AN: Being the lazy bastard that I am, I decided that there could only be one fitting way to introduce Robert Simmons and his husband Peter as they make their new home in the bizzaro-world that is Thicket Valley, Montana and thus, enter the social sphere of Arnie and his classmates. If you've read "Principal Simmons II: The Kids (of Thicket Valley) Aren't Alright" this chapter will be familiar to you.
I did mention "Principal Simmons II" overlapped with that one so if you're familiar with the previous fic, there will be instances of repetition from here on in. If you aren't, I hope/highly recommend reading that one as well.
With that out of the way, enjoy.
HumanDictionary.
MEANWHILE IN THE CITY OF HILLWOOD, WASHINGTON
He gave teaching sixth grade his best try, truly he did. But little by little, the trauma of that summer's adventures in San Lorenzo began to get the better of the upbeat and unflappable Robert Simmons. His painfully liberal use of the word special seemed to disappear, his patience for shenanigans (particularly those from Harold, Sid and Stinky) had shattered irreparably, and something as innocuous as a break of silence during role call was guaranteed to trigger a histrionic fit. The children under his tutelage knew that their summer trip was emotionally jarring and were willing to accept that this change of character was part of Mr. Simmons' personal readjusting process. But as Christmas break came and went, they had no choice but to come to make peace with the fact that that the tightly-would, short-fused, and volatile character occupying their teacher's body was here to stay for the long run .
(Early January)
"AW! Not even the first day back and I'm already in detention after school!" Harold whined as he, Sid and Stinky sat down to eat lunch.
"Here's a bright idea Pink Boy!" Helga snapped from a table over. "Maybe when Mr. Simmons is doing roll call, you could actually pay attention and not stuff your pie hole with leftover holiday num-nums!"
"But that was my last Mr. Fudgy's Ho Ho Holiday Hazelnut bar. Hazelnut filling, wafers, and a rich layer of nougat… I really wanted to savor it."
"Yeah well, in preoccupying what little brain cells you possess between your ears to that damn candy bar, you seemed to have forgotten that Mr. Simmons has kind of become a paranoid shell of himself and a little bit touchy about losing his class after our little adventure in San Lor-"
Arnold's hand suddenly clamped down on Helga's shoulder. Before she could lash out at her secret significant other, he pointed to the general direction of the cafeteria doors two feet away from them. The two tables dared not make a peep as their teacher passed through the lunchroom with all the solemnity of a funeral procession. After thumbing through the array of artificial sweeteners, Mr. Simmons grabbed a fistful of pink packets before turning around and exiting back through the doors. Though he exited, the chill that accompanied him lingered.
"Willikers."Stinky gasped.
"Mm. mm. mm." Gerald clucked while Phoebe gave a shake of his head.
"Exactly my point." Helga continued. "And by the way; who said you could touch me Football Head?"
As if all that weren't enough, Robert's home life fared no better upon returning. Vivid dreams lead to sleepless nights which in turn lead to a constant state of antagonism and hostility. For his husband Peter, something as innocuous as Robert's sandwiches not having enough watercress or any last-minute change of plans bought about nasty meltdowns.
(February 13th)
Peter hung up the phone then looked at his husband as he buried his face in the morning paper and guzzled coffee. Robert had spent the night trying to forget the nightmare; one which while repetitious, only seemed to increase in vivacity since the school year began after his return to the states. Against every fiber of his body, Peter took a large gulp and prepared to break the news to his husband.
"Rob? Honey?"
"Yes?"
"Remember that guy Joy bought over on Thanksgiving?"
"Oh please, how could anyone in a ten-block radius forget Mr. Wonderful?" Robert said snipingly as he folded up the paper. "Rising star at Helpers for Humanity. Volunteer fireman. Vehement loather of football and ardent lover of puppies, scented candles, apple picking, and the works of Siegfried Sassoon."
"Yeah. Apparently, Mr. Wonderful decided to give Joy the ol' heave ho, in order to save some money this Valentine's Day."
"HA! Good luck to the poor sap having to mop up that mess tomorrow."
"Yeah…" Peter began slowly. "About that…"
The mustachioed man didn't have to go any further with that train of thought. Robert's demeanor shifted on a dime as he mentally put together who would play Joy's ersatz boyfriend that night.
"Dammit Pete!" Mr. Simmons snapped. "Couldn't you tell her we had tickets to Carmen since Octob-"
"I couldn't get a word in edgewise." Peter replied defensively. "Now she's deluded herself into thinking I'm her honorary plus-1 for a Galentine's Day dinner at Chez Pierre. Then there was the scene she was throwing over the phone-"
Peter could see his poor choice of words floating in midair and entering his husband's ear. The wheels in Robert's head spun, whirred and clicked in a fury.
"Oh, a scene? Peter?"
Mr. Simmons suddenly hurled his mug across the kitchen. It barely brushed the edges of Peter's hair before crashing into the wall and shattering upon impact. Before he could tell Robert to calm down, the irate educator suddenly grabbed a stack of plates.
"WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS?! *crash* AND THAT?! *crash* IF A SCENE IS WHAT IT TAKES FOR THAT OVERCOOKED STRAND OF SPAGHETTI THAT PASSES FOR YOUR SPINE TO CHANGE YOUR PLANS WILLY-NILLY WELL THEN (laughs with rage) YOU HAVEN'T SEEN SQUAT!"
Peter could feel his internal organs to clench as the remaining stack of plates plummeted to the floor and splintered upon collision into the tile. After Robert exited the house amidst an unworldly roar and fit of profanity, the blonde male simply swept up the dishes and poured himself a cup of tea.
Robert ultimately apologized for his outburst later that day, knowing that Joy was a hot mess when it came to recouping her losses from a break-up, and called Dr. Bliss for a referral for a good psychiatrist afterwards. Therapy seemed to help and traces of the old Mr. Simmons seemed to be seeping back...for a while.
Naturally, Curly had to be the one to spoil it all.
(April Fools Day)
"You are playing with so much fire…"
Arnold's plea went in and out of the perturbed preteen's ears as his clothes sailed over the bathroom stall.
"Oh Arnold, you hopeless little do-gooder." He chuckled. "If only you had a leg to stand on in this particular matter. For I seem to recall an April Fools Day of yore when you and a certain lady engaged in a battle of wits. How did that end again? Please tell me."
"Cur…" Arnold began as his four-eyed peer leered at him from over the cubicle with mock inquisitiveness. "Ok, you're right. What happened between Helga and I that year got incredibly out of hand. And yes, I had a dark moment when I learned she had been playing me like a fiddle. But…this is just needlessly cruel. We all suffered in San Lorenzo."
But the poor twisted freak only continued to scat 'Ride of the Valkyries', to which Arnold simply sighed in resignation and shook his head to his friends as they marched into class in dread. Which was a shame considering how Mr. Simmons seemed so much like his old self that morning.
"Good morning class, settle down." He said happily. "Before we can embark on another special day of learning, I have to take roll call…(he grabs the clipboard from his desk)…I see Arnold is here, that's a check. Brainy?"
"Present." Came a wheeze from the rear of the room.
"Wonderful, wonderful. Curly?"
Apprehension strangles the class like a giant hand around their collective throats. The children could only sit and exchange nervous glances as they brace themselves for whatever was to come from the now clammy educator.
"He's sick!" Helga suddenly piped. "Just saw him this morning: puking, fever, coughing, whole nine yards Mr. Simmons. I'll take his homework after class today!"
"Oh!" Robert sighs in relief. "That's very noble of you Miss Pataki."
Mr. Simmons continued reading through the list, but five names later, Helga's lies proved themselves to be in vain; the door violently swung open and with a Tarzan yell, Thaddeus Gammelthorpe bolted through the rooms beating his chest. Tiger patterned body paint adorned his body, nude save for a grass skirt akin to the one he donned during their previous summer's adventure in San Lorenzo. His bowl cut hair had been tied up in a ponytail with a spork (in lieu of a bone) and he continued his animalistic display of jumping, howling, scampering, dry-humping the air and throwing around sandwich bags of chocolate pudding hidden underneath his skirt. For the final act, he vaulted across the class and landed dramatically atop Rhonda's desk with a wild laugh.
"ME TARZAN! YOU HOT!" He shouted before planting a kiss on the disgusted dame's lips.
The term 'loss for words' gets thrown around a lot. But in spite of some semblance of order being restored and Curly facing a world of punishment for his actions, A colorless and jumpy Mr. Simmons was pulled from under his desk bawling with abandon. Pure gibberish mixed with wails of unfathomable sorrow flowed from his mouth as Peter and Principal Wartz helped him out of the building. With no teacher immediately available to fill in for him, Mr. Simmons' class was dismissed for the day.
"…Oh, just give me the phone."
By 3:30, the time that should have been their dismissal, an email was sent to all the parents and guardians. As usual, Miles surrendered his phone to the wrinkly hands of his octogenarian father. He and Stella tried their best to get the hang of the technological advances that occurred while struck with the sleeping sickness, but some days were better than others. After continuing to rib his son for not being 'with it', Phil called Arnold over and read the correspondence aloud.
"'Dear parents/guardian. As you may know, our beloved teacher Robert Simmons abruptly announced his retirement and plans to move to Thicket Valley, Montana. Your child's new teacher as of tomorrow will be Julia Skelter. Signed David Millhouse Wartz, PS 118 Principal.'"
Arnold's cheeks reddened slightly at the thought of seeing the one-time object of his schoolboy infatuations again, but any lingering mortification came to an abrupt halt as Stella suddenly piped up.
"Thicket Valley, you don't mean-"
"Yep." Grandpa said flatly. "The little wierdo's home town."
(Present Day)
Robert and Peter Simmons sat on the porch of their new home as the moving crew hauled the last of their boxes into the foyer. While the bald man in the sweater-vest looked upon the sunset with high hopes for this new chapter in their lives, his husband wore a face of deep skepticism mingled with disgust.
Peter liked culture; opera, art museums, wine tastings, Swiss Cinema, and other such cosmopolitan trappings a town like Thicket Valley failed to offer. But his dismissive attitude towards the new roof over their head went beyond living a life straight out of Green Acres; Montana and the people therein didn't exactly smile upon the idea of same sex couples. Thoughts of his childhood came back en masse as he gazed at the last of the sunset, and later at his husband who took him away from all that.
"Goodnight my sweet prince." He said kissing Robert on the forehead.
"Pete." He replied with sorrow. "I know these last few months weren't pleasant. And I know what you're thinking in moving here. I just want to thank you for being supportive for all this."
Peter smiled.
"I hope you get what you need from here. For everyone's sake."
