May 15th, 1980 in Mobotropolis. A very tired Oxide slept on his less-than-sanitary-looking bed as he was off in dreamland. He seemed rather peaceful, his dreams weren't filled with murder or drug abusing or anything else law abiding citizens think punks dream of, nor was he dreaming of his deadbeat father beating the hell outta him. He was dreaming of a world where everyone got along, a world that hes always wanted to live in as a kid. Now he knows that will never happen, especially when Reagan is now running for office, but he still likes to dream it.

This was all ruined by his alarm clock ringing loudly beside his ear, signalling it was 7AM and it was time to get his punker ass out of bed. He smashed his open hand down against the clock, turning it off as he slowly rose from his bed and looked around the room, trying to get his eyes to focus so he could actually get ready for school. Once he was able to properly see he made his way to the bathroom in his room, he got into the shower and turned on the water and for whatever reason. He loved cold showers, maybe it was cause they helped wake him up in the morning as he would usually fall asleep when 2AM rolled around and his normal waking time was afternoon or dusk.

After scrubbing himself down, he dried himself off before wrapping the now slightly damp towel around his waist as he began to blow dry his hair. After doing so he walked out and got dressed, putting on the typical punk garb such as: Band Tee, ripped jeans, skater shoes, and his leather jacke., he then went back into the bathroom and started spiking his hair again, letting his fingers run through his hair as he bent forward to let his hair fall forwards, letting it set like that so it would stay standing. After spraying it with hairspray to help hold it in place, and blow drying to speed up the process of well, drying, he walked out of his room into the living room.

Luckily, his dad was at the factory, his mom was working in the kitchen. He loved his mom, he really did and he didn't know why she was still with his sorry excuse for a dad. Perhaps it was cause she might, for some reason, still love him, Or maybe shes worried what will happen to her if she decided to run away or divorce him, she could be worried that she will end up beaten, horribly disfigured, or worse if she trys to do such a thing. Oxide sat at the table in the dining room, a plate of eggs and toast were waiting for him along with a cup of orange juice near the plate. He smiled as he sat down and began to eat, eating it quickly before he got up and gave a quick 'thank you' and 'love you mom' before rushing off on his skateboard, backpack on his back and guitar case in hand as he sped off to school.

East Mobotropolis high wasn't a highschool one would go to to get an education, go to college, have a family and get married and have a white picket fence outside of the 2 story house in a nice suburban neighbour hood. It was a school where people would go just because there parents told them too, but usually they would just skip most classes, smoke pot or drink while looking for trouble. Oxide rode up to the school on his Black flag skateboard deck and walked in. Even in a highschool filled with outcasts and outsiders and such, he was still considered a loser. Oxide had grown immune to people calling him 'faggot' or 'cocksucker' or 'punk rock shithead'. It was just white noise at a low volume. Still annoying, but it wasn't gonna kill him if someone called him a name in the hallways.

First class was English, luckily it was bearable as Tristan was in the same class, along with another punker named 'Conner'. No one knew his last name, not even the teachers or the principle. The teacher was nice enough, though she seemed to have a slight racist side to her, she never out right said anything racist, but the way she acted around those of different muzzle or fur colour made it look somewhat suspicious. Especially around those from eastern Mobius, but oh well that wasn't any of Oxides concern. He just wanted to get through this class, get the grades he needed, go to college and have something to fall back on if being a musician failed.

"Alright now everyone turn to page 45, and read through till page 47 please and thank you." The english teacher was writing the instructions for todays class on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. Oxide wrote everything down, read, took notes. Did all of the work and everything he didn't wanna do but kinda had to because bleh. It continued like this until the final period, Music.

This was Oxides favourite, and somehow at the same time least favourite class as he got to play guitar, but it was stuff he didn't wanna play and everyone were pretentious assholes who thought they were gonna be big and looked down upon Oxide and the other punks for being well, Punks. Oxide set up, plugged into the amplifier and sat down, in one of the chairs. The rest of the students were either already in the music room or were filing into said room, they all set up, got their music on the music stands and waited for which piece the teacher wanted them to play.

The teacher, who went by the name Mrs Adams was really nice to Oxide, she knew he was passionate about music and she disliked how the other students treated him. Oxide wasn't a very skilled or talented musician, he knew how to solo on scales, but he only know a handful of blues scales and barely knew any chords besides power chords so if someone were to play a G chord, Oxi would play the barchord varient. "Hey look, its the punker..." One of the guys snickered, looking at Oxide before looking away again as he and his friends laughed, and Oxide just gave them the middle finger behind their backs.

"Why do you even try to play guitar when you suck at it?" One of the other guitarists sneered whos name was Mike, one thing to note is this guy wasn't really any better at guitar than Oxide, but he was good looking so that got him extra points as a musician. "I don't know, why do you try to get girls when we all know your suckin' something else on friday night?" Oxide shot back, the class 'ooooo'd at the comeback, the other was growing agitated. "Least I ain't an actual faggot like you." He spat at Oxide, more ooooo's as if the place was haunted. "I may be a faggot, and I may suck at guitar, but atleast I know I suck at guitar. Unlike you who thought that you were a god and decided to play Eruption and choke infront of hundreds of kids in last years talent show..." Oxi ended with, some of the kids began to laugh their asses off as the asshole kid didn't know what to think of next.

The kid pulled off his guitar and smashed his closed fist into Oxides face, Oxide was not in the mood, so he took off his guitar and started swinging as well. His friends jumped in and started kicking the living shit out of Oxide until the principle pulled Oxide off and dragged him by his ear to the principles office.

"You young man are in a lot of trouble!" The principle yelled in Oxides face, Oxide was waiting for a chance to speak, but there wasn't alot of chances to do so. Not with her screaming at him like he was a mile away where infact he was a few meters away. "Why should I know expel a punker like you?" She asked him, smirking. "Well, I wasn't the one who started it, infact I was-" He was cut off. "I don't care! Detention for a week! If you don't show up, 2 weeks plus the week you owe!" She then pointed to the door, Oxide sighed and got up and left. But once he was out of ear shot, he said. "Fuck you you fucking old bag, you're just mad cause the last time you had sex was in 1915" He said as he went to collect his things.

The school bell rung and Oxide knew that if he didn't show up, she'd just call his parents and if his dad got a hold of the phone then, he'd beat the living hell out of Oxide. So he showed up for an hour long detention in the study hall. 'This sucks' Oxides thoughts said as he scribbled on a piece of paper, mainly doing logos for his band though he really couldn't think of anything to use. A lot of the good logos were being taken by all the new bands cropping up and he needed to think of one before it was too late. He drew an M and then put a line diagonally through it, but it just looked like 2 'Vandals' logos flipped upside down and put together, he had to think of something original.

By the time detention finished, Oxide only had The Methematics in a very scribbly font, it was still legible but he told himself he'd think of a better one as for now he had to get to band practise. He ran out, grabbing his guitar, skateboard, bag and everything else before doing a caveman down the schools front door stair set and skating away. He rolled up to the band house and walked in, there sat the band who were once again waiting for Oxide to show up. "Detention?" Tristan asked in his usual monotone, bored voice as he looked up to see Oxi walk in and plug into his amplifier. "Yah, fucking kids beat me up and I got the fuckin' blame, I hate my principle." Oxide tuned up, pausing at times to speak as speaking and tuning up was hard to do since his ears weren't that good at tuning by ear.

"Whens our next show man?" Napalm asked through a thick cloud of THC as he took a bong hit, passing it to Jason who did much of the same, releasing a thick cloud of smoke into the air. "Yah man, After that police raid, theres no way we're gonna be able to get another show there for a while man. And all the other clubs only allow top 40 cover bands, basically bands that try to look cool but are really just hiding up the fact that they're all losers like us." What Jason said caused the others to laugh out loud a little. "Yah, top 40 shit sucks, its all 20 minute guitar and drum solos with what might as well be a woman dressing and looking like a man with a soggy pickle in their black leather tights." Oxi added, causing the others to laugh even louder. "Fuck, well. Lets get playing, before we lose all motivation to do so and just smoke pot and get drunk." Oxi suggested as he strapped on his guitar and cranked the knobs on his Red, beaten and battered Hagstrom II.

"1 2 3 4

The men in blue walk down the street
They aren't your friends, they're the enemy
Pistol in one hand, donut in the other
Better start running, they already kill my mother

Here come the bacon squad
They think they do no wrong
Here come the donut dogs
Fascist cop, They're all wrong

The men in blue bust down your door
Thought you were safe, you ain't no more
Break your TV, Smash the glass
Better run or they'll kick your ass!

Here come the bacon squad
They think they do no wrong
Here come the donut dogs
Fatass cops they're all fucking wrong!"

Hours of playing went by as the band made horrible noise that would've pissed off all of the neighbours within a 3 mile radius had there been any. All the houses were either vacant, abandoned, or non existent as this was a quieter part of the Neighbour hood that the band practised in, making it perfect for playing with everything cranked to 10 and playing in the backyard at the same noise levels. Only twice have the cops been called and only once was the show shut down, which was good for the band cause it meant more playing and more playing meant more exposure to others seeing their band and more people seeing their band equalled more people possibly becoming fans of their horrible, out of tune, off tempo, ear splittingly loud and fast music that they all created together.

9PM rolled around and Oxi had to get home, so he packed up his guitar, and skated home with his leather jacket on and backpack on his back. He snuck in through the window again and took a few bong hits to help the 16 year old punker sleep, as he would need it again for school the next day, as much as he didn't wanna go. Just Another day...