Title: Knitting? Are You Freaking Kidding Me? Chapter 2

Author's note: I don't even know why I'm posting this. I wrote it months ago after the first chapter and HATED it. But I found it today while clearing out my files and figured what the heck. Love it, like it, hate it, whatever. Let me know what you think. (Just like the first chapter, this one takes place around the first season episode J-Cat while Michael is trying to get the missing blueprints from Haywire).

Michael put his head in his hands and groaned. Wearing Haywire's ugly sweater was bad enough the first time, but after Michael had acted up in class again the following day, he'd been forced to wear another of Haywire's even uglier sweaters – for a whole week! It'd been one week since Martha non-Stewart had made him wear another one of Haywire's purple monstrosities (this time with a hat and ear cozies to match!) and he hadn't been able to live in down since. Crazies had been pointing and laughing at him all week and calling him very undignified names. Looking like some horribly mutated version of Barney the dinosaur had not been favorable to Michael's reputation around the whack shack.

Or so he thought.

"Hey, Michael!"

Michael's head snapped up. "For the last time, I will NOT sing 'I love you, you love me' in d-flat and if you ask me one more time…" Michael's voice trailed off as he noticed it was Haywire.

"No, no! I thought you looked great," insisted Haywire. He plunked his tray down on the lunchroom table and sat down across from Michael. "How couldn't you? You were wearing my best piece of knitting yet!" Oh, my God. Haywire really was insane.

Realizing that few people ever reached the levels of crazy that Haywire probably aspired to, Michael knew he had to play nice. He still needed the blueprints after all. "Yeah, well, thanks," mumbled Michael. He looked down at the piece of I-can't-believe-it's-not-cheesecake! on his lunch tray and hoped Haywire would take a hike into some yarn-forbidden territory.

"So how many compliments have you gotten on my sweater so far?" asked Haywire w/a completely straight face of genuine sincerity.

Michael went numb. As Janice would have said, oh. My. God. How nuts was he to think people actually liked that hideous thing?

Haywire casually stuck a fork in the "cheesecake." "I'm thinking of starting a business selling my sweaters. The knitting teacher loves them so much, she thinks I should go into business! I figured, why not? Beats making 5 cents an hour in PI."

Michael swallowed. What was he going to say? That that crazy loon Martha only complimented Haywire because she had a crush on him? (Michael had spied her before knitting class one day doodling 'Mrs. Martha Haywire' and little hearts on the latest batch of knitting pop quizzes). That wouldn't go over well w/Haywire. NO.

"Er, well, you see the thing is, Haywire…"

"Yes?" Haywire leaned forward eagerly.

"Um, I, well, uh, that is, I really don't think you should be selling your sweaters…"

"And why not?" snapped Haywire. Uh-oh. "What, you don't think they're good enough?"

"No, no, no, that's not it at all!" Michael gulped.

"They WHY wouldn't I want to sell them?" Haywire leaned forward, his eyes glinting menacingly, making him look like Yosemite Sam on LSD.

"Because I-I love this sweater," Michael choked on the word 'love' much in the same way the prisoners choked on the prison cafeteria's brussel sprout pie. "And I don't want anyone else to have a, um, a…Haywire original." If lying was a train to hell, Michael suddenly had a first-class ticket to the deepest tier.

"Really?" Haywire looked touched (not necessarily just by insanity). "You really liked my sweater that much?"

"Oh, uh, oh yes! Yes!" Seeing a prime opportunity to suck up, Michael nodded his head vigorously. "Absolutely! You're the greatest knitter ever, you really are!"

Haywire leapt forward and wrapped Michael in a bear hug. Michael gagged, trying not to smell the powerful Crisco shortening in the I-can't-believe-it's-not-cheesecake! on Haywire's breath.

"Do you know what I'm going to do, Michael?" said Haywire happily.

"Um, no…" Please God, let this mean he'll give me the missing blueprints.

"Well, it's a surprise but," Haywire pulled back and whispered conspiratorially: "Let's just say I know that yellow chenille Fuzzy-Wuzzy yarn is your favorite…"

And Haywire walked off whistling cheerfully to himself, leaving Michael to kick himselfin the most painful place possible.