Disclaimer : I did try to get the rights to The Breakfast Club, really, I did. John Hughes and I engaged in an epic battle, my light saber against his.

…Unfortunately, since his light saber was more expensive, thus more high tech and shiny, he defeated me and my plastic piece of junk that I bought at a garage sale. So, until we meet again, I only own Connie, Nick, Sean, Daf, Kyle, and Gus the grumpy janitor.

A/N : and just to tell you now, this chapter is gonna be a bit longer than the previous chapters.

Chapter 12 : Messing With The Bull

Connie entered the library first, Daf followed mutely, and Gus stepped in last, the door shutting behind him.

"Alrighty…" he muttered, with a smile, "who's next?"

Nobody raised their hand to volunteer, so Gus just shrugged and scanned the room, looking for new victims, er, participants.

His gaze landed on Kyle, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, someone's cell phone started ringing…..to the tune of "Buttons" by The Pussycat Dolls.

The five teenagers glanced around at each other, trying to figure out whose cell phone it was, when suddenly, they all looked to the front of the room….to see Gus blushing furiously as he answered his phone.

"I'll be right back!" he called over his shoulder, as he walked hurriedly to a far corner of the room, behind the librarian's desk.

"Hello?" he answered as the five teens tried to control their laughter, so they could hear his conversation.

"Gus!" screeched the female voice on the other end. "Gus, ya gotta come home!"

"Sweetie, you know I'm workin' today!" said Gus.

"Gus, the water heater exploded!" screeched his wife. "Ya gotta come home now! There's water everywhere!"

"Alright! Alright, baby, calm down, I'm on my way right now!" Gus assured her. He snapped his phone shut and walked back over to the five teens.

"It seems that I have to go home, right away," he told them.

"Booty call, eh, big guy?"

"Shut your trap, Harrison, and wipe that damn smirk off your face, you just got another detention," snapped the disgruntled janitor. "No, my house is apparently flooding and my wife is going into hysterics, so you probably won't see me for the rest of the day!"

They all cheered.

"BUT…" Gus continued, "that doesn't mean Mr. Vernon won't be watching you."

Suddenly, the cheering stopped, and was replaced with silence…then Nick spoke up.

"Couldn't we come with you?"

Then everybody spoke up.

"It would be a perfect way to spend detention!"

"I do yoga with my mom, I could calm your wife down!"

"My water heater's gone kablooey before, I could help ya!"

"You don't really trust me alone with Vernon do you?"

"He's old! What if he croaks and you're not here? What the hell are we supposed to do?"

"Everybody SHUT UP!" Gus hollered.

Suddenly the library door banged open.

"What the hell's going on in here?" barked Mr. Vernon. "Gus! You're supposed to be helping me discipline these kids, not rile them up! This is detention, not a damn house party!"

"…House party? Alright!" Nick cheered. "Who brought the brewskies?"

"Well, don't look at me, I was only told to bring the punch bowl," said Connie.

"Yeah, and I brought the chips and dip, Nick, YOU were in charge of the booze!" Kyle replied.

"Ohhhh…so that's why I had such a bad headache this morning!" said Nick.

"All of you, can it!" Vernon bellowed, then he glared at Nick. "…And YOU, Harrison…! You're in enough trouble as it is when it comes to alcohol on school grounds!"

"Yes, but sadly, not enough trouble to get in the school paper!" Nick replied. "Sorry sir, but it's always been my dream to make the headlines one day."

"Oh, you will be, Harrison!" Vernon told him, "when they put you away in the State Penitentiary!"

"Forget it, then I'd just end up being somebody's wife!"

"Well, you do have very pretty eyes…."

"Andrews! Not another word outta you, either!" snapped Vernon.

Gus sighed and finally spoke up.

"Mr. Vernon, I'm sorry sir, but I've gotta go home right away."

"What? What for?"

"My wife called and said that our water heater exploded, I'm sorry sir, but she's getting hysterical."

"…After years of being married to you? I don't doubt it," Daf muttered.

"What was that, Miss Pearson?"

"Nothing, Mr. Vernon."

Mr. Vernon groaned as he turned back to Gus. "Alright fine," he said. "Go home and calm down your old lady, but I wanna see you back here next week!"

"I think he said that to me last week," Nick told Connie, just as Gus was leaving the library.

Vernon glared at Nick again. "Harrison, shut up!"

Nick feigned a look of hurt. "What," he said, "not even a 'please'?"

"I'm the God-damn principal!" Vernon barked. "I don't have to say please to any of you dickheads!"

"I gotta hand it to ya sir," said Nick, "I mean, you must be pushing 70, and you've still got the attitude of a 40 year old Army colonel."

"And the body of a Neanderthal," Connie muttered.

"What was that, Bender?" hissed Mr. Vernon, saying her last name like it was made of sludge.

"Well, sir," said Connie, "I was just wondering if you were referring to both the boys and the girls of the group as 'dickheads', since Daf and I don't actually possess that part of the male anatomy."

"Boy, are you ever missin' out!" said Kyle.

"ANDREWS!"

"Aye?"

"Detention!" Vernon bellowed.

"Uh, sir…" Sean finally spoke up, "he's already in detention."

Vernon's eyes turned to slits as he looked over at Sean. "Congratulations, Mr. Dawson, since I have a no – tolerance policy for backtalk, you'll be joining Mr. Andrews and Mr. Harrison for detention next week!"

"Well, that saves me the trouble of using the phrase 'same time next week?' at the end of the day, thanks Mr. Vernon!" Nick commented.

"Shut UP, Harrison! All of you just SHUT UP!" Vernon exploded, then with a shaking, angry hand, he pointed to the exit.

"Now, my office is just across the hall, so if you do ANYTHING, I will hear you, and I'll come back in here, and if I have to come back in here, I am cracking skulls!" he bellowed.

And with one last lingering glare at the five teenagers, he left the library.

As the library door slammed behind the angry principal, all five teenagers saluted.

"That man," said Nick, "is a brownie – hound."

Confused, Sean looked over at Nick.

"What the hell is a brownie – hound?" he asked.

Nick shrugged.

"I dunno," he said, "I heard it somewhere and it just kinda stuck with me."

Then realization came over him.

"Oh yeah!" he said, "I read it on the bathroom wall once!"

Forty five minutes later, the teenagers were still in the library, having been not been given any new chores to do from Mr. Vernon.

"So," said Kyle, who was sitting on top of his desk, "ya think Vernon's just gonna keep us in here for the rest of the day?"

"That sounds like a fair punishment," said Nick, leaning back in his chair "…making us suffer by giving us free – run of the library."

"He's a senile old man who just doesn't give a damn," muttered Connie, once again on top of her desk, "which is fine be by me."

"A senile old man who just doesn't give a damn…" Nick repeated, "damn, that's what I wanted to be when I grew up."

"You'll never grow up, Nick," said Kyle, "remember? That's what you've been saying ever since we were four."

"Ah, yes…." Nick murmered, then glanced over at Connie. "Peter Pan was the one who made me realize my dream."

"A guy with a Peter Pan – complex…great," muttered Daf, "because the world has so few of those already."

"OK, but getting back to the point of the conversation…" said Kyle.

"There was a point to this conversation?" Sean asked.

"Shut it, Sporty Spice, and let the real man talk," said Nick.

"Thank you," said Kyle. "Now as I was about to say…if Vernon is just gonna keep us in here for the rest of the day, what the hell are we supposed to do?"

"Just stay in our seats and shut up," muttered Sean.

"OK, Mel C has voiced her suggestion…anyone else?" asked Kyle.

"Fuck off, loser!" Sean snapped.

"Shh, you already had your turn!" Kyle told him. "Now, anybody else?"

"Well, it is a library," said Connie, "we could…read, or something."

"Oh, Connie," muttered Nick, shaking his head. "Connie, Connie, Connie…dear, sweet Connie, that's not a solution, that's a worst – case scenario."

"OK, then," said Connie, propping herself up on her elbow, "what's your great idea?"

Nick shrugged. "I'm still thinking," he said.

Connie frowned. "Well, then what the hell are you pickin' on me for?" she asked.

"I'm not picking on you!" Nick told her.

"I offered a suggestion and you shot it down, when you had no idea whatsoever!"

"That's cuz I'm still thinking!"

"Oh my God, they're arguing," mumbled Kyle, grinning "…I think I love this."

"Reading in a library is not that far – fetched!" Connie continued.

"But reading during detention is just dumb!" said Nick. "Cuz you're already in detention, meaning Vernon already hates us just for being in here, so why not live up to the low expectations?"

Connie frowned in confusion. "Meaning, what?" she asked.

Nick smirked.

"Meaning we have a little fun," he said, then he glanced over at the librarian's desk and something caught his eye. "And I know just the way to do it."

In his office across the hall, Mr. Vernon was leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, doing his best to try and fall asleep.

But he just couldn't get his mind off the five co-habitants of the room across the hall.

"Miserable little pricks," he mumbled to himself, "it really is a wonder why I haven't retired yet."

Suddenly, his eyes opened and he found himself gazing down at the bottom drawer of his desk….the only drawer that had a lock on it.

He pulled open the top drawer and took a small gold key out of it, and was about to unlock the bottom drawer, when the phone rang.

With a sigh, the old man dropped the key back into the top drawer and reached across the desk to grab the phone.

"Richard Vernon," he greeted gruffly.

"Mr. Vernon?" the voice sounded unfamiliar and very nasal, like that Fran Drescher woman he hated so much.

"I just said that was my name, yes," snapped Mr. Vernon. "Now, who is this and what do you want?"

"Keep your pants on sir!" replied the voice. "Oh, but if your pants aren't on at the moment, I can certainly call back at a later time."

"Just never you mind about my pants, asshole!" snapped Mr. Vernon, "who the hell are you?"

"Mr. Vernon, this is Eugene from Shermer Pharmaceuticals," said the voice, "I just called to let you know that your shipment of Viagra just came in."

Mr. Vernon's eyes widened. "My WHAT?"

"Your shipment of Viagra, Mr. Vernon," repeated Eugene, "y'know, you came in here last week and ordered that extra large shipment? Remember?"

The principal's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell is this?" he hissed.

"It's Eugene, sir."

"Like Hell, it is! Who are you?" the old man roared.

"- Oh, sorry sir, I've gotta go, there's some guy here who's havin' trouble finding the Preparation H!" said Eugene, who quickly hung up.

At the sound of the dial tone, Mr. Vernon groaned in frustration, then a sudden thought occurred to him as he looked towards the door to his office.

He rose to his feet and walked across his small office, banging open the door and stalking across the hall to the library.

When the library door banged open, all five teenagers looked up in surprise.

Mr. Vernon glared as he surveyed the scene before him.

All five of them were sitting at their desks, in the same seats they'd been sitting in when they first arrived that morning.

"Problem, sir?" Nick asked.

"What's going on here?" the principal growled.

The teenagers all glanced at each other and then looked back at Mr. Vernon.

"Nothing, sir," said Sean. "We were just sitting here, like we're supposed to."

Mr. Vernon snorted. "Yeah," he said, "I've heard that line before." (A/N and if you remember, HE HAS! Originally, Molly Ringwald said it.)

"Is something wrong, sir?" Connie asked.

"Probably," Mr. Vernon muttered, then with one last glance around the room, he turned around and left the library.

When the door slammed shut, Daf and Connie started to laugh, but Nick shushed them.

He then looked at his watch for a moment, then smiled. "OK," he said, "go ahead, he's in his office by now."

And they all burst out laughing as Nick handed Connie back her cell phone, and Connie took the small business card from Nick that he'd been holding.

She smiled as she read it over. It came from a small plastic holder on the librarian's desk, and had the name Shermer High School on the top, with Head Principal : Richard Vernon below that, and just under his name was 555- 8764.

…The school's phone number.

Connie smiled as she glanced over at Nick.

"You crafty little jackass, you," she said.

Nick smiled back.

"We'll wait about ten minutes, then you can have your turn," he said.

Forty five minutes later, Mr. Vernon had gotten five more phone calls. One from an Irish woman advertising for IHOP ; the Irish House Of Potatoes. Another from a Swedish stripper claiming she wanted her money, a third from Al Capone, calling from beyond the grave, and offering to help him take care of the Swedish stripper. Ten minutes later came a call from John Madden, and after that, yet another call from Eugene, claiming that he needed to come and pick up his Viagra soon, otherwise the price would go up.

With a cry of frustration, Mr. Vernon unplugged his phone and threw it across the room, then he put his head down on his desk and moaned, pitifully.

It was days like these that he really, really wanted to retire.

Yes, I know it's been a while since the last update, but hopefully was worth the wait.

Oh, and the mention of John Madden (NFL legend) was a sort of treat for a few friends of mine.

Also, I wanna wish a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my friend Mockingbirdflyaway who's having a birthday this saturday!

REVIEW!

- Ace's Buddy