Okay, since last chapter was so incredibly…..what's the word? Out of nowhere. I think that's the right word. Since last chapter was incredibly out of nowhere and surprised my reviewers, I'm going to tone it down a bit in this chapter. Just a bit. The next chapter is going to start the court proceedings and now I'm sure I can squeeze it into two and a half chapters to three. And after that we get to the good part that I've been wanting to write for so long!

The psychologist that was said to come and watch him until the trial looks like Mr. Simmons from Hey Arnold. He was the nicest teacher and he always struck me as a person that would go into child psychology. ;)

Lastly, has anyone here gotten their wisdom teeth pulled? I might have to get mine pulled 'cause I can't reach them with a toothbrush to bush them properly and I need to know what it's like. Do they put you under or use laughing gas or something? I've heard stories of people struggling to eat and close their mouths afterwards and that kind of scares me.

Read On!

"What do you mean he beat up eight kids?"

With the trial scheduled for two weeks and the judge being known for her strict punishments (She's even been called the Judge Judy of Third Street), a good defense was absolutely necessary. That meant working on it right away without hesitation, so the following day after the preliminary trial Mr. Wilson came over to start working. The first thing he asked was if they made sure TJ stayed out of trouble and when he was given the answer it was more than apparent by the expression on his face that he was beginning to get stressed by the situation.

"When we got home he was quiet for a few minutes and then there was a lot of noise coming from outside," Mrs. Detweiler explained. "When we went to see what was going on he was punching another boy. WE pulled him off but then he took off running down the street and ended up at his principal's house."

"Does he know the severity of the situation?" Mr. Wilson asked. "Doesn't he know how important his actions are to this case?"

"We told him how important it was," Said Mr. Detweiler. "But he doesn't listen. We've tried every punishment we could think of but nothings worked. If anything it's making him worse."

"Let's just hope that the prosecution doesn't find out about this," The lawyer groaned. "That's the last thing we need. Let's see, what else…..right, the psychologist is supposed to come over some time in the next hour."

~*~MEANWHILE~*~

TJ was bored. Really, really bored. It was raining outside and since he didn't feel like getting wet for anything his choices were limited. It seemed that lately he wasn't able to do what he really wanted and it irritated him. Right now he felt like practicing his baseball swing, but the rain stopped that from happening. Then again there was plenty of room in the house…

Grabbing his aluminum bat and a bucket of baseballs from the corner he went downstairs into the living room to find that no one was sitting there. Perfect. Standing on the couch he tossed one ball up and swung the bat sending the ball flying, breaking the window. Not stopping to see his parent's response, he continued the acting, breaking anything that was breakable.

"Maybe if the psychologist finds something wrong with him we could use that to our advantage," Mr. Wilson said as he heard the windows breaking. "Maybe it'll be severe enough that we can say that he can't control what he does and can't truly be blamed for the fire. No doubt that if something's found the prosecution is going to say that he should be put away because of it…..have you folks tried to get him some help?" Before that question could be answered the doorbell rang. Opening the door the two parents were met with a 30-something year-old male.

"Hi, my name is Mr. Mack. I'm from The Diamond Ranch Academy," He said. "You all called about someone coming over and seeing if your son was right for the Academy."

"Oh, right," Said Mrs. Detweiler. "With everything going on we must've forgotten. Come in."

"So where is the child?" Mr. Mack asked as he entered the house. The question didn't need to be answered because after a few steps in he saw the reason he was there hitting baseballs while standing on the couch. "This would be him correct?"

"That's right," His mother said, not sure whether or not she should feel embarrassed or angry at her son's behavior. "TJ, this man from the Diamond Ranch Academy came to talk to you."

"I already said I'm not going," He said, not taking his focus off of his swing. "Tell him to leave."

"It'll only be a few minutes," Mr. Mack said. "Then you can uh, get back to you practice."

"God! Fine," T said throwing the bat on the ground and heading up the stairs. "Always gotta do a bunch of shit I doing wanna do…." While the two of them headed up stairs the two parents went back into the kitchen.

"We were planning on sending him to the Diamond Ranch Academy to help him," Mr. Detweiler said. "It's a reform school. But with this case we're not sure that he'll even get a chance to go."

"That's okay. It still shows you trying to change his behavior," Said Mr. Wilson said, writing down a few down. "Perhaps we can bargain with the judge. Instead of juvenile hall he could go there. It's a long shot but it's better than nothing."

"Let's say hypothetically that he's convicted of this. How much time his he facing?"

"That's a good question. They can only keep him in juvenile detention until his 18th birthday so five years at the least. But I'm seen kids serve time in juvie until 18 and then transfer over into jail, so that can happen." Suddenly there was a loud scream followed by crashes and thumps coming from upstairs. The two parents ran upstairs in time to see a now disheveled Mr. Mack run out of their son's room and close the door behind him, pressing his back against it to make sure it doesn't open.

"What happened?" Asked Mrs. Detweiler. "Are you okay?"

"Your son is not welcome at the Academy!" Yelled Mr. Mack. "He will not be attending! Now or ever!"

"But he really needs some help—"

"We cannot help him!" Mr. Mack said, walking away from the door. "You don't need us! You need an exorcist!" With that he stormed out of the house. Wanted to exactly what had happened they went into their son's room to find TJ siting on his bed, tossing a baseball between his hands.

"TJ what did you do?" His father asked him.

"I didn't do anything," He said. "That wasn't even me. That was Alex."

"Who is Alex?"

"A friend of mine," He told them walking out of his room and downstairs. "Where's this shrink that's supposed to follow me around? I have things to do you know!" Sitting on the couch TJ went over the things he had planned to do today. First he had planned to fix that pothole Prickly said he left in his yard. Maybe on the way there he could see the kids he beat up yesterday, or so the adults say. He could really remember that he did that but is he went out and wailed on some kids then he wanted to see the aftermath. He just wanted to get out of the house; it had broken glass everywhere.

The sound of the doorbell brought him out of his thoughts. Walking to the door he heard that his parents had already answered and was talking to whoever it was. Listening in he heard them talking about a psychologist from the court. Thinking that it was the person he had been waiting for all day he made himself seen.

"Is this the shrink?" He asked the three of them.

"That would be me," The man standing in the doorway said. "My name's Mr. Simmons and I'm going to be following you around today."

"You're not gonna try and stop me from doing anything are you?"

"Well no…"

"Good. Come on, I have places to go," He said going out the door.

"Be careful around him," Mrs. Detweiler told Mr. Simmons. "We just had someone come and talk to him and they ran out the door. We don't know what he did."

~*~LATER~*~

Being followed around proved to be much more annoying to TJ than he had anticipated. The overwhelming feeling of being watched wouldn't go away because it wasn't just a feeling; he knew that he was being watched. What was this guy trying to find out anyway? I did help that he was quiet and wasn't much of a disturbance but it still bugged him. Oh well, as long as he didn't bother him too much he should be much of an issue. But turning the corner was going to introduce a minor setback to getting to his destination. Upon turning that fateful corner he ran into his old friends. He could see the large bruise over Gus's left eye and connect the vents of yesterday to that.

"Damn dude," He said. "Somebody fucked you up. Hope you feel better 'cause that looks like it hurts. And don't even blame me 'cause you could've ran. Like Forrest Gump. But no, you had to stay and get fucked up. I don't even remember doing it so don't pin it on me. You might be making it up." Not wanting to hear what they have to say (he was sure it was going to be about how 'bad' of a person he was) he continued on his way with Mr. Simmons following. At least now he knew he beat up Gus, the only question now was who else. There was list of kids at Third Street he would've liked to beat up and wondered if he actually did. It kind of sucked that he couldn't remember. If he did he would spend the whole day reminiscing about it. But that didn't happen and he had to move onto the net thing he wanted to do.

"That's a really big pothole," He said stopping in front of Prickly's house. Right there on the ground was a large spot of dirt sticking out from the entire lawn. "That must've been where the fight was." Looking around he saw that there was large clumps of dirt and topsoil scattered across the lawn. Assuming that it was from the fight as well he started taking the clumps of dirt and filling the pothole with them. Patting it down he found that it filled the pothole perfectly and finished it off by covering it with the topsoil. "That looks good enough. It better be too; my hands are dirty." Standing up, he brushed his hands off and knocked on the front door.

"What is it now, Detweiler?" Prickly asked when he saw who was standing outside of his door. "Isn't ruining my lawn enough for you?"

"I tried to fix it," TJ said. "I really did. It's not like I ignored it. Can we come in?"

"We?"

"Yeah," He said pointing to the psychologist behind him. "He' from the court and has to follow me around for the next two weeks to 'evaluate' me or something. He has to go everywhere I go. He seems nice enough I guess…."

"You know, with all the fighting you did yesterday I find it very had to trust you."

"But I don't even remember it," He said. "I remember pieces of it last night but most if it was a blur. But I promise to try to not do it again in your house. Can I come in?"

"I don't know why I keep letting you in," The Principal said letting him come in.

"'Cause I'm your favorite student, that's why," Said TJ. "So what were you doing before I came here?"

"I was going to do something but now that you're here I think you're more suited for the job."

"And that would be…..?"

"Mowing the backyard."

"No way! How are you going to ask me to mow your backyard? I'm a guest here! That's no fair! I bet it's probably one of those old push mowers just because they cut lower. And then it just rained and the grass is probably high too. I came over here to relax not work!" He ranted. "Where's the mower?" He followed his Principal out into the garage where there was in fact an old push mower. Groaning, he pushed it out into the backyard and grudgingly began to push it around the yard.

"So you're supposed to be evaluating him," Principal Prickly said to the psychologist. "What do you think so far?"

"Who, me?" Mr. Simmons said, snapping out of his thoughts. "Well i only started an hour ago, but I can already see the incredible amount of deviance he's displaying. I barely came into his house and I could see the distress he's causing his parents. But as soon as he came over here the hostility went away almost immediately and that intrigues me. He appears to have taken a shining to you. I can't make any diagnosis after just one day but if can watch him for the next two weeks I'll be able to."

I really like Mr. Simmons. Nice guy, bad judge of character though. I'm going to ask this one more time but I need nicknames! More specifically I need one me. s for a quiet but semi-dangerous boy, a bully that killed someone, a short-haired badass queen bee, and a few others I can't think about now.

RandallXSpinelli: That sure would make sense. I always thought it stopped his horns from growing in :P. Like…..okay here's the whole story I had going on a while ago. And this is going to be long. Since I had him be the antichrist in my first mental fan fiction, I had it that he lived a life before the one he had. Like in his first life he was raised in hell with his father (Satan) where he trained to take over the world. But he got too strong too early so Satan turned him back into a baby and took away his 'demon-like traits' (basically taking his horns, tail, fangs, claws, black hair, red eyes, and evil personality, gave him the hat to keep his horns from growing back in.) and put him on the list of babies to be born and that would be like how he got to where he is now. And then whenever he started puberty those traits would start to come back. Also, if you pay close attention when watching a few episodes he's his most 'evilest' when he doesn't have his hat on. Principal for a Day and Economics of the Playground are perfect examples. As for him have multiple personalities….that'll be discussed next chapter or the one after that. Most likely next chapter 'cause there's a number things I have in mind. Man that was long…

Donna Nnov: Yes, I have figured out what's wrong with him. It's actually a number of things and it'll be talked about in one of the next few chapters, promise. And as for Lawson dishing out some well-deserved punishment, he'll get what's coming to him, promise you that too.

Reviews are highly appreciated!