A/N: Sorry about the delay, this is all I got, but I felt I should post something. Hey, life! Whatcha got there? OUCH! OUCH! THAT'S MY BRAIN YOU'RE BLUDGEONING WITH SHARP, BLUDGEONY OBJECTS! R&R plz as I attempt to fight life and its bloodstained metal pipe off.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Plz don't sue me!

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Chad was trying to not pay attention to Maggie, staring at him half of the time and asking people for lighters the other half.

"You smoke?"

"No. I just want to set shit on fire."

"Got it,"

Chad didn't mention that there was no way in hell anyone would give a lighter to the obese chick wearing goggles, partly because he felt bad for her and partly because of the off chance she'd get one, and that would be immensely entertaining for all involved, i.e. the two of them.

You are so gonna be a pyromaniac.

And?

And…you're stupid!

Brilliant retort there.

I know, right?

Right!

Chad was really trying to not think about his situation with Sharpay, because he might start turning tricks out of desperation, and that could end badly in too many ways to count.

Oh, come on! You might get AIDS! Stereotypes for the win!

…I'm not even going to respond to that.

You know I'm right.

Maggie sighed, out of disappointment and rejection.

"Want to go somewhere else?" she asked Chad.

"Sure," Moving would be a distraction. Distraction was good.

They wandered the streets for a while. Chad wondered what people passing were thinking about the two of them.

"Chad?"

"Yeah?"

"You need $150, right?"

"Yeah,"

"I have an idea."

Chad tried to not get his hopes up.

"I'm not becoming a hooker." Chad said.

"Well, that would work too, but this is better."

"Hit me."

"We should rob a convenience store."

Chad snorted.

"Good one."

"Seriously!"

"That would never work! Ever!"

"Why not? Why not?"

"You're not Johnny Depp. And because the only reason you think it would work is because you have 'Ocean's 11' memorized."

"…true. I'm just trying to help."

"Thanks, but I'd rather be publicly humiliated than go to prison."

"You're no fun."

"I know, but still."

Maggie nodded.

A few minutes of silence passed.

"We could kill Sharpay."

"No,"

"We could fill a mafia contract."

"No,"

"We could enter a high-stakes underground poker tournament."

"No,"

"We could enter a dancing contest."

"No,"

"You could make a bet with your friends."

Chad almost said no again, but then he thought about it.

"Like what?"

"Well, you couldn't do one $150 bet, because none of them have that kind of money. But you could do a series of $20 bets."

"The shit they would make me do…"

"Worth it?"

Chad pondered.

"Yes,"

"Okay. We should probably head back to school to put this plan into action. Good. Good." Maggie rubbed her hands together evilly.

"Why are you helping me?" Chad asked.

"I always try to help gay people."

"Well, thanks."

"Of course. Besides, this means you'll owe me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!"

Chad sighed.