Little Noodle Boy At Skool
Part Four: Finals, Part One
A/N: Sorry! Very, very busy with several fics, social issues, sick pets, realizing spooky powers are mine, and midterms.
Little Happy was distraught. He had forgotten all about finals. And his first final was in Getting Shot! Worse, it was TOMORROW!!
Late into the night, pumped up on caffeine-abundant cheese sandwiches, Happy toiled, having Gothic Noodle Boy, a fellow outsider and therefore ally, shoot him, counting down the time until he failed.
It was 3 AM when Happy felt he was ready for the test. He fell asleep on the other noodle's booted foot.
Gothic, moving his boot away disgustedly, commented, "Fuckkkk. my night's just beginning." He then moved out, going to his house to test with his socialite brother, Jock Noodle Boy, for the rest of the night. So the twerp was asleep already. Who cared?
The next day, Mr. Soggy Potato watched as his students filed in after lunch. He had a foreboding feeling that there weren't too many people who studied. He explained the rules patiently for the ones in the class who had a few lights missing in the old attic.
"You will be paired up with a peer by random decision. When you and your partner are called up for your exam, you both have 5 seconds to get up and continue your ranting. If not, you FAIL." Eerie red and black light seemed to shoot out of his body. "Huh? Oh, whatever. Well, bladder squeaks, your test begins now. Gothic and Happy?"
Both exulted in this good luck, since they had prepared together for such a long time the last night.
As he was used to doing, Noodle Boy was first in his test.
"EAT FRENCH FRIES, YOU FROSTED FLAKES WEASEL! YOUR PENCIL'S DECEPTION OF MY DESKTOP SUPPLIES DOES NOT FOOL ME!"
Gothic aimed carefully and fired. The shot hit Noodle Boy square in the shoulder. Good. This would be easy for him.
"Five." The classmates counted down, hoping for failure even more after the last time.
"Four." Sweat appeared on Gothic's forehead.
"Three." The fallen Noodle jumped up.
"NO LONGER SHALL I BE A LAME ANTELOPE! THIS BATTLE BETWEEN THE STICKY AND THE PLASTIC MUST CEASE! HEAR ME, OH MIGHTY DOG'S ASS, AS I PRAISE THEE!"
"AWWWW!" the other kids shouted. Britney pouted in the back.
"Good job, Happy. You get an A."
It was Gothic's turn now. Happy brought out his small gun. He had brought his infamous AK-47 that had wounded Britney.
"THE DARKNESS OF A GERBIL'S BUTT IS OVERWHELMING! TAKE ME NOW, GREAT TISSUEBOX, FOR I HAVE FINALLY MET MY MOOSE'S DOOM!"
Happy's bullet shot through Gothic's arm. He also had been aiming for a spot not to critical, to make it easier on his study buddy.
"Five." the kids giggled sadistically, wanting this loser, at least, to fail. Gothic twitched.
"Fou-" they were cut off as the dark clothing-clad noodle jumped up again.
"OH, SHOVE MY SPOOKY PLASTIC BAGS UP INTO YOUR EAR CANAL, YOU MARMOT FUCKS! FEEL MY PAIN, FOR I HAVE EATEN MORE TAXIDERMIED MONKIES THAN MY STOMACH CAN HOLD!"
The other kids growled in resentment. Both of them had passed. Great.
"A+, MR. GOTHIC! GOOD JOB, MY YOUNG CABBAGE SPORKS!" Mr. Soggy Potato yelled in congratulations.
The rest of the class, save for the few other genius noodles, did. not. good. Not that Happy cared. Good. The first one, and the hardest was down. Only five more to go, and then he would begin his great career as a professional street preacher. He couldn't wait.
A/N: Sorry! Very, very busy with several fics, social issues, sick pets, realizing spooky powers are mine, and midterms.
Little Happy was distraught. He had forgotten all about finals. And his first final was in Getting Shot! Worse, it was TOMORROW!!
Late into the night, pumped up on caffeine-abundant cheese sandwiches, Happy toiled, having Gothic Noodle Boy, a fellow outsider and therefore ally, shoot him, counting down the time until he failed.
It was 3 AM when Happy felt he was ready for the test. He fell asleep on the other noodle's booted foot.
Gothic, moving his boot away disgustedly, commented, "Fuckkkk. my night's just beginning." He then moved out, going to his house to test with his socialite brother, Jock Noodle Boy, for the rest of the night. So the twerp was asleep already. Who cared?
The next day, Mr. Soggy Potato watched as his students filed in after lunch. He had a foreboding feeling that there weren't too many people who studied. He explained the rules patiently for the ones in the class who had a few lights missing in the old attic.
"You will be paired up with a peer by random decision. When you and your partner are called up for your exam, you both have 5 seconds to get up and continue your ranting. If not, you FAIL." Eerie red and black light seemed to shoot out of his body. "Huh? Oh, whatever. Well, bladder squeaks, your test begins now. Gothic and Happy?"
Both exulted in this good luck, since they had prepared together for such a long time the last night.
As he was used to doing, Noodle Boy was first in his test.
"EAT FRENCH FRIES, YOU FROSTED FLAKES WEASEL! YOUR PENCIL'S DECEPTION OF MY DESKTOP SUPPLIES DOES NOT FOOL ME!"
Gothic aimed carefully and fired. The shot hit Noodle Boy square in the shoulder. Good. This would be easy for him.
"Five." The classmates counted down, hoping for failure even more after the last time.
"Four." Sweat appeared on Gothic's forehead.
"Three." The fallen Noodle jumped up.
"NO LONGER SHALL I BE A LAME ANTELOPE! THIS BATTLE BETWEEN THE STICKY AND THE PLASTIC MUST CEASE! HEAR ME, OH MIGHTY DOG'S ASS, AS I PRAISE THEE!"
"AWWWW!" the other kids shouted. Britney pouted in the back.
"Good job, Happy. You get an A."
It was Gothic's turn now. Happy brought out his small gun. He had brought his infamous AK-47 that had wounded Britney.
"THE DARKNESS OF A GERBIL'S BUTT IS OVERWHELMING! TAKE ME NOW, GREAT TISSUEBOX, FOR I HAVE FINALLY MET MY MOOSE'S DOOM!"
Happy's bullet shot through Gothic's arm. He also had been aiming for a spot not to critical, to make it easier on his study buddy.
"Five." the kids giggled sadistically, wanting this loser, at least, to fail. Gothic twitched.
"Fou-" they were cut off as the dark clothing-clad noodle jumped up again.
"OH, SHOVE MY SPOOKY PLASTIC BAGS UP INTO YOUR EAR CANAL, YOU MARMOT FUCKS! FEEL MY PAIN, FOR I HAVE EATEN MORE TAXIDERMIED MONKIES THAN MY STOMACH CAN HOLD!"
The other kids growled in resentment. Both of them had passed. Great.
"A+, MR. GOTHIC! GOOD JOB, MY YOUNG CABBAGE SPORKS!" Mr. Soggy Potato yelled in congratulations.
The rest of the class, save for the few other genius noodles, did. not. good. Not that Happy cared. Good. The first one, and the hardest was down. Only five more to go, and then he would begin his great career as a professional street preacher. He couldn't wait.