It wasn't as fashionable as the threads of his fellow students at the school, let alone most kids from neighborhoods all across Duckburg, but it was the most affordable clothes his father Goofy could provide. Max got dressed and went downstairs to grab a bite to eat. He made it to the kitchen and flicked light switch to illuminate his path. However, the kitchen was still enveloped in darkness, the only light being the sun rays gleaming through the window. "Mornin' son!" Goofy cheerfully said as he walked into the kitchen. Max looked back and replied, "Mornin', pop. Hey, do you know if we have any more light bulbs? I think the lights blew out." "Afraid that ain't the case, Maxie," Goofy responded, "Looks like the ceilin' fan died out last night." "Hm. That sucks. I guess I'll just get a bowl of…" "Not to worry. I'll have this baby up n' runnin' in no time!" Goofy proudly proclaimed as he walked in with a ladder. In the midst of his stroll, Goofy knocked over plates, ceramic jars, and glasses. "Whoops. Coulda swore I put those up. Guess they needed more time to dry. A-hyuck!" He said. "Dad, don't you think it would better to just call an electrician to fix this?" Max nervously asked. "Aw, nonsense. I'll fix this up in a jiffy." With that, Goofy proceeded to dismantle the ceiling fan, leaving Max to scramble to catch the pieces he was dropping. Thereafter, Goofy began to aimlessly troubleshoot the causes of the kitchen's "blackout." However, in that instant, Max suddenly made a shocking realization that could cause more damage than Goofy could fix. "Hey, Dad did you remember to turn off the…"
*KTZZZZZZZZZZZZ!*
Too late. Goofy had neglected to secure the breaker switch correlated to the affected ceiling light. As a result, Goofy found himself getting electrocuted. Max yelled, "DAD! HOLD ON!" He rushed to shut off the light switch, but he consequently watched as his father crash to the ground after the buzz. "Dad, are you alright?!" Max asked, shaking his father back to consciousness. "I guess the fan's still alive n' kickin', after all. A-hyuck," Goofy wearily commented. Max only sighed at yet another one of his father's many blunders. He took a look at the clock and noticed that time had flown faster than Goofy did to the floor. "Er…Look, pop. I've gotta get to school, so I'm just gonna grab some Pop-Tarts n' split. You…um…you be careful with fan, okay?" Max said as he grabbed a pack of toaster pastries. "See ya later, Maxie. Have a good day!" Goofy cheered. "I'll definitely try, but no promises." Max thought.
Things would be different this school year, and Max would be sure to solidify that vision. Yet he still had another obstacle standing in his way; his father. Well, it was more of the reputation that followed the man compared to the man himself. Max knew Goofy loved him dearly and wished the best for him, but Goofy's absent-mindedness and his penchant for causing blunders and mishaps have caused citizens of his former home, Spoonerville, and his new home of Duckburg MORE than a few outrages. It was a stigma that somehow rubbed off on his only son, although the two were as different as day and night. Nevertheless, Max was dedicated to breaking the cycle and earning a reputation that would bring pride to the family. And so, as he grabbed his skateboard and stepped out the front door of his home, Max set out to begin his teenage years anew.
***Pete Residence***
*BZZZ! BZZZ! BZZZ!*
7:00 AM. This was the first hour of the day that signified the end of a glorious summer vacation. Well, "glorious" seemed to have been an overstatement for Peter Pete Jr, informally known as PJ. Over the past 3 months, PJ seemed to be suckered into doing not only the mandatory grunt work around the house, but he was also (against his will) helping with his father Pete with the upkeep of his used auto lot. In addition, he often had to bring his 7-year-old sister Pistol when his parents were busy or away. To relieve himself of the workload, he tried to get out of the house and hang with his friends as much as possible. When he WASN'T able to leave, he would at least play video games or practicing licks on his bass guitar (spending probably more time with the latter). Unfortunately, that solace that he desperately sought and seldom acquired over the summer break had come to its resounding end. PJ got out of bed quite reluctantly and forcefully. "Geez. Was one more month too much to ask for? Or at least send Pistol to the circus when I begged Mom and Dad to do," PJ whined as he looked to the ceiling, complaining to a higher power.
It took 20 minutes for PJ to freshen up and get dressed. His stomach was roaring and he was looking forward to taming the beast within. Before he could make his way to the staircase, however, he was attacked from behind by an unrestrained ball of energy in pigtails; Pistol Pete. "PJ! PJ! It's the first day of school! Are you ready for it?! I'M ready for it! I wonder who classmates are gonna be? I wonder who my new teacher's gonna be? Who's gonna be your new teacher? Is Max gonna be in your class? Do you think daddy's still mad at you 'cause you failed that math test last year? Huh? Huh? Huh?" The name "Pistol" seemed to be inaccurate. The little feline was firing off questions with the speed and devastation of an AK-47. As Pistol hung off her older brother's back like a rag doll, PJ sighed and said, "Let's see if I can answer this grocery list worth of questions you just gave me. Ahem. No, I'm not ready. You are; Good for you. Um…You and I aren't in the same grade OR school, so whoever your guess for teacher and classmates are is just as good as mind." PJ started walking downstairs with his baby sister still clenching onto him, "I've got a schedule of who my teachers are, and I'm not looking forward to ANY of 'em. On the plus side, Yes; Max and a few of my friends DO share a few classes with me. So hopefully, we'll keep each other entertained. And last but not least, Dad SHOULDN'T be mad still. I was pretty much his slave for most of the summer, so if THAT didn't calm him down, nothin' will. Did I catch all of 'em?" "Oooooh! You ARE getting better!" Pistol giggled. "I've had plenty of years of practice after you started speaking," PJ replied.
PJ and Pistol were enticed by the sight of a well-prepared breakfast upon setting foot in the kitchen; the sweet scent of cinnamon rolls; the sizzle of freshly cooked bacon; the fluffiness of eggs cooked to perfection; glasses filled with tangy orange juice. This was the beginning of what would soon be a murder scene. The Pete family would be the culprits, and the delectable feast that sat before them would be their unfortunate victim. "Good morning, my little sweethearts," said Peg Pete, a real estate agent and mother to PJ and Pistol. "Morning, Mom. Morning, Dad," the two offspring greeted. "Yeah. Mornin'," replied their father Peter Pete Sr., a used automobile salesman. "So, are you ready for you first day, PJ?" asked Peg. "Well, not really. Kinda wish I had a bit more time to…" "You wanna say that again?" Pete asked threateningly as he lowered his newspaper, completely interrupting his son's answer. The sinister look in his father's eyes made PJ tremble a little, but he knew refraining from answering Pete would lead to dire consequences. "Um, w-well sir, it's just that I've been busy with…" "Busy?! You think YOU were busy?! Hmph! When I was your age I already had a summer job cuttin' grass n' washin' the grass off of cars for extra money! Kids these days don't know the meaning of hard work!" Pete argued. "I-I just wanted to see my friends a little bit more this summer. That's the only thing I meant, sir," PJ commented. "And THAT brings up my NEXT point. Consider yourself lucky that you were, as you say, 'BUSY.' Kept ya outta trouble hangin' with those hooligan triplets, that surfer bum with the bad hairdo, and ESPECIALLY that damned GOOF kid!" PJ's moral was crushed more than it was over the summer. "That's probably what caused you to fail that math test last year. So, don't give me any excuses. You're goin' to school and you're gonna knock all those classes, tests and homework assignments outta the park, see?! And if you even bring so much as a C- home, not even Alcatraz will compare to the lockdown you're gonna get! GOT IT?!"
By this point, the lady of the household was beginning to lose her patience. And when Peg loses her patience, along goes the ability to hold her tongue. She slammed her hands on the table and said, "WILL you put a SOCK IN IT, YOU HYPOCRITICAL NIMROD?!" The family's attention immediately went to Peg in that instant. Pete knew for sure he was in for another tongue lashing. "You CANNOT be serious! Are you really gonna sit here and try to justify robbing your son of his free time JUST SO YOU COULD HAVE A FEW DAYS TO GO FISHING?!" "But Honey Bunny, a little bit of summer labor teaches these kids about work ethic," Pete contested. Peg was far from amused by Pete's excuse. "Sure, if you call 'LETTING YOUR SON RUN YOUR BUSINESS WITHOUT RECEIVING A DIME' TEACHING WORK ETHIC!" Pistol looked in awe as the two bickered, whereas PJ ate his food as quickly as possible to spare himself of his parents' anger. The two seemed to be arguing MUCH more than they usually were, but PJ decided to take full advantage of the dispute just this once.
*DING DONG*
"Whew. My saving grace!" thought PJ. He grabbed his backpack, rushed to the living room and opened to door to find his neighbor and best friend Max waiting for him. "Hey! What's crackin', Max?" PJ warmly greeted, exchanging a special handshake with his buddy. "Sup, Peej. Ready to bounce?" "Oh, GOD Yes," PJ desperately replied, listening to his mother yelling in the distance. He figured it would be best to just grab his skateboard and sneak out while they were preoccupied. "Don't know how happy I am that you showed up, Max. It was getting heated in there, dude," he said. "Well, it can't be any worse than electrocution by way of a jacked up ceiling fan," Max commented. "Lemme guess; Mr. G?" "Yep." "Didn't shut off the breaker?" "Nope." "Did you volunteer to change the light bulbs?" "Yep." "Didn't listen, did he?" "Nope." PJ shook his head after hearing every response and sighed, "Well, at least you tried." "That's all I could do, PJ," Max replied, "Sometimes it feels like it's a lost cause, though." "Speak for BOTH of us, dude. My dad's trippin' already, and the school year technically hasn't even started yet. All that work I did this summer and he STILL feels like I'm not pulling my weight." "Then again, you have to consider this; you're a big boy, Peej. You've got quite a bit of weight to pull," Max joked as he hopped on his skateboard. "I've got just the right weight to burn you on the way to school." PJ snapped. Max confidently responded, "Challenge accepted." On that note, the race to the start of 8th grade began between the two comrades.
Yes, it seemed these five young gentlemen were reluctant to experience yet another year of mediocrity and agony, thanks to the Duckburg Education System and it's none too favorable student and faculty body. Despite it being the last year they would have to suffer at Duckburg Jr. High School, the future looked as bleak and dull as the past. Surely, nothing good would come to change their perspective on the school days ahead…
…Or could it?
Nothing much to report in this chapter. Just the gang dealing with morning sickness. And by SICKNESS, I mean sick of the B.S. that D-Burg Jr. High has been giving them... and school hasn't technically started yet! First day's always the worst day. lol
Be sure to spread this around like a sickness. Constructive criticism will make me a happy, industrious pup. With that being said, thanks for dropping by. Means more than you think. Dueces and best wishes to you n yours!
