As You Like It- Chapter 6
Friendship
Hey guys! Thanks for (finally) reviewing my story. I'm glad you like it, and I'm gonna try and write faster for those of you who are impatient. And, if you want to be nice to me, check out my other three Hey Arnold fics, and review those too. Onwards!
To: KarateMAster245
From: AttItudeProbLem956
Subject: Help!
Hey Pheebs! Thanks SOOO much for helping me out here. You are seriously a better friend than anyone could ask for. Anyway, here's my address, and a plan to meet up. Thanks a mil!
-Helga
169 Rosewood Boulevard. Go down the main highway until you get to Exit 67. Take a right on Lower City Avenue, then keep going until you hit Torach Road. You'll come into the main part of the city, and take Washington Avenue until you come to Rosewood. Then just look for my house.
Actually, don't use those directions just yet. Meet me in the library of Groves High School. I'll be there.
Phoebe read the e-mail. The next morning, she hopped in her car, picked up Arnold, and they drove to the school. Phoebe parked the car, and they walked up to the school.
"Arnold, I have to go meet Helga in the library. Just go to class."
"Oh, ok then. Bye."
"Bye." Arnold walked down the almost empty hallway, wondering what to do. He didn't blame Phoebe for helping Helga. They were best friends, and Helga needed Phoebe more than Arnold needed her. Besides, Arnold was in love with Helga. He couldn't deprive her of anything, even for his own well being. He started walking around the halls, thinking of Helga. Suddenly, he had an urge to write a poem about her, so he did.
Your eyes,
The gateway to my heart,
The key to eternal passion,
Oh, dearest Helga,
Where are you?
I long for you
I call for you and yet
You are not by my side
I cry out in darkness
Groping for your hand
And I am stuck in this reality
Forever waiting for you
And your love.
And as if destiny was playing a game, with Arnold as its player, he walked by the newspaper room, a sign on the door,
Wanted!
Poets and writers for this week's edition of the Groves Weekly! Drop
Your contribution in the box by the door! Thanks!
Without thinking, Arnold ripped out the poem, and signed it, Hopeless Heart.
Phoebe walked into the library, looking around for her best friend, but did not see her. The library was empty, except for a couple of sophomore guys looking at inappropriate things on the internet, a grouchy looking librarian, and a senior girl with brown short hair. Phoebe sat down at a table, waiting for Helga. The brunette whispered loudly,
"Phoebe!" Phoebe looked over at her.
"How do you know- Helga?" Phoebe recognized the expression on the girls face, a mixture of "Doi, who else," and "Thank god."
"Phoebe!" Helga ran over and gave Phoebe a hug. She hung on to Phoebe as if she were a life raft. Phoebe realized that Helga was crying.
"Helga? Are you okay?"
"I'm so happy that you're here. If only..."
"If only what?"
"If only I had had the courage to confess my love to Arnold that night."
"I know Helga. But who knows. There might be such a thing called fate or destiny."
"But what cruel reason could it have to torment me so?!" Phoebe wished she could spare her friend this agony by telling her of Arnolds love, but she new it wasn't meant to happen like that.
"So, Phoebe, how long can you stay? Like an hour? I can call you in sick, and we can go out to lunch maybe."
"No need Helga. I did switch schools" Helga looked at her friend in shock.
"When I said that, I didn't mean, Oh Phoebe!"
"Hey, I need you as much as you need me. Who else is going tell me to get my nose out of the books and have some fun? Huh?"
"Thanks you. Thank you so much!"
"What are friends for?"
"Hey Phoebe?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember, you have to call me Haley when other people are around. The FBI thinks that someone might be trying to get to us."
"Oh, okay."
Little did they know that someone was around. And someone was trying to get them. A big guy that had been behind the bookshelves pulled out his cell phone.
"Boss? It's me Little Tim."
"And?"
"The little Pataki has a friend helping her out."
"So? That doesn't change anything. One week from now, we're putting her out of sight. For good."
"Uh, right boss. Okay. Sorry."
* * * * *
The next day, Helga and Phoebe were looking at the school newspaper.
"Um, Helga?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you see the poetry column yet?"
"No, why."
"Well, you might want to read the one by Hopeless Heart."
"Okay. Let me see it." She flipped to the last page, where the poems were.
"Don't you think it's weird that someone used your real name?"
"Yeah, really weird. Cause Will, you haven't met him, doesn't know my name. And no one here even talks to me besides him."
"Helga, I have a confession to make."
"What is it?"
"I saw Arnold here." Helga's knees suddenly weak.
"Arnold? My Arnold?"
"Yeah."
"Here? I can't even do anything! And he wrote that beautiful poem! For me?!"
"I guess so Helga."
"Oh cruel world! To love and be loved, and yet be denied! Temptation is great!"
* * *
Okay people, I'm keeping my promise! Here's some real dialogue from the play "As You Like It".
Character info:
Rosalind: Main character. Put into exile. Loves Orlando. Cousin/ friend Celia goes with her. Is disguised as a guy.
Celia: Rosalind's cousin/best friend. Follows Rosalind to forest. Helps get her and Orlando together.
Orlando: Loves Rosalind. Has also been banished from the kingdom. Writes Rosalind poems and puts them on trees in the forest. Doesn't know that Rosalind is in the forest.
Enter CELIA, with a writing
ROSALIND
Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside.
CELIA
[Reads]
Why should this a desert be?
For it is unpeopled? No:
Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
That shall civil sayings show:
Some, how brief the life of man
Runs his erring pilgrimage,
That the stretching of a span
Buckles in his sum of age;
Some, of violated vows
'Twixt the souls of friend and friend:
But upon the fairest boughs,
Or at every sentence end,
Will I Rosalinda write,
Teaching all that read to know
The quintessence of every sprite
Heaven would in little show.
Therefore Heaven Nature charged
That one body should be fill'd
With all graces wide-enlarged:
Nature presently distill'd
Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
Cleopatra's majesty,
Atalanta's better part,
Sad Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devised,
Of many faces, eyes and hearts,
To have the touches dearest prized.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
And I to live and die her slave.
ROSALIND
O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love
have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never
cried 'Have patience, good people!'
CELIA
Didst thou hear these verses?
ROSALIND
O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of
them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
CELIA
That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses.
ROSALIND
Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear
themselves without the verse and therefore stood
lamely in the verse.
CELIA
But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name
should be hanged and carved upon these trees?
ROSALIND
I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder
before you came; for look here what I found on a
palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since
Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I
can hardly remember.
CELIA
Trow you who hath done this?
ROSALIND
Is it a man?
CELIA
And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck.
Change you colour?
ROSALIND
I prithee, who?
CELIA
O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to
meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes
and so encounter.
ROSALIND
Nay, but who is it?
CELIA
Is it possible?
ROSALIND
Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence,
tell me who it is.
CELIA
O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful
wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that,
out of all hooping!
ROSALIND
Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in
my disposition? One inch of delay more is a
South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it
quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst
stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man
out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-
mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at
all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that
may drink thy tidings.
CELIA
So you may put a man in your belly.
ROSALIND
Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his
head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?
CELIA
Nay, he hath but a little beard.
ROSALIND
Why, God will send more, if the man will be
thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if
thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
CELIA
It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
heels and your heart both in an instant.
ROSALIND
Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and
true maid.
CELIA
I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
ROSALIND
Orlando?
CELIA
Orlando.
Okay. I know its hard to read, but if you read the whole play( which I have posted on fanfiction under Shakespeare) it would make more sense. Its really good. I promise.
*I also know that its been a long time since I've put up a chapter, but I've been working my butt off writing things for you. And one more thing, REVIEW! I know I'm obsessive, but its not surprising considering the fact that I have obsessive compulsive disorder.
Until next time, this is BlackNotebook, signing out.
Friendship
Hey guys! Thanks for (finally) reviewing my story. I'm glad you like it, and I'm gonna try and write faster for those of you who are impatient. And, if you want to be nice to me, check out my other three Hey Arnold fics, and review those too. Onwards!
To: KarateMAster245
From: AttItudeProbLem956
Subject: Help!
Hey Pheebs! Thanks SOOO much for helping me out here. You are seriously a better friend than anyone could ask for. Anyway, here's my address, and a plan to meet up. Thanks a mil!
-Helga
169 Rosewood Boulevard. Go down the main highway until you get to Exit 67. Take a right on Lower City Avenue, then keep going until you hit Torach Road. You'll come into the main part of the city, and take Washington Avenue until you come to Rosewood. Then just look for my house.
Actually, don't use those directions just yet. Meet me in the library of Groves High School. I'll be there.
Phoebe read the e-mail. The next morning, she hopped in her car, picked up Arnold, and they drove to the school. Phoebe parked the car, and they walked up to the school.
"Arnold, I have to go meet Helga in the library. Just go to class."
"Oh, ok then. Bye."
"Bye." Arnold walked down the almost empty hallway, wondering what to do. He didn't blame Phoebe for helping Helga. They were best friends, and Helga needed Phoebe more than Arnold needed her. Besides, Arnold was in love with Helga. He couldn't deprive her of anything, even for his own well being. He started walking around the halls, thinking of Helga. Suddenly, he had an urge to write a poem about her, so he did.
Your eyes,
The gateway to my heart,
The key to eternal passion,
Oh, dearest Helga,
Where are you?
I long for you
I call for you and yet
You are not by my side
I cry out in darkness
Groping for your hand
And I am stuck in this reality
Forever waiting for you
And your love.
And as if destiny was playing a game, with Arnold as its player, he walked by the newspaper room, a sign on the door,
Wanted!
Poets and writers for this week's edition of the Groves Weekly! Drop
Your contribution in the box by the door! Thanks!
Without thinking, Arnold ripped out the poem, and signed it, Hopeless Heart.
Phoebe walked into the library, looking around for her best friend, but did not see her. The library was empty, except for a couple of sophomore guys looking at inappropriate things on the internet, a grouchy looking librarian, and a senior girl with brown short hair. Phoebe sat down at a table, waiting for Helga. The brunette whispered loudly,
"Phoebe!" Phoebe looked over at her.
"How do you know- Helga?" Phoebe recognized the expression on the girls face, a mixture of "Doi, who else," and "Thank god."
"Phoebe!" Helga ran over and gave Phoebe a hug. She hung on to Phoebe as if she were a life raft. Phoebe realized that Helga was crying.
"Helga? Are you okay?"
"I'm so happy that you're here. If only..."
"If only what?"
"If only I had had the courage to confess my love to Arnold that night."
"I know Helga. But who knows. There might be such a thing called fate or destiny."
"But what cruel reason could it have to torment me so?!" Phoebe wished she could spare her friend this agony by telling her of Arnolds love, but she new it wasn't meant to happen like that.
"So, Phoebe, how long can you stay? Like an hour? I can call you in sick, and we can go out to lunch maybe."
"No need Helga. I did switch schools" Helga looked at her friend in shock.
"When I said that, I didn't mean, Oh Phoebe!"
"Hey, I need you as much as you need me. Who else is going tell me to get my nose out of the books and have some fun? Huh?"
"Thanks you. Thank you so much!"
"What are friends for?"
"Hey Phoebe?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember, you have to call me Haley when other people are around. The FBI thinks that someone might be trying to get to us."
"Oh, okay."
Little did they know that someone was around. And someone was trying to get them. A big guy that had been behind the bookshelves pulled out his cell phone.
"Boss? It's me Little Tim."
"And?"
"The little Pataki has a friend helping her out."
"So? That doesn't change anything. One week from now, we're putting her out of sight. For good."
"Uh, right boss. Okay. Sorry."
* * * * *
The next day, Helga and Phoebe were looking at the school newspaper.
"Um, Helga?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you see the poetry column yet?"
"No, why."
"Well, you might want to read the one by Hopeless Heart."
"Okay. Let me see it." She flipped to the last page, where the poems were.
"Don't you think it's weird that someone used your real name?"
"Yeah, really weird. Cause Will, you haven't met him, doesn't know my name. And no one here even talks to me besides him."
"Helga, I have a confession to make."
"What is it?"
"I saw Arnold here." Helga's knees suddenly weak.
"Arnold? My Arnold?"
"Yeah."
"Here? I can't even do anything! And he wrote that beautiful poem! For me?!"
"I guess so Helga."
"Oh cruel world! To love and be loved, and yet be denied! Temptation is great!"
* * *
Okay people, I'm keeping my promise! Here's some real dialogue from the play "As You Like It".
Character info:
Rosalind: Main character. Put into exile. Loves Orlando. Cousin/ friend Celia goes with her. Is disguised as a guy.
Celia: Rosalind's cousin/best friend. Follows Rosalind to forest. Helps get her and Orlando together.
Orlando: Loves Rosalind. Has also been banished from the kingdom. Writes Rosalind poems and puts them on trees in the forest. Doesn't know that Rosalind is in the forest.
Enter CELIA, with a writing
ROSALIND
Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside.
CELIA
[Reads]
Why should this a desert be?
For it is unpeopled? No:
Tongues I'll hang on every tree,
That shall civil sayings show:
Some, how brief the life of man
Runs his erring pilgrimage,
That the stretching of a span
Buckles in his sum of age;
Some, of violated vows
'Twixt the souls of friend and friend:
But upon the fairest boughs,
Or at every sentence end,
Will I Rosalinda write,
Teaching all that read to know
The quintessence of every sprite
Heaven would in little show.
Therefore Heaven Nature charged
That one body should be fill'd
With all graces wide-enlarged:
Nature presently distill'd
Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
Cleopatra's majesty,
Atalanta's better part,
Sad Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devised,
Of many faces, eyes and hearts,
To have the touches dearest prized.
Heaven would that she these gifts should have,
And I to live and die her slave.
ROSALIND
O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love
have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never
cried 'Have patience, good people!'
CELIA
Didst thou hear these verses?
ROSALIND
O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of
them had in them more feet than the verses would bear.
CELIA
That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses.
ROSALIND
Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear
themselves without the verse and therefore stood
lamely in the verse.
CELIA
But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name
should be hanged and carved upon these trees?
ROSALIND
I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder
before you came; for look here what I found on a
palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since
Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I
can hardly remember.
CELIA
Trow you who hath done this?
ROSALIND
Is it a man?
CELIA
And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck.
Change you colour?
ROSALIND
I prithee, who?
CELIA
O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to
meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes
and so encounter.
ROSALIND
Nay, but who is it?
CELIA
Is it possible?
ROSALIND
Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence,
tell me who it is.
CELIA
O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful
wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that,
out of all hooping!
ROSALIND
Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in
my disposition? One inch of delay more is a
South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it
quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst
stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man
out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-
mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at
all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that
may drink thy tidings.
CELIA
So you may put a man in your belly.
ROSALIND
Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his
head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?
CELIA
Nay, he hath but a little beard.
ROSALIND
Why, God will send more, if the man will be
thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if
thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin.
CELIA
It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
heels and your heart both in an instant.
ROSALIND
Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and
true maid.
CELIA
I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
ROSALIND
Orlando?
CELIA
Orlando.
Okay. I know its hard to read, but if you read the whole play( which I have posted on fanfiction under Shakespeare) it would make more sense. Its really good. I promise.
*I also know that its been a long time since I've put up a chapter, but I've been working my butt off writing things for you. And one more thing, REVIEW! I know I'm obsessive, but its not surprising considering the fact that I have obsessive compulsive disorder.
Until next time, this is BlackNotebook, signing out.