Disclaimer: Don't own HA! Or the lyrics my "adopted" daughter recited.
AN: Thank you for reading.
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"You sure you don't want to stay over for dinner, Gerald?" Arnold asked his best friend whose reaction was to cringe at the very thought of the idea.
"No offense, Arnold," Gerald declined his offer, "But the last time I had your grandma's cooking my dad kept my allowance money to pay the extra cost on the water bill from me havin' to flush so many times."
"Sorry," Arnold, uncertain how he should react to Gerald's cruel misfortune apologized, then rolled the topic back over to the upcoming concert. "Another think I don't understand about Mr. Simmons' program is why he chose Lila over Sheena for the other solo. Don't you think Sheena should have gotten it? I mean, isn't alto her specialty?"
"Uh, Arnold?" Gerald plastered one of his massive hands to Arnold's forehead. "You feeling okay, buddy? Lila's perfect for the part. She can sing in any key."
"Exactly," Arnold pressed the stereo button on his remote control tuning the radio station into MJAZZ. "That's my point. Lila can sing in any key while Sheena can only hit the higher notes. I don't think it's fair he stuck Sheena in the soprano section with Sid."
"I don't think it's fair he struck me in the tenor section with Stinky, and since when have you not taken up for Lila? I swear, ever since you used my sister Timberly to try and get her to like you like you and it turned into a big fiasco, you kinda seem a little on the outs with Lila."
"It's not that at all, Gerald. I'm not on the outs with Lila. It's just that I'm having some other prob-..." Arnold's grandpa disrupted the conversation, beating the door obnoxiously.
"You in there, Shortman?"
"Yeah, Grandpa. What is it?" Arnold inquired as the gangly old man wearing a white short sleeved shirt and a pair of suspenders to support his brown slacks twisted the doorknob. Upon entering his grandson's room, Phil exhibited a disgruntled expression across his brow.
"Did you forget you cousin Arnie was here, Arnold?" his grandpa interrogated him, "I've entertained the little weirdo for the last three hours. Now it's your turn."
"Sorry, Grandpa. Arnie's so quiet and with the Americans All musical revue this Friday, I completely forgot he was supposed to drop in for a visit sometime this month. I never realized it pertained to this week."
"Well it does. Here comes the little freak now-uh oh." Grandpa clutched his stomach tightly as it churned up an awful gurgling noise. "Gotta run, Shortman. My office is calling me. Never eat raspberries!"
"You mean to tell me your cousin Arnie's here?" Gerald glowered, lacing his arms across his chest. "I'd better be gettin' home. Sorry, Arnold, but whenever he's around, things get craz-..."
"Shh, shh," Arnold silenced his friend, "quick, hand me that bag of dried fruit snacks Grandp left lying over there on the computer desk."
"Oh yeah," Gerald rolled his eyes in disgust, snagging the individual sized packet of dried pineapple and whatnot. "The 'ingredient' boy."
"Hey," a monotone voice acknowledged the both boys, the cousin belonging to it dispensing a rather unpleasant snort to which Gerald shuddered violently.
"Hi, Arnie. I'd love to stay and chat with ya, but...I was jus' leavin'. Here, have somethin' to read on me." He dropped the small bag into the palm of Arnold's cousin's hand. Gerald himself felt a little anxious about the music festival and needed to get home to practice. He didn't want stay here and hang out with Arnie. "I think I hear my mom callin' me for supper. I'll see ya tomorrow, Arnold."
"See ya, Gerald," Arnold sighed, sinking his head into the bright red spongy cushions fo his mechanical couch. Now he mulled over ideas on how to entertain his oddball cousin.
"Ingredients, dried fruit, cranberries, golden raisins, blueberries and tart red cherries, sugar, sunflower oil, sulfur dioxide. Do you have an gum? Plain flavored gum."
Arnie bore a striking resemblance to Arnold, almost betraying an inverse, yet parallel physical appearance to the young lad who'd decided to reprogram his universal remote. While both boys inherited blonde hair form their parents, Arnold's unruly tresses emitted a golden hue as opposed to Arnie's pale, even less manageable locks. He was an unusual character all right, with his inverted football shaped head and inset alternately blinking eyes. Since he resided in a farm community like Lila Sawyer, it seemed only natural he'd don' a plaid button down shirt and blue jean supported by a pair of suspenders similar to Arnold's grandpa's. To complement his bizarre appearance, he wore a small blue carnival hat with a pinning propeller atop its middle. Arnold's classmate Stinky one told him Arnie looked almost exactly like him, but he was, in Stinky's words, "a whole lot uglier."
"I don't have any plain flavored gum," Arnold informed his cousin, reaching for a small brown burlap sack located on the top of the bookshelf, "but here's a bag of marbles for you to count if you want to."
"Sure. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven. I heard you were having a school event on Friday."
"Yeah. It's a multi-cultural music celebration. You wanna come?"
"Will Helga be there?"
"Uh...she'll be there." Arnold couldn't possibly fathom why he'd asked about her. He himself wondered why Helga constantly crept into his own mind.
"'Kay." He'd never learned Arnie developed a crush on Helga during a previous visit to the city.
In attempt to lure Lila's affection away from Arnie, Arnold played the role of Helga's "special someone", but the plan backfired. Instead of attracting Lila's attention, it transferred Arnie's devotion from her to Helga. Everyone knew Lila adored Arnie, but not a soul discovered the reason behind their breakup. The only one who knew the truth about it was Helga since Arnie, to the girl's absolute shock, flat out expressed his love for her. From then on all the kids in Mr. Simmons' class agreed Arnold's cousin was downright lame. All that is, except for Lila.
"Arnie, I'm a little tired from all the excitement at school today, plus I've got a lot on my mind. If you don't mind, I think I'm gonna lie down for a little while." Arnold, genuinely exhausted, crawled into bed and pulled the sheets over his shoulders. "If I get some sleep, maybe my sore throat will ease up. Three days isn't much time to recover from a cold. There's a canister of jawbreakers on the table next to the stereo for you to count if you get bored. Goodnight."
"Night. One, two, three, four, five..." Arnold dozed off at the count of around thirty-six, immersing himself into an alarming nightmare.
"Hey, where is everybody?" Arnold asked an empty platform where all the kids should be singing the show.
"Didn't you hear, Arnold?" a voice almost exactly like Helga's asked. "They all caught bronchitis from you, so we came over here to help you out."
There stood Hilda, dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white long sleeved blouse and a black bow tie encircling its collar. Topping off here sophisticated attire, she'd tied an ebony ribbon around her light blond ponytail, giving her an illuminating presence. Her classmates peered around from behind a cherry red velvet curtain, waiting for the girl to motion them onto the stage. Gerard and Kid, an alternate version of Sid and Gerald clutched to the drapery fiercely while Harry and Rhoda who were basically a slob version of Rhonda and an anal retentive Harold debated over Rhoda's garb. Two other kids, a tiny girl wearing a head full of unkempt black hair and a tall bespectacled boy with a rather large nose lurked a little further behind the stage. The girl reminded Arnold of a dim-witted Phoebe since she had to ask the boy what half the words he uttered meant. What were there names again? Fifi and Stumpy? He couldn't recall. With everyone accounted for, Hilda coaxed her colorful crew onto the empty platform ready to conduct them into a song.
We are joined together
like the roots of a family tree
standing hand in hand
all across this land
in perfect harmony
"Hey, wait a minute," Arnold thought to himself, searching for an absent member of the pleasant Hilda's clan. "Where is Arnie's girlfriend?"
Not that he had anything against Lulu. She reminded him an awful lot of Lila, but Arnold couldn't tolerate here unrelenting advances toward him. He remembered her suggestion of an "ever so private swim", quivering at the experience of this Lila look alike invading his personal space for a taste of his lips. Maybe if it had been Lila herself, he wouldn't have been so reluctant in returning the favor. Then again, that might not have been so great either. If his dreams had been granted, it might not meet his expectations and she'd stomped on his dreams one too many times. His thoughts were interrupted when the group broke out into another tune.
It's a dance sensation
feel it in you feet
move with jubilation
to the Conga beat
Following the leader
up and down the street
we could dance forever
to the Conga beat
"Arnold, get ready," Hilda instructed, "we've changed your solo into a duet. Hit it, Lulu!"
"Lulu!" Arnold balked as a braided redhead wearing a plaid midriff paired with a plaid skirt and white cowboy boots shimmied up to him and began to sing.
"I can Conga, you can Conga," she serenaded Arnold, pressing her chest tightly against his. "Everybody Conga to the Conga beat. Come on, Arnold. Sing it with me!"
"I can Conga, you can Conga," Lulu continued as Arnold barely whispered the lyrics along with her. When it seemed she couldn't get any closer, she crushed down on his chest practically forcing him into a backbend. "Everybody Conga to the Conga beat! HUH!"
Just when he thought it was over, she planted a good one hard on his lips, causing him to cry out.
"AAAAAHH!" Arnold sat straight up in his bed, throwing the sheets off his legs. Arnie sat on the mechanical couch, a blanket covering his lap, staring at Arnold intently.
"Hey," he snorted.
"Arnie, do you happen to know anyone named Lulu?"
"Yeah, she's my girlfriend." Arnie pulled the blanket off his lap to reveal the girl in the flesh, wiggling her fingers at Arnold.
"Hiii, Arnold. How about an oh so juicy wet one?" Lulu puckered her lips.
"AAAAAHH!" Arnold sat straight up in his bed once again, throwing the sheets completely of the bed this time. He observed his surroundings to be sure he wasn't still dreaming. Sunshine broke through the skylight window, letting him in on the fact morning had arrived. Arnie remained seated on the mechanical couch as he had in the dream, still staring intently at the boy. Arnold was growing tired of these strange dreams he had whenever his cousin was around or whenever he thought about visiting him.
"Bad dream?" Arnie asked. He had no blanket over his lap, nor any girl concealing herself beneath it.
"You might say that," Arnold rasped, his throat feeling worse than ever. He'd never been accused of hating his cousin, usually standing up him after everyone else labeled him a loser, but with the recital only two days away and Helga most likely planning who knows what, he needed to find a way to get Arnie out of the picture. A devious smile spread across his lips after he'd thought of a solution. "Arnie, can you do me a big favor?"
"Sure."
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That same morning, on the other side of town, Helga revealed the vengeful plan she'd schemed up for Arnold to her best friend Phoebe.
"Now if I can just get Mr. Simmons to let me be in charge of the costumes, Phoebes, then my entire plan will be a snap. I'll take care of the other business myself," she explained to her as she threw a can of baked beans and a stainless steel spoon into her metal lunch box. "All I gotta do is make arrangements with Sid and Stinky, then Arnold will wish he'd never shoved me into that pool. Heh! Heh! Heh!"
"I have to admit, Helga," the bespectacled Asian American girl who hailed from Kentucky chuckled, "this new conspiracy of yours is even more notable than your seeing impaired act, however, I can't quite comprehend why you're pulling a prank like this on someone you so deeply care about."
"Eh, just so I can torture him," the pigtailed blond grinned mischievously.
"Oh, Helga. You're terrible," Phoebe laughed.
"And because we-huh? Who's ringin' the doorbell this early?"
"Are you expecting your sister Olga anytime soon?" Phoebe asked, knowing Helga's older sister often dropped in from Alaska for surprise visits.
"No. Mary Sunshine charmed us with her oh so wonderful presence last weekend." She was glad the two of them were interrupted since she'd almost let some classified information slip through her tongue. She'd disclose it to Phoebe when she was ready. At the moment, she was dead set on getting her perfect plan to humiliate Arnold underway.
"Helga honey?" her mother, Miriam called pleasantly. She must have had a couple smoothies this morning. "There's a little blonde headed boy waiting at the door for you!"
"Arnold?" Helga raced to the door in hopes her football headed beloved eagerly awaited on the stoop for her. Instead, to her absolute horror, she found the "countrified" version of Arnold standing on her doorstep.
"Hey," Arnie greeted her, then delivered a loud snort.
"Arnie?" Helga entwined her arms together snugly, sending off an even more foul scowl than usual. "What the heck are you doing here?"
"Arnold said he's sorry he couldn't make it walk you to school today, but he and Gerald had some business to take care of. Since I'm in town he figured it would be nice if I walked you to school today."
"Arnold's been walking you to school every Wednesday?" Phoebe lifted her glasses suspiciously. "I thought your mom was taking you to school on-.."
"I'll explain later Phoebes, and you know it's not like-.." she stopped herself in fear of Arnie repeating any or all of her and Phoebe's conversation back to Arnold. "That was really nice of him, Arnie. Now, what's the real reason Arnold asked you to come over here?"
"I told him I loved you."
"What?" Helga's usual pale skin ripened into a deep shade of plum.
Phoebe's small black eyes opened wider than two golf balls upon hearing Arnie's bold statement. Try as she might, she couldn't swallow here oncoming laughter and burst into a giggling fit. So this was why Helga told Lila her encounter with the boy was one twisted version of the story. Bemused by these little tidbits of information, she felt compelled to ask Helga why and how long Arnold had been walking her to school, but felt now wasn't the appropriate time.
Helga herself fumed over Arnie's unusually loose tongue. Why did he have to mention her Wednesday morning walks with Arnold? She and her beloved fell far short from being an item. There was a reason they walked to school together on that day of the week. Sooner or later she'd have to explain herself to her best friend. And what made him tell Arnold, of all people, that he loved her? It seemed Arnie's normal behavior had become questionable. He wasn't a man of many words, nor was he one to spill his guts openly in front of more than one person.
"You mean to tell me, you told Arnold how you felt about me?"
"Yeah," the boy repeated another annoying snort.
Helga wasn't sure if it was her imagination playing tricks on her, bu she could've sworn she heard the distant laughter of two familiar boys she perhaps knew all too well. She clenched her fists, throwing her arms violently into the air.
"ARNOLD! Oh, he's gonna pay for this one! I'll make sure he pays for this one dearly!"
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AN: Thanks for the constructive criticism.
