Disclaimer: The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy is not mine. Neither is The Phantom of The Opera.

Author's Note: Yeah, here's chapter ten. My apologies-- it's a bit late again! I have a good reason, though: I was at art camp for a week and couldn't type it up. Now I'm back, so... here's the story! Oh, also, I changed the rating to T. Just to let you know...

CHAPTER 10: LET'S KEEP THIS CLEAN, PEOPLE

"Mandy... what are you talking about?" Billy watches my clenched fist uneasily. "Why are you so mad?"

"Stop being an idiot! You know why!"

"I... I do?"

"It was one of you, wasn't it?" I say. "One of you let something slip!" I glare at them. "Or made something slip."

"Let what slip?"

"I know you know what I'm talking about!"

There's a short silence. Billy raises his hand slowly. I roll my eyes.

"What, Billy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I sigh. "Look. There's this rumor going around that I'm... well... that I'm easy. And there's this--"

Billy raises his hand again. "What's 'easy' mean?"

I rub my forehead slowly. "You know. Like, with guys?"

He continues to stare at me questioningly. "Easy with guys? Easy how?"

"Uh... you know... like... letting them... touch me and stuff."

Billy stares at me for a moment, then leans over and slowly extends a hand so it's touching my face. Then he returns to his seat.

"Wow!" he says. "That was really easy! Man, they're sure right about you, Mandy. You are one easy girl!"

"Shut up, idiot!" I say. "Not like that! Like... like when we saw that one movie, and there was this one part where your mom made you close your eyes?"

He thinks for a moment, then his face becomes momentarily solemn. "You mean..."

"Yes," I nod slowly. "That. So, there's a rumor going around that I'm easy. And it started with this photo of you and me on top of the copying machine that made it look like I... like we... you know..."

Billy gasps. "Someone saw us...?"

"Well... yeah. They did, but the photo... um... it made it look about ten times worse than it actually was."

Billy is quiet for a moment. "Gosh," he says. "I'm sorry, Mandy."

"Shut up," I say. "It's too late for 'sorry'. But judging by your obvious ignorance about it, I don't think you could have had anything to do with the spreading of the rumor." I look at Irwin, who's been silent the whole time. "What do you think about this whole thing?"

He puts down his juice. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about, 'Could a ticked-off little nerd like you have had a hand in it?'."

"Had a hand in it?! Mandy, why would I do something like that?"

"You tell me. You're the suspect."

His eyes widen. "What?! How are you blaming me for this?! I'm your friend! Remember??"

"My angry friend."

"Mandy!! What are you doing?! I swear I didn't do this!!" He looks at me. "Can't you trust me?"

"How about I try throwing you around a couple times, and we can see if you fly far enough?"

"I don't believe this!" he says. He gets up and picks up his things. "I thought you knew me better than that, yo!!" I say nothing as he leaves the table.

"Wow," Billy says after a while.

"What do you mean, 'wow'?"

"I mean... what's going on?"

I shake my head slowly. "I don't know, Billy. Just eat your lunch."

"438 what?!"

"Dollars," Dean Fitzgerald says, jotting notes down on a little piece of paper. "And twenty-six cents, to be precise about things."

"That's ridiculous!" I say.

Fitzgerald laughs a dry, humorless laugh. "He-heh. No, Mandy. What's ridiculous is two kid breaking a perfectly good copying machine and expecting not to have to pay for it."

"Well, where are we supposed to get that kind of money?!"

"I got's two pennies in my pocket," Billy offers. "I got's a worm, too, but... uh.. I kind of think he..." He opens his pocket and peers into it. "Ah. Yep. He died. You were saying, Mrs. Fitzy?"

Dean Fitzgerald looks at him. "It's, uh, it's 'Ms.', Billy. 'Ms. Fitzgerald'."

"Gotcha!"

"Now," she says. "I have talked with your parents, and we've decided that you two will work off your debts to the school after hours by participating in janitorial duties."

"Janitorial what?!"

"Work," says Ms. Fitzgerald. "You're going to have to do work."

"I know what it means!" I say. "Listen. Isn't there another way we could do this? My parents could pay this off--"

Dean Fitzgerald smiles. "Oh? Okay, then. Let's have your parents pay it off. Then, when you move out, they can do all your laundry and cook all your food and pay all your taxes for you. Won't that just be fun?"

I glare at her. "So, you'd really rather just make this complicated?"

"If you want to complain, I can always just give you more detention."

I decide to shut up for now. I don't need another hour in room 006 keeping me from my life.

"You and Billy will report to the main desk at three-thirty after school to receive your assignments. Then, you will work until your assignments are complete." She pulls two orange passes out of her desk and writes on them. "You're dismissed," she says, handing us the slips of paper. "You can start today after school."

I leave the office, glance around for the hall monitor, then pull out my cell phone. I dial, then wait. Grim picks up after a couple rings.

"Hello? Who is it?"

"It's Mandy," I say. "I have a new assignment for you. Every day at three-thirty until further notice I want you to come to school and work various janitorial duties. You will arrive at three thirty sharp and wait for me to give you your assignment. Understood?"

"What? Mandy, I can't do that!"

"It's an order, Grim."

"Wha--? Buh--! Listen! You really think stuff doesn't happen to me when you're not around? This job is weighing me down! It's not easy doing what I do, you know?! I have so many stupid, uncooperative clients to deal with, tons of supernatural leaks coming from the trunk all the time, and I don't even want to mention all the chores you make me do! I'm swamped! Swamped, mon!"

"I didn't ask if you were busy, Grim. You need time? Make time."

"I don't have any time to make time! Half the time, I'm running on no time! Negative time! Do you want me to fix that computer or not?!"

I sigh loudly. "Fine! Stupid bag of lazy bones..." I hang up.

"What'd he say?" Billy says.

"He said he's an idiot, and he's too stupid to be of any help."

"Gosh!" Billy says. "He said that?! When I tried to get him to say that, he just zapped Irwin's voice recorder to bits and went away!"

"Yes, well, the point is we're going to have to do this work ourselves," I grumble. "Alone."

"Ah, well--" Billy is interrupted by a loud squeal.

"Oh my gosh, I must say!!"

"Oh," I say, turning around. "If it isn't the queen herself."

Mindy approaches us, her fancy new shoes clacking on the floor as she comes. "I overheard the whole thing, Mandy, and I absolutely must say. Janitorical duties?? That is--"

"'Janitorial'," I say.

"Janitorial duties?? That is so positively un-classy that I can't even begin to describe it. It's like, whoa! Tacky!"

"Tackier than coming to the Earth Day Assembly in a big fur coat that says 'I Recycle'?"

She hesitates. "It's not like they were endangered foxes, or anything. Besides. Janitorical work is just--"

"'Janitorial'," Billy says.

"Besides. Janitorial work is just low. It's like, what are you, anyways? A foreign person? Or a criminal, or something? What are you, a foreign criminal, or something?"

"Uh, yes, Mindy. Exactly. I'm a wanted thief from a far off country come to clean your bathroom."

"Well, I say you're a lewwzer. By the way, Mandy, how are things going with your little boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I say.

"Oh, come on, Mandy! Everybody knows about your little game in the copying room. I just feel sorry for poor Billy over here. I mean, does he know you've been letting other boys get so... familiar with you?"

I groan. "Look, I'm not sure how much people are saying about me by now, but it isn't true, all right?"

"Oh, Mandy," she giggles. "You should know not to get into these kinds of situations if you don't want people to talk about you. But, hey. I'll give you props for actually trying to hide it this long." She starts walking down the hall, her shiny shoes clacking along with her. "You're classic, Mandy," she laughs.

I clench one of my hands into a tight fist. If I had the scythe right now, I'd... Oh, wait. I guess I'd probably have to get arrested or something if I did that... Oh, well. I just hope she gets into some really horrible accident.

The bell rings. everybody leaves. Billy and I stay. We pass empty classes as we head for the main desk. A few stray teachers and students pass us in the unnaturally quiet halls. When we get to the main desk, we find a woman with an expressionless face talking into a telephone propped on her shoulder and typing information into a bulky computer. She glances at us. Her stream of conversation goes unbroken as she hands us two buckets, two mops, a case of cleaning supplies, and a scribbly list of tasks. I hate my life.

I take a look at the list, groaning softly. Among the jobs listed are "mop the cafeteria", "clean first floor hallway windows", and "remove gum from chairs". I look at the mops. They're disgusting. I look at the case of cleaning supplies and realize that neither of us even know how to use a good, hefty lot of the things inside. Did I mention I hate my life? I hate my life.

We grab our great load of stuff and head to the cafeteria. Billy sets his bucket down, fills it with diluted window cleaner, and begins attempting to scrub the floor with the hand broom. I drop all my stuff at my feet, find a table, and sit down on it.

"Well, this stinks," I say glumly.

"It's not so bad," says Billy, "once you get used to the orangey smell."

"I wasn't talking about the soap, you dork," I reply, picking at a worn spot on my shoe.

"Oh."

Things are quiet for a while longer as Billy scrubs the floor and I lie on the table watching two flies attack each other by one of the flickering lights on the ceiling. Suddenly it occurs to me that we're alone. Very alone. I start to feel the black slime on my stomach again.

Out of nowhere Billy says, "Hey, so, uh... how ya been? Things going good?"

I don't respond. I wish he just wouldn't talk to me... He resumes his work. Then he says, "Yeah, well, things've been okay with me, anyway..."

"Shut it," I murmur. "Can't hear my own stupid thoughts..."

"Thoughts? Whatcha thinking about?"

I glance at him. Us, I think. Us, alone. The last time we were alone like this... I blink away my thoughts. "Since when is it your business?" I reply.

"Oh," he says. "Sorry." He resumes his work. Then he says, "Those two flies sure are mad at each other, huh, Mandy?"

"Flies don't have feelings. No animals do." Man, why does he have to keep saying stuff??

"Oh." He resumes his work. Then he says, "There sure is a lot of stuff on this floor."

"No kidding."

"I'm not kidding."

"I never said you were."

"Oh," he says. He resumes his work. Then he says, "You have Mrs. Eves, right?"

"Yeah," I say. My hands start to sweat...

"What was the homework?"

"We didn't have any," I say.

"Oh," he says. He resumes his work. I continue to watch the flies. A clock on one end of the room ticks softly away. A clock on the other end of the room ticks to a slightly-off version of the same rhythm, so that the two together produce a sort of tick-tick... tick-tick... tick-tick... tick-tick noise which sounds a little more like the anxious, anticipating beat of a nervous heart than any clock I ever heard. But, you know. Maybe it's just me.

Then he says, "You know, it's kinda funny... I mean... he-heh... this is the first time we've been alone together since... uh... since..." He trails off and I can hear that he's stopped scrubbing the floor. Now the only sound is the two clocks. Or my heart. Or something.

I get up, grabbing my mop and bucket. I head for the lunchroom door.

"Mandy...?" he calls. "Where are you going?"

"To get gum off chairs."

"Oh... You need some--"

"Help? No. See you around."

"But I--"

"Too bad."

"But...," he calls, "there was... something I... wanted to talk about?"

"It's not up for discussion right now, okay?"

"But Mandy--"

"Listen," I say. "If we keep bringing it up and bringing it up, it's only going to get more complicated. I don't want this to be complicated. Okay??"

"But Mandy, I... I just... I...," he sighs, then picks up his soggy broom and smiles. "Okay's! See you later, Mandy!"

I head to the first classroom, my bucket bumping against my legs as I walk. Once I get in, I grab a piece of tissue from the teacher's desk and take a look at the underside of the first chair. Beneath it are a few wads of gum of various colors. I nearly gag. Why do people leave this stuff here?! Is it that difficult to stand up, walk to a trash can, and spit it out?! People sure can be disgusting when they think no one's looking.

I begin trying to scrape the stubborn lumps off of the chair. This is so disgusting. I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Why is nothing going right, lately? First the kissing, now the rumors, now this?! Everything just stinks! Including the orangey smell of the window cleaner! Everything! Stupid Fitzgerald and her detention book...

What's the deal with all these rumors, anyway? Who could have possibly seen us...? Irwin's face flits through my mind... Him? It could be him-- but is he really capable of something like that? I'm sure it wasn't Billy. He's so clueless-- and after all, how would he have taken the picture? I'm pretty sure he's too stupid to have arranged some sort of plan. Trisha? Was it that Trisha girl?

A hundred names and faces come to my mind. Who could it have been? Who would have bee walking by right when the big accident occurred? I get to the seventh chair underside, still wracking my brains. Who was it? How much did they see? Who could have--?

My thumb nail punctures the thin tissue and sticks into one of the fresher wads of gum. My shoulders go rigid and a cold shudder trickles down my spinal cord. Fighting down a lurching gag reflex, I wipe my hand off on my skirt and continue scraping the putrid mess off the bottom of the seat. I hate my life.

By the time I get to my lunch hour the next day, I have accumulated five secret boyfriends, flirted with all the male teachers, and broken the heart of my fiancé in Germany, who I pledged to marry after having met him on summer vacation, then abandoned at the last minute and never spoke to again. Poor little Johann. All he ever wanted was true love...

Well, the Germany part isn't so common; only a few of the really stupid girls actually believe it. Still, everything else is the honest truth, as far as Endsville Middle School is concerned. At this rate, I truly could be the Phantom of the Opera by next week.

When I arrive at the table with my tray, I find Irwin, sulkier than ever. We haven't exactly been on speaking terms since yesterday, and so I'm actually surprised that he came to sit with us. He seems to be in the middle of a conversation with Billy.

"That's really interesting, Billy," he says. "Why don't you tell me some more of that story?"

Billy looks confused. "What story? I wasn't talking to you..."

"Don't be silly, yo. You were just telling me-- oh." He looks at me. "Mandy. It's you. Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to listen in on people's conversations?"

"But we weren't..." Billy says.

"Yes we were! And Mandy so rudely started listening to us."

"Still mad about yesterday?" I say.

"Still think I'm a grudge-holding gossip, yo?"

"Well, I can't be too careful," I reply, "but who's making any assumptions? I just like to examine the possibilities."

"I still can't believe you see any possibilities at all, yo!"

"Well, I--"

Flash.

My comeback never leaves my mouth; I'm interrupted by a sudden white light and a mechanical click. I blink, then look up at the girl suddenly standing behind Irwin.

"...Dora?" I say.

She grins. "Hey, there, BFF."

"What do you want?" I say.

She smiles, slipping her silver camera into a khaki tote bag. "A good shot, of course. What else?"

I glare. "If this ends up on the internet, I'm gonna beat you senseless."

She laughs. "Don't be silly. I work for the school paper, don't you know? Let me tell you-- your little story's been causing school-wide pandemonium. Everyone wants to know the truth. So the team and I have started a series of articles just about you called 'The Truth About Mandy'. They're a huge hit. We've got nearly twice as many readers as last week, and sales are skyrocketing!"

My face goes sheet-white. "You mean--"

She pulls a copy of what appears to be yesterday's paper out of her large tote bag, still grinning. I take hold of it. On the front page, in full color, is a six inch by six inch copy of the original, grainy cellphone shot taken of Billy and me. I stare at her. "You mean... did you take the--"

"I have no idea who would have taken it," she says, "but it's working wonders for our newspaper sales. Thanks to you, we might just raise enough money to take that class trip, after all." She laughs, starting to walk away. I sit there, burning with rage. "I gotta thank you, Mandy," she says. "You always were such a good friend."

Still glaring, I crumple the newspaper and fling it at her. She catches it and throws it back.

"Keep it," she calls over her shoulder. "I can afford it, trust me." She leaves me sitting at the table, her brightly-colored skirt swishing at her ankles as she goes.

I return to my lunch, which looks even less appetizing now than it did two minutes ago. This is just great. Now I'm a skank and a janitor-- and it's all being published to the last detail in The Daily Blurb. I push my lunch aside and rest my head down on the sticky table top. I hate my life.

Author's Note: There you have it, people. Chapter ten. I just hate it when people leave gum on the bottoms of things. It seems like we all should have grown out of that habit by now... Sigh. Oh, well. Some of you may be wondering why Dora is still here, even after Mandy trapped her in the lunch box at the end of Pandora's Lunch Box. Well, the way I see it, if Maxwell Atoms was allowed to use her as a background character in later episodes with no explanation whatsoever as to how she got out of the box, I shouldn't have to explain anything, either. See you all in chapter eleven!