Author's Note: inspired by "Authority Song" by Jimmy Eat World and therefore loosely based upon it. Good song by some local boys. ^-^

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Down on Maple Street one Friday morning, a new little diner had opened, and it was quickly filled with a mob of youngsters. The diner really was geared toward an older generation, one who would enjoy a 50's-style. The brightly checkered floor tiles and red walls made the inside seem dizzyingly larger than it looked from the outside. The booths and tables were arranged carefully around the edges of the dining area, to leave the center open for dancing, if the patrons felt moved by music blaring from large speakers connected to an old-fashioned jukebox in one corner. Along one wall were classic video games, and all around the edges of the room were odd bits of memorabilia and other interesting collectibles.

But being a Friday, most adults were at work and if they hoped to visit the place for a thick, old-fashioned hamburger and a luxurious malted shake, they had to wait until that evening. However, that Friday just happened to be a teachers' inservice day, so all the children of PS 118 were on holiday. Nearly all of the fourth graders, as expected, could be found at that little diner, along with kids of various other ages.

Sid, Stinky, Park, and Gerald were all busy at the arcade games, the sound effects swallowed up by the blaring music from the jukebox. Kids had been pumping quarters into it all morning, delighted with the novelty. Out on the dancefloor, Rhonda, Nadine, Peapod Kid, Joey, Sheena, Eugene, a Campfire Lass or two, and a handful of sixth graders all were dancing, or trying. Harold, of course, was seated comfortably in a booth, working heartily on his fifth burger. Curly was perched on a table, a metal condiment basket balanced on his head and a malt glass held aloft in one hand, the other arm tucked against his side, looking in all his glory like a demented Statue of Liberty - or Insanity. No one bothered him to ask.

Even Helga Pataki was there, hidden away in a dark booth in a back corner. This really wasn't her scene, she thought, but her friend Phoebe had coaxed her to come along. Well, maybe it had a lot to do with Phoebe mentioning that Arnold would be there. That was where her focus lay at the moment. Arnold was wandering slowly around the room, drink in hand, looking at all the interesting wall decorations. Helga sighed as she stared at the back of his head.

The song on the speakers ended and then a familiar Beach Boys tune began. Rhonda was heard over the music screeching, "NOT FUNNY AT ALL!"

Helga turned her attention away from Arnold long enough to see if she could spot who had ruffled the princess's feathers. The boys at the arcade games were all laughing, and Sid had a proud grin on his face. Unfortunately for Helga's sense of entertainment, Rhonda only glared at Sid, sniffed, and turned away to return to her booth. But Helga watched as Phoebe, who had been standing shyly near the gamers, was approached by Gerald. Some words passed that Helga couldn't make out, but both were soon smiling and walking to the dance floor.

Helga sighed and pulled out her locket. She spoke sadly to it, "My love, how unfair it is that I see so many opportunities to make my feelings known to you, yet I push them aside and continue to torture you unfairly. Even Phoebe, the shyest girl in the school, can make her feelings known to Gerald and find comfort near the presence of her loved one. My dearest, how can I keep myself from such satisfaction? How can I be so torn between honesty and holding up my mysterious yet brutal exterior?"

She looked up again at the back of the one she loved, and sighed again. "How can I be so scared of you, my love?"

Suddenly she stiffened. "No, today will be the day. I will show the world that I'm not scared any more."

And with that resolve she stood up, hearing the music shift again, to another happy, vaguely familiar oldies tune. She steeled herself as she drew nearer Arnold, who was busily reading over a framed newspaper article about some baseball player. Helga stopped just behind him and took a deep breath before asking softly, in her nicest voice, "Hey Arnold, I was ... I was wondering if ... if you'd like to, um, dance?"

She waited for a response, but several long moments passed without a reply. She suddenly realized that he wasn't mad, or turning her down, he hadn't even heard the question! The music was too loud, and she had spoken too softly. Taking another deep breath, hoping she could say it a second time, Helga raised a hand to tap him on the shoulder, but Arnold suddenly turned around. Both jumped at the sudden contact.

"Uh, hi Helga. Did you, uh, want something?" Arnold asked hesitantly.

Helga closed her eyes and opened her mouth to say those words again ... but something inside her broke. The steel had snapped and she suddenly slipped back into her normal act. "Yeah, Football Head. You're standing in front of the napkin dispenser." She leaned around him to violently rip out a handful of napkins and stalked away.

"Sorry Helga," Arnold shouted at her retreating back.

Helga returned to her corner, napkins clenched tightly in her fist. Plopping heavily into the cushion, she sighed one more time, in complete and utter frustration.

"Why?" she growled. "Why does it always go wrong? One day, my love ... one day maybe I won't be scared any more. One day you'll realize my secret purpose to all my bitter and cruel actions. One day you'll know how obvious I was all along, when it all sinks into your dense football-shaped head. Oh my love, but for now this is the way the hustle goes," she admitted to herself sadly.