MIKE NEWTON, THE KING OF EMBARRASSMENT
All rights go to Stephenie Meyer ©
Name of chapter: Fartbags
Rating: K
Summary: There's a reason why Mike hates farting.
-8-8-
I'd like to think I'd never do a gratuitous fart joke.
-Harold Ramis
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Character Point of View: Mike Newton
Settings: Newton residence
Time: Two days later.
I was sitting in my room. Mom had grounded me for two more weeks. I sighed before I got up from my bed.
"Mike!" Mom yelled from the living room. I rolled my eyes.
"Coming, mom!" I replied, just as loudly.
I went to the living room where she was sitting in, watching some silly opera.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Go and eat your dinner!" she growled at me. "And go straight to bed at eight! AND NOT A MINUTE LATE!"
I bit my lip and stomped my way to the kitchen. Yeah, yeah, I know how immature that stomping thing made me look. I found my lunch and sat down at the table, and began to eat. As I ate, my mind went back two days ago.
I was walking up the stairs when Mom called me to the living room. Nervously, I went there, and found Mom and Dad on the sofa. It wasn't quite the scene I had imagined up.
"Michael," began Dad. "I think we need to have a talk. Man-to-man."
Then he turned to Mom. "Karen, would you mind calling Jenna Stanley? I'm sure she will want to know whether Michael needs help or not."
My heart almost fell out. Help? Were they going to hospitalize me? Send me to therapy? No-freaking-way!
"Dad, I swear-" I started, but my father held up his hand.
"Don't worry," he assured me, but I didn't feel consoled at all. "We won't send you away."
Mom shot a glance at Dad.
"Tell me?" she mouthed at him. He nodded and patted her hand. She got up and exited the room when Dad turned to me.
"Son," he said. "I need to tell you something."
I turned white. Dad chuckled kindly.
"No, Mike –it's nothing bad," he stated. "Harold –your principal- and I just had a chat. It's nothing at all."
Still, I didn't move.
"Harold thinks you'll be better if we set up a few rules around here," Dad said. My heart fell to my toes.
"Rules?" I managed to choke out.
"Yeah," he said. "Rule one –no TV after six. Rule two –no PlayStation during your grounded times. Rule three –you have to practice Calculus more in the evenings. Rule four –You have to reach school before seven-thirty and last, Rule five –no more embarrassing yourself."
My eyes bulged. They were awful rules! How could I follow such horrendous rules?
I sighed again and scratched my head. I forgot that I was eating with my bare hands, and the salad which was in my hand was smeared all over my previously clean hair. I sighed again. I would have to take an extra shower tonight. Not a good thing, since it was wintertime now and I would be frozen in the shower.
-8-8-
Setting: School
Time: The next day
I walked to my class, while Tyler and his dumb goons followed me. Pooh. I turned around and scowled at them. Since I was walking backwards, I ended up banging my head into an open locker door. Seriously, why were those damn locker doors following my head all the time?
-8-8-
Character Point of View: Emmett Cullen POV
Setting: Class
Both Alice and I had decided to prank Newton. The plan was to slip in a 'fart-bag' (as I called it) on the seat, and boom! You get in a lot of fun. The 'fart-bag' would absorb air and when pressure was applied on it, it would let out a totally awesome and rib-breaking fart-like sound. It was one of my favourite tools so far. Jasper's part in this little game was to slip in the fart-bag before Newton sat on it. After it let out the air, he would snatch it back. Cool, isn't it? Alice's part was to do nothing. She was the mastermind of this prank, after all.
I glanced at Alice, behind me. Newton was to sit in front of Jasper, while Rose and Edward stayed out as usual.
Alice was literally bouncing in her seat. Woah, that girl's way too hyperactive, I tell you.
"Shh," I whispered.
Her bouncing slowed gradually.
Finally, after what seemed ages, Newton arrived. He was a bit late. His eyes were unfocused, and there was a bump on his head. Hmm… Maybe someone finally snapped and clonked him on the head? He finally sat down, but Alice or Jasper didn't move. I glared at them and Alice looked at me.
"Why aren't you putting the bag under him?" I muttered.
Alice shook her head. "No, after the teacher comes, we'll put it there," She replied in the same tone.
I sighed and leaned back. Man, I was bored. I couldn't display my strength here so I decide to ask Edward something. Mentally, of course.
Hey, Eddie,I thought.
He stiffened. I knew he hated the nicknames.
Eddie, you mind helpin' me out a little?
He turned his head to the left and to the right. He was saying no.
I faked a mental sigh. Very well, Eddie. I'll have to destroy your precious piano.And with the last word, I conjured up a very appealing image of his destroyed piano. He swallowed. He meant yes.
So Eddie, you mind telling me what's swimmin' in that pea-sized brain of our local friend?
He inhaled. "Rosalie Newton. Alice Newton." He said under his breath. Jasper and I froze.
A snarl was weaving its way through my throat. I clenched my teeth.
Maybe that Newton idiot really was having mental problems. Just one tiny knock on the head –he probably wouldn't feel anything at all. I would do anything to remove the gross thought that Rosalie was his from his walnut-sized brain. I leaned forward. The idea was becoming more appealing each second.
Something hit me on the head. I turned around and glared ferociously, at the guy behind me, someone called Rob Sawyer. He cowered in his seat at the intensity of my glare.
"Did you or did you not hit me, punk?" I growled at him. The now-shaking boy shook his head and pointed at Alice, who was grinning. Jasper shot me a smirk, and Eddie and Rose both rolled their eyes. Wow. Just wow. I wondered how the most volatile members of our family managed to do that.
What?" I said.
"Hey, don't get all irritable grizzly on me –but I saw Mike Newton being carted off to the emergency room with a cracked skull, and you surely don't want to be chased out of the continent by a mad Rose, do you?" She said this all so quickly that no one except my siblings heard here.
I sighed in disappointment.
"Fine! It's not my fault that that pervert can't control his hormone-filled thoughts," I muttered inaudibly.
"Says the guy who constantly teases each one of us about our sex lives," Alice whispered back. Hmph.
The teacher still wasn't back yet. Seriously? We're supposed to come here early, and yet, the teacher can't bother to lug his sorry ass all the way to school a few minutes early? How hypocritical.
After, like, twenty minutes –the teacher Mr. O'Leary stalked into the room, sweating like a total pig. The entire class stood up.
"Sorry, guys," he panted like a dog, and he dabbed off sweat from his fore head with a hanky. "One of the wheels of my car popped out."
That would have been fun to see. Just then, I saw that Newton was going to sit down. I held my breath.
Before Newton sat down, Jasper leaned forward at lightning speed –speed so fast than none of the humans in the room caught the movement, and he put the fart-bag on the seat, just before Newton's ass plopped down on it.
The fart-bag let out an explosive sound.
RRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRRRRR!
Everyone in the class froze. No one moved.
Oops! I didn't know that it was so loud. But it was too late and I had to play my part now.
Edward, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper played their parts perfectly. I took a breath, before exhaling under my breath.
"Eww! What the hell is that horrible smell?" I yelled loudly, theatrically plugging my nose. "It smells like a freakin' landfill!"
Jasper pulled out the fart-bag from under Newton at vampire speed, and Newton fell back on the chair with a loud "THUNK!"
Alice and Rose were trying to stifle their hysterical giggles, while Newton was ketchup-red. Mr. O'Leary –the teacher, snorted.
"Mr. Newton," he exclaimed. "Did you actually fart?"
-8-8-
Character Point of View: Edward Cullen
Everyone burst into fits of laughter. This was the fifth time in this month that Newton had been embarrassed publicly. The thoughts of the students were loud like a waterfall and they were hard to drown out.
Good god, Mike Newton has embarrassed himself again!
Wish I had my camera with me…
I certainly don't want to be Mike now! I mean, he farted for heaven's sake!
I can't wait to tell Mrs. Newton!
Newton himself was shaking with embarrassment. Mr. O'Leary stormed forward and grabbed Newton. He led him outside the room. The teacher himself was furious, and a string of profanities ran through his mind like water. I knew the teacher wasn't going to punish anyone–just give the Newton boy a good talking-to about behaving in class. Nothing bad at all.
Well, thought Alice. That went well, didn't it?