Well, it's just about time for another installment of Longest Monday! I hope you guys are ready, because we're rapidly approaching the climax of this tale. It only took me a couple of hours to write actually.

Pay close attention as well, this chapter sets up for some very important plot points in the next one. So after I respond to the reviewers, take a read and tell me what you think.

Call Me Nettie- Channeling my own inner Arnold, I'd say I'm optimistic about her doing the right thing as well. Let's see if your guess was right!:)

Ajay435- As I've continued to write this fic, I've steadily added more and more ideas to it and I feel like Pataki's downfall was a good one. It's good to have some other sub plots that lead into the movie. And I would say rotting garbage is nasty no matter if it's sticky or moist xD

Kryten- An excellent guess!

Deep Voice'06- That's some pretty good deducing you did there. You'll find out whether or not you were correct very soon. And feel absolutely free to use this as canon in your story! I really hope you end up liking the ending.

Guest- Haha paranormal would have been a good option but I figured something more down to earth would fit better for an origin story. A trash can related death/ghost story would be a bit much for this situation.

The Rhombus- Indeed Hegla's dilemma serves as a basic backdrop for her whole situation she's dealing with. It's a nice little parallel. It's hard for her to overcome her trepidation but as to what she will do and Arnold too, well we're getting closer to finding out.

Guest- Thank you! I'm glad I could inspire your work in some way:)

Anyway, let me know your thoughts and feedback! And also enjoy!

Chapter 8. Hello, Wolfgang

Trash Can Day: T-Minus 7 hours

Monday morning had arrived and the final preparations for Trash Can Day were underway. Unbeknownst to the fifth graders, they had gathered in the same locker room that Wolfgang and his crew had used the previous year to plan the demise of the grade below them. True, it was a boy's room but no one gave it much thought except Rhonda.

"Ugh, I don't understand why we have to meet here," she complained. "It smells like body odor and gym socks."

"What did you expect coming into the boy's room?" Nadine shrugged, trying to console her pompous friend. "Besides, it's not that bad. Truth be told, the girl's locker room doesn't smell like a basket of roses either."

"That's because none of you have proper hygiene standards that was lucky enough to have developed when I was young," Rhonda sniffed. "Even so, there's no girl among us that's as dirty and sweaty as Harold."

"Hey! You take that back!" the Jewish boy shouted in offense.

"QUIET!"

The screeching of the megaphone caused everyone to cringe and put their hands over their ears. Looking up, they saw Helga standing in front of them, her trademark scowl in place, Gerald reluctantly standing behind her.

"Why in the heck does she always have one of them mega-thingies?" Stinky wondered aloud.

"Not like she needs one," Rhonda sassed.

"Zip it, princess!" Helga snarled, tossing the megaphone aside. "Alright, dweebs, let's get the particulars over with. As we all know, Trash Can Day is today and by the end of it, every fourth grader in this school is going to be smelling of garbage and hobo puke."

There was some scattered clapping from the crowd in response.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah whoop it up. In any case, tall hair boy over here is going to explain the plan that we came up with over the weekend. I'll leave it to him to go over the details."

Helga crossed her arms and stood off to one side, allowing Gerald space to say his piece.

"Thanks for the flattering introduction, Helga. Alright, ya'll know what we gotta do today," the black preteen explained, though his tone was less than enthusiastic. "In order to put every single fourth grader in the trash, several things need to happen. Number one: block the exits. Make sure no one leaves the school yard. Number two: keep an eye out for potential distractions…"

Though Gerald eased through his speech without much trouble, the atmosphere was somewhat subdued. In fact, no one seemed that eager or attentive to the day they had been prepping for a week. Phoebe yawned, Harold began fidgeting with the wrapper of a chocolate bar, and even Curly looked as though he'd rather be doing something else.

"I dunno, Sid" Stinky said in a hushed whisper to his friend. "Maybe Arnold was right. I'm not too sure we're doing the right thing no more by participating in this here Trash Can Day."

"A week ago, I would have said you were crazy," Sid responded. "But the truth is, this doesn't feel right to me either. I mean, what's the point anyway?"

"Still, it's not like we can back out now, after all this big talk. What the Sam Hill are we gonna do?"

As if his question had been heard by supernatural forces, the door to the boy's room suddenly swung open with a mighty crash. The crowd turned to see who it was that had interrupted the meeting, including Gerald, who had ceased his speech to join the onlookers.

A familiar football head walked through the door with a familiar smile and friendly disposition.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. What did I miss?"

No one answered him right away, as the shock had temporarily robbed them of their vocal chords. However, Helga wasted no time in addressing the unexpected visitor.

"Oh no!" she said aggressively, marching up the locker room until her face was merely a foot away from his. "If you think you're coming in here with another one of your stupid 'kumbaya' speeches then save it football head! Trash Can Day is happening whether you like it or not."

Gerald could only brace himself for another argument between the two. He supposed he better get involved sooner rather than later to prevent it from boiling over. The rest of the fifth graders seemed to sense the same thing.

Honestly, my man has the worst timing sometimes, Gerald thought, shaking his head.

But that boiling argument never materialized. Instead, Arnold smiled almost cheekily and deflected Helga's insults like swatting a fly.

"On the contrary, I didn't come here to attempt to stop you at all."

It was enough for everyone in the room to drop their jaw, including Helga, who's normally hostile façade flickered into surprise.

"Y-you…don't?"

Arnold continued to smile (Helga's stomach did a backflip), as if he had expected his classmates' reaction from the get go.

"Nope. In fact, I came here to let you know one thing: I'm in."


Trash Can Day: T-minus 4 hours

Wolfgang laughed as he completed an atomic wedgie over a hapless third grader's head.

"AHHH!"

"Ahahaha!" he guffawed. "You puny third graders are too easy. Just remember to give me twenty five percent of you lunch money every week, and we won't have this problem, got it?"

"Yes, s-sir, Mr. Wolfgang sir!"

"Good. Now get out of here."

Unfortunately for the third grader, the wedgie he had been given blocked his vision. As he tried to run away from his tormentor he ran into the red lockers head first, resulting in him landing on his backside with a humorous thud.

"Ugh!"

"Good lord you third graders are stupid," Wolfgang laughed as he proceeded to open up his locker. "It's like taking candy from a baby."

He mused through his belongings, searching for the lousy textbook he needed for his next class with the ever-boring Mr. Frank. He hated English, but he made the time go faster by flicking rubber bands with Edmund at some of the nerds.

"Sometimes it really is the simple things in life," he chuckled to himself.

"I quite agree," spoke a somewhat familiar voice behind him.

Wolfgang closed his locker, stuffing his English textbook into his bookbag, along with a hefty supply of rubber bands, mildly intrigued by who it was that actually sought his attention.

"Oh, it's you, football face. What do you want?"

"Well you may have forgotten, but today is Trash Can Day."

Wolfgang pondered this for a moment, remembering the conversation they had a couple days prior.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Well sorry to remind you but I'm a sixth grader now. You're a year off, pal."

The oblong headed boy didn't seem deterred by this fact. In fact, his features appeared to be quite pleased by the answer.

"I know, Wolfgang. Even so, on behalf of this year's fifth graders, we would like to extend an invitation to you to watch us commence the annual Trash Can Day ritual when we throw the first fourth grader into the dumpster."

The burly sixth grader shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Why would you care if I'm there or not?"

"Well considering everything we've learned comes from what happened last year, my classmates and I thought it would be fitting for you to witness it. After all, we owe it all to you."

Wolfgang considered this for a moment. On one hand, he had no horse in this race and could sooner tell the fifth graders to take a long walk off a short peer. But then again, if they had thought of him and wanted to give him a front row seat to the entertainment, there was no harm in watching the ceremonial first pitch so to speak. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything better to do after school.

"Alright, football face, consider me there. It'll probably be just as hilarious the second time around. And I don't even have to do anything except eat my popcorn."

"Excellent. We'll see you on the blacktop at three thirty?"

"Sure, whatever."

Wolfgang slung his backpack over his shoulders and walked away, feeling very pleased with himself. That the previous year's fourth graders wanted him there to witness the glory of his handiwork and all of those that came before him was pretty flattering. Why not indulge the little twerps?

"It's good to be the king," he said, feeling very proud of himself at the moment.

He never saw the mischievous smirk on Arnold's face.


Trash Can Day: T-minus 3 minutes

No fourth grader could possibly concentrate on anything that Monday…well except the clock on wall, which ticked ominously, counting the final seconds until their final doom.

To Robby Caldwell, his teacher's words may as well have gone in one ear and out the other. What was the point of United States' ecosystems and their respective food chains when a similar phenomenon was only minutes away at P.S. 118.

He had hounded Arnold, the shining beacon of fairness and justice, all week in the hopes of his grade avoid becoming the victims of the yearly hazing ritual that was Trash Can Day. However, since the Friday football game that occurred between them and the fifth graders, he hadn't bothered Arnold. The first reason was that he didn't want to cause him any more trouble than he had already experienced on his behalf. The second was that whatever fate was to befall them, it had probably already been set in stone since the day he had essentially put the outcome in the fifth graders' hands. Arnold knew of their plan to use Park's hideout from the previous year, and by extension, so did every other 5th grader. He had to assume the worst, what choice was there after all? It was better to be prepared than not.

"Pssst!" someone whispered to him. Robby saw it was his friend Josephine.

"What?"

"One minute until the bell rings."

"I'm pretty sure everyone in this room knows, Jo."

Indeed, he was not wrong. Practically every fourth grader had their eyes glued to the clock that rested above the chalkboard. If doomsday had a countdown, this was the closest equivalent any of them had ever known.

"Robby, what are we going to do?!" Josephine said frantically. "The fifth graders know exactly what our plans are. We'll be lucky if it takes us three days to stop smelling like moldy burritos."

"Just have faith, okay?" he responded, though he did not have great deal of confidence in his own encouraging sentiment. "Arnold may have convinced everyone not to go through with it."

"And if he didn't?"

"Well then it was nice knowing ya."

The bell rang loudly, putting a rather loud exclamation on their predicament. The moment of truth had arrived.

"Well, students, another day of academic achieving has come and gone!" they're young but totally oblivious teacher said to them. "Remember your homework on fractions and long division for tomorrow as well as one hundred words on John Adams and his Presidency. Dismissed!"

Barely registering her words, the fourth graders shuffled like disillusioned zombies out of the room, packed tightly in a group not even daring to spare their attention from every nick and cranny of the eerily quiet hallway. They moved along towards the exit, barely hoping to believe they would make it out of this intact.

"Maybe they just forgot?" one particularly naïve fourth grader spoke aloud.

"Don't be fooled," warned another. "This is how it starts. They want you to lure you into a false sense of security before striking."

"What if they're hiding in the all of the closets?! We should check every single one just to be sure!"

Robby couldn't help but roll his eyes. Paranoid ramblings wouldn't do anyone any good, even if he was just as scared himself. For the sake of everyone, someone needed to act sane…at least until all hell broke loose.

"Guys, relax…"

"Relax?!"

"Let's just hold off making any assumptions at least until we get outside," he tried to assure his classmates, as he pushed open the doors of the exit that lead to the blacktop outside.

The sight that greeted them, however, was not a welcome one. Waiting for their arrival, was every fifth grader in P.S. 118, faces smirking, lining every area of the schoolyard- the fences, the exits, and every single trash can, of which there were many.

"Can we make assumptions now?" Josephine asked, quite frightened.

"Just follow my lead, guys. We'll figure something out."

Amazingly, every fourth grade heeded him, although some extremely reluctantly as they walked down the steps onto the hot pavement. A loud slam could be heard behind them, as one of the fifth graders closed the door behind them, preventing any minimal chance they had to escape. All the while, they were being watched, no fifth grader taking their eyes off their quarry, as if predators sizing up their prey. Needless to say, it was unnerving for said prey.

The fourth graders stopped in the middle of the blacktop, fully surrounded, unsure of what to do next, but keenly aware of the fate that awaited them. The lack of action on the part of those who sought to trash can them seemed to unnerve a few select individuals, as one fourth grader suddenly broke out into hysterics.

"Stop the torment, please!" he said, sinking to his knees, tears forming in his eyes. "Just get it over with! I can't take it anymore!"

He was interrupted by another voice, one calm, pleasant and usually welcome to anyone who heard it. Which is why for Robby, it was deeply unsettling when it said what it did next.

"Not to worry. We won't be doing anything to you until we have a chance to explain what exactly is going on."

Robby's eyes narrowed as Arnold seemingly stepped out of nowhere, accompanied by his best friend Gerald, a familiar blonde girl with a pink bow he vaguely knew as 'Helga', as she had quite the reputation even among other grades. But right now, his focus was on the one with the oblong head.

"It's pretty clear what's going on," he said coldly. "We're all about to get trash canned. And apparently you're in on it now too, even after you promised to help me."

Arnold didn't seem offended by this at all and his pleasant tone remained as he spoke again.

"You misunderstand me, Robby. You see, my biggest mistake this week was thinking I could get rid of a tradition without understanding what makes people want to participate in it in the first place. Totally ignorant of the causes of violence."

"Arnold, what are you-"

"Just shut up and listen, bucko! You might learn something here," Helga cut across him.

"Thank you, Helga," Arnold said gesturing with a smile towards her.

"Keep going, football head. We don't have all day."

The fourth grade boy kept silent, definitely not wanting to provoke the wrath of one of the biggest bullies in the school. It certainly was an effective tactic.

"Right. Well, Robby, as you're aware I promised that I would help you try to get rid of Trash Can Day. But nothing seemed to convince my fellow classmates to join me. It seemed inevitable and that there wasn't anything I could do about it. That is until I realized something…we all realized something. We weren't actually angry or upset with the fourth graders, it was just misplaced revenge, a dark reminder of what we had gone through the year before."

Robby raised an eyebrow, and he could hear the confused murmurs of his fellow fourth graders. What exactly was Arnold driving at?

"So…what are you saying?" he asked slowly.

"That the only way to break this cycle of revenge, isn't to pass it down to the next generation of kids, but to hold the one who perpetrated it responsible."

Arnold turned his head, as did his friends, toward a hulking figure in the corner.

"Isn't that right, Wolfgang?"

The massive sixth grader's sneering face morphed into one of confusion. He had been thoroughly entertained up this point, thoroughly impressed with the fact that the fifth-grade wussies seemed to be toying with their victims before stuffing them into the garbage. The football face had even mentioned him as a source of inspiration. So why was he being called out?

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

All of a sudden, a large pair of hands, larger than his, grabbed onto his shoulders with ominous force. Looking back, he saw it was someone he hadn't interacted with in a long time. He wore a sleeveless, ripped shirt, complete with jeans and black combat boots. On his head sat a familiar blue do-rag.

"Hello, Wolfgang. Long time no see."

The sixth grader swallowed nervously in response.

"Torvald?"


To those of you who guessed Torvald, congrats! You are correct. Although in hindsight I probably made it way too obvious.

I really hope I had some of you fooled by Arnold's behavior haha. The question is, how did he get the rest of his friends to change their minds?

Find out in the next chapter!

~The Wasp