"Ugh, gross." Arnold Shortman choked and cringed at the sip of the pineapple punch that tickled the back of his tonsils. He shivered before placing the plastic cup back onto the tattered tablecloth of the gym's tables circling the center of the dimming disco ball. Shutting his eyes, he struggled to recall a taste that he treasured, one that would titillate his taste buds without vomiting.

'Helga's chap stick...' The blush blossomed on the blonde boy's cheeks as the taste tingled on his lips from that evening at the end of freshmen year and the vision that he had when he visited her in the hospital. Was it similar? He could envision that if he had one more chance to be able to sample a serving, he could determine the difference.

"Arnold? Are you seriously drinking that piss punch? What are you thinking about?" Gerald Johansson groaned and placed a palm on the shoulder of his best friend.

"Has this been spiked yet? This is awful." Sid agreed with Gerald as he spit the same liquid back into his glass. "I can correct that quickly." He winked before fishing out the flask into his jacket pocket.

"Be my guest, man." Gerald gestured to the pineapple punch bowl on the buffet behind them, and Sid beamed as he brushed past the two men in masquerade. "Arnold?"

"I swear, I wasn't thinking about…" Arnold suddenly startled, until he spotted Gerald in front of him and relaxed before the companion he could confine in.

Amused, the bold, big haired baseball player licked his lips and shook his head for a final disapproval. "Mmm, mmm, mmm. Helga? You have always got your head in the clouds. Or I guess in this case, your dreams."

Arnold flushed at Gerald identifying that he was idealizing about Helga again. He had not witnessed her blonde ponytail at all this evening, and he was convinced that she would come to an appearance tonight. Phoebe assured the two when they were taking pictures that she would attend, but there was no pink glitter or princess anywhere in the school.

"We're at our last homecoming dance, Arnold! The night is young and there is a whole dancefloor waiting for us to conquer. What are you waiting for?"

"His date, duh. Thanks for finding him, Gerald." The slick sliver of Sawyer slithered up between the two besties for her to slide her elbow in between the knight of the night.

Gerald rolled his eyes, and Arnold coughed uncomfortably as he removed his elbow from Lila's clutch. "Lila, I was just getting a drink. I'm not really in the mood to dance."

"We have to dance, Arnold! We have to make our rounds in order to clinch our nomination for Homecoming King and Queen." Exhaling, the football head fought to withstand the conversation or the woman that was sliding next to him. What was the point in participating in this dance to risk suspension if he could not sneak a dance with his marvelous maiden?

"That's if you win." Phoebe Heyedral snickered as she skipped to Gerald and held his hand. "Hi, babe."

Lila snorted as she tensed the grasp on her date's arm. "Well, it's not like there is any competition." She snuggled up on Arnold's shoulder, who immediately tilted his head in any other direction.

"I don't think someone who comes to school dressed as a chicken has any chance to compete at all." Phoebe baited Lila, who narrowed her green eyes at one of her nemeses.

"Come on, babe. Forget about her. Let us go dance. We'll see you later, Arnold." Gerald latched onto the limb of his darling date and led her away from the brewing battle.

"Forgetting! Bye, Arnold!" She was swept under the spell of Gerald's grip on her waist and wiggled their way to middle of the madness underneath the dazzling disco ball.

"Ugh, they're finally gone. Arnold, let us go mingle!" Lila jerked on the resistance of Arnold's reaction, and guided him toward the group of students surrounding the heart of the heat of the dance. Arnold had to swallow his sickness while approaching the other friends and students in his class but understood that he was being undertaken. The football headed star had to rescue Helga from that article that could be released if he did not cooperate. He could not comprehend the guilt that would chase him if he did not protect the girl that has shielded him second after second.

The minutes on the clock by the scoreboard on the wall of the gym only seemed to slow as Arnold continued to check. Student by student, teacher by teacher, Lila led the counterfeit couple around the gymnasium, introducing and chatting. Every time she encouraged their votes for the nomination, Arnold had to contest the craving he had to cave and tell the truth. All he aspired to do was to scream, to warn the individuals around, and to escape to the edge of the gymnasium.

"Are you ready to dance, Arnold?" Lila disturbed Arnold of his beginning breakout, who was eyeing the open doors to the entrance to the gymnasium.

"I'm sorry, what?" He blinked at his disaster of a date, not realizing that she had spoken something to him. He had been tuning her out time after time during the past hour they had conned the senior class.

"Arnold. It is time to dance. I just wish you would pay the ever so slightest bit of attention to me." Hissing, the ravenous redhead drug him to the crowd of disguises dancing, right where the disco ball dangled from the rafters.

"Lila, I told you I really don't want to dance." Arnold positioned both of his hands on her shoulders, slightly pushing into her and enforcing the distance between the pair. "I don't feel comfortable dancing with you."

Lila, angered and annoyed with Arnold's attitude, snuck her hands out of the stance and slithered her lying lips to the edge of his ear. "I would highly suggest that you dance, unless you want an oh so certain article to be published in the next issue."

Arnold, still in Lila's control and clinch, attempted to inhale as she wrapped her hands around his shoulders to sway with him. He could do one more dance, right?

Our protagonist pressed his arms to attach onto Lila's waist, and he could sense the smile and the approval of one Lila Sawyer as she rested her head on his shoulder. His feet struggled to find the rhythm of the music, but he managed to match the pace Lila pushed him to find. She was on the prowl for the position of queen, and Arnold would support that win.

Lila's venomous voice entered his eardrums once more as the melody began to build. "At the end of the song, you should dip me. That will get everyone's attention, for sure."

"If you insist. Lila." Arnold scoffed, and spun her out of his personal space for a breath of air. He could not stomach to be close to her claws. If he dared to come closer, she could trap him for tonight, and then he would lose his last chance.

The tune of the tempo established the edge toward the end, and the lyrics lurked throughout the vibrations of the shaking students. Arnold scanned Gerald and Phoebe, who only winked at him because Gerald was busy gawking at the grinding of his girlfriend. Nadine was giggling with Harold and Rhonda, as the three bounced to the beat. Eugene was struggling to stand on his toes to reach the lingering lips of Sheena. Sid was steaming and starting at Rhonda from afar as he swung with Curly, who kept sliding in between him, at a chance to also achieve a glimpse of self-appointed princess Rhonda. All his elementary school gang were within his stretch, but he could not alert them. By trying to assist Helga, he had doomed himself to an evening of evil.

The song suddenly stopped, and as our football headed friend bent over the bully of one pink princess, Helga G. Pataki stepped into the silence of the stadium with her hand holding one of Stinky Peterson's.

"Helga?!" He called out along the crowd, and surrendered Lila Sawyer to the coldness and the concrete of the basketball court.