A very silly, very short, very disrepectful reimagining of that beloved Highlights for Children comic, "Goofus and Gallant." Any inklings of plot are probably doomed to incompletion. You'll understand when you see which of the brothers I identify with.

Warning: This is not, in fact, for a Highlights audience. As the movie ratings people would say: this story contains references to drugs and strong language. (Don't do drugs, kids!)


The Eternal Struggle

"Smoking is bad for you," said Gallant.

Goofus grunted, gave Gallant the finger, and took a long drag on his cigarette.

"You shouldn't make rude gestures," said Gallant. "It's rude."

Goofus ignored him and tried to blow a smoke ring. It didn't work.

"I'm going to wash the dishes," said Gallant. "Cleanliness is next to godliness."

"And godliness is next to fucking boring," said Goofus. He was sprawled legs-over-armrest in a tatty armchair and wearing a Sex Pistols t-shirt. He watched Gallant through his bangs. "Remind me why I thought living with you was such a great idea?"

"You shouldn't swear," said Gallant as he filled the sink with soap and hot water. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. "You're here because you are a spendthrift and have no money, but family is always there when you need them."

Goofus put his cigarette out on the back of the armchair. Gallant--up to his elbows in suds and dirty dishes and with the afternoon sun glinting off his blonde hair--looked disturbingly like a commercial illustration of a 1950s housewife.

It was probably to do with the preppy short hair--like a butch(er) Doris Day. Goofus preferred his own long, dark locks. Like night and day, the brothers couldn't have been more different. Gallant played football and the piano. Goofus picked fistfights and played the electric guitar, but only to pick up chicks. Gallant made sure all his schoolwork was done neatly and on time. Goofus procrastinated and occasionally didn't hand in anything at all. Gallant had higher SAT scores. Goofus had a higher IQ.

Goofus knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. "Whaddaya doing tonight?"

Gallant looked surprised. It was a vaguely bovine expression that Goofus saw way too often. You'd think after twenty years... "I'm studying, of course."

"Of course."

"Goofus, schoolwork is very important. Knowledge is power. And if I'm diligent, and Molly and Dave are as well, we're all going to go out and get milkshakes."

Goofus gasped. "At night? Before bedtime?"

"No, no," Gallant assured him. He'd finished the dishes and has moved on to wiping the immaculate countertop. "We'll be done in plenty of time todrink a good healthy glass of water and brush our teeth before bed. And I'll skip my usual dessert after dinner, naturally."

It was one of genetics' great ironies that Gallant had to carefully moniter his diet and activity level to maintain a trim physique, while Goofus kept his lanky silhouette without thought. It was a sore spot with Gallant that Goofus loved to poke at.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing tonight?"

Gallant looked mildly terrified. He hadn't been going to ask, Goofus knew--letting a little bit of reciprocal politeness slip past in the hope that it would avoid debauched talk. Not. A. Chance.

"Will you be studying also, tonight, I hope, Goofus?" He was cleaning the crumbs out of the toaster now.

"Nope," Goofus said with great relish. "Mendoza's throwing a party. Sherri says that Chuck says that Mendoza's cousin lifted a case of some kind of imported vodka off a truck in Jersey somewhere.She and Sherri apparently spent four hours making jello shots yesterday."

"But it's Tuesday..." Gallant had somehow gotten grease from the toaster on his kahkis. Goofus knew his work here was done.

"Later, brother." Goofus threw on his leather jacket and sauntered out the door, lighting a cigarette as he went. He wondered how many half-naked, drunk girls he could persuade to come home with him tonight, and how many it would take to put that tic back in Gallant's eye, and he went out into the world laughing.