Alex was about to say something else when they heard a crying sound. Startled, they spun round to see Carter's little brother in tears.
"What the hell are you snivelling at?" Alex scoffed, demonstarting his compassion.
"Yeah, you sodding baby, what the hell's wrong with you now?" Tod asked. Wow, they'd make really good parents.
"You broke my skateboard!" Carter's brother whinged. (I'd think of a name for the little bugger but I can't be arsed)
"So what? Accidents happen," Tod replied insolently.
"If you don't get me a new one," The little whinging bastard threatened. "I'll, I'll, I'll get my big brother on you and he'll kick your ass."
"Probably," Alex admitted. "But I don't see your brother around here, so I'm just gonna take the risk."
"You're bullies!" the little sod whined.
"D'uh?" Tod answered. "You noticed."
Suddenly, the boy threw back his head and yelled. "CARTER! CARTER! SOME BOYS ARE BEATING ME UP! THEY ARE THROWING SLEDGE HAMMERS AT MY FACE AND FIRING GUNS AT MY LEGS!!!!!!!!!..............OH YEAH, AND THEY ALSO BROKE MY SKATEBOARD AND WON'T BUY ME A NEW ONE!"
There was a few seconds of silence, in which Alex and Tod thought they might have got away with it. But I wouldn't be making this scenario up if that happened would I?
There was the sound of footsteps, and a voice which sounded suspiciously like the class dickhead, (that is not my description actually. It says that in the official script) approaching.
"Right then! Nobody messes with me, or my brother. If you got something to say you can tell it to me, you got that?!"
Carter appeared from round the back of the house. Alex and Tod gulped. Carter's face lit up when he recognised them.
"Oh, it's the freak! And his gay little friend!"
"Er......." Alex struggled to come up with a stupid excuse. He put on an over-the-top french accent. "Bonjour, je mappelle Monsieur........er......Van-Gough. Pleasez vous tell moi where ze clocktower iz?"
"Cut the crap Freak," Carter replied, rolling up his sleeves. "You knocked me out with that brick. I can't let you get away with that!" He paused for a second, as he noticed his brother in tears. "Oh yeah.....and there's that little matter of the skateboard aswell."
Alex and Tod stood frozen to the spot. They had to come up with something. Fast. Tod's eyes slid in the direction of a nearby hosepipe. He smirked as a plan entered his mind.
"Psssssst! Alex," Tod whsipered to his friend. "See that hosepipe over there?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"What are you whispering about you bent bastard!?" Carter yelled in annoyance, but Alex and Tod chose to ignore him.
"When I say, run, okay?"
There was a few seconds of silence as Tod scanned the area. Then......
"RUNNNNNNN!!!!!!"
Alex and Tod ran over to the hosepipe as Carter gave chase. Quick as a flash, Tod snatched up the hosepipe and with the help of Alex switched it to full-blast. Immediately a jet of water blasted out of the hosepipe and straight into Carter, completely soaking him.
"You dickheads!!!" Carter shrieked. "This shirt cost me $99.99!"
Alex and Tod knew they had to escape now. They ran as fast as they could down the street.
Carter didn't know what to do for a moment. He stood absolutely dripping wet on the lawn, feeling himself getting more and more angry. Then he made a decision and ran after them. He wasn't going to let two dorks get away with that.
Tod glanced behind him as they neared a garden wall. He could see Carter gaining on them.
"Quick!!" Tod yelled diving at the wall. He leapt up and grabbed the top of it. Alex scaled it much quicker, and disappeared over the over side.
"Help Alex!" Tod cried, but it was too late. Carter grabbed him and pulled him to the ground.
"Right," Carter announced, seething with rage.
"Ugh, you're all wet!" Tod replied stupidly.
"You bet I am."
Carter had gripped Tod by the arm so he couldn't get away. Suddenly, Alex jumped up from the other side of the wall and dragged Tod over it before Carter had a chance to react.
"Yeah!" Tod yelled slapping him a high five.
"Damn!!" Carter exclaimed from the other side. His brother suddenly appeared next to him.
"So, are they gonna get me a new skateboard or what?"
Carter didn't answer.
"Why are you covered in water?"
"Oh shut up!" Carter yelled knocking his brother to the ground with one hand. Then to himself he added, "Those jerks are gonna pay this time."
It was the next day. Alex and Tod walked to school together, both nervous about what stunts Carter might try to pull on them, but on the other hand, quite looking forward to bragging to their mates. After all, it's not everyday you get to say you soaked Carter Horton with a hosepipe.
Billy was standing by the school gates, fiddling with his baseball cap.
"Yo dudes, wot's up?" he said trying to be cool.
"Oh nothing, nothing," Alex replied smugly.
They walked into school together. Alex and Tod looked around the corridors nervously. They were hoping they wouldn't have to run into Carter by mistake, or else all hell would break lose.
They thought they had got away with it. But basically, we all know they hadn't because the chasing and the people getting hurt is the best part of this pathetic moronic excuse for a story.
As they entered the classroom, they slowly realised it was French. And Carter was in their French class. Mr. Murnau the teacher wasn't there at the moment, because he was dead, so typically, the class were running amok. Paper aeroplanes were flying around the room, with some of the sicker members of the class setting fire to them with their lighters beforehand. Very nice. Not that there was much less of the class anyway. They used to be three separate french classes, now they had been moved into one. The new french teacher was called Monsieur Glasion. He had apparantly been working in a school in England, but he was actually French, so it seemed he was going to be quite an annoying teacher.
Alex couldn't be arsed to sit in his desk, so he sat on it instead. Tod couldn't even be bothered to do that. He just sat in mid-air. The class were noisy and hyperactive. I can't really tell you much about the class cos all the other members are dead, so it would mean I would have to make up a few crap names and that's just too much like hard work. However, I can tell you a bit about the survivors.
Billy was listening to some stupid band on his personal stereo, singing along with in totally out of tune, and Carter and Terry were making out on the teachers desk.
Obviously, the only person not being immature and stupid was Clear. She just sat at the back staring into space. Oh yeah....and occasionally glancing across at Alex wondering how to turn him into her latest art project.
Suddenly, from nowhere, a voice interrupted their fun.
"Ch, ch, ch, ch, ch!" The voice spoke. It was Monsieur Glasion. He entered the room with a pile of books in one arm. He stood over Carter and Terry, demonstrating his new-found authority (whatever that means) and cleared his throat. Smirking arrogantly, Carter took Terry's hand and they sloped off into their desks.
"Bonjour la classe," Monsieur Glasion greeted them. Nobody answered of course, because for one thing, Monsieur Glasion is mind-numbingly boring, and for another, I am stereotyping American Teenagers and trying to make out that they never pay attention in class and the only way to stop them messing around is to, a) shout very loudly or b)do something equally as ridiculous.
Monsieur Glasion opted for 'b'. He fired a pistol into the air. The bullet fired up into the classroom above and probably killed what was left of the English class. Anyway, that shut the class up. Tod glanced across at Carter, who looked back with one of the evilest grins Tod had ever seen.
Tod gulped and shrunk so far down in his desk that the frictional force became less than the gravitational force. In other words, he slipped off his chair and landed on the floor, underneath his desk, with a clatter.
"Monsieur Waggner? Qu'est que c'est?" Monsieur Glasion asked impatiently.
"Je suis......sorry," Tod replied pathetically, sliding on his back out from under the chair.
"Right......." Monsieur Glasion continued in English, not entirely sure what the hell was wrong with this class. "Shall we begin with some 'tres facile' work?"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Carter groaned as loud as he could.
"Is there a problem Monsieur Horton?"
"No, Monsieur Glasion," Carter replied, doing a perfect imitation of the teacher's voice. "It's just that, when you say 'tres facile' you actually mean that it's 'tres facile' for you, and you only. The rest of us don't have a clue what the hell you're talking about. I mean, how would you like it if I gave you some work in Japenese and said 'do this, it's easy?' Then you wouldn't like it would you, I mean, not that I'm Japenese or anything but it's just not on when-."
Ten Hours Later
"You can't just go around demanding for people to do work, when they don't even speak French for a first language, I mean, come on, gimme a frickin break for gods sake's......."
5 hours after that..
"........It's time you realised that people like you can't just expect everything to fall into place and be all apples and pears and-." Carter stopped. He looked around the room. It was empty. The room was in darkness. Carter glanced at his watch. It was 3 am. "Hmm," he said to himself. "School just gets longer every day. I must talk to the PTA about that."
He got out of his seat and walked over to Monsieur Glasion's desk. He picked up a piece of paper and a pencil, and proceeded to write a letter of complaint, which went something like this:
Dear Monsieur Git-Face,
I am writing to say how utterly pissed off I am with the education system. Quite Frankly, it sucks. School now finishes over twelve hours later than what it used to finish at. I am going to play truant until something is done about it, or if that fails, I may write a sitcom about my teddies.
From your fantastic straight 'A' Student,
Carter Horton.