(Just an FYI, this chapter takes place in Bulgaria. So pretend that everyone is speaking Bulgarian. And now you know who the chapter is about :) Enjoy)

[Martin's POV]

"Martin! Give it back!"

I ran away from the enraged Simon, who was chasing me around the old playground because I hid his chocolate bar. Simon yelled at me the entire time. I just laughed. I did this all the time, and I found it quite hilarious. Last week, I hid his homework in his dresser, and he just about had a heart attack. It was great!

Anyways, Simon finally got me cornered against the orphanage wall. "Give me back my chocolate Martin!" He screamed.

I gave him my classic troll smirk. "Why do you think I have it? I don't."

I laughed as realization dawned on him. "BAKI!" He stormed up to Baki and my room, me trailing behind him. He smashed open the door to reveal a pale kid sitting in the dark reading a book. "Where is it Baki?!" Simon demanded.

Baki only glanced up from his book. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

Simon frowned and snatched the book out of his hands. "Aha!" He held the chocolate up triumphantly as Baki and I doubled over laughing.

"Man, you should've seen your face! It was great!" Baki commented, when we finally calmed down.

"Ten outta ten!" I replied.

Simon ripped open the wrapper and shoved the chocolate into his mouth. "Yeah yeah, ha ha ha ha," he said in between bites. "One day I'll get you two back."

I patted him on the shoulder. "Whatever you say man. I'll believe it when it happens."

The bell rang, signaling that our next class was gonna start in five minutes. "C'mon guys," I walked out of the room. "Gym unfortunately awaits us."

To make a long story short, Simon, Baki and I aren't the most athletic kids in the orphanage. Actually, that's an understatement. We are the most unathletic kids in prison. Oh, sorry. I mean "Happy Days Bulgarian Home for Orphans". What a stupid name. Happy Days is an ancient brick building that hasn't been updated since the 1800s. Bricks are falling off, the wooden playground is rotting away, and the food tastes and looks like it was from the same time the building was built. The name is ironic too, considering that a happy day in Happy Days is a day when I don't get noticed by Jared, word class jerk. And I've only had one of those days since I was born, and that was because he got food poisoning on an interview day (food poisoning is very common here, but the manager doesn't was the feds to know about it. At least that's what I heard).

But getting back on topic, in gym the new teacher, Mrs. Craw (she looks as terrifying as the name sounds), made us run laps. So the rest of the class actually tried to run the ten laps while Simon, Baki, and I walked the gym and talked. At the moment we were having a nice conversation about what the budget must be for this place.

"I'm just saying," Baki said, "the people who run this place must not get a lot of money. Why else would they serve expired food and not fix the broken wooden playground?"

"The same reason that our rooms all have broken old furniture, teachers that hate kids, and they don't try to get people to come here and adopt us; they want us to have the most miserable lives on planet earth." I replied.

"I heard that they really do make a lot of money, but everything goes to the management and nothing to improving the orphanage." Simon commented.

Baki shrugged. "Makes sense. It sounds like the kind of greedy thing they would do."

Mrs. Craw growled. "HEY! Short, Pale, Stupid! I don't see running over there! Ten more laps for you three, and actually running!"

"But Mrs. Craw-"

"Fifty push up for back talk too! Now chop chop!"

We started jogging around the gym, but we did it slow enough that we could still talk. "Does she have to call me short?" Simon mumbled angrily. "I hate being called short."

"But you are short," I quipped.

He punched me in the arm. "Shut up Martin. At least I'm not being called stupid a teacher."

I grit my teeth. "I couldn't find the hockey stuff one time, and she thinks I'm stupid. If she hadn't hidden them so weirdly..."

"Calm down you two," Baki interrupted. "You don't think I'm mad that she calls me pale? Well, I am. But we can't do anything about it. So..." He did his best impression of Mrs. Craw. "Chop chop Short and Stupid." We both slapped him as he laughed. "Seriously, let's just get this over with, before she decides to give us more laps."

It only took the rest of the class, but we finished. Sure, we could barely breathe and I felt like both my arms and legs were going to fall off, but it's over.

"Hey! Martin!" Never mind. Here comes Jared. He shoved me into the gym lockers. "You're a nerd, right?" He shoved a notebook into my arms. "This history project is due on Thursday. Do it. No lower then an A minus. Got it?"

I glared at him. "You're in seventh grade. I'm seven. Why don't you do your own homework?"

He kneed me in the stomach. "Watch your mouth. You're smart, and smart people do well in class. And I've been having you do my stuff for so long, the teachers are used to your handwriting being mine. So if you don't do it, they'll say I'm cheating and I'll fail. And if I fail, I get angry. And who do I take out my anger on?" He jabbed a finger to my chest. "This guy. Understand now?" I nodded resentfully. He finally backed away from me. "Good. Remember, here Thursday." Then he strolled out of the locker room with his friends.

As soon as he left, Simon and Baki came out of hiding. "Thanks for helping me with Jared guys." I said sarcastically.

"Sorry Martin," Baki said, putting his hands up. "But we figured that one half dead person is better than three."

Simon nodded. "That guy is so big, he'd beat us all up without breaking a sweat."

The bell rang again. "Crap!" Simon started sprinting towards the door. His next class was all the way across the orphanage, and the teachers do not tolerate tardiness. Baki and I walked behind him. Our math class was right nextdoor, so we weren't in much of a rush. But as soon as Simon opened the door, Jared tripped him. His papers scattered everywhere, and Jared just laughed.

"See you later shorty," he taunted as he walked away.

Simon pushed himself up while Baki and I picked up his stuff. "I'm not short," he mumbled.

"Why does he have to do this to us everyday?" Baki asked, handing Simon back his stuff. "It's not like we did anything to him."

"I don't know, but I'm gonna get him back for it this time." I told them.

Baki sighed. "Martin, you say that every time Jared bullies us. You always chicken out. Let's just get to class."

So Simon rushed off to his class and Baki and I walked into the math classroom. Because the orphanage is small, kids of all ages are in one class. In my math class, we have first, third, and fourth graders. It came with advantages in a way. Now I can do pretty much anything at an eighth grade level just from listening to the other grades in class. That's why Jared always makes me do his homework. That would be the disadvantage.

The teacher was talking about multiplication, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy making my master plan of revenge. I won't chicken out this time.

I woke up early the next day so I could put my plan into action. It was about 1 AM. I tiptoed out of the room so I wouldn't wake up Baki, then headed towards the cafeteria. There probably would be security people wandering the halls, so I had to be really careful, or else I'd be sent to Mr. Smith, the manager. If anyone broke the rules, they would go into his office and never come out. So I heard. But I don't want to find out if that's true or not.

Sneaking around turned out to be surprisingly easy. I only heard someone else walking down the hall once, and I just had to duck into a bathroom. So I got to the cafeteria in a matter of three minutes. I opened the door into the kitchen and looked around. There was what I think is clam chowder from yesterday, but it was a weird green color that I don't think occurs in nature. Perfect. Then I took out the paint I had smuggled out of the art room and the quick-dry cement (I swear, they put the most money into the art class for some reason. Why not edible food?!) then poured it into the bucket with the chowder. The paint would stain whatever it got on, I know from experience. The cement was just so it'd be thicker and hard to get off.

I thought about what else I could do to poor Jared. I got it! The hot dogs! They were from last year and still sitting on the counter, but no one had bothered to take care of them. They had gotten all moldy and smelly. So I used a knife and chopped them into pieces. The smell filled the room in seconds. I thought I was gonna throw up. But eventually I got the job done and put the tiny chunks into the bucket with the rest of the stuff. Then I tied a small white rope around it. I made sure it was secure then walked back into the cafeteria. There was a hole in the ceiling by the door, so I put the bucket in the hole with the help of several chairs, then led the rope over to my spot at the first grade table. I smirked to myself. I've never been so excited for a lunch in my life.

I sneaked back to my room and jumped back into bed. The clock said 1:36. Only eleven hours to go.

Lunch couldn't come fast enough. I did nothing but stare at the clock for the first four hours of the day, endured so bullying from Jared in between (I gave him back his project too. In my handwriting and with my name at the top that is. Duo revenge for me).

Finally, the hour came. The lunch hour of legends. I practically sprinted to the cafeteria. I got my lunch and sat down at my spot, the white rope in my hand. Then I stared at the door, waiting for Jared.

Simon and Baki sat next to me. "Why are you staring at the door Martin?" Simon asked.

"No reason," I responded.

Baki looked at the rope in my hand. "What's that for?"

"You'll see."

They looked at each other, then started picking at their food.

Five minutes later, I heard Jared and his friends from down the hallway. My grip tightened on the rope. This is it. Jared started walking through the door and I yanked the rope. My mixture fell onto him, covering him almost head to toe with chunky smelly red cement. Some even got on his friends. Bonus.

Jared and his friends screamed while everyone in the cafeteria laughed. Jared took a step forward and slipped, making everyone laugh harder. If I could see his face, I'm pretty sure it'd be a deep red.

A teacher wandered in to see what the commotion was about. She saw Jared and sent him and his friends to their rooms to clean up because she said that they smell like rotting fish in the sun. That made everyone laugh even harder. Jared and his friends walked out knowing a new feeling: humiliation. I think I even heard one kid yell, "Now you how we feel!"

Once everyone had calmed down, everyone started whispering about who might have done that. It could've been anyone. Pretty much everyone had been a victim of Jared at one point or another. I threw the rope across the cafeteria to get rid of the evidence. Simon and Baki smiled. "How'd you do it Martin?" Simon asked.

I smirked. "As far as you know, I didn't do it."

Baki laughed. "Yeah well whoever did it should do it more often. Pranks, I mean. And maybe whoever did it might want two sidekicks."

"Yeah," I responded. "That person just might like that. It seems like fun after all." We all high fived.

"That person is gonna be a pain in the butt," Simon commented.

I laughed. "Just call him Bodil (cactus or thorn in Bulgarian, in case you didn't know)."

Baki rubbed his hands together like an evil scientist. "Well, Mr. Bodil, life at Happy Days just got a lot more interesting."