"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"We don't have time to stall, Helga. It could already be too late. I did it once before. Watch."

BRIIIIING. BRIIIIIING.

"Hello? Principal Wartz? This is Arnold's grandpa. Arnold ate a seven week old sandwich and got sick, so he'll be home for a few days. Man, I was savin' that..."

Then he hung up the phone and Helga's jaw dropped. "You sounded just like your grandpa! How--"

"Now for your call." He dialed the school's number and said, "This is Big Bob Pataki from Bob's Beeper Emporium. Buy a beeper! Oh yeah, and Helga'll be gone from school today. She caught the measles," in Helga's dad's voice.

When Helga found her jaw was still hanging open, she slammed it shut with her hand.

Arnold turned around and crossed his arms. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You know what," he said, smiling triumphantly.

"All right, fine," she sighed. "Nice skills, and you're not such a loser after all."

"Thank you. Now, come on. I can already tell it's going to be a really long day."

"How should you know where we're going? I've got all the information."

"Well then, what information have you got?" Arnold demanded impatiently, and she grinned.

"It's in storage."

"What?" Confusion was written all over his face as he looked at her. "What's in storage, and what storage place?"

Helga tapped her fingers together. "First we have to find him."

As she started off down the sidewalk, Arnold followed hurriedly, puzzled. "Who's him?"

"You'll see."

Arnold followed Helga as she charged down the street toward P.S. 118. "Wait, what are you doing? School? What's going on?"

"We have to go in and get someone," Helga explained, out of breath from the run. "He's in class right now."

"Wait a minute-we can't do that; we called in sick, remember?" Arnold was becoming anxious. "You have measles and I'm at home throwing up!"

"I know, but we have to get inside without anyone noticing. Look, you can stay out here if you want, but I'm going in. We've got lives to save, and quite frankly, getting detention for a few days is the least of my problems."

As soon as he heard these words, Arnold felt like he was meeting a new person...seeing a totally different side of her. A side that was brave and confident, a side that was willing to take risks to help others. And for the first time in his life, he actually admired her.

"No. I'm coming. Let's do this."

The two were making their way up the stairs and toward the front doors when Helga stopped in her footsteps as she realized something. "We can't go in the main doors. We have to go through the playground and avoid the hall monitor. Then somehow we have to get to Mr. Simmon's class and get Brainy's attention without anyone else knowing. Hmm...this is going to be a challenge."

"Wait a minute...Brainy? But how..."

"You'd be surprised. Brainy isn't as dumb as a log after all. He actually has thoughts and feelings...and an interesting home life. It's just, no one really ever bothered to care."

"Oh..." Arnold was suddenly really ashamed of himself. "But you...and I didn't...but you...?"

Helga smirked. "Yeah, I talked to him. He's got some pretty good skills, too. He was the one who got us into Mr. Smith's room and got the information. His detective work's not half bad."

"Wow...I just..."

"Never thought that the quiet, boring kid that hid in the shadows might actually care he doesn't have any friends?"

"I...guess not."

"Geez, Arnoldo, with a head that size I figured you'd have a brain to go with it," Helga teased, and Arnold laughed, and then, she added, "Actually, I didn't either."

There was silence for a few moments, and then Helga cried, "Well, are we just going to stand here moping or are we going to save your parents?"

"All right, what's the plan?" Arnold said with a grin.

"Ain't got one. Wait a minute...yo, kid!" she called out to a third grader, and he turned around. "Want to make ten bucks?"

His lips curled in an ugly smile that showed his awful, crooked teeth. "Yeah!" he exclaimed, and rushed toward her.

"You know Mr. Simmons?"

"Yeah, isn't he the fourth grade teacher?"

"Sure is. Know where his room is?"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Have you seen the bald kid with the squarish face?"

"I think so! Isn't he that one with the snorting problem?"

"Sure is. Go to Mr. Simmon's room and tell that kid he has a message in the attendance office. Here's ten bucks. Now go!"

The third grader eagerly accepted the ten dollar bill and charged into the school.

Helga turned to Arnold and grinned proudly. "I know. I'm good."