Here's yet another Mort and Chica Girl. I've been in a Secret Window kinda mood, I guess. I bet you can all guess the inspiration for this one! I'll tell you now that almost everyone in this story is based on real people. No names, though. Not real ones. Erm, Mort and Shooter, not real. Duh. Oh! I also attempted some French in this one. It's funny to say that I attempted it, seeing as I'm in the French Honor Society (no clue how that one happened.) I'll translate it on the bottom for those as bad as I am at French. Well, actually, I bet I'm better! Hehe... Still, keep in mind that it's not very good French, and I'm too lazy to look it up, so it's my way today! Yep.

Show and Tell (not like that, perv!)

Morton Rainey looked around him uncomfortably. Everyone was looking at him funny and talking behind their hands as if they didn't realize he noticed. Worst of all, his sweater felt itchy. You know that new sweater feeling? Well, Mort hated it. In fact, he hated sweaters, but of course, she made him wearing. Sadly Mort realized that his situation sounded like one of a little school boy resenting his mother's outfit choice. It was worse than that, though.

"Come on Mort, you look fine! You said you'd do this for me!" Chica Girl said impatiently, earlier that morning. She was standing in his doorway tapping her foot, bookbag slung over her shoulder.

The man just looked at his friend, defeated. "Yeah." He muttered, grudgingly. He walked with her to her beat up little car and they drove off. "So tell me again why I have to go to school with you?" He asked, turning down the girls very loud music.

"For show and tell. I'm goin' to bring you in this week to show everyone."

"Isn't show and tell a little young for students your age?"

"No! Juniors always have a share day!" Chica Girl told Mort. "I know you haven't been to highschool since like, the Stone Age, but things are different in this century."

"Ouch, I'm not that old." Mort wimpered dejectedly. By Seven a.m., they had reached Meepsville High and were at Chica Girl's locker. And there Mort was, feeling nervous and stupid in his itchy new sweater. Some students were looking at him oddly, wondering if he was a student. A lot of girls were giving him the googly eyes.

"Damn preps..." CG growled as a clique of cheerleaders giggled by. "They're part of the fangirl army, y'know."

Mort nodded. He thought he recognised one of the blonde twitchy ones. Probably because she saw Mort and mumbled somehting about shovels to her friends before running away. "What class do you have show and tell in, anyways?" Mort asked.

"Oh, English class. And French. That's first and last periods."

"I have to stay here all day!"

"Yep! Oh don't look at me that way! Lunch is on me today, pal." CG turned away to talk with some of her friends, who kept grinning at Mort. Soon, though, the bell rung and Chica Girl dragged Mort off to her french class. This was going to be fun.

"Bon jour, mes amis! Aujourd'hui, j'ai appris mon ami, Morton Rainey. Il habite dans Tashmore Lake. Il est un écrivain. Euh... Il résemble Johnny Depp-" Squeals from the girl students. " Il n'ai pas des amies, sauf moi! Il est un peu bete." Laughter from class. Mort frowned, he didn't speak any French. " Il aime le maize et il ne se lave pas! Il ne fume pas. Il a tuer mon euh...orthodontist-é." Chica Girl grinned cheesily, and the teacher frowned. "Nous allons au centre-commercial et la cinéma, et...oh il aime porter les vetements pour la femme!" More laughter and frowns from the teacher. Mort looked helplessly around for an explanation, but nobody gave him one. They just smiled. A couple of boys fluttered their eyebrows mockingly.

"Merci beaucoup, Minou." The teacher said. After class, Chica Girl skipped hapily down the halls until Mort, carrying her books, stopped her.

"Ha! Your name is Minou! I finally know." He said triumphantly.

CG laughed. "My French nickname is Minou, oui, c'est vrai! It's like the French version of fluffy. However, my real name is not Minou. Yep oh hurry up before-"

"Hey there!" A crazy looking man walked up to the two. "Oh wow, is that Johnny Depp?"

"Erm, hi. Yeah, how about you go take a picture with him." CG said. Sacrificing her friend as to get away from the lunatic.

"OK!" Said the strange person. "Come on, I'll show you my Barbie Doll collection! Oh, they'll want an autograph!" He smiled with a derranged look in his eyes. Mort turned to Chica Girl and mouthed, 'help me,' but the girl just smiled.

"I'll be down that hall in the room with the big window in the front. You can't miss it! Erm, later, Sir!" She said to the teacher currently dragging Morton down the hall.

Fifteen minutes later, Mort found himself staring into a classroom through a big window. Sure enough, his selfish little friend was in there. He was glad to have gotten away. The scary Barbie guy got angry with him when Mort signed his own name, he had called him, "Evil imposter! No good pirate! And the oddest thing was when he threw a singing hampster doll at him. Mort ran for it. Now, Mort was looking at his friend. She was clearly at a loss, trying to decipher what was on the chalkboard. He looked at the number on the door. So that was what had her distraught. "Chemistry 101" He decided to wait outside, that is, until he was noticed by several of the students.

"Sir, what are you doing?" Asked the teacher, fed up with the distraction.

"Oh, um, "

CG came to the door as well. "Sorry, Doc. This is my show-and-tell project." 'Doc.' looked at Mort for a moment and said,

"Hm, well, he can either come in or wait for you in the cafeteria." He pointed down the hall. Mort saw that the cafeteria was right by crazy dude's room, so he walked into the chem. lab. Class resumed and the students were thrown into a never-ending torrent of confusing science guff. Mort was about to nod off, like the boy who was sitting next to CG, but was saved by the bell. Mort scooped up his friend's books and they hurried to the next class.

Chorus class went uneventful for the first half of the period. Mort was glad for that. The director, though soon decided to help out his soprano section. Now, one may think, "Should he really try to sing that high?" But the man most certainly did. He was singing even higher than little Chica Girl, a mere alto. The director's soprano voice was a bit shreiky and Mort winced as he struch a high C. Everyone winced. A window cracked. The fire alarm went off. In the near distance, dogs began to howl. Class got out early that day.

Computer class was also boring. Mort did manage to find a few wonderful websites, however. His favorite was the international corn farmer's page. It was truly beautiful. The teacher looked at him kindly and asked if he was ok when tears brimmed in his eyes. The Home Creepo had a sweet sale on all digging tools, as well. Mort made a mental note to go later.

Finally, it was time for lunch. Chica Girl couldn't have been happier. They found a table where CG's friends were and Mort dropped off the heavy textbooks with much relief. They hopped into the lunch line and waited for their turn. Some girls tried to cut them in line, but stopped when a southern drawl came into hearing. "You little ladies weren't about to cut us, now, where yeh?" It seemed Shooter came out when he was hungry.

"Aren't you Johnny Depp? You better look out. When the rest of us fangirls are around, you will have to admit your love for us!"

"Ma'am, I believe yer mistaken." Shooter said dangerously. "I'm not this Johnny feller. I'm John Shootuh! And yer lucky that I don' have my shovel handy." To that, the girls nervously faund their place in the back of the line. Once inside the kitchen, The two grabbed plastic trays and looked at their food choices. Chica Girl grabbed a turkey grinder, some chips, and a salad, while Mort, I mean, Shooter piled his tray up with corn.

Chica Girl payed, while Shooter smiled at the lunch lady, tipping his hat. "My my, you must love your corn, huh?"

"Why, yes I do. Now I must be goin' as my friend is leavin'." Shooter joined CG as she slathered mayonaise on her sub. She drowned her salad in ranch dressing and they made their way to the table.

"Hi guys! This is Mort!" Chica Girl beamed at her friends, who looked at her with unsure expressions. "Oh, I mean John. John Shooter. Sorry." Shooter only smiled and tipped his hat. "Where did that hat come from?" CG asked. Shooter looked at her funny. "It's my hat..." He told her. Chica Girl tried to strike up a conversation with the other girls, but they seemed transfixed on Shooter, inhaling corn like a vaccum cleaner. She couldn't blame them, though. It was a sight. Like a car accident. It's so horrible that you shouldn't look... but you must! There was a moment, that Shooter did pause from his horrible eating. He looked up, eyes narrowed, corn all over his face, and stared at the Principal of the school.

"I know that man..."

"Who, Mr. Joker?"

"No, Clemintine!" For some reason, probably because it was a southern sounding name, Shooter was convinced that Chica Girl was Clemintine. "That man there... He's Chef Boyardee!"

"...Chef Boyardee?"

"That's what I said, Clem! Lookit 'im!" Chica Girl did so. Wow he really did have an eerie resemblance to the man on the Beef-a-Roni can. Crazy.. "Now, he don' know it, but I'm on to him. He thinks he's got y'all fooled, but not me. Not ol' Shootuh. No sir-ee! Now, I'll be a-watchin him, Clem." Shooter said, as if indulging his friend in a huge secret.

Mort finally snapped out of it right before the last class of the day, but not before an enconter with a fangirl mob.

"There he is! Get him." They expected him to run, but Shooter never runs. Ever! He ain't no coward. He just turned to the mass of girls and stared them down. Being creatures of an inferior intelligence, the preppies charged, not knowing that they should fear this man. Shooter punched open a fire extinguisher door. He then bashed in the heads of anyone who dared try to rip off his hat, or glasses, or clothes in that matter. Fangirls are scary things! For good measure, he sprayed the whole mob with the extunguisher, and then, Shooter took off. "C'mon, Clemintine!" Theyran as fast as they could to Chica Girl's English class. The last class of the day, Mort was back and in a dazed stupor as they entered the classroom.

They took their seats and the lesson began. All of the students had their show and tell projects with them. Mort was surprised to find that Chica Girl was right about Juniors actually still doing this. CG was the last to present her project. She nervously walked to the front of the room, pulling Morts arm.

"Hello everybody, um, today I brought in this Mort to share with you. Erm, he writes and sleeps a lot. He is an amatuer corn farmer and yeah. He likes shovels, Doritos, corn, Mountain Dew, and stuff. I'd like to show you some tricks he can do." Ghica Girl took out a paper bag. She also pulled out a hula hoop, nobody was sure where it came from, though. She nodded to Mort and held up the hoop. "Through!" She barked and Mort obeyed by jumping through the hoop and landing on the other side, looking at her expectantly. CG got the hint and took somehting out of her paper bag. It was a baby corn, like those in a fancy salad or somehting.

"Stay!" The girl ordered, placing the baby corn on the bridge of Mort's nose, so that it rested on the rim of his glasses. "Ready...get it!" Mort flicked back his head and tossed the corn, catching it in his teeth. "Good Mort!" Chica Girl patted the man on the head proudly. By the end of the period, she had him do a backflip and speak for the students. Everyone applauded.

"So, Rainey, how'd you do today?" Chica Girl asked, driving him home.

"Man, highschool sucks. It was like...re-living a sucky erm, day in highschool."

"Yeah, school is pretty lame. Especially my school."

Here's your rough translation: "Good day, my friend! Today, I brought my friend, Morton Rainey. He lives in Tashmore Lake. He's a writer. Er...he looks like Johnny Depp."--"He doesn't have any friends, except me! He's a bit dumb."--"He likes corn, he doesn't bathe, He doesn't smoke. He killed my...er, orthodontist."--"WE go to the mall and the movies...oh! and he wears women's clothing!"

That's pretty much it! I hope you liked this story, and I'd love to hear your opinions!