Disclaimer: You know I don't own it. Why torture me? Why?

Hey Let's Switch Turns

What in the Sam Hill?!

Phoebe always knew when something was wrong. Especially when it concerned Helga. The little Asian girl obediently wrote down her lesson plan, all the while spying her friend's empty seat. The whole class knew something was amiss, but only Phoebe could pinpoint it exactly: it had to do with Arnold.

Her eyes glided gently to the other empty seat in the classroom - a seat that had been occupied that morning by a preoccupied boy who, like Phoebe, watched the door carefully for arrivals. Although quiet, Phoebe was observant, resourceful, and most importantly: smart. She could tell who he was looking for, but she couldn't exactly figure out why. Now, Helga on the other hand.. for Helga to look balefully at the door, awaiting Arnold's entrance - now that she could rationalize.

Because frankly, it was no secret to her why Helga teased Arnold so mercilessly and who "Ice Cream" really was.

So it became a sort of puzzle for her to figure out the past few days. Ever since both kids mysteriously fainted at the same time, their behavior was a little... off. To say the least.

For example, Arnold was more... brutish and short-tempered while Helga was more diplomatic and... dare she say it, friendly. Beyond even by Helga's standards, that is.

Phoebe believed in science, in logic, in intelligence and its procedures - but she couldn't help but initially think that this was temporary, a fluke... It could last a few more days, or even a month, but it couldn't be permanent (she had quieted the nagging in the back of her mind that this was indeed serious, and not just something that would go away). The more time that went by and the more she observed the individual changes in both friends, the more she was convinced that this was going to be a doozy to fix.

It was like somehow, their personalities got stuck in a metamorphical washer, twisting and turning, mixing together in extraordinary chaos. Phoebe knew Helga. Knew her since they went to Kindergarten. If there was anyone on this good green Earth that she could recite the behavior of by heart, it was Helga.

She could tell with more and more certainty that Helga wasn't Helga. But it brought up another question: if Helga wasn't Helga, then who was Helga and where is Helga now?

She sighed quietly. This sort of reasoning was pointless no matter how much it bugged her. Besides, whoever heard of real bodyswitching anyway? This wasn't Freaky Friday.

What Phoebe didn't know was how close she was to discovering the truth, as some otherworldly beings noted.

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"Are you sure this is going to work?" Arnold didn't want to be the Doubting Thomas, but he wasn't quite as confident as Helga that they were going to pull this off.

"Criminey, Football Head, how many times do I have to tell you? If you're right, then this is the way to go."

"I don't know... it just seems so-" he refrained from using the word "hokey". What was a better word? "Dumb?" He inwardly groaned, realizing how it sounded. Maybe "hokey" was a better choice after all.

Helga growled, "Yeah, well, it doesn't hurt to try." Helga wanted to slap herself. Why on Earth was she spouting off Arnold lines?

"Alriiiight," Arnold rolled his eyes, unaware he was giving off a scowl.

The plan was to go to the playground and retrace their steps (so to speak). As they entered the deserted concrete jungle, both were wary of getting caught for ditching class - yet there was a higher anticipation of something happening. A reversal of their disfortunates or maybe a steep trip to even worse territory? They weren't sure even while both carried a false bravado. Helga observed the 'battlefield' while Arnold strode confidently ahead, forgetting that they could be caught at any moment by Principal Wartz.

"Okay. So what exactly happened that day?"

Well, for one, they went to school. So it seemed like the logical place to start there, right on the playground where it happened.

"Well," Arnold started, trying to remember. The details were fuzzy on him for some reason. "I remember you making fun of me." He arched his unibrow. "A lot." Even for Helga.

"Oh, yeah," Helga said and then snickered as she remembered some of her insults. Arnold glared at her, disapproving her humor. She straightened, "What else?"

"Well after you left me alone, I walked around with Gerald. I started thinking about why you would pick on me when you have what I don't. Started thinking your life... was easier than mine."

"Easier?" The word struck a chord in Helga and she remembered she was thinking the exact same thing about Arnold that day too. She looked at Arnold, as if seeing her love for the first time. How could they be so different - yet so similar? The familiarity made her heart ache and she resisted the urge to cite poetry and duck behind a garbage bin.

"Yeah, that's the word. Maybe it was something else. I don't exactly remember anymore." In fact, it was getting harder to remember that moment, as if the memory itself was beginning to be erased. Ridiculous, Arnold thought, and focused at the matter at hand. "What about you?"

"Uhhh..." Helga looked around at the jungle gym and eyed the spot she recited her impromptu poetry to her captive audience of herself and Brainy, and decided it was better to gloss over that little detail lest Arnold get too curious for her taste. "I was around, you know... doing stuff."

"...Liiike?"

"This and that. That and this. You know. The usual."

"Uh huh."

"Yup."

"...You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope."

"Helga-"

"Look, Football Head, you've got your methods and I've got mine."

"But this was your idea!"

"So? Ideas evolve. They change. I can't just put an idea in a box and expect it not to grow!"

"What are you even TALKING about?"

"Something geekbrains like you could never understand, Arnoldo."

"But-"

"We're wasting time. Sooner we get this done, the better. Now..." She looked around, and turned from him. "Maybe we should think exactly the same thing right now."

"How about 'I wish I was myself again'?"

"Doy, Arnold, it has to be exactly what we thought at the same time. We need to be doing the same things that we did that day."

"Then what would you suggest?" Arnold said. He crossed his lanky arms and glared down at his opponent, aware that he was taller than Helga for a change. "...Shorty." He could've backpedaled, could've apologized before it was too late, but he didn't want to. Helga was being bossy, uncooperative, and difficult - the exact opposite of what she needed to be at the moment. And he was fed up with it all.

Feeling strangely at ease with this situation, he wanted to make a statement to Helga: shape up or ship out. The boy knew it was playing with fire, like flashing red to the bull or saying "at least it can't any worse." Well, it just did.

"Excuse me?" This was a first. Helga never once knew Arnold to resort to name-calling, even when they were both alone with no captive audience. Even unprovoked.

"You heard me, Helga." Arnold smirked as he observed the rage slowly migrating up to her face. Bingo, he found a button to push. The wise part of him doubted this was a course, but a newer more mischievious part pursued it, thinking at one point, "I sure look scary when I'm mad."

"I am NOT short."

"Really," Arnold said as he circled around her. "Because you sure look short," he poked her, "and you feel short... even your voice sounds squeakier."

"THAT'S YOUR VOICE, FOOTBALL HEAD."

"Hmmm. It sounds 'shorter' than mine. I must've regressed an inch at least since you got in my body."

That was the last straw that broke the proverbial camel's back.

First her fists shook.

Then her brows furrowed as her mind went into overdrive as she contemplated what sort of death was needed to rectify the situation.

And finally, steam blew out of her ears as she stomped over to him, attempting to grab him. "Why, I outta!" Arnold simply put his hand on her head and held her arm's length as she swiped at him. "I'm going to murder you, Football Head! No one insults Helga G. Pataki and lives to tell about it! No one!"

Arnold yawned with one hand, enjoying this new advantage. "Well, looks like there's a first!" He easily avoided her attempts to grab him and buffed at his nails, trying to look bored. Helga growled and moved away, grabbing his arm and then his dress. She dragged him down to eye level, fingers wringing the life out of his collar. One fist was raised in order to beat the living daylights out of the offender. "Listen, Football Head, you better knock it off or else-"

"Or else what?" He seemed to intensely enjoy this-this... whatever it was.

"Or else..." Helga trailed off as if realizing herself, blinking as she felt his heavy breathing. The hair on her neck rose like it had an agenda as every nerve in her preteen boy body began to blink, whiz, and ring its bells. Unsettled, she couldn't let go of him despite the lessening of her grip. What was happening to her? It was as if her emotions were clashing with her new body, hormones going whacky, blood pressure rising-

She began to blush when she realized just how close she was to him, nose to nose practically, staring into each others' eyes. "I-I'll..." She began to look frantically for an exit, even as Arnold leaned in-

"Just what in the Sam Hill is going on in here?!"

They both turned to see an outraged Mr. Wartz with his hands on his hips.

"Oh, crap," Arnold muttered, as Helga leapt away from him as if he were poison. 'Just when it was getting good, too. Wait, what? What am I saying? This is HELGA.' He shook his head, wondering if he had a few marbles loose.

Wartz was not amused. In fact, Arnold noticed, his eye twitched in a similar way that Big Bob's did - and he shivered at the haunting resemblance. "My office. Now."

To Be Continued!

Gaaaahhh! What's going to happen NOOOOOW?

Okay, you had to admit this chapter WAS funnier than the last two. Looks like I'm getting the ole feel back!

I'm happy that people are reading again, even if they're not reviewing in large numbers. It's fine, as long as I'm getting a little feedback somewhere that I'm not totally screwing up the story! Which reminds me: thanks to all those who reviewed in the past few update cycles. Your reviews made me laugh and reminded me people still like this story and which direction it's going.

Hellerick mentioned a while back that this story is celebrated its 8 year anniversary this past week. Wow, I can't believe it's been eight years since I've started this fanfic (when I was 13!) I sure came a long ways. I'm very happy to any of the original readers that were with me, and I hope to see you at the end (which SPOILER: is only twenty or thirty SHORT chapters away probably...)

(Brainy "Noooooooo...")

Mwahahaha. Yes, dear readers - it's going to be over soon! This is the last year that you will be waiting for updates! The joy! The sadness! The Expectations!

Also: I will no longer be writing author's notes. Please refer to my live-journal. The link is on my profile.

Anyway, please review. Or not. Just keep reading!

-BG