"Those pancakes and that orange juice were absolutely delicious, Peg," said Max, who was wearing his Bud Mask disguise. He and his friend Cy-Croc, in her Awel Caddell disguise, had just finished their breakfast Peg gave them in her massive kitchen.
"Yeah," Cy-Croc agreed. "Thank you so much for the delicious breakfast, Peg."
"You're both welcome," Peg said, as she picked their dirty empty plates. "Oh, can I ask you a favor?"
"Anything for the best host in the whole wide world," Max said.
That compliment made Peg blush. "Oh, thanks. Anyway, on your way to work, can you guys take Pistol to summer school. It's straight on your way to work. Oh, and can you make sure she actually goes in this time?"
Pistol arrived in the kitchen to collect her blue school rucksack. "I don't need help going to summer school, Mom."
"Well, apparently, you do, Pistol, as you can't even enter the building, let alone attend to your studies," Peg snapped. "Not to mention I pay for you to get your grades up."
"That's your problem as it's your money, not mine," Pistol said with teenage attitude.
"It is your problem, Pistol!" Peg shouted. "You wouldn't have even needed to go to summer school if you had studied more in ordinary school! And you will eat the healthy food I give you for lunch. You will not – I repeat, NOT – buy junk food from the vending machine. And you are not wearing those clothes!"
Pistol was wearing a pink tube, tight white shorts and brown sandals.
"Go and get change, quickly!" Peg ordered.
"Fine." Then Pistol was gone again.
Max and Cy-Croc had been watching Peg's and Pistol's argument. They couldn't help covering their mouths with their hands and snigger as they argued. Then they put on their ordinary faces as peg turned to face them.
"See what I mean?" Peg asked Max and Cy-Croc more calmly. "I really don't know what I'm going to do with her."
"We'll make sure she goes into school, Peg," Max said. "We promise."
"Oh, before you go, I got you guys these for lunch." Peg gave Max and Cy-Croc two brown bags and they looked in.
"Wow!" Max cried. "Spinach and ricotta sandwiches, an apple and an avocado salad. Thank, Peg."
Cy-Croc was impressed with the lunch she was given too. "Egg and crest sandwiches, a pasta salad and an apple. How did you know, Peg? You must be a genius."
"Oh, go on with you."
Soon Pistol came back into the kitchen. "Is this better, Mom?" She was wearing a pink tank top, long black pants and white socks in white trainers.
"It's an improvement from what you wore earlier, I'll give you that," Peg said, after she inspected it. "Now, off you go. And thank you guys for taking her."
"No problem," Max and Cy-Croc said.
"And, Peg, I just had to say thank you for the hot tub last night," Max said. "It really helped me sleep better afterwards."
"I'm just glad to help," Peg said, giving him a flirty look. "Good luck on your first day at work."
"Thanks. Bye." Then Max joined Cy-Croc and Pistol in walking out of the house.
"It's not fair!" Pistol moaned as Max and Cy-Croc walked with her to summer school. "I hate summer school! It's boring, I don't learn anything and I don't have any friends over there at all!"
"I take it that you told your mom about it, Pistol?" Max asked.
"Yeah," Pistol said. "And she won't listen. She's always like, 'This will help your education' and 'I'm paying for this, so don't waste my money'. She just doesn't understand me."
"I know how you feel."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I've never been to summer school like you have, but I wasn't a school enthusiast when I was your age."
"But you look and sound very smart and wise, Bud," Pistol said. "And you appear to be a professional lifeguard."
"But I still had to learn it," Max said. "I had to go to lifeguard school. And so did Awel back in a Welsh lifeguard school that I've forgotten the name off."
"I attended a lifeguard course at St. David's swimming baths," Cy-Croc said.
"Wow," Pistol said. "Hey, Bud, do you think I could be a lifeguard if there's one lifeguard school nearby?"
"Well, you are the right age," Max said. "Do you have any problems swimming?"
"No," Pistol replied. "In fact, not only can I swim like a fish, but I can snorkel, scuba dive, surf, jet-ski –"
"Great," Max interrupted, impressed. "Fantastic. If you want to become one, I'll help you find a lifeguard school and you can train after your finish summer school."
"Great, thanks."
Soon they arrived at Pistol's summer school, which was La Sugarville High School. It was a very big one. There were more students attending summer school than either Max or Cy-Croc were expecting.
"Good luck," Max said to Pistol. "Have a great day."
"Thanks, Bud. Bye. Bye, Awel."
"See you later, Pistol," Cy-Croc said.
Max noticed that Pistol gave him one last flirty look before she headed to school.
"Nice job with your past story, Bud," Cy-Croc said as she and Max headed back to La Sugarville Beach.
"Well, you just gave a name and a profession for my character," Max said. "You didn't give me a backstory, so I had to create one."
"No, it was very good," Cy-Croc said. "I'm impressed. Besides, you're really nailing your character. Especially with both mother and daughter having a crush on you."
"Oh, shut up," Max said, as she sniggered behind her metal hand. "So I take it that we haven't seen any of our flaming friends?"
"Not that I can see, for the time being."
"I just thought because this is a very warm day this would be their idea of heaven."
"True, but no. I can't see them at all."
"So, we must be playing our characters very well," Max said.
"Yeah," Cy-Croc agreed. "So, let's keep this up."
Playing this Bud Mask character reminded Max of all the school theatre productions he did such as Mamma Mia, Grease and West Side Story among them when he was back in high school and how much he missed doing it. Then he remembered what the drama teacher Mrs. Backstage told him about how talented he was and how much potential he had to make as an actor in Hollywood or on Broadway. He would have wondered whether he made the correct choices in life if he and Cy-Croc didn't have to answer a distress call immediately after they reported for duty to Captain Shell.