Dwicky leaned back in his office chair, arms crossed patiently, watching the youth across from him chipping at her black nail polish. While he was talking, unscrewed the vent with his Handy-Camper pocket toolbox, every vice-principal has one, the sound muffled by his and her voice. At first she stared up at him like a deer in the headlights when he'd opened the door, but then she threw her head back in a groan of frustration. Now though,k she afted as if she was sent down on account of back sassing when really she'd battered another student notorious for being bad-ass and getting caught commmencing in intimate activities on shcool grounts. From what he understood, he'd been caught eight times in teh past month in said activities. Seven of the eight girls where a differant one. One of them had an abortion twice, one once, while another was carrying.

'What was it with these girls that caused them to do this? They know he cheats and drops girls weekly, most of which having to come see counseling, yet, they swoon at the sight of him.' Dwicky pondered.

He leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the desk. Gretchen looked up for a moment before continuing with her nails.

"Do yo know why you're here?" eh asked.

She stopped picking and looked at him loathingly, "No I havent' the slightest."

"Gretchen."
"Because I beat the shit out of Dib."she replied. "Since he doesn't have guts to beat out."she then muttered.

"Gretchen, violance-"

"Is not he answer. Yeah, I know."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, okay Socretes. He had it commmng."

"Was is necisarry?"

"Yee-up."

"You could of spoken to a teacher."

Gretchen tossed down her hands, "You can't be serious! You gotta be new new here. Listen, " she glanced at his name plate, "Dicky" fogetting the W, "Dibs dad is Professor Membrane. THE professors of professors. Bobody gives a detention to the son of the man who gave us sourceless and unlimited energy. 10,000 smackers, and he's back in school, one in the pink in some bathroom." she informed.

"That's against school policy-"

"Dicky, dude, have you walked around the city? Driven?"she glanced away, "Flown?"

"Well, yes."

She raised a brow, "With your eyes open?"

That caught him slightly off-guard.

"Kids live off of weenies, mutant hamsters rampage, radiation deformed childred frolic, sawdust candybars are fed to them, stray dogs out Satens anus, explosive beans, explosions, exposed cess-pool, Michael Jackson running free on the streets! This is not happyville. It's not even Good-enoughsburg. Shit like that doesn't matter."

Dwicky sat back again, his hands dragging across the desk calander.

"And me, I don't have rich kin. I don't have family period." she crossed her arms.

"So, you're an orphan?"

No. That's not what an orphan is! Gretchen though sarcasitaclly. "With a capital O."

"For how long?"

"Childhood, but my grampa just died a few months ago."

"So, is this why you're so, outwards?"

You tell me, you're the counselor, "I guess. I used to keep to myself, but middle school changed people, highschool enforces it."

"Is that all?"

She scoffed, "No. I was a country girl, and now I'm smack in the middle of Villesburg, and the debt is just waiting to pounce on me once I'm of age, dictatitive oafs who like to take their shit out on me, this fuck-bucket we call school, no job, all my animals were either given away or euthenized, better yet, wait for the novel."

"Gretchen, this is normal. There's no need to lash out."

"You're telling me my reason is bogus?!"

"Well, no, but there are better alternetives."

"Like?"

"Well, uh, sports, burning energy and adrenaline, "he suggested, tapping the outside of his hands on the surface of his desk.

"You there's a joining fee, right? Then you gotta pay for usage of stuff." she asked.

"Run around a little?"

Gretchen sat up holding her hands over her knees before slapping them down and looking up at him, " I'm not sure if you've notived, but I'm in school! You know, where they keep uis in little cubes with twentyother obnoxious losesr for damn nearwo hours before moving us to another group of fuck-tards."

Dwicky let his head fall slack. She wasn't an easy one. His head flew back up and opened his mouth to speak.

"Say 'count back from 100, and I swear I'll turn into a lunch lady and staring breathing fire."she inturupted.

He sighed and put his hands flat together. "Gretchen, you need to help me help you. Start by being a little more agreeable." he said, his hands rocking as if he was tisking her.

"Fine. Golly Gee Wilicars Dicky! You sure are swell!" she mocked.

His hands disconnected and one came up to clasp his forhead beneath his curtain of jet black hair. "Gretchen," he began, visably pissed, "if you're not going to be mature about this, then please, just to go the detention room." He sighed, his eyes opened and met hers.

Gratefully she stood and exited, flashing him a nasty look before turning away. He only continued to watch her, undaunted and expressionless.