Episode 35—Jason Cracks
It was movie night for the occupants of number 3113 of Wimbleton Apartments. It was Freddy's turn to select which movie that they would watch—or at least he claimed that it was his turn, but usually he lied about that sort of thing. Of course his video selection was a certain film entitled, Freddy vs. Jason. He shoved it in Jason's face and laughed obnoxiously, saying, "Ha! Now we can watch me beat your ass in HD!"
Jason just rolled his eyes. Can you please choose something else?
Freddy's response to this was to open the box, throw the movie into the DVD player, and plop onto the couch. He glanced over at Michael and said, "Now you can see your boyfriend get his stupid ass kicked!"
He's not my boyfriend!
Ghostface just sighed. "Can we please just shut up and watch the stupid movie?"
Jason glared the screen and crossed his arms over his chest. This isn't fair. Next time I choose the damn movie.
Thruout the whole movie whenever Jason took a hit, Freddy would yell, "Yeah, fuck that bitch! Ha!" and everyone would jump and glare over at him. By the end of the movie, as Jason got his fingers cut off, Ghostface had more questions than anything else.
As the credits began to roll he turned to Jason and asked, "Okay, so that part where he kicked you in the nuts, wh-"
He did not kick me in the nuts!
"Well why'd you just stand there? Don't you have any?"
Yes—I mean no...it's none of your damn business! Why do you care what I have?
"I'm just curious!"
"Ha! Did all of you see that? Okay, look-" Freddy jumped on top of the couch and pointed at Jason with one of his razored claws. "I kicked his ass!"
You did not! Michael thought angrily, He totally kicked your ass!
"Shut up, prick!"
No, because you're wrong! Jason totally-
Jason thought with a tired sigh, Myers, just let it go. You'll never win. Besides, I don't care. It was obvious that I-
"Rematch!" Freddy interrupted, jumping over the couch and punching Jason in the face.
Jason was shocked by this; he blinked and thought, What the hell was that?
"I want a rematch." Freddy declared, slashing at the bigger killer with his claws. In a moment Ghostface had joined in on this as well, but not because he actually wanted to fight the other killer. In fact, it was just because he wanted more attention from Michael. Myers, seeing that the only person who understood him was getting punched in the face, just sat there with an empty expression in his eyes.
Okay, so who won the fight? Michael thought at last, scratching his head.
Me! I won, okay? I won, I won, I won, I-
"It was me! Obviously I won, because I never lose!" Freddy exclaimed, slapping Jason in the face; the other killer reeled back and glared at him.
Will you please quit that?
"Not until I get a rematch!"
Well you're not getting one tonight. It's almost eleven, and if Michael doesn't get enough sleep, then he gets pissy. Myers- he glanced over at the other silent killer and motioned to the bathroom—go brush your teeth then get into bed.
But-
Do it.
He sighed and nodded. Fine. He got up and went into the bathroom. As Freddy and Jason continued their argument, Ghostface tried to sneak into the bathroom with Michael, but thankfully he was caught. Jason latched onto Ghostface's sleeve and pulled him back towards the couch.
Don't even think about it. Go to bed.
Ghostface let out a roar of anger and punched Jason in the stomach; when the other killer didn't flinch, this only made him angrier. "Would you just stop telling people what to do? Damn, you act like we're your kids or something!"
Jason thought, Maybe if you didn't act like kids, then I wouldn't have to treat you like—ow, Freddy, stop slapping me in the face! He thought angrily, pushing the smaller killer away. Then, from inside the bathroom, there came a horrifying yell. Jason looked up just in time to see Michael frantically running over to him, his eyes wide. What's wrong, Mike?
The bathroom—there's a spider in the bathroom!
Are you serious?
Yeah, a huge one!
"Ha ha! Myers is afraid of spiders!" Freddy joked, stabbing at Michael with his claws; he flinched away. Jason gripped his head and looked down. He was too tired for this—his head was beginning to ache and Ghostface was yelling, 'Rematch!' in his ear.
Okay, fine! Everyone just SHUT UP! When everyone did manage to become silent Jason got to his feet and thought out calmly, Here's how it's going to work—Mike, you're going to calmly show me where the spider is, I'm going to kill it, then you're going to finish brushing your teeth and go to bed. Kruger, you're going to stop teasing people, and by the time I kill that spider, I expect to see you in bed. Ghostface, same goes for you. Does everyone understand?
"I'm gonna fill your dreams up with spiders, you girly-boy!" Freddy hissed at Michael. Jason glared at him and punched him in the back.
Quit it! Mike, let's go.
He went with Michael into the bathroom and did as he'd promised. Of course by the time that he got out of the bathroom, Ghostface and Freddy were fighting again. Jason broke them up and then made sure that they got to sleep. After it was all said and done, Jason was the last killer to get to sleep, and he knew that he'd be the first one to wake up. That's always how it was. In the beginning he'd accepted his role as mediator, but now it was wearing on his sanity and health. He never abandoned his reason, though; it's what set him apart from the other mindless killers. He never lost his cool too badly, and when he did he always managed to put things back together...
Or at least he thought that's how things worked.
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"Jaaaassssoooon, where's breakfast?"
"Rematch, rematch!"
Jason, I can't find my shampoo!
"Jason, we're out of syrup!"
"I said rematch you stupid, retarded asshole!"
Jason, Ghostface just touched me again!
Jason, Jason, Jason. The hulking killer ran around the apartment as usual, fulfilling everyone's ridiculous needs. He found Michael's shampoo, gave Ghostface a new bottle of syrup to put on the pancakes that he himself had made, and he even had enough time to serve as Freddy's punching bag. In the end he sat eating what was left of his breakfast—Ghostface always ate out of his plate when he wasn't looking—holding his head in his hands. Even the sitting arrangements at the table had been thought up by him; Michael sat to his right, Ghostface to his left, and Freddy across from him to prevent any squabbles. Today, however, not even this was helping him.
Freddy kept jumping up and smacking Jason in the face proclaiming, "Rematch!"
Jason was too exhausted to defend himself. He just sat there taking the brunt of the hits, blood streaming out of his hockey mask. Michael finally couldn't stand it anymore. He thought angrily, Will you just quit?
"Shut up! Rematch-" he slapped Jason again, "-rematch!"
"Yeah, rematch!" Ghostface said, laughing. He got up and punched Jason out of his chair. The hulking killer let out a tired sigh and got up. He took what remained of his food and threw it away. Michael stared after him as he walked out of the apartment.
Where are you going?
Out.
Can I-
No, I want to be alone.
Oh. Okay. Bye, Jason.
Yeah, whatever. And he left the room, slamming the door after him. Once he was gone, Freddy threw his plate of food to the ground and spat on it.
"Stupid fucker got blood on my pancakes."
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By the time that Jason returned to the apartment, everything had fallen apart. As soon as he walked into the room Ghostface tackled him. "Jason, you've got to do something!"
What now? I've only been gone for fifteen minutes!
"The girly-boy forgot to take his meds." Freddy said, motioning to Michael, who was lying on the floor. Jason's eyes grew wide; he hurried over to Myers' side and shook him roughly.
Mike? Hey, are you okay? When no answer came, he turned to the other two slashers and demanded, What the hell is wrong with you two? You couldn't make sure that he took his medicine?
Ghostface shrugged and Freddy just let out an unconcerned, "Meh."
Jason rolled his eyes, picked Michael up into his arms, and haphazardly threw him onto the couch, right on top of Freddy's feet. "Hey, retard, what the fuck are you-"
Shut the fuck up! Jason thought as he went into the kitchen and found the medicine cabinet. He fixed Michael's medicine and made sure that he took it. After about two hours, Myers was back to his old self, only a lot more paranoid. Apparently being late on his meds had made him a little more crazy, and every time someone walked near him he'd freak out and try to bite them. Jason solved this by pulling him aside and giving him a strict talking to.
Myers, listen—ow! He pulled away as Michael sank his teeth into his arm. Stop biting people!
Leave me alone! All of you just leave me alone!
Great, Jason thought, pressing a hand to his forehead, we broke him.
Just as he thought this, Freddy walked up behind him and punched him in the back of the head. For a while Jason blacked out, but when he came to everyone was yelling at him. Jason, Jason, Jason. The killer couldn't take it anymore. He closed his eyes and thought desperately, PLEASE, WILL EVERYONE LEAVE ME ALONE?
"But the who the fuck is supposed to pay my cell phone bill?" Ghostface demanded, shoving his phone in Jason's face. The other killer shrugged cluelessly. His head was killing him. Couldn't he have one minute to himself?
You make enough money. Why don't you pay it off?
"Because I'm asking you for a favor, asshole. Damn, I thought you'd at least do me one single favor!"
Fine, fine! Here. He dug a bit of money out of his pocket and gave it to Ghostface. There, pay your bill.
He walked away without saying thank you. Michael came looking for help after that. For the moment he seemed to have regained his old sense and he was actually acting like a halfway functional person. Jason, he thought, trying to be sensitive to his friend's feelings, can I ask you something?
Go ahead. He thought, rising to his feet. If you don't, someone else will.
Michael looked ashamed as he thought shyly, I have a problem...
What is it? Tell me already!
Freddy ate my cookie.
Jason sighed and went over to Freddy. He punched him to get his attention, then motioned over to Michael. Hey, douchebag, you owe Myers a cookie, alright?
Freddy openly laughed at this. He pushed Jason back roughly and spat, "That bitch owed me a cookie!"he looked over to Michael and jeered, "So you couldn't even stand up to me yourself? You had to get this big retard to do it?"
Don't talk to him in that tone, Freddy. Jason held out his hand, I want you to give Michael something in return for eating his cookie.
"Ha! I'll give you something alright! Here!" he lashed out and kicked Jason squarely between the legs. The bigger killer let out a sick grunt and fell to the ground, his eyes watering. Ghostface saw this and frowned under his mask.
"Huh. So I guess that he does have nuts after all."
Oh God...why would you do that?
"Because you stuck up for that little bitch over there!" Freddy howled, pointing at a very distressed looking Michael.
S-So what? Owwwwww...Jason punched the floor of the apartment, trying to forget about the pain.
"You always stick up for him, even when he does something wrong!" Ghostface insisted. "We're sick of it!"
Okay, fine, I'm sorry. You're right, I'll try to be more fair...ah...Jason tried to get up, but found that he just couldn't. He laid down on the ground and began crying. Why the hell did you kick me in the nuts? Oh God...why?
Michael watched all of this and something inside of his brain seemed to snap. He glanced at Ghostface, the cause of many of his woes, and jumped on him. Although this excited the other killer at first, he soon realized that he was in trouble. "Ow—Myers, so kinky...wait, what are you—stop!" Michael pushed up his mask to reveal his mouth, leaned down, and bit a huge chunk out of the other killer's shoulder. Ghostface screeched, "What the hell is wrong with you? Get off!" he tried to get the bigger killer off of him, but this only earned him more bites. "Freddy, help!"
Freddy was busy laughing. "Fuck that shit, you deserve it! Kill him, Myers!"
Michael glared over at Kruger and licked the blood from his rarely exposed lips. He went to jump on Freddy, but Jason caught him and hauled him outside onto the balcony. Mike, what the hell is wrong with you? Michael said nothing, but tried to bite at his neck. Jason flinched back and thought, Sorry about this...he punched the other killer squarely in the head. Michael became limp and fell to the ground.
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As it turned out, Michael couldn't be left unsupervised. He was having a psychotic break down due to months of accumulated stress. Jason Googled the phenomena only to discover that this sort of thing could now be expected to happen every few months, give or take, depending on how much poor Michael was subjected to. The website that he checked, however, offered no solutions or ways to calm the raging serial killer. He sighed and then, seeing no other way, went and stayed with Michael for the remainder of his breakdown. The others locked him outside and proceeded to trash the apartment; Jason could care less about that as he tried to stop Michael from biting his throat open, though.
It's funny, he thought, though he knew the other killer was beyond the point of hearing him, but when I do break down, I don't try and eat people. I actually just cry.
I'll kill you all! Michael thought, scratching at the door of the balcony. Kill you, kill you! He let out a roar and flung himself against the glass doors, trying to break thru them. Jason just pulled him back and against the railings of the balcony, a concerned look in his dark eyes.
Now Michael, stop flinging yourself around like that. You might hurt yourse-
I'LL RIP YOUR THRAOT OUT!
Yeah, yeah.
This continued on and on, so his night was spent tirelessly punching Michael in the fact in an attempt to bring him back to reality. Eventually Jason lost all hope and just let the other killer stab him until he was dizzy due to loss of blood. Morning eventually came and that brought Ghostface outside. He grabbed a dozing Jason by his jacket and punched him in the face. Jason recoiled and pressed a hand to his hockey mask.
Ow! I just fell asleep! What the hell is wrong with you?
"That's what's wrong!" Ghostface said, indicating Michael, who had fallen asleep with his head on Jason's shoulder. The other killer shrugged.
Yeah, he was tired and fell asleep, so what?
"On your shoulder? I feel so betrayed." Ghostface said, pretending to cry. Jason narrowed his dark eyes at him and pushed Michael off of his shoulder.
There, he's not touching me. Happy now?
"It doesn't take away the pain." he said dramatically, falling into Jason's lap. The bigger killer shied away from him.
What the hell is wrong with you? First you punch me, now-
"Hey, Voorhees, I call rematch!" Freddy exclaimed as he jumped out onto the balcony and stabbed Jason's throat. The killer pushed him away, gasping for air and bleeding. This only made Kruger laugh harder and slash at him some more; this ended in Jason losing three fingers. He sighed and looked down at his now incomplete hand.
I'm going to have to stitch those back on. As he tried to get up, his leg popped and the stitching that held his calf together split. Crap. I'll get that—as he bent down to pick up the scraps of his leg, his hand fell off, its stitching rotten. He sighed. Since he was mostly sewed together, every once in a while he had to take the time to fix himself. He hadn't done this in months, even though he knew that he should. Now he stood there, holding a bunch of his body parts and trying to protect Michael from Ghostface, all as he battled with Freddy.
At last he managed to get everyone calmed down and inside. Michael, he thought, limping over to the medicine cabinet, you need to take your meds, alright?
Gotcha.
Can I trust you to—you know what? Never mind, I'll just do it myself. He knew damn well that he couldn't trust Michael to take his own medicine, so he dug in the cabinet and found the stuff. He supervised Myers then went over to find himself some thread and a needle. Once that was done he sat on the floor and got to work. All the while everyone else watched him with mixtures of awe and disgust.
As Jason jabbed the thick needle into the skin and tissue of his calf, Ghostface couldn't help but ask, "So, doesn't that hurt?"
He shrugged. A little, but after a while I get used to it.
Freddy got an idea. He snatched Jason's foot away from him and began throwing it up into the air. Since Jason hadn't been wearing shoes, the gray, rotten skin was exposed, along with the black toenails. Voorhees glared over at him and held out his hand. Give it back.
"Not on your life. Fuckface, catch!" he threw the foot at Ghostface's mask. The killer caught it and flinched back.
"Gross, it smells!"
It does not! Jason protested, roughly stabbing the needle into his skin. Now give it ba—hey! As he went to retrieve the foot, Ghostface threw it over to Michael, who let out a startled gasp and caught it.
Ew, ew! Gross! Ew, Jason's foot is all over me! He wiped his hands off on his clothes before letting Jason reclaim his stolen body part. The serial killer sighed tiredly.
You guys, I really don't have the patience for your games, so just turn on the t.v. and try to behave while I sew myself up, alright? They all grumbled and moodily watched t.v. as Jason hurriedly pieced himself together again.
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That night as the four settled down for supper, Jason felt utterly dead inside. He stared emptily at his pizza and willed himself to stay awake. He was exhausted. After a day of supervising Michael, disciplining Ghostface, and fighting off Freddy, he was totally drained. The only thing that he was looking forward to was a good night of sleep, which is why he gave his food to Myers. Michael gave him a curious look and frowned under his mask.
You're not hungry?
No, just exhausted. He thought back, yawning.
Exhausted? What does that mean?
"It means that he's a little pansy." Freddy explained as he took a large sip of beer. Ghostface snickered and poked at Jason's temple with his finger.
"Hey, loser, are you even awake? Hey, idiot? Jaaaaaaaasssssssssooonnn?"
What? He thought, banging his fists down on the table. What the hell do you want, Fuckface?
There was a moment of silence before he was asked, "Get me another beer?"
It was then that something inside of Jason snapped. He pushed Ghostface away from him as hard as he could, sent him yelling onto the hard floor of the kitchen. He jumped up from his chair and flipped over the table, spilling pizza sauce on Freddy's sweater and beer all over Michael's lap. Everyone stared angrily at him. All Jason could think was, Yeah, sure Fuckface, I'll get you another god damn beer! Why? So that you can get drunk, molest Michael, and then get in a fight with Freddy and leave bloodstains on the carpet! Oh, and that won't even be half of it! No, because with you guys, it's never simple; Myers might forget to take his fucking medicine and he'll nearly stab me to death, or Freddy might get mad at me and jump me when I'm trying to clean up a mess that he made! Well you know what? I've HAD IT! You can all just go to hell, because I'm done!
When he was done with his speech he stood there, panting, his hands curled into fists, his eyes wide with hatred and anger that he'd long buried inside of him. Ghostface, who had managed to get up off the floor, was the first one who spoke. "Oh yeah, and by the way, I'm gonna need to borrow a few hundred dollars to pay off my phone bill...again. Sorry. I'll pay you back."
Jason went over to him, grabbed him by his scrawny throat, and threw him across the room. Freddy saw how serious the situation was and rose up slowly from his chair. "Okay, Voorhees, I know you're mad but listen—I don't care. All I want is-" he leapt over the table and wrapped his arms around Jason's neck, trying to cut off his air supply. "-REMATCH!" Jason reached behind him, grabbed Freddy's sweater, and threw him away. This made Kruger turn red with embarrassment and declare once more, "Rematch!"
No! Voorhees thought as Freddy ran over to him, slashing with his claws madly, No more damn rematches! No more medications, beer, pizza, or babysitting...no more anything! He punched Freddy in his face, knocking him out totally. Once that was done, he turned back to Michael, perhaps his only remaining friend, and thought apologetically, Sorry...I guess that I just snapped.
It's okay, he thought gently, you're right, all of that stuff isn't really important. You know what is important, though?
Huh?
My birthday, which is today.
Jason's eyes grew wide as he struggled to think, Y-Your birthday? Today...it's today?
Yep, Michael nodded and happily got out of his seat. And I know you didn't forget.
I...Mike, I...he turned away, utterly ashamed with himself. Myers' excitement melted into a kind of horrible disbelief.
Jason, you didn't forget my birthday, did you? Jason didn't have to say anything. Michael wasn't that stupid, after all. He knew what that silence meant and in a moment he had turned and stormed out of the apartment. Jason stood there for a second staring down at his shoes until he couldn't take it anymore. He hurried after the other slasher thinking, Wait! I'm sorry!
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Michael, stop acting like spoiled kid and-
Shut up!
Look, I-
I hate you! Leave me alone! Michael thought as he stormed down the hall, pushing Jason away from him. I can't believe that you couldn't even remember one day, just one! God, you really are retarded.
For some reason this really struck Jason the wrong way. Alright, that's it. Come here, you stupid little bitch! He latched onto Micheal's wrist and threw him onto the ground roughly. He got out his machete and pressed it to the younger killer's neck. I don't give a damn how mad you get at me, don't ever say that!
Then don't forget my birthday!
That's not fair! Jason insisted, shaking his head.
Well I don't think it's fair that my best friend forgets my birthday.
We're not best friends! We barley even know each other!
I don't want to know you! Michael retorted. You're big, and stupid, and you always treat me like a kid...I'm not as dumb as you think! I can take care of myself.
You people expect me to know every single thing! You, Freddy, Ghostface—why do you all come to me to fix things, to think up ways to solve your damn problems? You have brains, use them! Why do you guys always expect me to bail you out of trouble? He backed away from Michael and dropped his machete. He fell onto his knees and punched a hole in the wall next to him. Myers' eyes filled with concern. He got up and went over to Jason.
I wasn't serious. I'm sorry, okay? Now quit...I dunno...quit crying.
I-I'm not crying! Jason thought, moodily. I hate this...I'm so busy having to fix everyone's problems that I don't even remember your birthday! And you're the best person in the whole apartment...
I am? This perked Michael up a little. Jason nodded.
Why the hell do you think that I always make sure that I'm the one babysitting your stupid ass? You think I do it for fun? I could just let Freddy or Ghostface watch you, but the fact is that I don't mind you...that much.
Michael contemplated the other killer's thoughts then finally responded with, I won't ever ask you for anything again, I swear. I don't even care about my birthday, really. When I was a kid I never celebrated it, so it's no big deal.
Yes it is.
No, it's really not...even though you're kind of a bad friend, now c'mon. Let's go.
Together they walked back to the room. What they saw when the arrived was enough to make Jason tear up again. The whole place was in shambles—there was blood staining the floor and the walls, and there was pizza sauce everywhere. Freddy and Ghostface were busy arguing about something stupid, but when they saw Jason they stopped. Kruger gave the bigger killer and wily smile and motioned to the apartment.
"We had a little argument, so you should get your stupid ass in gear and clean it up."
Wh...what? Jason shook his head in disbelief. The place is ruined...I just cleaned it a few days ago and now-
"Less complaining, more cleaning." Ghostface chipped in as he went over Myers and pulled him close. "You don't have to waste your time cleaning."
I don't?
He shook his head. "Nope, because you get to hang out with us—mainly me." he hugged a resentful Michael close to him, ignoring the fact that he was trying to squirm away.
This time it was Jason who ran out of the apartment. Without hesitation Myers chased his friend down the hall, grabbing at his tattered jacket and trying to get his attention. Wait, stop! Please! I have something to say—I mean think!
And I don't care, Myers. Jason thought, angrily pushing him away. Because this whole time I thought that maybe we might've become...fr...frien...forget it, because apparently you're just like Kruger and Ghostface.
No I'm not! I really am you're frie...well, you're my...my...
Forget it. You couldn't say it back there and you sure as hell can't say it now. Leave me alone! Jason tugged his jacket out of Michael's grasp and proceeded to storm on down the hall. Just as he turned to leave, though, something amazing happened.
JASON, YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND!
Huh? He immediately stopped walking and turned to see Michael sitting in the middle of the hall, sobbing. He rolled his eyes and went over to him, gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Mike, you don't have to lie. Lying isn't good.
You're my best friend ever, Jason Voorhees! Michael sobbed, trying to hide the tears that were slipping down his mask. And I wouldn't be able to do anything if you left.
Okay, that's enough. Get up. Jason helped a shaky, crying Michael to his feet and patted his shoulder. He wasn't sure if he believed the other killer—serial killers were infamous liars, after all—but the odds that Michael would openly admit to caring for another person were already slim at best. For him to lie about it was equally as unlikely. Jason finally decided what he had to do. He pulled Michael into a quick hug then thought, If you're lying about this, I swear I'll kill you.
Still Michael continued to cry like a child. He thought, sniffling and sobbing, Jason, I love you!
Jason stood there, his eyes darting up and down the hall, making sure that nobody would sneak up on them and see this disgusting display of emotion. He awkwardly patted Michael's back and thought, trying to get him the hell away, Yeah, yeah, alright. You've made your point, okay?
A-Are you going to leave? Voorhees thought for a moment, and this only made Michael even sadder. Jason, he thought in an uncharacteristically serious way, I'll learn how to be smart if it means that you'll stay.
Myers-
No, really. You won't have to watch me so much. I'll teach myself math, and I'll learn how to read gooder, and-
'Gooder' isn't a word.
Michael continued as if Jason hadn't thought at all. If it means that you'll stay, I'll do anything you want, because I...well...I need you.
They both stood there for a long moment. At last Jason nodded. He knew what he had to do. Michael, whether or not you educate yourself shouldn't depend on me.
But-
And you know that I'm not patient, so when I'm teaching you and I start to get frustrated, just let me have a second, okay? Don't do that annoying thing where you keep asking, 'Hey, Jason, what's this mean? Hey Jason?'
Michael's eyes grew wide. He reached up and placed his hands on the taller killer's shoulders, and shook him in a violent fit of happiness, So that means that you're staying?
Well you're not exactly fit to live on your own, and if I left that's what you'd be doing. Jason thought coolly, shrugging out of Myers' grasp. He turned and began walking back in the direction of their room, his friend following close behind. Oh yeah, and what was that crap about 'needing me'?
Michael looked away and shrugged, clearly ashamed of his behavior. I meant that I needed you as a friend. God, don't be so full of yourself. You're not that great.
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The two walked back into the apartment together and things quickly returned to normal. Freddy still picked on Jason every chance he got—this included stabbing him, killing him in his dreams, and dumping ice on him when he was in the shower—and Ghostface continued to try and eliminate him in hopes of replacing him as Myers' best friend. Michael, however, had found a new respect for Jason, and every morning beginning at nine, the two would sit at the small kitchen table with books, pencils, and paper. Over the next few months Michael learned effectively nothing, because although Jason was a fair teacher, he was just too dumb, and every time he'd begin to grasp a basic concept he'd forget it again by the next day.
In fact, the educating only seemed to make Michael's life worse in terms of how everyone else treated him in the apartment. Freddy would regularly make jokes about him and Ghostface would flirt with him even more. "It's okay that you're not smart, Myers," he would say, "because there can only really be one smart person in a relationship, and that smart person just happens to be me."
One day, however, something changed. As Jason hauled himself into his chair and wrote down an easy math problem, something clicked inside of Michael's brain. Here, he thought, handing Myers the problem, try this.
Okay. He thought, tiredly reading over the paper. He picked up a pencil, tapped it on the wooden table nervously. 2...
Plus.
...right, right. So, 2+2=...
Take your time. Jason thought patiently, picking at his blackened, rotting nails. Michael stared at the problem for a long while before sighing.
I can't do this. It's too hard.
If you give up, I swear to God...
I'm sorry!
Jason sighed in frustration and snatched the paper away. It was one thing when Michael at least attempted the problem and got it wrong—at least he tried. He couldn't stand it when he didn't even put his pencil down on the paper. Over by the t.v. Freddy let out a laugh and called over, "Ha! Told you he wouldn't learn anything, Voorhees. He's incapable of learning, he's too stupid!"
Shut your damn mouth, Kruger! Jason thought dangerously. He's just-
It equals 'x'. Michael thought suddenly. Jason glanced over at him, a curious look on his face.
Mike, we're doing math now, not English. Math doesn't have...wait a minute! An idea struck Jason. He wrote down on the paper below the other problem, 2x=6. He then handed the paper back to his friend and thought, indicating the new equation, Just try it. If you can't do it, then-
Michael had taken the paper and was already busily writing things down. In a moment he was passing the problem back to Jason. He read it over and his eyes grew wide. X=3...Michael, how did you figure this out?
It's easy because numbers and letters don't go together, he thought, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I can understand it because it doesn't make any sense.
Jason hurriedly wrote down another three more problems. Michael solved these in an instant. He gave him more complicated ones, ones that he himself barley knew how to solve. As it turned out, the only kind of smart thing that Myers knew how to do was complex algebra. Jason tried to teach him more advanced math like trigonometry and geometry, but they always ended up doing more algebra. Well, he thought at the end of the day, at least I taught you something, even though you sort of knew how to do it all along.
You're a good teacher, Jason.
Yeah, whatever.
They both settled for beer and pizza. Ghostface now watched Michael with a new respect. "Wow...so you actually know something?"
Yep, I guess so.
"I can't even do algebra."
Get Jason to teach yo-
NO. He interrupted, shaking his head. Ghostface sighed.
"This sucks. Now Michael might not be the dumbest one out of all of us now. Thanks, Voorhees."
Me? What did I do?
"You were the one who taught him the shit, and now he thinks that he's better than everyone else." Freddy said, swearing. Michael shook his head at this.
I don't think I'm better than-
"Shut the fuck up and eat your pizza." Freddy hissed. Myers complied.
Not many things changed after that. Michael did a little algebra every day, and he also discovered that he had a profound fondness of Shakespeare and his various sonnets. To everyone's surprise, within a day he could quote Sir Shakespeare's first seventy-five sonnets. He could also say word-for-word the to be, or not to be soliloquy. This he did all by himself. Other than that, he was still the biggest idiot in the apartment. That will never change. He still can't add 2+2 nor can he spell his own name without help. Then again, perhaps it's better that way—he always gives Jason something to work on.
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