A/N: Phew, a break from trying to pair those two cheeky munchkins up! As I've been writing this story I've been overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. I promise weekly updates if it seems as though people want more, (and maybe even if they don't!), but it is turning into quite a lot one, and I don't think the extra chapters are going to be any different. My aim here is to write a story that feels more like an episode of the cartoon, although I'm obviously going to stray from that path a little at some point or other. I want to say a big thank you to everyone who reviewed Love Story, and a big thank you to anyone still sitting there after trawling through these notes. As usual, I own nuttin'. Now sit back, get comfortable, and enjoy!

CHAPTER 1 - Helga's Bad News

Arnold paced around his room like a caged lion. He twisted and knotted his hands together, gritted his teeth and let out spasmodic growls. To say that he was in a bad mood would have been a gross understatement. His temper had been so furiously tested that day that he could almost taste the coppery cold blood on the tip of his tongue. He could feel his morals and ethics being overpowered by his pure desire to get even, his blood was boiling. Today had been the straw that broke the camel's back. He resolved, right there and then among his gadgetry and technology, that no longer would he be such a doormat. No longer would he just ignore the things she did, letting them slide. From this day forth Arnold vowed to stop letting Helga G. Pataki get away with murder.

His eyes darted over to his bed and for a second they flashed with bright white fire. In a heap on his crumpled duvet lay every school book he owned. Every single one. And not one of them had survived the day's events. They were all drenched in a mixture of paint, charcoal, and tapioca pudding. Maybe, just maybe, he could have forgiven her, but as he extracted a clump of loose A4 sheets from the pile he knew that just couldn't be the case. In his hand he held the soggy mass that had once been his science project. For five weeks he had been working on it, five weeks of Bunsen burners and exact measurements, and now it was nothing more than an unreadable mush, page upon page of foul smelling gunk and bleeding ink. The gooey mess coated his hands, and he threw the papers back down in disgust. Grinding his molars noisily, he resumed his pacing.

The day had started so well, thought Arnold, remembering how he had bounded out of bed, excited that today was the day all his hard work would pay off. The morning had flowed so smoothly. Breakfast had been ready and cooked and recognisable as traditional morning foodstuffs. For the first time since God only knew, Arnold enjoyed scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast, as opposed to salmon fillets or Irish stew. His Grandpa had offered him a lift to school in his shiny green Packard, but Arnold had politely declined. He was planning to meet Gerald on the corner, and they were going to get the bus together. Arnold always enjoyed getting the bus with Gerald, it was that peaceful time in the morning where all around them rowdy kids would be screaming and pushing, but he and Gerald could calmly discuss the police chase show that had been on television the night before.

They boarded the bus together, perfectly in time to catch it as it rolled into view. They flashed the driver their passes and sat down in their usual seats, Gerald next to the window and Arnold happily just an aisle seat across from Lila. "Good morning Arnold," she said in that sweet country voice of hers. Arnold was pleasently suprised; he was usually the one who had to start up the conversations with her.

"Morning Lila," he had said, just feeling in a thoroughly good mood that day. While Lila spent most of the journey chatting animatedly to Sheena and he himself discussed things with Gerald, they did manage to grab snippets of conversation with each other, and Arnold definitely decided that was better than nothing. He sat back in his chair and ran his hand over the back of his neck, even the spitballs were missing today. He spun around suspiciously. Helga Pataki was there all right, in her usual spot next to Phoebe Hyerdahl, but she seemed too consumed in her own thoughts to be tormenting him that morning, and just stared dreamily out of the window instead. He turned to face front, not wanting her to notice him looking.

Helga had caught Arnold's look in her direction out of the corner of her eye, she knew he was cheking to see if she was taking aim. Any other day she would have been throwing spitballs at his head, but today her mind was on something else. Something that wasn't him. Bob had broke the news to her that morning as she rushed around, desperately looking for something that qualified as lunch while the threat of missing the bus inched ever closer. "So, if this deal goes forward, we'll be having breakfast with the Queen in less than two months time! Won't that be great Olga? Yeah, you always loved England so much, always going on about how much you wanted to go back..." Bob mused to himself.

"It's 'Helga' dad," she replied as she rooted through the cupboards, standing on a chair. "And I've never been to England, I don't know if I'll like it or not." Then it clicked. She dropped the tin of green beans she was holding noisily on the counter. "What?"

"England, Olga, England! Big Bob's Beeper Emporium is going international! Nick reckons we can have stores in most of Europe in six months. We're gonna be rich girl, rich!" Helga slowly climbed off her chair.

"We're moving?" she whispered.

"You bet! Two months from now we'll be living next door to the first Big Bob's England has ever seen! It's gonna be great!" said Bob, and he headed out of the front door and got into his car. Helga listened to him speed away, her mind racing. She didn't want to leave Hillwood, it was her home. She had so much to lose. Phoebe, Arnold... She plunged her hand down her t-shirt and withdrew her familiar locket.

"Oh Arnold! How will I survive half the world away from you? Knowing you're here, with that sweet football head of yours, while I am stranded in the rain and misery of England's green and unpleasant land? How will I go on, thinking of you enjoying your childhood, playing baseball with tall hair boy and carrying on in your oh so optomistic ways while I attend some uniformed school and Miriam sits around drinking Earl Grey smoothies? I won't let him take me Arnold, I swear! I'll stop his evil plans somehow and then everything will be alright!" And she grabbed her books and ran for the bus, where now she sat, contemplating the disaster that her life might become.

-

The class sat at their desks, restless as anything against the sun that shone through the dirty schoolhouse windows. Helga had already ripped a sheet of paper into strips, ready for a days fierce spitballing, but much to her her dismay Arnold had chosen to sit out of her line of fire. Stinky was proving to be an adequate replacement though, and she was already into the full swing of chew, spit, mock, chew, spit, mock. "Knock it off Helga, that really bites," Stinky drawled in the angriest voice he could manage, wiping the beck of his neck with his hand. Helga gave a spiteful laugh and launched another spitball at him, which landed squarely on his cheek.

"Now class," Mr. Simmons started, indicating to them that they should all settle down, "I want you to get started straight away on your science projects. Now I must remind you, you have to wear safety goggles at all times. I'm sure we all remember the incident last week with Eugene's hydrochloric acid, but the nurse informs me he should be getting his sight back any day now. Get into your groups class and off you go!" This statement was followed with a great rabble and much scraping of chairs as people tried to team up with their lab partners, who it seemed had chosen to sit on the opposite side of the class to them. Arnold remained seated while Gerald pushed his chair over to his desk, from which he extracted a lengthy and detailed report.

"I tell you Arnold, this is the first definite A I have ever had," Gerald said confidently as he quickly flipped through the papers.

"We've worked really hard on it Gerald, it's worth an A," said Arnold, equally as confident as Gerald. Science was something that Arnold could both easily grasp and that he really enjoyed. It fascinated him, especially the chemistry element. Their investigation was about oxidisation, something which Mr. Simmons had said was very advanced for fourth graders, but Arnold and Gerald ploughed on regardless. They now had a hefty chunk of writing to show for it which was just a conclusion away from being finished. Mr. Simmons waltzed up to their desk and peered over Arnold's shoulder.

"Oh, nearly finished boys?" he buzzed.

"Oh you bet Mr Simmons, this is going to be the best project ever," Arnold said brightly, not noticing Helga cringe beside him.

Phoebe was chattering away next to Helga about their project. It was a lot more simpler than Arnold and Gerald's, and Helga realised with some bitter resentment that Phoebe had made it that way for Helga's sake. She did admit, however, that she was still a little lost in the basic concepts Phoebe was trying to explain to her, and her mind was starting to wander the way it always did when she was being lectured to. And as usual, it was starting to wander towards Arnold. Look at him, the fool, so cheery, so bright, so desperately clamouring for Teacher's praise. What a pet, what an absolute suck-up. And yet, how I admire him. So smart, so clever so-

"Helga?"

Helga was brought back to earth with a nasty bump. It was Phoebe, trying to pull her out of her dream-like state. She was holding a chart in front of her and tapping her pencil on the desk. She looked frustrated.

"Sorry Pheebs, lot on my mind," Helga said absently, finally tearing her eyes away from Arnold. Phoebe, who had been following Helga's line of sight, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'll tell you at lunch," Helga said quickly, covering her tracks. Phoebe became convinced that it was something else and went back to their project.

-

"...and so Big Bob wants to shoot us all over to Britain so he can begin his rule as the Beeper King in a place where they actually have a monarchy." Helga slumped forward on the lunch table, burying her head in her arms. Phoebe was stunned. Her hand was poised half way to her mouth, the Sushi dangling from the chopsticks rather dangerously. She had been listening to Helga's tale with half an ear; Helga's 'dilemas'usually turned out to be nothing much more than subtle childhood dramas, like the Monkey Nucleosis, or her despair about her roadtrip with her parents. But Helga moving away was a different story, Phoebe stood to lose her best friend and ashamedly her first thought was of herself. Helga maybe be slightly bossy and overbearing, but she was still the best friend Phoebe had ever had. She cheered her up when she was down, protected her when she was under threat, and showed her that there was more to her than a pair of fists.

"You can't go away Helga!" Phoebe cried, tears forming behind her spectacles.

"Criminy Pheebs, do you think I really want to?" said Helga, her head snapping up. "But you know Bob, once he's got an idea in his head there's no stopping him. He just blunders on regardless of how I feel," Helga snorted. "That's if he even notices at all." She sighed and slumped her head back down.

"But... but..." Phoebe stammered, the impact of her losing her best friend hitting her with the force of a dodge ball. "It can't be for ages yet, these sorts of deals take forever to plan out." It wasn't much consolation to her, but the idea that Helga might be staying for a while yet gave Phoebe a small strip of hope.

"Nope. Apparently Bob's had this all planned out for ages, he just neglected to tell anyone. Two months he says, two months and we'll be on our way to start our new life overseas," Helga was muttering into the table, so Phoebe had to strain her ears to hear her properly. Phoebe thought for a second, her eyes wide as she searched her brilliant brain trying to find an alternative solution. Finally, she leaned heavily back in her chair, admitting defeat.

"I'm really going to miss you Helga," Phoebe said in a quiet voice. Helga looked up. She's not going to miss me, she thought, because I'm not going to go. She would find a way around Bob's plan, she would make him see sense and they would stay in Hillwood, happily ever after. But just in case she couldn't, she took Phoebe's hand in hers for a second.

"I'm really gonna miss you too Pheebs," she whispered, and buried her head in her arms once more, but this time it was to hide the tears.