Chapter 2: The Three Are Separated

DJ and Larry sprinted after Sam in the slippery hallways; it was no easy task – Sam was extremely good at keeping his footing on the slick floor. DJ had the advantage of speed on her side, but in conditions such as these, they were more of liability.

"SAM! SAM, GET BACK HERE!" DJ yelled at the back of her best friend. He was clearly looking for Jerk and his friends – what exactly it was he planned to do when he met them was still a mystery. DJ and Larry, being the good friends they are, were trying to make sure that he didn't get himself hurt in the process.

Sam skidded down one hallway, stopped, and turned a corner. DJ eyes widened at this nimble display of grace and agility – it wasn't something you'd expect out of an eleven-year-old, and especially out of Sam Bigby.

She and Larry ran full pelt after Sam; they rounded the same corner and prepared to run after him –

Only to run into something large and solid; a man was standing in their way. Both friends were knocked backwards. Rubbing her butt, DJ looked up and eyed the stranger. He was an odd looking one.

He was tall, and with thinning black hair. The stranger wore black sunglasses; and what appeared to be the following: a white jacket (with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows); a pink undershirt (very odd); white silk pants; and white loafers. He wore a yellow helmet with what appeared to be a police siren attached on top. It was flashing at them.

"Where do you think you two are going?" the stranger asked. He whipped off his sunglasses, and his dark eyes peered down at them.

DJ tried to see past the man, looking to see if Sam was behind him – but to no avail. Sam was gone. Sighing with frustration, DJ picked herself up and stared back the man.

"Um, just who are you – sir?" she asked politely.

"Vice Principal Crubbs!" gasped Larry. He seemed in awe – and fear.

"That's right – have you heard of me?" Crubbs seemed pleased to know that he was well-known.

"Yes sir. I have heard of you, from the other students."

"Oh, really? And what exactly did they say about me?" Crubbs seemed particularly pleased to hear that the students had been talking about him – perhaps he thought that the students liked him and had said nice things about him.

He was wrong.

"You're the terror of the entire student population!" Larry blurted out. DJ glared at him. Crubbs smile turned into a scowl in a span of mere seconds. He reached out, and with surprising strength, lifted them up by their collars and proceeded to carry them off to some unknown location.

"Hey, wait, where you think you're taking us?!" DJ tried to struggle but it was no use. Crubbs was too strong.

Marching along, he growled: "It's the first day of school and I already catch two students running in the hallway – especially when the 'NO RUNNING' sign has been posted because of the wet floors! Not only that, but they have the nerve to insult me!"

Great. Their situation had gone from bad, to worse. Oh well. DJ still had Larry to keep her company to wherever Crubbs was taking them. She glanced to her side –

Her jaw dropped. Larry was gone. All that was hanging from Crubbs fist was an empty orange vest.

That little chicken. He had taken off his vest and slithered out of Crubbs grasp without a hitch. DJ had no such advantage – all her clothes were still soaked. She muttered something colorful about Larry.

"AND language, too. My, my, my you are just the troublemaker aren't you?" Crubbs noticed his empty hand. "HEY! Where'd that other kid go?"

"I honestly don't know, sir." But when DJ found out – oh, heads would roll.

Crubbs was livid for a moment – then he smiled crookedly and his attention was all directed toward DJ. "That's alright – I still have you. Your friend will pay later."

DJ agreed.

"Welcome to James K. Polk Middle School, miss. You're a lucky one today – you get the extended free tour of Vice Principal Crubbs office!"

DJ groaned, and Vice Principal Crubbs continued his mad march towards his office. She could not believe her luck right now. The day was just starting and she was already neck deep in trouble.

She idly wondered what Sam (and that soon-to-be-dead Larry) was doing right now. DJ – despite her current circumstances – wished that both of her friends were having better fortune than her.


Sam was having the worst of luck today. After running after Jerk and his comrades in an extreme fit of maniacal rage (nothing new from Sam) he had, to his great misfortune, caught up to them. It was at the worst of moments.

"Listen, Porcupine, you know the deal. You give us the lunch money that is in your pocket, and we'll make sure you don't get hurt." Jerk smiled nastily to give his point across. His hand was stretched out, expectantly. The kid – Porcupine was his name (his hair was sticking up like the needles of a porcupine – go figure) was backed up against a dead end, and the three bullies were cornering him. He had no way out. But he still resisted.

"No way! I know the routine – I give you the money, and you STILL beat me up." Porcupine looked defiant. Jerk's smile turned upside down in a flash. He gave a great exaggerated sigh.

"Oh, well. We warned you, man." His fist pulled back –

All thoughts of revenge disappeared from Sam's mind. In a flash, he was in front of Porcupine, using his body as a shield. Porcupine looked amazed. So did Jerk.

"How'd you get here so fast?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"What I lack in size, Jerk, I make up for in speed", Sam retorted. His clear blue eyes challenged Jerk's dark ones.

"Let's see you dodge this, then!" His fist rushed at them.

Sam caught it, and Jerk found himself struggling. "Maybe we can talk about this?" Sam asked, nervously. Fighting always made him anxious and fidgety for some reason. He couldn't remember why.

"Talk about what?"

"You know this whole situation with Porcupine's lunch money. Perhaps a trade, a bargain, an agreement between you two?" Sam relied on wit and words to get out situations like these. He prayed that it would work.

It did.

"Okay, fine. But what do I get for not pummeling him?" Jerk folded his arms across his chest and waited. He seemed amused by Sam's offer.

Sam sighed with relief, and in his mind he was writing another tip in his ever-expanding Guide: Tip #4: Violence is never the answer. If you're ever in a sticky situation (like mine, for example) take a deep breath and calm yourself down. There's always another way out. Compromises and negotiations make for great ways to defuse the situation before it explodes. If you think that the problem might get violent, make sure that you have a trusted adult nearby to act as mediator. Everybody wins, and more importantly no one gets hurt.

"I'm waiting, Bigby", Jerk said impatiently.

"Okay, okay, uh . . ." a thought came to his head suddenly, "how about MY lunch money instead?" He dug deep into his pocket. Sam was reluctant to give up his money – that meant no lunch for him. But if it would ensure Porcupine's safety, then it was well worth a missed meal.

"Deal." Jerk took the money. "Later, Bigby. Later, Porcupine. It's good doing business with you both." He snickered and left them both. Sam, relieved at how well that went, sagged against the wall and sat down on the floor.

"You didn't have to do that, Sam." Porcupine sounded both grateful and ashamed.

"No, its okay, Porcupine. As long as you're unhurt then it was worth it."

"But you're going to be hungry for lunch!"

Sam shrugged. "It's probably nothing good anyway." (Sam actually had a whole section in his Guide about cafeteria food.)

"It's the first day!"

"So?"

"So, that means that it's Pizza day!"

Pizza Day? Sam's stomach rumbled hungrily at the idea. Pizza Day was one of Sam's favorite days of the year. Mmmm . . . pizza. Another tip formed in his mind: Tip #5: In case of emergencies, always bring a back up lunch (or extra money) just in case. You never know. Best be prepared.

"Uh, Sam? You're drooling a bit."

"Huh? Oh, sorry." He wiped it off.

The bell rang. It was time to get to class. Sam stood up, and began to walk to class. He waved good-bye to the grateful Porcupine one last time before disappearing around the corner.

Porcupine made squeezed his hands tight until they both hurt. That stupid Jerk and his friends. They had taken Sam's money! Porcupine owed Sam – and he would make sure that he would pay that debt in full. How to get back at Jerk . . .

An idea slowly formed in his mind. He smiled, and followed Sam to class.


Larry was having similar luck – he, too, was trapped. But not by bullies or vice principals – no, he was being trapped by weasels. A whole pack of them, staring at him with their nasty little glow-in-the-dark eyes.

He was trapped in the Janitor's closet – in his daring escape from the Vice Principal (and subsequent ditching of DJ – he would make it up to her later; that is, if she didn't kill him first) he had darted to the nearest closet and locked himself inside.

Not one of his greatest plans yet. The weasels stared at him, waiting for him to make his next move. He gulped, and suddenly wished that he had at least tried to bring his orange vest with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He had to think!

Larry applied his enormous IQ to the problem. Think, think, and think!

Pffft. Brain fart. He was screwed.

"Hey, who's in my closet?"

The light suddenly switched on to reveal a man lying on a hammock inside the closet. Larry could not believe it. Someone lived in here? Who the heck lives inside of a Janitor's Closet?

"Who's that?"

The man squinted at Larry. "Do I know you?"

"Uh, no", Larry squeaked nervously.

The strange man leaned forward to squint at him some more, and Larry managed to get a better picture of him. He was wearing a janitor's uniform, and had messy brown hair that was laced with some gray. Kind brown eyes stared at him, and Larry noted that he had a weird TV-narrator kind of voice. Odd. Larry got the feeling that this man could be trusted. He reminded Larry a lot of Sam – just older.

"Are you sure I don't know you?" Gordy asked (Larry noticed the name on the uniform).

"Yeah . . ."

Gordy shook his head, and yawned. "I'm sorry – it's just that you remind me a lot of a friend of mine."

He noticed the pack of weasels. "Ah, weasels! You're awake. Sorry, it looks like Momma isn't back yet. She'll be better, soon, I hope. Ned, Moze, and Cookie volunteered to help her get better – haven't heard from them for awhile, though." He seemed a little saddened by this. Larry was curious – Ned, Moze, and Cookie. The names sounded so familiar . . .

"So I take it those are your weasels?" Larry asked cautiously.

"Well, not really mine. They are the schools! School mascots you could call them, I guess. Crubbs keeps finding ways to try to get them out, but Principal Wright likes them fine." He noticed Larry's age. "You're new here aren't you?" He suddenly seemed bright and happy again.

"Yes, I am." Larry was feeling safer and safer with Gordy – the guy projected an aura of friendship and kindness.

"Do you have friends?"

"Yeah – Sam and DJ." He suddenly felt guilty about DJ – Larry had ditched her to Crubbs after all. And he didn't even know how Sam was doing.

"What's wrong?" Gordy asked noting his suddenly guilty expression.

Larry explained his situation.

"I see." Gordy rubbed his chin thoughtfully and sat thinking. Then a thought came to him. He eyed the weasels.

"I've dealt with Crubbs before – and he doesn't like the weasels. Not because they pose a danger to the school (which they don't – a little rabies never hurt anyone) but because he's personally afraid of them. If I can distract him long enough, your friend DJ can escape . . ."

Larry shot his hand down his pocket remembering something. He pulled out a small remote control. It was a separate remote control that he could use for his orange vest! It could help them during the escape . . .

Together with his new friend, Gordy the Janitor, Larry began to plan how to bust DJ out of her prison.


DJ sat idly in Crubbs office; waiting for him to come back (he had left to go get some powdered doughnuts in a vending machine). She sat calmly, peacefully, and tranquilly – how you ask? Simple: she was imagining all the things she would do to Larry when she caught up with him. This caused a large, nasty smile to light up her face; as Sam would say, she was having one of her 'moments'.

DJ's POV

DJ's Moments: Periods of varying lengths of time, where I get so angry at someone or something (i.e. Larry and his STUPID orange vest) that my mind is temporarily consumed with images of random acts of violence against said person or object. I kind of zone out, but not in the way most people imagine regular daydreaming to be.

DJ was so absorbed in her little fantasy involving her holding a golf club and a gagged and bound Larry, that she didn't notice Crubbs returning from the vending machine. He had taken Larry's orange vest with him (DJ didn't want to get Larry in trouble – as weird as that sounds – because if Crubbs had Larry, then how would SHE get to him) just for safe keeping. Crubbs threw the vest down onto the desk where it landed with a rather loud thud. DJ winced – she had already seen what the vest was capable off.

"Sorry about that Miss Ryan – it's been a rough day for me. The powdered doughnuts help me keep my rosy complexion free of wrinkles and rashes from the stress of this job." He popped one in his mouth and chomped down on it, with clear disregard for manners. DJ watched unembarrassed however – living with Sam made you immune to certain disgusting things.

"Can you believe it? It's the first day – I get a report that a bus almost crashed on the way to school; bully reports are popping up all over the campus; you and that Larry almost crash into me; AND the school is on high alert!"

High Alert – James K. Polk was on high alert? Why?

"Sir, if I may ask – why?" DJ inquired.

"I don't know – you two were the ones who almost crashed into me! Ask yourselves that!" He proceeded to pop two more powdered doughnuts into his mouth. Sugar cascaded down from his mouth onto his shirt and desk, not unlike snowflakes.

"No, not that – why is the school on high alert?"

He swallowed the two doughnuts before he finished with them. He gagged on them for awhile, and then washed them down with some coffee from his thermos. Then Crubbs began to gag on THAT as well (it was fairly hot).

When he was finished, he replied with a fake smile, "I didn't say that."

DJ was intrigued – why was he denying what he just said? "Yes, you did. I just heard you!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Look, I'm not here to argue with you little boy."

DJ's anger – already boiling with heat at Larry – erupted like a volcano. "I'M A GIRL!"

Crubbs looked vaguely disinterested. "Oh, sorry about that. A common mistake of mine." He carelessly examined his fingernails (covered with powder and chunks of doughnut).

DJ calmed herself down using a technique taught to her by Sam. She held her breath for ten seconds and closed her eyes shut. When ten seconds were up, she slowly exhaled out and opened her eyes. She was finally calm. DJ tried to obtain information once more.

"Why is the school on High Alert?"

Crubbs eyed her out of the corner of his eye. Then he sighed.

"I guess I've let the cat out of the bag too soon. Principal Wright would kill me if I he found out that I told a student this . . . but I don't have choice anymore." He ran a hand through his thinning hair and sat back in his chair.

"Have you heard of a woman named Mary Jane Rapier?"

"Who?"

"WEASEL!"

What?!


The weasel flew through the air, and hit Crubbs full on the face. He shouted and his hands rushed to his face. The weasel began to scratch and bite ferociously. Crubbs screamed and stood up, trying to get a better grip on the thing.

DJ watched with bizarre fascination at the unfolding scene. Just what the hell was happening?!

A small hand reached out and grabbed the orange vest from Vice Principal Crubbs desk. DJ recognized that hand immediately – Larry!

"DJ, I've come to bust you out", Larry whispered. He was crouched down low, his dark face practically shining with excitement.

DJ's fist rose up immediately without second thought. It was pure instinct.

Larry whispered loudly, "NO! DJ, NO!"

"Why not?"

"I'm here to rescue you!"

"You're the one who put me here in the first place!" DJ retorted.

Larry looked guilty. "But I'm here aren't I?"

"HEY! You two – get your butts over here pronto!" Gordy gestured at them to move it. DJ exhaled, frustrated, and sprinted out of the office with Larry on her heels.

"Who are you?" DJ asked Gordy as they ran out.

"I'm Gordy." He squinted at her. "Do I know you?"

"No. Why?"

Gordy shook his head. "Nothing. Déjà vu, I guess. You remind me of a girl I know." He smiled a little sadly, and then shook his head. "But hey, out with the old, in with the new."

DJ had no idea what he was talking about – but he was a friend. DJ took Gordy's hand and shook it. "I'm DJ – short for Danielle Jennifer. But I prefer DJ. Seriously, I prefer DJ. Call me Danielle or Jennifer and I'll kick your ass. Nice to meet you, Gordy."

Gordy stood up proudly and gripped DJ's hand vigorously. "Right back at you, DJ. Let's see where this interesting friendship goes." He smiled at her broadly.

Larry cut in. "Uh, guys, I don't mean to cut in, but he's, uh, GETTING ANGRY!"

"GORDY! YOU'RE GOING TO GET IT NOW!" Crubbs came rushing out of his office and glared at the three individuals with a murderous gaze. There were weasel scratches and bites all over his face.

Gordy whistled and suddenly more weasels came to their aid. He pointed at Crubbs and they immediately made their way toward him. In seconds, Crubbs was covered with the whole pack of weasels.

"We have to go now", Gordy urged.

DJ nodded. An abrupt roaring sound resounded from behind her, and she realized that Crubbs had thrown off the entire pack of weasels. He held up a small spray canister. Labeled on it was –

"Weasel repellent! Where did you get that?!" Gordy demanded.

"From your closet, Gordy. During my last inspection I sneaked some into my pocket. Just in case something like this happened." Crubbs was crazy – he clearly wasn't having a good day.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" Larry threw something at Crubbs – something small, spherical, and metallic –

It exploded and a cloud of smoke covered the hallway. DJ found herself coughing and wheezing, until someone picked her up. Who?

"DJ! You alright?" Sam?

"Sam, what are you doing here?" she asked, dumbfounded. Through the dense smoke she really couldn't tell, but Sam looked a little worse for wear. His hair was tussled up – he had a black eye, a split lip, and he looked to be in some pain. But he still picked her up, ignoring the pain it caused him.

Larry appeared through the smoke with Gordy. Both were wearing gas masks. "DJ are you alright?" He was worried. Gordy, however, was staring at Sam.

"Do I know you?"

Sam said, "No – but having another friend never hurt anyone." He stuck out a hand. "Sam."

Gordy shook it. "Gordy. You look familiar . . ."

Sam shrugged and pulled DJ off the floor. Gordy shook his head, and asked Larry what he had thrown at Crubbs.

"Knock-out gas. Non-lethal. That little baby will put Crubbs out faster than you can say 'quantum mechanics'. Not only that, but he won't remember anything afterwards. It erases your memories – temporarily, of course."

Gordy looked engrossed in Larry's invention. "Ingenious! Sounds like something from the army."

Larry looked nervous. "No, it isn't."

"Illegal, eh?"

". . . Maybe."

Gordy clapped on Larry on the back, grinning. "My kind of guy! I have an army-issue net launcher in my closet you might want to see . . ." He led Larry through the hallway.

"Cool!" Larry looked excited.

Sam carried the slumping DJ on his shoulder, and began to carry her through the hallway. He noted the extremely large mess they had made and called out to Gordy, "What are you going to do about the mess? You're the janitor, right?"

"Eh, I'll let the night guy get it."

Sam grinned. DJ became aware that he was limping – quite badly, in fact. "Sam, you're hurt."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me", he said cheerfully.

She suddenly grew suspicious. "Does this have to do with that Jerk?"

Sam's cheerful smile never faltered. "No. Well, not really. I'm going to solve that problem, soon."

DJ was interested. "I'd sure like to hear about that."

"Maybe at lunch. I'd like you to meet some new friends of mine."

"Not until you see a nurse."

Sam pouted. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Uh-uh, Sam Bigby. You march yourself up to the nurse's office right now." And with that all thought of Mary Jane Rapier was flung from her mind.

Gordy eyed the two young ones from afar. He whispered to Larry, "What's with those two?"

"Who, Sam and DJ?"

"Yeah. They seem a little close. Best friends, I assume."

"Yes – almost brother and sister. They'd never date, of course." Larry's attention returned to Gordy's army-grade net launcher.

"Yeah, okay, whatever." Gordy had experience in that kind of relationship – best friends were always destined to date, one way or another. They were just too close. He decided to keep on an eye on those two . . .

DJ finally managed to convince Sam (well 'convince' is really an understatement; more like 'threatened') to head over to the nurse's office. She shouldered him and Sam limped with her looking sullen that he had lost the argument.

Principal Crubbs lay unconscious in a hallway, covered in scratches and bites – and sleeping weasels. When he woke up, Crubbs would not have any memory of what just happened. . .

Three bullies were waiting for Sam at lunch – but Sam and his newfound friends had a surprise in wait for them . . .

A mysterious woman named Mary Jane Rapier was worrying the teachers at James K. Polk Middle School . . .

What a weird first day – and it still wasn't over.


Uhhh . . . yeah, so another chapter. I'm sorry if it took so long – I've been kind of sick lately. I caught a cold, and it took several days to get over it. Ugh. I hate being sick. Well, anyway I'm better now. But I'm depressed. Frankly, I preferred being sick. Why am I depressed? Almost no one is reviewing my new story! 3 reviews in . . . what? 5 days! One of those reviews was mine! So yeah, a little depressing. I'll still continue of course, to those who review (MUCH appreciated to those who review). I'm pretty sure they'll all review again – you guys loved my other story. But where is everybody else? Oh well. I'm hoping that they'll start reading again, soon. So yeah, read and review and more will come.

REALLYBlueRoyKaz