2

"Sid, Sid, why did it have to be Sid?" Gerald groaned as he and Arnold walked together after school. "Have you seen the dump he lives in? I don't have to tell you, Arnold, but I'm a very high maintenance man, man."

"At least you didn't get Helga Pataki." Arnold shuffled his feet as he walked. "You know how those Patakis are. Everything's gotta be the best, everyone's gotta be perfect. Well," The football headed boy stopped. "This is Helga's place. I guess I'll see you later, Gerald."

"Yeah, see ya man, and don't worry," Gerald shot his friend a grin. "How bad could it be?"

Inside, Arnold shut the door and set his book bag down. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"Cast off Herb, you stupid galoots!" Someone boomed in the living room. Arnold decided to take a look.

Big Bob Pataki was plopped in front of the TV, empty can in hand. "Jeez, stupid reality shows." He noticed the fourth grader in the doorway. "Who the heck are you?"

"I'm Arnold, Mr. Pataki. I'm supposed to take Helga's place for a week for a school project…"

"Fine, fine. Can you get me another cold one from the fridge?" The large man put up his feet. "I'm nearly dying of thirst here!"

In the kitchen, Arnold saw Miriam Pataki face down on the counter. "Oh my gosh!" He shrieked. "Mr. Pataki, Mrs. Pataki's dead!"

"What are you yapping about?" Bob called from the living room.

"Mrs. Pataki! She's dead!"

"She's not dead! Criminy. She just fell asleep again!" At her husband's yell, Mrs. Pataki stirred. Wiping a string of drool from her mouth, she looked at Arnold. "Hello. You must be one of, um, Helga's little friends."

Arnold was taken aback by how old and stale her breath smelled, but he managed to politely say, "I'm Arnold, and I'm supposed to take Helga's place for a week…"

"That's nice," She muttered. "I was just making dinner over there. It should be ready in five minutes." Arnold looked in the pot on the stove.

"Mrs. Pataki, this pot is completely empty."

"Oh, well then, how about we order a pizzahhhh…" The tall blonde women collapsed onto the floor in front of Arnold's feet.

"Hey, Arlen! Where's my drink?" Big Bob yelled.

Arnold sighed. "I wonder how Helga's doing."

Helga danced about Arnold's room, stuffing things into her book bag. "This will go good with my shrine, and this, and this…" There was a knock on the door. Helga threw the bag onto the bed. "Come in."

Grandpa poked his head in. "Well, hello there. So, you're going to be Arnold's replacement for a week, are you?"

"That's right, Old Time…I mean, Arnold's Grandpa."

"Call me Grandpa. Now you know, that means you're going to do Arnold's chores for him.

Helga shrugged. "No sweat. How bad could they be?"

"And today is the first of the month!" Grandpa grinned. "Do you know what that means?"

"No." Helga replied. "What's that mean?"

Helga knocked on a door. "Hello, I'm here to collect the rent." No answer. She pushed open the door. Suzie Kokosha was heard yelling,

"Oskar, how could you? That money was for groceries! How are we supposed to eat now?"

"How 'bout take out?"

"OSKAR!"

Oskar found his way to the door. "Well, hello Little Girl, how may I help you?"

"I'm here to collect rent." Helga repeated.

"Ok, that's great." A thick book came flying and Oskar ducked. "But you see, we are busy right now. My wife Suzie, she doesn't like take out…"

"I like take out, Oskar!" Helga could see Suzie getting ready to chuck a large ceramic ashtray across the room. "We don't have money for take out because you spent it at the race track! I swear, Oskar, this is the last time you do this!" The ashtray flew into the doorframe, shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Ok, then, I'll check back later." Helga rolled her eyes. "What a pair of nut jobs." She turned just as a large pot flew through the door and struck her in the head. "Oof!" Helga found herself face to face with the carpet. Oskar and Suzie continued to argue without notice.

"Criminy, what else could go wrong?" Helga mumbled into the rug.