All right, here's chapter 2, in all its pathetic glory.
Chapter 2: Sign the Frickin Contract
"Good morow to ya Lad!", said Campfire Lass as Arnold got off the bus.
"And good morning to you", said Arnold. "Has Chocolate Boy paid you back yet?"
"Well, there seems to be a little bit of a holdup...", she said.
"Oh no..."
"Fear not... he already gave me a sample of his turtles!", she said. "He told me that he'd have a whole box of them out by de alley behind Dr. Steiglitz's office!"
"DOCTOR STEIGLITZ!!", Arnold yelled out.
"What's the problem with that?", she asked.
"Umm... just don't go there just yet."
Arnold rushed into class, and looked desperately around for Harold, or Helga, or Patty, or someone with muscle. He saw Harold first.
"Harold!!", he shouted. "I need your help."
Harold looked around for a second. "ME? You need MY help?"
"Yeah, there might be a problem, you know, a physical problem!"
"What's a physical?"
"I mean there might be fighting!"
"FIGHTING! But, I dunno... maybe if you pay me..."
"How much?"
"Umm, a hundred cents!! Haha!!!"
"Do you promise to help if I pay you a hundred cents?", asked Arnold.
"Of course", said Harold slyly.
"Ok Harold", Arnold said as he gave Harold a dollar.
"Hey!!", shouted Harold. "This is only a dollar, I said a hundred cents!"
"A hundred cents is a dollar, paste for brains", said a newly arriving Helga.
"What! Aww... no fair, you tricked me!"
"I didn't trick you, are you coming or not?"
"Oh... fine!!!"
Arnold, Harold, and Campfire Lass made their way out to the alley behind the Doctor's office. Arnold was slightly scared Harold might not be enough to handle the situation if it got ugly. As they entered into the lot, he saw Chocolate Boy standing seemingly alone with two boxes of Chocolate Turtles. Arnold felt slightly relieved but not for long.
"Here, here, crazy lady can have her boxes."
"Thank ye lad", said Campfire Lass as she picked up the boxes.
"And how exactly will he be paying for those", came a voice from behind some boxes. Out stepped a small Italian kid with a mean looking face. He was followed by two huge goons, all of them were dressed very well. He talked with a hint of a Sicilian accent. "He doesn't exactly look like he's loaded with cash."
"CHOCOLATE BOY!!!", shouted Arnold. "What about your other chocolate?"
"I ate it!"
Arnold growled and then looked back at Big Gino, who was P.S. 118's local connection to the mafia. "He's not buying these boxes."
"It's a little bit late for that", said Gino as he held out a piece of paper. Arnold grabbed and read.
This confirms that Chocolate Boy, herein referred to as Party A, has officially purchased two boxes of chocolate turtles from the Gino Family, herein referred to as Party B. Party A is as of now, unable to pay for the boxes, and as such, interest will be charged. Party B sells two boxes for $40, so interest will be a %10 increase every other day until all is repaid. If the deadline of two weeks goes by, legal action will be taken.
Signed...
Big Gino's neat handwriting was followed by Chocolate Boy's sloppy signature written in, well, chocolate.
"What kind of legal action?", asked Arnold.
Gino smiled, and his goonies cracked their knuckles. Harold looked at the two big kids, and started cowering. Arnold realized then that he wouldn't be much help. "If it isn't the friggin kid with the screwed up head, who's this, your soldier? Don't seem so tough to me. So, I'm assuming you want to wheel and deal?"
"No", said Arnold. "We'll pay you back."
"Umm... Arnold", said Chocolate Boy. "I don't think..."
"He's gonna pay you back, trust me."
Gino grinned for a second. "Arnold, you sound sure of yourself. You realize that by the end of the deadline, he will owe us $78."
"I'm aware, and he'll pay you back, now we're leaving."
"Fine." Gino and his men left, and Arnold dragged Chocolate Boy out of the lot. Harold had ran as soon as Gino mentioned him, Campfire Lass was still counting her chocolate.
"You're in deep this time Chocolate Boy!", yelled Arnold. "What made you think to come to these, "people" for help?"
"Cause they have chocolate!"
"Err...., all right, well I have a plan. Campfire Lass?"
"Aye Lad?"
"Do you think he could work for you?"
"WHAT", yelled Chocolate Boy.
"I'm supposin it would nay hurt. He could help us sell chocolate, and if he sells enough, we might be able to reimburse him. This certainly would be underground though, our Clan Chiefs wouldn't be wantin a non-member working for money."
"Ok...", said Arnold.
"I can't sell chocolate!!! Give chocolate away, not eat it, that's blasphemous!"
"I think you'll have to watch him closely though. He might try to well, sample the product", said Arnold.
"Don't ye be worryin!", said Campfire Lass. "He won't be sellin, we'll just have him carryin the boxes, we can keep an eye on 'im."
"Do I get any say in this?", asked Chocolate Boy.
"Oh sure", said Arnold. "Just go over to Big Gino and tell him that you'll be unable to get his money. I'm certain he'll understand."
Chocolate Boy lay down, and started crying again.
"What happened to your recovery?", Arnold asked. "What about the group?"
"What group?"
"Oh, just forget it!", Arnold said as he started to walk away. "Remember to make him work for you."
After Arnold left the alley, Campfire Lass was left alone with a sobbing Chocolate Boy. She started to feel a bit sorry for him, and sat down next to him. "Calm down, ye cry like a wee lass.", she said. He wiped off his face and looked at her.
"Don't make fun of me!", he said.
"Don't be so snappy lad! You gotta know when someone's joking with you!"
"Everyone makes fun of me! I eat too much chocolate, and everyone thinks its funny, but it isn't!"
"Well, it is sorta funny..."
"NO!!! It's all cause of my Nanny..."
"Nanny? Oh grandmother, what about yer grandmother?"
"Well, she's the one who always gave me chocolate. My parents never gave me..."
END Chapter 2, ok, read and review and all that stuff. Maybe I'll give a shoutout if I like your review enough. I think its cute, myself.
Chapter 2: Sign the Frickin Contract
"Good morow to ya Lad!", said Campfire Lass as Arnold got off the bus.
"And good morning to you", said Arnold. "Has Chocolate Boy paid you back yet?"
"Well, there seems to be a little bit of a holdup...", she said.
"Oh no..."
"Fear not... he already gave me a sample of his turtles!", she said. "He told me that he'd have a whole box of them out by de alley behind Dr. Steiglitz's office!"
"DOCTOR STEIGLITZ!!", Arnold yelled out.
"What's the problem with that?", she asked.
"Umm... just don't go there just yet."
Arnold rushed into class, and looked desperately around for Harold, or Helga, or Patty, or someone with muscle. He saw Harold first.
"Harold!!", he shouted. "I need your help."
Harold looked around for a second. "ME? You need MY help?"
"Yeah, there might be a problem, you know, a physical problem!"
"What's a physical?"
"I mean there might be fighting!"
"FIGHTING! But, I dunno... maybe if you pay me..."
"How much?"
"Umm, a hundred cents!! Haha!!!"
"Do you promise to help if I pay you a hundred cents?", asked Arnold.
"Of course", said Harold slyly.
"Ok Harold", Arnold said as he gave Harold a dollar.
"Hey!!", shouted Harold. "This is only a dollar, I said a hundred cents!"
"A hundred cents is a dollar, paste for brains", said a newly arriving Helga.
"What! Aww... no fair, you tricked me!"
"I didn't trick you, are you coming or not?"
"Oh... fine!!!"
Arnold, Harold, and Campfire Lass made their way out to the alley behind the Doctor's office. Arnold was slightly scared Harold might not be enough to handle the situation if it got ugly. As they entered into the lot, he saw Chocolate Boy standing seemingly alone with two boxes of Chocolate Turtles. Arnold felt slightly relieved but not for long.
"Here, here, crazy lady can have her boxes."
"Thank ye lad", said Campfire Lass as she picked up the boxes.
"And how exactly will he be paying for those", came a voice from behind some boxes. Out stepped a small Italian kid with a mean looking face. He was followed by two huge goons, all of them were dressed very well. He talked with a hint of a Sicilian accent. "He doesn't exactly look like he's loaded with cash."
"CHOCOLATE BOY!!!", shouted Arnold. "What about your other chocolate?"
"I ate it!"
Arnold growled and then looked back at Big Gino, who was P.S. 118's local connection to the mafia. "He's not buying these boxes."
"It's a little bit late for that", said Gino as he held out a piece of paper. Arnold grabbed and read.
This confirms that Chocolate Boy, herein referred to as Party A, has officially purchased two boxes of chocolate turtles from the Gino Family, herein referred to as Party B. Party A is as of now, unable to pay for the boxes, and as such, interest will be charged. Party B sells two boxes for $40, so interest will be a %10 increase every other day until all is repaid. If the deadline of two weeks goes by, legal action will be taken.
Signed...
Big Gino's neat handwriting was followed by Chocolate Boy's sloppy signature written in, well, chocolate.
"What kind of legal action?", asked Arnold.
Gino smiled, and his goonies cracked their knuckles. Harold looked at the two big kids, and started cowering. Arnold realized then that he wouldn't be much help. "If it isn't the friggin kid with the screwed up head, who's this, your soldier? Don't seem so tough to me. So, I'm assuming you want to wheel and deal?"
"No", said Arnold. "We'll pay you back."
"Umm... Arnold", said Chocolate Boy. "I don't think..."
"He's gonna pay you back, trust me."
Gino grinned for a second. "Arnold, you sound sure of yourself. You realize that by the end of the deadline, he will owe us $78."
"I'm aware, and he'll pay you back, now we're leaving."
"Fine." Gino and his men left, and Arnold dragged Chocolate Boy out of the lot. Harold had ran as soon as Gino mentioned him, Campfire Lass was still counting her chocolate.
"You're in deep this time Chocolate Boy!", yelled Arnold. "What made you think to come to these, "people" for help?"
"Cause they have chocolate!"
"Err...., all right, well I have a plan. Campfire Lass?"
"Aye Lad?"
"Do you think he could work for you?"
"WHAT", yelled Chocolate Boy.
"I'm supposin it would nay hurt. He could help us sell chocolate, and if he sells enough, we might be able to reimburse him. This certainly would be underground though, our Clan Chiefs wouldn't be wantin a non-member working for money."
"Ok...", said Arnold.
"I can't sell chocolate!!! Give chocolate away, not eat it, that's blasphemous!"
"I think you'll have to watch him closely though. He might try to well, sample the product", said Arnold.
"Don't ye be worryin!", said Campfire Lass. "He won't be sellin, we'll just have him carryin the boxes, we can keep an eye on 'im."
"Do I get any say in this?", asked Chocolate Boy.
"Oh sure", said Arnold. "Just go over to Big Gino and tell him that you'll be unable to get his money. I'm certain he'll understand."
Chocolate Boy lay down, and started crying again.
"What happened to your recovery?", Arnold asked. "What about the group?"
"What group?"
"Oh, just forget it!", Arnold said as he started to walk away. "Remember to make him work for you."
After Arnold left the alley, Campfire Lass was left alone with a sobbing Chocolate Boy. She started to feel a bit sorry for him, and sat down next to him. "Calm down, ye cry like a wee lass.", she said. He wiped off his face and looked at her.
"Don't make fun of me!", he said.
"Don't be so snappy lad! You gotta know when someone's joking with you!"
"Everyone makes fun of me! I eat too much chocolate, and everyone thinks its funny, but it isn't!"
"Well, it is sorta funny..."
"NO!!! It's all cause of my Nanny..."
"Nanny? Oh grandmother, what about yer grandmother?"
"Well, she's the one who always gave me chocolate. My parents never gave me..."
END Chapter 2, ok, read and review and all that stuff. Maybe I'll give a shoutout if I like your review enough. I think its cute, myself.