Ron pushes the cart down the hallway. Any time he is not glancing around for Barkin, he stares right into the face of the Middleton Mad Dog.

Dizzy dames. What were they thinking, sticking me with a shaky rig like this? We could barely keep them all on it, we stacked them so high. The only place for Brick was in my mascot uniform. Out where anyone who cares to look can see him.

Go ahead, take some of his gum. It will help.

Ron takes a stick and starts chewing, all while pushing the dolly.

"It's got you chewing again, Ron-Man.", the mask slobbers at him.

You shut the hell up, Brick. You're unconscious. I'm just imagining this. So you just shut the hell up.

The Mad Dog's spittle leaked ominously. "Tells you somthin' about your state of mind, don't it? Got you hearing things..."

Some of the spray Ron flung at the crowd on game day hit Ron in the face after the cart hit a bad tile.

"Got you...feeling things.", the mascot said as Ron wiped it away. "Your nerve's shot! It's got you chewing, despite saving your palette for cooking and Bueno Nacho. You know it's the truththththsss..."

"Nobody ever really quits. A chewer's a chewer when the chips are down. And your chips are down."

I'm fine. You shut the hell up.

The inanimate mask smiled at him. "Will you look at that! Those cheerleaderspthss let you down."

Ron noticed one of the wheels on the dolly bent at a bad angle, ready to give at any moment.

"What are you gonna do when it snaps? Ask the librarian to borrow hers? Heh heh heh... You goofy sidekick, you. You ain't even gonna make it to Home Ec."

Ron objects vocally. "You shut the hell up. I'll make it."

"Not unless you keep your eyes on the hallway, sugar pie.", the Mad Dog warns.

Ron scrapes a row of lockers with the dolly, jostling the mass of bodies on it.

"Ah, this is great.", the animal tells him as his dead weight slides onto Ron, coating him with more false saliva. "Just like talking smack in the ring on GWA."

"Shut up!", Ron spits back. The boy shoves him back onto the cart.

Then the janitor, an immigrant from Canada, turns a corner in the hall.

"Boy, you're screwed.", says the Mad Dog. The unconscious mascot sits up and pulls out another stick of gum. It chews it voraciously without losing any of the foam leaking from its mask.

"It's over. You're flushed."

This time I can't bring myself to tell him to be quiet. Sure, he's a jerk. Sure, he's knocked out. Sure, I'm just imagining that he's talking to me. None of that stops the thing from being absolutely right. I don't have a chance at dragging the cart faster than his mop bucket.

"Wait a minute, eh?", the janitor tells him.

The only question left is whether or not he's gonna be the first guy not wearing a black gi that learns what Mystical Monkey Power can do. Tough call. He could be some super spy, the type of guy me and Kim fight all the time. Then again, he could just be another minimum wage brother just trying to earn an honest living. The glow creeps into my eyes all on its own. I don't know what to do.

"You'd better stop.", the Mad Dog advises. "You're making him angry."

Ron smirks. "Whatever you say."

The janitor walks up to the stopped cart. The man flips the Brick Flagg filled mascot over on the cart. "That'll keep him from putting too much strain on that bad wheel."

"I see that there's much I have left to teach you, eh?"

The man walks away with his mop bucket.

What next?