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Me: LOL, this fic makes absolutely no sense, and yet, it makes sense.

Matt: That made no sense.

Me: Which is why it made sense!

Matt: But if it made no sense, how could you be making sense about making sense?

Me: Because if I don't make sense about making sense about making sense, it makes sense because....IN THE PROPHECY SO IT IS WRITTEN.

Matt: OHHHH BECAUSE IT IS WRITTEN! I see.

Mello: -_- Idiots. Misseh doesn't own Death Note or its characters.

Me: I do own Instructor Jake, though, and all his ribbon-y goodness ^^

Matt: What about the other guy?

Me: You can keep him. He's too yell-y.

Mello: Picky woman...tsk.

Me: DON'T WORRY, MELLO. YOU'RE JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF YELL-Y FOR ME! :D

Mello: Well, praise the heavens. -_-

Me: YAY You agree! xD

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Drivers ED

Original Author: MissehKeehl (me xD). Enjoy!

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"You do realize you were going 80 when the maximum limit was 45, correct?"

"Ch'yeah, officer."

"And you also realize you just crashed into a lamppost, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Children play here, sir! What if this lamppost happened to be a person?"

"Well, then I'd go in reverse to be sure I hit the target."

"You must think you're a smart feller, huh?"

"Nah, but I think you're a fart smeller!"

The officer's face became beet red as he angrily slapped a ticket in the obnoxious teen's face. "This is your fine, punk. In addition to this, you are required to take sessions on road rage and Driver's Education once again. You could use a lesson in manners, too, but I'm in no authorization to prescribe that. The tow truck should be here in an hour."

Matt's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "W-What? I have to take classes?!"

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"FUCKINGCOPWITHHISSTUPIDCLASSESDIE!" Matt shouted incoherently as he slammed the door to the old apartment closed. Mello smirked bemusedly at his friend's angst, watching from the couch as the redhead proceeded to kick a wall.

"Let me guess, you got busted for speeding?"

"And hitting a lamppost. It sucks because now I have to attend stupid classes for "road rage." I mean, how retarded is that?! It's like therapy but based on cars."

Mello snorted, trying desperately not to laugh at Matt's predicament. "Yeah, I feel your pain. Good luck with that."

Matt's head nearly made an entire 360 degree turn towards Mello, a frightening smirk on his face. "Oh, you mean good luck to us. I'm not going through torture alone, and if there's anyone I know who needs help with road rage, it's you, Mello Yellow.

"YOU BASTARD, I'M GONNA-"

"Come!"

"….Dude, Matt, what the fuck was that?! You're sick!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist…."

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Therapy: Part I

Matt sat hunched in his chair, pouting distastefully amidst a circle of people who were just as pissed to be in the class. Many eyes averted the gaze of Mello, whose angry aura was so strong flames could practically be seen in the background behind him.

"Good morning!" greeted a cheerful instructor as he twirled into the room, ribbons flying out of his hands as confetti.

Kill me now, Matt loathed as the instructor took his seat, crossing his legs very femininely.

"Hello, everyone! Call me Instructor Jake! Today, we are going to start a week long sort of "therapy session" to find out the source of all your road rage, okee?"

The rest of the group glared daggers at the gleeful instructor, crossing their arms almost simultaneously in response.

"Um, okee….How about we start by introducing ourselves? In case you're hard of hearing, I'm Instructor Jake, and I loooove ribbons, the world, and all of you! Now, we'll go around the circle introducing our names and a little about ourselves. Let's start with…you there! The redhead!" Instructor Jake said, pointing at Matt enthusiastically.

Matt groaned, slowly standing up from his seat and facing the circle. "My name is None-Of-Your-Business and I don't like any of you."

"Aw, come on now! Be serious!" Instructor Jake encouraged, pouting in disappointment. Matt sighed, taking in a breathe to control how much he really wanted to take the guy's head off but couldn't.

"My name is Matt. I like games, cigs, and driving fast in my baby."

"YOU RIDE AROUND ON AN INFANT?!" a mustached man in the circle cried out, standing up with his hands thrown up in the air.

"Please, sit down! You must've misunderstood him. He means his car, sir," Instructor Jake explained, putting a hand on the shoulder of the mustached man. He sat down cautiously, glaring at Matt while he mouthed "I'm watching you."

"Okay, now….you! The blonde lady in leather, introduce yourself!" Instructor Jake said innocently while Matt tried to contain his uncontrollable laughter. Mello clenched his fists, glaring so hard at Jake that Matt swore he could see heat vision coming from the chocoholic's eyes.

"My name is fucking Mello, and I have a dick."

"Mello, we do not curse here in the Circle of Friendship! We are here to help solve each other's rage problems, not instigate it! I will ask you to please sit in the Naughty Corner and calm down!"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU PRICK?!" Mello seethed, standing up from his chair. Instructor Jake winced, reaching behind his chair and pulling out a….spray bottle?

"Bad Mello! Bad! Go to the Naughty Corner!" Instructor Jake commanded, spritzing Mello as though he were a misbehaving cat. And, just as the previous statement implied, Mello fled to the Naughty Corner, shaking his hair from the water with a scowl on his face.

"Terribly sorry for the interruption…let's continue introducing ourselves!"

And so, Matt sat back in his chair, counting the cracks in the ceiling and not bothering to listen as Instructor Jake picked out poor suckers to put a name to a face. When everyone had introduced themselves, Instructor Jake clapped his hands together in satisfaction, smiling widely.

"Okay, now that we all know each of us by name, let's begin the session with opinions. Let's go around the circle and ask why each of you think you have road rage, and then get feedback, okay?"

Instructor Jake turned to Matt, tilting his head with a smile expectantly. Matt sighed, looking through his goggles at the group who stared just as expectantly back at him.

"I'll have you know I have no idea why the hell I'm here. Cop just got his panties in a bunch when I had a little fender-bender with a lamppost. I drive just fine….the cop was just being a dick…"

"Hmmm….Interesting choice of words, Matt. Is 'dick' supposed to be an insult to him?"

Matt snorted, rolling his eyes at the instructor's stereotypical therapist-like behavior. "Let me guess, next you're going to ask me how that makes me feel. Of course it's an insult, and I think everyone knows that."

"Is it really, Matt? Or is it just you who finds it to be an insult? You know, most people find things that they find to be revolting to be insults. Do you find dicks revolting, Matt?"

"….What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Perhaps your fear of dicks is what fuels your road rage!"

"WHAT ARE YOU-"

"Why do you hate penises so, Matt? Is it perhaps you're afraid of what you'll become if you admit to liking them?"

"Yes, Matt, do tell!"

"SHUT IT, MELLO. DON'T ENCOURAGE HIM!"

Instructor Jake put a comforting hand on Matt's shoulder. "We are in the Circle of Friendship, Matt. We will not judge you!"

"I don't care if we are in the Square of Hatred, you are one crazy son of a-"

"Oh, dear Matt, do not fear the dick! Embrace your fears! Embrace the dick!" he shouted happily, throwing his hands in the air and swaying from side to side.

"Embrace the dick! Embrace it! Join me, everyone~!" he encouraged, and suddenly the entire circle was joining hands and chanting with Instructor Jake.

Mello huddled more into the corner, trembling a bit. He and Matt shared the same "WTF" face, watching as the room chanted about a man's…. "jewels" until the therapy session for the day was over.

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Therapy: Part II

Matt groaned as Mello punched him repeatedly in the ribs to wake him up the next morning. The gamer smacked his glove in Mello's face for revenge, only to earn a mouthful of chocolate wrapper in return.

"MMPH! Vhat the fook foo vant?" he mumbled, yanking the wrapper from his mouth.

"We have that stupid Road Rage class, remember? Move your ass or we'll be late."

Matt scoffed, turning over to go back to sleep. "I sure ain't going back there again. I mean, for what? The only thing I learned is that I have some inexplicable fear of balls, and everyone there has completely lost their mind."

Mello put a finger thoughtfully to his chin. "Huh…guess you're right. By the way, the computer has been yapping about 'You got Mail' all morning. You better check it before I chuck it out the window."

Matt sighed, rolling lazily out of bed and walking to his computer. He clicked on the first and only new email on the list.

"? Who the hell is that," Matt mumbled, clicking on the link.

Dear Matt,

Guess who? xD I did the liberty of finding some pictures of you-know-what to help you get over your fear! The more you expose yourself to what you're terrified of, the faster you'll get over it and find the solution to your road rage!

You're welcome!

Matt's eyes widened to the size of saucers when he saw what photos were attached to the email, and he threw the computer mouse at the screen as though it were the spawn of Satan.

"GOD, MELLO! MAKE IT STOP!" he cried in horror, running to hide under his bed. Mello sauntered into the room, kneeling down to peek under the bed.

"What now, Matt?"

"T-That email…is from Instructor Jake….I t-think he's trying to justify porn!"

"Hmm? Where?" Mello murmured, turning to walk to the computer. His eyes widened beyond their limits as he scrolled down to each picture.

"M-Mello? Is it gone yet? Did you delete it?"

"…Just a minute, Matt."

"Mello, the delete button is right there…"

"I SAID JUST A MINUTE, DAMMIT!"

Ever since the email incident, Matt refused to go to the Road Rage therapy sessions, or even leave the house, for that matter. However, he was required to attend at least two sessions, so by default, he forced himself out of the house one Friday afternoon, dragging Mello along.

When they arrived at the group, the whole "Circle of Friendship" was waiting for them, Instructor Jake all smiles as usual. Matt shuddered and took the seat farthest from the ribbon-loving freak. Mello slouched in his seat beside Matt, both boys waiting for the session to start.

Instructor Jake took in a deep breathe. "Okee, everyone. Since Matt and Mello missed every other class this week, I decided the objective for our last session was to combine all other objectives into one, while having fun at the same time. Soooo, I came up with what I like to call my little Road-Rage Rapid Fire Questionnaire! Let's start with…you, Matt!"

Ugh, it's always me, isn't it? Matt sighed deeply, sitting straighter in his seat. "Whatever. Try me."

"What would you do if someone cut you off? Twenty seconds!"

"Tailgate the hell out of the guy."

"What would you do if a pedestrian walked when it was green for you? Fifteen seconds!"

"Run 'em over."

"What if someone flipped you off? Ten seconds!"

"Run into the punk and show him how much he'll miss that pretty little finger."

"What if someone changed into your lane without signaling? FIVE SECONDS!"

"Follow him until I could slash his ti-"

"HOWWOULDYOUBESTCONDROLYOURROADRAGE? THREESECONDS!"

"I don't feel like-"

"Time's up!" Instructor Jake announced, shaking his head a little sadly at Matt's answers. "I'm quite disappointed, actually. Did you cease to learn anything from this entire experience?"

"I learned that you're just a bunch of freaks, and for some twenty-something instructor, you're really creepy with that ribbon fetish of yours, and you act so infantile that-"

"THERE HE GOES AGAIN!!! TALKING ABOUT BABIES! YOU SICK BASTARD!" exploded the same mustached man from the start of the week. He stood up from his chair, pointing his finger at Matt accusingly.

"…Uh, dude, calm down. He said infantile; that's an adjective, you moron," Mello scoffed.

"LOOK! HE'S EVEN POISONED THE MIND OF HIS FRIEND, THAT REDHEADED FREAK!"

Instructor Jake frowned, pulling out his spray bottle. "Bad Mello! Bad! To the Naughty Corner with you! Shame on you!"

"What the hell?! I didn't fucking do anythi-"

Mello retreated with his hands over his head defensively before he finished his sentence as Instructor Jake spritzed him like there was no tomorrow. He sulked in the corner, making his index finger and thumb into the shape of a gun and pointing it to his forehead, pulling the "trigger" repeatedly.

Turning his attention back to Matt, Instructor Jake smiled a bit. "You know, I believe we can all actually learn from this. Everyone, just remember….Don't be a Matt, and you'll do just fine on the road."

"Don't be a Matt!" the group shouted back in unison.

"Alright! That's all for therapy! Starting on Monday, however, all of you are required to attend the second half of this: the Learning session. Best of luck to you all!"

Ah, shit…this isn't over yet…

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Learning: Part I

"Damn…this is just like back in Wammy's," Matt said, reminiscing as he entered the classroom where he would spend at least two days re-taking Driver's ED. Mello shrugged with disinterest, leaning against the chalkboard with the rest of the group as they all waited for their "teacher" to arrive.

The door to the classroom nearly exploded open when the teacher did arrive. He was tall and muscular, tattoos decorating both his uncovered, bulging arms in an army print tank top. His look practically screamed drill sergeant.

Well, his voice certainly confirmed it.

"MY NAME IS MR. WOMAN," he yelled at the top of his lungs. Matt tried desperately to hold in his laughter, and Mello bit hard into his chocolate, trying to accomplish the same.

"I WILL ASSIGN SEATS. YOU, TOMATO-HEAD: FIRST SEAT, FRONT ROW. BLONDIE CHICK, NEXT TO HIM. MARIO IMPERSONATER, BEHIND TOMATO-HEAD," he barked, and each said person obeyed without protest. Mello didn't even say a thing about being called the "blonde chick".

"FIRST WE WILL GO OVER THE BASICS. THE FRONT SEAT IS FOR? YOU, BLONDE CHICK."

"The driver, obviously."

"THE BACKSEAT IS FOR? YOU, TOMATO-HEAD."

"Hookers."

"TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY!"

"Okay, okay….Sex."

"WRONG!"

"Fine, fine….uh, people other than the person occupying the passenger seat, and minors."

"I bet you like that, don't you, you sicko!" the mustached man hissed from behind Matt, poking him hard in the back with a sharpened pencil. Matt winced, moving his desk forward a bit.

"OKAY, BESIDES STUPID BASICS, LET'S GO OVER WHAT YOU DO WHEN YOU FIRST GET IN A CAR, AND IMPORTANT INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE ROAD."

The next three hours was spent going over all the things Matt already knew, boring the gamer to death. He sat slouched in his seat, the only things taking him out of daydreaming being a poke from the mustached man from behind him anytime something to do with children was mentioned.

"AND THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY. TOMORROW WILL BE ENTIRELY DEVOTED TO QUESTIONS. DISMISSED."

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Learning: Part II

Matt and Mello filed silently into the classroom the next day, fashionably late due to Mello's insisting on the need to stop by Walgreen's for Reese's that were on sale.

"YOU TWO ARE LATE. MAXIMUM PENALTY," Mr. Woman shouted. He pointed a chubby finger at the classroom before him. "STAND UP AND FACE EVERYONE TO APOLOGIZE. SAY HOW MUCH YOU ARE UNWORTHY MAGGOTS ON THE FACE OF THIS EARTH."

"We are both unworthy maggots on the face of this earth," Mello and Matt mumbled simultaneously; half standing, half leaning against their desks. They both seat back down and glared at their husky teacher, waiting for further instruction.

"LIKE I SAID YESTERDAY, I WILL NOW TAKE THE TIME TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS."

The entire room was silent; no one daring to raise a hand.

Except Matt, of course.

Matt waved his hand in the air excitedly, his tongue sticking slightly out the side of his mouth with determination.

"ERM…YES, TOMATO HEAD?"

"Why do they call it 'Red Light, Green Light' if there are no stop lights involved in the game?"

Mr. Woman fell silent, processing his question for a moment. "I'M SORRY, BUT WHAT THE HECK DID YOU JUST SAY?! THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH-"

"But you said you would take the time to answer any questions."

"….I DON'T KNOW WHY. NEXT QUESTION."

Matt's hand shot into the air again as he swayed it from left to right. "Y-YES, TOMATO HEAD?"

"Why do people park in the driveway but drive on the parkway?"

"…THAT'S ANOTHER IRRELAVENT QUESTION. I CAN'T ANSWER IT. ARE THERE ANY OTHER QUESTIONS?"

Matt's hand remained raised high in the air, his fingers wiggling to get attention.

"…ARE THERE ANY QUESTIONS BESIDES WHAT TOMATO-HEAD HAS TO SAY? OH, YES, BLONDE CHICK!"

Mello put his hand down with a smirk. "Matt has a question."

"….I'M AWARE."

"Why won't you answer Matt's question?"

"…….FINE. TOMATO-HEAD, WHAT IS YOUR QUESTION?"

Matt put his exhausted hand down, a wide grin on his face. "How much wood would a Woodchuck chuck if a Woodchuck could chuck wood?"

"OKAY, THAT'S IT. BOTH OF YOU, GET OUT OF THIS CLASSROOM AND NEVER COME BACK."

"Gladly!" Mello and Matt cheered, almost jumping out of their seats. They sauntered right out of the classroom, with no intention of ever going back, feeling as free as ever.

Mello and Matt were walking happily through the parking lot when loud shouts were heard behind them.

"YOU! YOU SICK PERVERT! DON'T THINK I'M STUPID, BECAUSE I'M NOT!" a familiar mustached man shouted, pointing a finger at Matt while he stormed towards him.

"Damn, this guy again? Something isn't all up there, huh?" Matt peeved, shoving his hands into his pockets calmly when the mustached man had finally reached him.

"You're one sick perv, you know that?! Don't think I don't know codenames! What, is 'Woodchuck' some code for 'thirteen year old girl' and 'wood' another name for semen?! YOU DISGUST ME!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Do you find some sort of perverted part to everything I say? Seriously!"

"So you ADMIT IT! I certainly won't get some child molester on the loose, or my name isn't Soichiro Yagami of the Japanese Police Force!"

Matt struggled as Soichiro pinned him to the ground and began putting handcuffs on him. "M-Mello! Help me!" he pleaded, trying to move out of his grip. Mello only looked down on him and shrugged, turning to leave.

"Sorry, man, but I've got better things to do then aid the escape of a sexual offender."

"WHAT?!?!"

Mello chuckled to himself as he walked away, getting onto his parked motorcycle and starting up the engine. Just as he was about to be home free, he swerved to the right quickly to avoid a cat, and rammed right into a telephone poll.

"………..Fuck."