School's a funny thing. It teaches you all kinds of crap you'll never actually use (Johnny couldn't remember the last time knowing about Mendell and peas came in handy), but fails to teach you things you will use. Johnny had never filed taxes because he was a kid, but he knew from watching Mom and Dad that it was a nightmare. Johnny didn't own a car, but he imagined that once he did, he'd eventually find himself with a flat tire. Would calculus or E=mc2 help him in that sitch? No, but a class on car maintenance totally would. Johnny was young, but he wasn't exactly dumb, and he already knew that there are so many things about life that you have to figure out on your own. It was like that time when he was three and Dad tossed him into Lake Michigan in an attempt to teach him how to swim. Little Johnny had no idea what he was doing, and sank like a stone. Dad had to jump in and fish him out before he drowned.

Such, Johnny reckoned, was adult life. You were cast out of your home at eighteen with no life skills and had to flounder your way around. You were constantly in over your head and your lungs were always filled with water. You either sank...or you learned to swim. Your dad couldn't, and wouldn't, always bail you out, so brother, you better start swimming.

In Lansing, the state capital of Michigan, someone eventually got their heads out of their own butts and realized this. In early 2021, a directive came down from the governor for schools to "include real-world subjects" in their curriculum to "prepare the next generation of Michiganers to compete in a changing and global marketplace." Johnny had no idea what that meant, but he was all the way behind "real-world subjects" being taught in schools. He wanted to know how to file for health insurance, how to nail a job interview, and what he had to do in order to secure a line of credit. This stuff was needed.

By April, the new curriculum was beginning to take effect. A new list of mandatory classes was mailed to all students of Royal County public schools. Johnny and Lincoln's came in on a Saturday and Johnny ripped open the envelope with shaking excitement. Oh boy, what kind of classes were they going to get? Tax Prep 101? Advanced Vehicle Economics? How The Stock Market Works?

When he saw the classes they actually got, his jaw hit the floor.

Diversity and Inclusion 101.

A Feminist Critque of Science and Biology.

How to Cancel Racists and Sexists on Twitter.

When Freedom of Speech Goes Too Far: The Art and Necessity of Censorship.

Climate Change and Recycling: Have a Heart, Do Your Part.

Check Your Privilege I: Overcome Your Toxic Whiteness

Check Your Privilege II: Overcome Your Toxic Masculinity.

Uh...where's Tax Prep 101? He didn't see Tax Prep 101. It has to be on here somewhere. He turned the letter over in his hands but it was nowhere to be found. Are you being for real right now? They stacked the deck with this social stuff but skipped taxes, advanced civics, money math, and how to kill an interview and get the job of your dreams?

LAME.

It seemed like someone was more concerned with pushing a social and political agenda than they were with preparing kids to compete in the global marketplace, but ok. Johnny would show up, do his work, and forget everything he learned at the end of the year like he did with all the other subjects he didn't care about.

On Monday, each student was assigned to one of the classes. Lincoln got put in the white boy class (LOL) and when he tried to argue that his father was black, they straight up told him "You look white, that's all that matters." Hahaha. Have fun being told how much you suck as a human being for 60 minutes every day, Stinkcoln. Johnny, meanwhile, crash landed in the green class. That first day, the teacher clued them into the joys and wonders of recycling. When she got to the part about a new law compelling recycling companies to pay people to recycle, Johnny's hand shot up. "Yo, what?"

"That's right," she said, "if you bring your own recycling to the center, they will pay you one dollar and fifty cents per pound."

A light bulb went off over Johnny's head and a sinister smile crept across his face. He tented his fingers together. "Excellent."

In the cafeteria, Johnny sat with his lunch group. You know the drill: Stella the smart Asian, Liam the straight country redneck, and Sid, who was also Asian but not quite as academically gifted (sorry, Sid).'Lincoln was there too, noming on a Lunchable, and Johny was - well, you know that. Anyway, Johnny slammed a Chocolate Cherry Cola and let out a loud belch. "I know a way we can make some money."

Lincoln's ears perked up.

If there was one thing the brothers Velazquest could agree on, it was their love of money. Lincoln liked some of the same music as Johnny, and Johnny vibed to a few of Lincoln's favorite horror movies (okay, maybe more than a few), but they were their own people with their own complex and deep-seated personalities. Johnny was the cool one. Lincoln was the dork. Those were immutable facts no matter which way you sliced it. Johnny liked cool things, like cat videos, Freddy Got Fingered, and Monster. Lincoln liked dull things, like Maggie, Freddy Krueger, and Redbull. They fought, bickered, and disagreed more than an old married couple...that happened to be both interracial and racist against each other (make my food, white deviless. Make it yourself, blacko). Johnny didn't know how that would work, but hey, the world was a strange place and stranger things had happened - like Bush and Clinton becoming bffs once they were both out of power.

Anyway, they didn't see eye to eye on much, but they did on two key things. One: Wrestling sucked. Two: Money ruled. Lincoln and Johnny had been cooking up harebrained schemes to draw money for years and every time either one of them hatched a new one, the other was right there to see what was good.

"What?" Lincoln asked.

Stella, Sid, and Liam looked at them, and Johnny hesitated. He didn't think they'd move in on his and Lincoln's operation or anything - after all, anyone could bring recycling in and get paid - but he needed them to not know what he was up to. That way, he and Lincoln could get hold of their recycling. "I'll tell you later."

Later came when Lincoln and Johnny were walking home. "What's that idea you had?" Lincoln asked.

For a second, Johnny had no clue what Lincoln was talking about, then it came back to him like a fist to the nose. "Oh, right. Check it out. If we bring recycling to the recycling center downtown, they'll pay us."

"How much?"

"A buck fifty a pound."

Lincoln looked at him funny, then waved his hand. "Those are punk wages."

"Right," Johnny said, "but if we can get everyone we know to start recycling, we can take it downtown for them and make mad money."

Now that got Lincoln's attention. Johnny looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them and then lowered his voice. "We'll act like we're having a heart and doing our part, but we'll really have a scheme and be living our dream."

They were at the end of Franklin Avenue. Their house was ahead on the left. Across the street, the peaked roof of the Loud house poked out from behind Mr. Grouse's place like the masthead of a mighty ship at sea. "And I know just the place to hit."

Before they went after the motherlode, they started at home. At dinner, Johnny cooked up a lie about the teacher assigning the class an "impact-reduction" challenge. "If we decrease our impact on the environment by 20 percent, we'll get a lifetime supply of Starbucks coffee."

Mom took notice. As a typical white woman (and Johnny said that with all the love and respect in the world), Mom was a Starbucks feen. During fall, she drank at least three of those nasty pumpkin spice things every day, and in the summer, she switched to ice coffee that tasted strangely like bananas. Johnny hated those the worst, but honesty, Starbucks' entire menu was trash. "Jason, I think the boys are onto something," she said. "I mean...the environment is important. We only have one." She smiled nervously and played with her hair, something they only did when she wasn't being honest.

"Environmental protection is for sissies," Dad said in his gruff manly-man voice.

Lincoln and Johnny exchanged a worried look. If Dad wasn't down with recycling, it wouldn't happen.

"If we reduce it by fifty," Lincoln said, grasping for something, anything, "they'll bring Randy Savage back to life and let you meet him."

Like a shot, Dad was on his feet. "We're going off the grid," he said.

Ten minutes later, the power was out and everyone was falling all over each other as they tried to make their way through the darkened living room. "How about we just go partially off the grid?" Mom asked.

"Good idea," Dad said.

Partially off the grid meant this: No lights (only candles); one hour of video games a day; a shower every other day to conserve water; and no paper bags for Johnny's head. When he and Lincoln were alone, Lincoln glared at him. "One hour of video games a day?"

Johnny sighed. That cut him deeply as well. "I know, but it's only for a little while, okay? Once we get everything set up with the Louds and Stella and Sid, we'll tell Mom and Dad we lost and everything will go back to normal."

"It better," Lincoln said.

Being a prideful guy, Johnny's first reaction was to pull up, but he stopped himself. He'd been watching a lot of 1090 Jake videos on YouTube and was feeling extra gangsta. He wasn't about that life, though, and he wasn't trying to get stuck in county, so he took a deep breath. "It will. Just give it a week."

The next day, Saturday, they went over to Ronnie Anne's place to get her onboard. "I don't care about climate change," Ronnie Anne said and crossed her arms. They were standing in front of the door to her apartment, Ronnie Anne blocking the way like she was afraid they would try to force their way in and steal something.

"Do you care about polar bears?" Johnny asked.

Ronnie Anne opened her mouth, but before she could answer one way or the other, Johnny whipped out a picture of a bunch of dead polar bears and shoved it in her face. "Climate change caused this, Ronnie," he said, a hint of accusation in his voice, like she personally murdered them. "And you know what not recycling gets you?" He pulled out another picture, this one of a cute baby penguin with its neck stuck in a plastic ring like the kind that holds soda cans.

It wasn't moving.

"Oh my God," Ronnie Anne muttered and pressed her hand to her mouth. She stared at the picture with wide, haunted eyes and Johnny grinned. Got'cha.

"All you have to do is recycle," Lincoln said in a pleading tone, "that's it. We'll even come by once a week and take your recycling downtown for you. We just...want to do our part. Don't you?"

Ronnie Anne looked away from the picture. Unless Johnny was mistaken, those were tears in her eyes. "Okay. Fine."

Cha-ching.

Next, they hit up Stella. "We already recycle," Stella said. Again, they stood outside the front door because Stella's mom was basically an Asian female version of Mr. Clean and didn't want anyone coming inside lest they track dirt across her floor or something. "We have a bin for paper, a bin for plastic, and a bin for aluminium."

"Awesome," Johnny said, "we can take care of them for you."

"No thank you," Stella said, "we have curbside pick up."

"It's no trouble at all," Lincoln said. "Really, we'd be happy to."

"I don't think my mom would like that," Stella said, "but thanks anyway."

Darn, the first setback of their new venture. Oh well, they'd just come by on trash day and raid her bins anyway.

On their way back home, they called on both Sid and Liam. Sid bought the whole penguin/polar bear routine hook, line, and sinker, but Liam was a little more difficult. "Why, we don't throw nothin' out," the hick said, "we reuse everything."

"Even toilet paper?" Lincoln asked.

Liam's brows lowered and he parked his hands on his hips. "Y'all don't gotta go gettin' smart now. Of course we don't reuse that. We reuse darn near everything else, though. Y'all city folk are the ones makin' a mess. We don't do that on the farm."

"You should start recycling stuff, dude," Johnny said, "it'll -"

"I don't need no newfangled recyclin'," Liam said, "now go on, get. I done got me some cows to milk."

Sheesh, okay.

Leaving Liam to it, Johnny and Lincoln walked home through the warm afternoon, stopping at Flip's right quick for a cold Flipeez and a penny candy. Flip stood behind the counter and glowered at them as they filled their cups. "You steal from me and I will come out there."

Johnny believed him. Flip was old and fat but from what Johnny had heard, he was a Vietnam vet and came back home with paranoid schizophrenia or something. Johnny had never seen Flip act out of line, but he stepped real lightly around him just in case.

Drinks in hand, Johnny and Lincoln paid and walked the rest of the way to Franklin, but instead of going to their house, they went to 1216. Lori answered on the sixth knock. "Hey," Johnny said, "we need to talk to you."

Lori raised her brow. "About what?"

"Can we come in?" Lincoln asked.

They met upstairs in Lori and Leni's room, where sibling meetings were normally held. The Loud girls had something of a protocol amongst themselves. If two or more of them had a problem, they convened a sisters' meeting and the others would arbitrate, serving as judge, jury, and executioner. Last month, Lana accidentally broke one of Lola's pageant trophies and they started beefing. Lola rightfully wanted Lana to fix it since Lana could, Lana didn't want to, saying it was Lola's fault. They went before the family tribunal and Lana was eventually found guilty and sentenced to fixing Lola's trophy. Lana did it without protest because going against the Sister Court never went well.

Anyway, all of the Loud girls shoved up on Lori and Leni's beds. Johnny strutted over and gave the younger ones a sly, sexy look. Lily clapped her hands, Lola swooned, Lana barked, Lisa fanned herself, Lucy almost smiled, and Lynn blushed, but quickly got control of herself and fronted like she didn't care. All of the Louds from Lily to Lynn liked Johnny. Sometimes he accepted that, and other times it mad creeped him out. Regardless, when he needed somethin from them, he always had that trump card up his sleeve. All he had to do was wiggle butt and bat his eyelashes, and they'd be putty in his hands.

Clearing his throat, he went into his spiel. Blah blah blah environment this blah blah blah so important that. He whipped up a few fake tears and injected as much passion into his voice as he could. "We're headed toward a climate apocalypse and it scares me. I-I just want to live my life. Is that so bad? I just want to enjoy my childhood, but Donald Trump and the gas lobby have violated it. How dare they? How dare they?"

The younger sisters swallowed it all. The older ones were a little more skeptical. Lori crossed her arms. "Okay, Greta Thunberg."

"This is serious, Lori!" Lola snapped. "Can't you see Johnny's crying?"

"I concur with Lola," Lisa said. "Scientific data does bear out what he is saying and we really should reduce our impact on the environment."

"I'm not asking for much," Johnny said, "just recycle. We'll take care of getting it to where it needs to go. All you have to do is throw it in a bin. Is that really so hard?"

Lori sighed.

Alright, time to bring out the big guns.

Reaching into his jacket, Johnny pulled out the picture of the baby penguin and held it up. Lola choked, Lucy said, "Gasp,"and Lisa was shook. "Dear God."

Even Lori seemed affected: Her eyes widened in horror, then she quickly whipped her head away. "All this little baby penguin wanted was to live its life. Just like you. Just like me. Now he's dead because some inconsiderate jerk didn't recycle. Do you want to be that jerk?"

"Okay," Lori said and threw up her hand, "we'll do it."

Cha-ching.


Johnny didn't expect to make a lot of money from what he and Lincoln came to call The Recycling Racket, but he figured on twenty bucks a week give or take.

He was wroooong.

Do you know how hard it is to hit that magical one pound threshold when you're dealing with empty soup cans, plastic Coke bottles, and cardboard? So hard. On the Friday afternoon following the start of operations, they wheeled seven bins to the collection center, an old concrete building on Harper Street that once housed a canning factory. They couldn't get them all at once, so they had to make multiple trips. When you bring a recycling bin in, you have to take it around to the loading dock where they weigh it twice on a big scale, once empty, once full. They deduct the weight of the bin and whatever's left over is what you get paid. Those seven bins brought Lincoln and Johnny a net total of five dollars and fifteen cents. Johnny gaped down at the money in his palm, sure that there was some mistake. "That's it?"

The man who operated the scale wiped his hands on the front of his jumpsuit. "Don't spend it all in one place."

Johnny sighed.

As they walked away, Lincoln shot him a dirty look. "I gave up video games and talking to Maggie for five bucks."

"I know it looks bad, but we're just starting. Give it some time."

Next week, they made all of seven bucks.

"Dude," Lincoln hissed later on, "this is BS. We're stopping right now."

No, they weren't, because Johnny had an idea. They went to the Loud house and gathered all of the sisters in Lori's room, "You guys are killing it," Johnny opened, "I'm really proud of all of you. Buuuuut...we have to do more."

Lori's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean more?"

"Well," Johnny sighed and looked at Lincoln, "we're doing what we're supposed to, but a lot of people in Royal Woods aren't. There are bottles, soda rings, and all kinds of stuff all over the place. We have to go out there and get it. For the good of Mother Nature."

As expected, the younger sisters were down with it. "You want us to, like, pick up trash?" Leni asked. She crossed her eyes, stuck out her tongue, and shuddered.

"I'm literally too busy to run all over creation picking up other people's garbage," Lori said and folded her arms defiantly. "I'm willing to -"

Johnny held up the picture of the baby penguin and she looked away. "Fine! Okay! But I'm not picking up anything nasty."

"Don't worry," Lana grinned, "I got you covered."

Saturday, the Loud girls spread out through Royal Woods with trash bags. Johnny got ahold of some reflective orange vests and heavy duty work gloves because he knew Lori and Leni would both trip about getting their hands dirty. To keep up appearances, Johnny went with Lori, Leni, and Lana, and Lincoln went with Lisa, Lola, and Lucy. Lily stayed home and Lynn, Luan, and Luna teamed up to hit the park. The biggest haul of the day came at Flip's, where the dumpster was overflowing with recyclables. Jeez, old Flip didn't give a frick about the environment, did he? Lana climbed in and tossed cans, papers, and bottles into a bag, and Lori crinkled her nose at the stench of hot garbage. "This is so disgusting," she said.

"I know," Lana replied from the dumpster, voice echoing off its metal walls, "isn't it awesome?"

"Uh, no," Lori said.

Leni waved her hand. "Oh, it's not that -" she perked up and looked around, eyes wide. She spotted something and gasped. "Squirrel!"

Tongue hanging out like an excitable dog, she bounded off and gave chase. Lori opened her mouth to call out, but visibly lost the will and just shook her head.

It was a long, hard day but at the end of it, they had at least ten pounds of recycling.

Cha-freaking-ching.

"We need more," Johnny said.

They gave their spiel to Ronnie Anne, Stella, Liam, and Sid. They showed them pictures of dead and dying animals and shamed them for wanting "the slaughter to continue." By the end of the week, they had fourteen people canvasing the town for recycling. Johnny even instructed Liam and Stella to raid other people's recycling bins "that way we know it's going to the right place, and not back into our community."

Johnny was excited to see how much bank he and Lincoln would pull in this week, but he was also worried about getting all the recycling to the center. They had bags and bags and bags.

It was going to be tough but they would manage.

"Just one big haul," Johnny promised, "then we'll quit."

Friday after school, they spent three hours bringing all the various bins, barrels, and bags to the collection center. The man behind the counter raised his eyebrow as another man weighed all of the trash. "You boys been busy."

"We sure have, sir," Lincoln said.

"Recycling is our passion," Johnny added.

The man calculated their payoff. "Alright, that comes to fifty-eight fifty-three."

58.53? Johnny was hoping for more, but whatever. He and Lincoln could split it fifty-fifty and put the remainder in their joint piggybank. "Thank you, my good man," Johnny said and took the money. They turned around and froze.

Liam, Stella, Sid, Ronnie Anne, and the Loud girls blocked the alleyway, their faces hard and their hands balled.

Uh-oh.

"It was Lincoln's idea," Johnny blurted.

"Mine? You brought it to me!"

Lori stomped forward and Lincoln and Johnny both cringed. She was a gamer and not very big for a seventeen year old girl, but she could throw those hands, and when she hit you, it felt like a prison stabbing. "Please don't hurt us!" Johnny wept.

"We're sorry," Lincoln sobbed.

"You guys are dirtbags," Lori said. "You pretended to care about the environment just so we'd do your dirty work while you made a profit."

The collection center workers all gathered around, one grinning through a mouthful of popcorn and another filming on his iPhone.

"It's true," Johnny cried, "we're scum. Human waste. Excrement of the lowest order."

"Spineless jellyfish," Lincoln said.

Instead of whooping them, Lori snatched the money from Johnny's hand. "Gimme that," she hissed. She counted it and divided it. "This is ours now."

"Please," Johnny quaked, "not our -"

"Shut up, liar," Lori said. She passed the money out and then shot a dirty look at Lincoln and Johnny. "You two chodes are on your own."

The others voiced their agreement, then walked away. Johnny's knees went weak and he collapsed to the ground. "Our money," he moaned.

Lincoln sighed. "At least we can go back to living a normal life."

But the joke was on them because Mom and Dad had really gotten into conserving energy and recycling, and it took Lincoln and Johnny months to get them off it.

THE END.