Chapter Twenty - Carry on Vaughn and Will's Surrogate Son

Carry on my wayward son,
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Now don't you cry no more

"Carry On My Wayward Son," Foo Fighters


( )

[Vaughn's POV]


How in God's name am I supposed to do this? I mean, really. My brain is just incapable of comprehending such craziness. I have absolutely no clue how any of this will possibly take shape and I have no idea how it will result in any good whatsoever.

But I have to do it. So what's the use in bitching and moaning about something that I have to do, regardless of whether I want to or not.

But Mikey wants to bitch and moan! This isn't fairrrrrrrrrr.

I'm so Sydney's b-tch. But whatever. Being Syd's b-tch/man ho is a good life. A good life indeed.

Okay, I might as well break this down into mission objectives. Obviously, my reward upon completing the mission is getting laid. But what else is new? That's what it always comes down to. That should be my first lesson to the eager Cheswick. I could just see it now...

Young man, if there's one thing in life you should always hold above everything else, it's the fact that everything you ever do for a woman should be done in order to get the one thing all men want. Nookie.

Yes, Syd would absolutely love it if she found out that I "do it all for the nookie." Oh good lord, somebody please slap some sense into me. I'm really not this shallow, I swear. There's more to Michael Vaughn than my innermost thoughts are revealing. I really do care about personality and intellect and...

Okay, here's the real deal. I figure I spend the first year and a half plus of my "relationship" with Sydney getting to know who she is and what she's all about. And I wouldn't trade that time in for the world. That's why we were able to connect so quickly once we got here. But on the other hand, now I have a year and half plus of sex to make up.

I just need to shut up. I swear, I'm really not such a sexaholic.

I swear!

Okay, how did we get on such a tangent? I have no clue. What was I talking about? Before the sex and sh-t? Ah yes, mission objectives. I must break this down into mission objectives. So I'm here at the Goat waiting for Will to meet with me. Syd set it up, and I'm hoping she already filled him in, because I don't know how in the Hell I'd explain her insane plan to him withouit seeming extremely homosexual.

Oh my God, Will, this is gonna be SO FUN! We're gonna, like, make over Warren and we'll get to go SHOPPING for him and give him like...A MAKEOVER! Weeeeeee!

So we need two plans. Plan A is assuming that Will doesn't know about the plan. That would entail me finding a somehow reasonable way to explain this whole thing to him, placing all the responsibility with Sydney of course, then we'd have to go to the Stuckeybowl, where Warren will be, then sit him down and give him his first lessons.

Oh lordy.

If Will already knows about the background and crap, I'll put Plan B into action. Plan B is essentially Plan A without the first step. So instead of thinking of some explanation, I would be required to make small talk with Will Tippen. How fun. This is EXACTLY how I wanted to spend my Friday night. Knowing Will, this probably is how he'd like to spend his Friday night. Will is an odd character. Indeed he is.

"Hey, Mike," I look up and see Will taking a seat in the chair across from me at the table.

"Oh, hey Will," I say, with a hint of exasperation. Will better get the point that I don't want to be here because I will not be happy if I have to spend the evening with a giddy Tippin thinking that I'm here to bond with him out of my own free will. "Did Syd fill you in on what's gonna be going down tonight?"

"You mean with Warren?" He asks, leaning his arms on the table. I nod. "Yeah, she did. I think it's a great idea! Warren's such a great kid and he deserves to have atleast one good year out of his high school 'career' as they call it. I know what it's like to have to go through the Hell that is high school in his shoes, and it really isn't fun."

As I stand up, I can't help but feel a little bit regretful about being so anti-Will for as long as I have been. From his body language and expressions, I take it he didn't really have a great high school experience. That's probably why Syd wanted us to do this together...So it could be some sort of redemption for him.

I'll admit, he didn't turn out half bad. He's a good guy, I'll give him that.

"I'm sorry, man," I say, patting Will's back as we make our way to the door. "I think this is a good idea and all, but how are we going to approach this? Shouldn't we come up with some sort of gameplan or something. I mean, we can't just go up to the kid and be like 'you have problems, we're gonna fix 'em.'"

Will laughs and shakes his head. "I have no idea. I have absolutely no idea. If we're lucky, Warren will come to us--"

As if on cue, Warren rushes through the doors and nearly bumps into us.

"Oh thank God I got to you guys before you left. I saw you when I was crossing the street and I was going to--Okay, lemme just come out and say this because there's no use in being nervous and sweaty and incoherent around two of the--"

Damn, this kid really does need help. I think the focus of our session today will be social skills. Because once he gets the social skills down, everything else will come. That's definitely gonna be the focus of today.

"Spit it out, Warren." I say impatiently.

"I need both of your help." He says pointing to me and Will.

I turn to Will and give him a discreet smile, and he stifles a laugh. He so wasted a wishing moment. He should have wished for a million dollars or something instead of for Warren coming to us first. But what more would you expect from Will.

This should be interesting.

---

[Warren's POV]

I've got a little more than a month, and there's no way I'm going to this Spring Formal alone. And no, I won't make the foolish mistake that I made freshman year and hire an escourt service, because we all know that didn't quite turn out the way I hoped for it to. I'm gonna ask a girl out.

But the only way I'm gonna be able to ask a girl out and not get laughed at in my face is to hone in on my weaknesses and transform myself into the ultimate paragon of popularity. Sure, I know it's shallow, but I'm not gonna graduate from this school without having atleast one memorable dance. And if I have to completely change myself to do so, I'm gonna damn well do it.

Plus, I'm not talking about changing who I really am, I'm just talking about looks. Stuff like that. Oh yeah, and preferrably controlling my frighteningly grotesque perspiration problem. I might have to turn to perscription deoderants. How pleasant.

Wait, back to the topic at hand. I need to be transformed, and who better to mold my impressionable young mind than Mr. Saunders and Syd's trusty friend Will.

Mr. Saunders? The sheer fact that he has all the girls in his class swooning would normally be reason enough, but clearly he's a sex God. What else would explain the spell he's able to cast over women-folk. It's unlike anything I have ever seen, and if I'm lucky, he'll pass that lovely trait to me. And Will...Will's a nice guy and I figure he's a young guy, handsome, smart...It wouldn't hurt to have two times the coolness give me what I've been in dire need of since grade five.

Score! They're both right there at the Goat as we speak! I'm telling you this rabbit's foot is good luck. So what if I've been wearing it everyday since the third grade, and it's never given me luck. If anything, it's given me bad luck. But that's not the point. The point is that now at this very moment it has given me good luck and I have to go sieze the opportunity!

I run over to the Goat and almost crash into Will and Mr. Saunders as they're leaving.

Oh sh-t. What am I supposed to say?

You guys are my heroes and I really need you both to teach me everything you know about women so I can please, for the love of God, get laid before I graduate high school? Who am I kidding...College??

Before I realize what's going on around me, Mr. Saunders is telling me to spit it out and I'm not quite sure what I should say.

I calm myself down and point to them both seriously, "I need both of your help."

---

[Vaughn's POV]

On the way to The Stuckeybowl

"So you guys were planning on seeking me out and giving me some advice anyway? How cool is that?!" Warren exclaims excitedly.

"Yup," Will replies, nodding his head. "Mike here was telling me about how he saw the sign for the Spring Formal in the hall and thought that this would be the perfect uh...Birthday gift for you."

"But my birthday's not until July." Warren says, confused.

Foolish, Will. Foolish, foolish, Will.

"Half birthday." I add, proud of myself for improvising so well on the whim.

"Sweet! Usually teachers give you like candy bars or something on your half birthday, but I get to be molded into the ultimate high school student. What more could a guy ask for?!"

Warren is far too giddy about this for his own good. I mean, really. We aren't like deities or something, and it might take a little more than a little bit of advice by us to help him get a date to this thing. And I've got my eye on this kid. Knowing him, he'll try desperately to ask Syd out, and we all know what a no-no that is. No-no with big n's and big o's. NO-NO.

"So is Ed in on this, too? Because, just between us guys, I don't think Ed's quite the guy to go for for this kind of stuff. I mean, being rejected by the same woman for three straight years...What a loser!" Warren starts faux-cracking up and me and Will just stare at him like the lunatic he is. "Oooo-kay, sore subject."

"No, Ed's not gonna be in on this little plan. He went out to dinner with everyone else, but he said we could use his office." I reply, already growing tired of this boy's seemingly infinate supply of excitement.

"Score, I like offices."

He likes offices.

"I know that we haven't offically started this little...I don't even know what to call it..." I say shaking my head, "but I figure it doesn't hurt to give you a tip now anyway."

"Okay, awesome, but hold on a second." He reaches back into his bag and pulls out a notepad and a pen. "Okay, shoot."

I look at him strangely, but continue, nonetheless. "Don't be so eager to please, Warren. It makes you come off as a little...Desperate. I know that's harsh, but...Do you know what I mean? Have a backbone, take a stand, express your opinion...If you don't want to be in Ed's office tonight, just say it!"

"Don't...be...eager...to...please. Okay, what else did you say? Umm...Have backbone...Take stand...Express opinion...Example: Ed's office exchange." He writes furiously but gasps as Will snatches the pad from him and throws it into the trash. Thank God, this man is good for something. "Hey! I paid three bucks for that at Rite Aid!"

"Well, you shouldn't have." Will says as he holds open the door and me and Warren walk into the Stuckeybowl with Will not too far behind us.

"Binky, Slims...What's up?" Phil asks, approaching me.

Whaaa??

"Excuse me? Did you just call me 'Binky'?" I ask, highly confused.

"And me Slims?!" Will adds.

"Hey! I want a cool nickname! Can I be...Jon??" This is gonna be a long night.

"Jon?" Even Phil is confused. You know you've reached unparalleled levels of craziness when Phil doesn't even get you.

"Binky...Binky the Clown...Garfield...Jon, Garfield's owner. Get it??" Warren asks Phil excitedly, but Phil just stares at him with a look of pure disgust on his face, then suddenly bursts out into laughter.

"Funny kid!" He laughs, giving Warren a few fake punches before walking away muttering something about how Warren was the next Conan O'Brien under his breath.

"Okay, that was interesting." I say as I lead the way to Ed's office.

Everyone files in and I close the door behind them and take a seat at Ed's desk.

"Hey, why do you get the comfortable chair behind the desk?" Will asks, dare I say...Pouting??

"Ed's my best friend. He's not here. I get to sit in the chair. As simple as that." I reply with a hint of annoyance.

"Okay, guys, let's get at it. I am but a glob of clay and you two are the sculptors. Transform this unkempt mound into Michaelangelo's David. Or better yet, Mike-Will's Warren."

Like I said, this is gonna be a long night.

---

"What about a beard?" Warren asks, looking into the mirror, stroking his chin.

It's only been an hour and I already want to gouge my eyes and ears out with this pencil. The kid's a good kid, he's nice, and smart, and occasionally funny, but I don't know if I can take such a high concentration of him at once.

"I don't think so, man." Will says, exasperatedly.

"I would have said a moustache...Just look at Burt Reynolds, it worked wonders for him...But I figured mustaches are out, and beards? Beards are sooooo in."

"Warren, I don't think you're ready for that kind of leap."

All of a sudden the door flies open and Shirley and Phil are standing in the doorway.

"Hair is in." Shirley says simply, then proceeds to stare at us like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You know what's even more in, Jon? Chest hair. If there's one thing that girls find undeniably sexy it's a full, rich layer of chest hair on a man's...chest."

Kill me now. Just kill me now. Or better yet, no, because I don't want my last thought from this life to be a mental image of Phil's untamed forest of chest hair. How lovely.

"Warren, don't listen to him," I look up as I hear Will's voice and see Warren taking a glimpse down his shirt then looking back up with a sad expression on his face.

I point to Phil and Shirley and mouth "you two, out." Phil gives me a thumb's up then they scurry out and close the door behind them.

"The beard it out, okay, dude? It's just not going to suit you well, trust me." Will says, walking over to Warren.

"But it suits you."

"I don't have a beard. i'm just too lazy to shave everyday."

"Then that's what I need to do, I need to be too lazy to shave everyday. I want the sexy stubble! Please let me have the sexy stubble!!" The boy is whining about wanting a sexy stubble. What has the world come to?

"Okay fine, don't shave. We've got two more important things to discuss. First, style." I start, picking up a pencil from Ed's desk and playing around with it.

"What's wrong with my style?"

"Nothing's wrong with your style," I say quickly, "but sometimes you may want to put more consideration into what you wear. Dress nicely. A girl can't say no to a well dressed guy."

"Yeah, Mike's right, but remember, don't be too stylish. You don't want to outshine your date. And you definitely don't want to make it seem like you spend hours in front of the mirror everday. No girl wants to go out with a guy that she thinks takes longer than her to get ready for a date."

"You can never spend too much time getting ready," I just had to add that in, because sure, Will may go for the 'I'm stylish and put a lot of thought into what I wear but it doesn't seem like it' look, but knowing Warren, that won't go over so well.

Will looks at me, then back at Warren. Yeah, you best be looking away, boy.

"But each guy has his own style, Mike has his, I have mine, you'll just have to find your own."

"Okay, cool, cool," Warren says, pacing in front of the desk. "What about sports? Are sports really that important?"

"Well, it may have been different when I was in high school, but it really didn't matter, girls tended to like the well-rounded and well-adjusted guy. As long as you're interesting and fun to hang out with, and most of all not nervous and figetey and uncomfortable, it should be fine."

"Well, did you play any sports in high school?" Warren asks, deep in thought.

"Um, yeah, but what does that matter--"

"And so did you, Mr. Saunders...But it's too late for me to join--"

"Warren, trust me, you'll be fine. Just keep in mind everything we talked about today, and if you ever need any help or any thing, just ask us. That's what we're here for. Just think of us as your friends." I of course said this with extreme caution, knowing full well what the repurcussions of such a statement could be, but lucky me, Warren appeared to be thinking about something else altogether.

"Yeah," Will added, "that's what we're here for."

Suddenly, Warren looked up excitedly like a lightbulb just went off in his head.

"I might just might take you up on that...You know how to play hockey, right, Mr. Saunders?"

Oh. Crap.

END CHAPTER TWENTY