As the final bell of the day rings, a huge sigh of relief echoes throughout room 203. Another day of classes is finally done with, and students can begin packing up and moving on to their afternoon routine. But for Paris, that bell tolls for her, offering not the end of the school day, but rather the start of her afternoon torment.
Sophomore year has not been kind to Paris, not since carnies have become public enemy number one. She may be a carnivore, but her physique does nothing to support that fact. After all, she is a Pomeranian, one of the smallest and least intimidating breeds of Canis lupus familiaris. She could hardly beat an arm wrestling match with a rabbit.
Speaking of, she needs to hurry. Maybe today, if she's fast enough, she can evade her predators.
A snide voice speaks up from behind her, and she realizes that once again, that is only wishful thinking.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Paris freezes, one hand around the strap of her bag. She knows that voice belongs to her classmate Dessy, the white llama who always puts on way too much mascara.
"She must be in a hurry to go to the cafeteria." Another voice, this one belonging to Nicole the Jersey cow, chimes in.
The heifer grabs the Pomeranian's arm roughly, snapping her attention to her. "I bet you couldn't wait to hang out with your two besties, right?" Her tone is saccharine but the malice in her eyes is enough to send a shiver down Paris' spine.
"Oh, so that's what it is!" Dessy plays along. "You had me worried there, for a second I thought you wanted to bail on us. But then who would pay for our lattes? You've been so generous!"
The dog's eyes lower to stare at her shoes. "I-I… I didn't bring any money today…"
Nicole sighs dramatically. "Oh, not this excuse again. Remember what happened last time you forgot your wallet?"
Paris flinches. "I mean it this time! I… I'm all out of allowance money. Honest."
The llama rolls her eyes. "I thought you designer dogs were supposed to be loaded. Why don't you ring up Mommy and Daddy for more and the we can get a snack together?"
The two herbies take a step forward, and instinctively, the carnie takes a step back.
"Unless..." The brown cow starts innocently. "You want us to tell the whole school that a savage carnie attacked us two unsuspecting herbies."
Paris calls their bluff. "As if anyone would believe that. You're twice my size."
Suddenly, Nicole grabs the Pomeranian by the fur on her throat, easily lifting her feet off the ground.
"You calling me fat?!"
The dog flails in vain, hoping to wriggle free from the heifer's grip, but only succeeds in shaking her glasses off of her muzzle. She can hear them clattering to the floor beneath her.
"Calm down, Nicky…" Dessy snickers. "If nobody will believe that the little bitch could beat us up… We'll just beat her up if she doesn't give us the money. Right?"
Her friend's words seem to regain her cool, and Nicole tosses Paris down on her desk, whose back roughly collides with the hard wooden surface.
"So true." She smiles. "Well, what are you waiting for, bitch? Call up your parents or we'll rip that fluffy little coat right off of you."
Before Paris could even sit up on her desk, a stern male voice interrupts the conversation.
"Pay for your own coffee."
The three females whip their heads to the classroom entrance, where a gigantic panther stands with crossed arms. The color instantly drains from the two herbies faces.
"You're-"
"Never mind me. Let's focus on you two. How long has this been going on?"
Neither bullies answer, but Paris, who had silently scampered off her desk and far away from them, yelps. "The whole year. Ever since the tiger left."
The other girls glare daggers at the dog. Suddenly, Dessy speaks up.
"W-we're not afraid of you and your little gang, you know…" She announces in a tone both too stilted and too haughty. "Everyone think you guys are freaks, you know! And DAVID…! Everyone in DAVID just laughs at how stupid you are, pulling your pro-carnie stunts, you know!"
Nicole nods along furiously. "Y-yeah! Nobody would take your word over ours! Not even the student council!"
Toma grins. "You're right…"
On cue, Desmond strides in the classroom, holding his smartphone up for all to see. On his screen is an audio recording app, with large white numbers counting every minute, second and millisecond that passes by over a generating audio waveform. With a flourish, his thumb presses the big red button at the bottom, halting the recording.
"But I think they'll believe this."
Horror spreads across the cow and llama's faces just as smugness spreads over Desmond's.
"Pretty cut and dry threats in this recording. And also pretty unoriginal. I mean, lunch money, really?"
"It sounds like suspension material." Toma nods.
The very word 'suspension' is enough to send the bullies into a frenzy.
"D-don't snitch!" Dessy pleads. "We'll leave her alone!"
"You'll leave her and every other carnie you've been harassing alone." Desmond corrects. "Forever."
"Y-yeah, deal! Just delete that audio!"
"Oh, I'm not deleting the audio. I'll keep it with me in case we see you throwing around any more dogs."
Nicole's face contorts into a grimace, jaw clenched in frustration. "Fuck you guys. We're just giving the carnies a bit of what we had to endure."
The two females storm out of the classroom before any of them can respond, Nicole shoving the ram brusquely as she passes. Only Paris remains, who rushes over to her saviors once the shock of the situation wears off.
"Thank you guys so much…" She sniffles. "Do you… really think they'll leave me alone now?"
"If they don't, just come to us." Desmond says, walking over to pick up the pom's glasses and handing it back to her. She returns her attention to the panther, who suddenly slumps down on a nearby desk. His breathing is heavy and ragged.
"Ugh…" He groans. "I thought for sure I was gonna get shocked…" He places a large palm above his chest, measuring his heart rate.
"Are… you okay?" Paris asks hesitantly.
"Yeah, yeah…" He breathes. "These kinds of things just make me nervous…"
"Don't mind him." Desmond pats his partner's shoulder absentmindedly. "He's not very extroverted. Especially for 'good cop bad cop' kind of stuff."
Paris eyes the panther. "That's different from the stories I heard."
Toma smiles patiently. "You should know that rumors aren't always true."
"Right…" The dog returns the smile meekly. "Those girls… they made my life hell. Always insulting me, throwing me around, using me for money or homework or anything else… I thought about talking to you but… I was too scared."
"I'm glad we found you, then." The feline lets out one final exhale and straightens his back, surprising Paris with how tall he is.
"If you want, you can come with us to our meeting. We were just on our way." Desmond offers.
"Meeting…? You mean for…"
That's motherfucking right. The Carnivore-Herbivore Alliance for Mutual Prosperity. CHAMP for short.
After the decision was cast thanks to Eloise's sage counsel, Desmond and Toma got to work on Operation Goliath: forming the protest group that would counteract the wave of hate created by Ezekiel and his DAVID cronies.
Getting the first couple of members was easy enough to both of their surprise. Monteiro and his carnie friends were very excited by the prospects of a counterculture movement, especially one that would potentially end the whisperings of mass carnivore expulsion. Perhaps because of their enthusiasm, they were willing to believe Toma's innocence.
"Knew a guy who got arrested for a predation attempt couple of years back. He got scammed into it but the jury didn't believe him either." The maned wolf said. "Happens all the time, but carnies never get the benefit of the doubt, not even with other carnies."
And so, the newly-formed CHAMP became four members stronger. But of course, they had their work cut out for them. Earning the respect of their peers, enough to rival the likes of DAVID, was going to be tough. They had to make a name for themselves, and to do that, they needed to be loud.
They began by disrupting the morning DAVID picketers with protests of their own. Monteiro was especially fond of drowning out the chants of the herbies with hip hop music on his ridiculously oversized boombox. It wasn't long before some of the carnies leaving or entering their dorms joined the CHAMP side, dancing, singing along, or adding any kind of public spectacle. Such good-natured shows were highly encouraged, and soon, the carnies began to look forward to their daily harassing knowing that before long, the CHAMP circus (as it was informally called) would be in town. Grizzly bears reciting neoclassical poetry, alligators offering free face paints, eagles putting on improv comedy sketches. The anti-carnie protestors would leave in a cloud of annoyance, but the festivities would continue even after their departure.
1. The CHAMP circuses brought dozens of new members, even herbivorous ones. A manifesto was needed in order to keep the movement true to their original goals. After a couple of rough drafts (and some secret peer review from a certain student council president), three central main CHAMP rules were defined:
2. The CHAMP activist group advocates for intertrophic equality. This is not a pro-carnie or anti-herbie group, but rather a response to the rampant discrimination of Noah's Arc students, and as such we believe in the necessity for intertrophic education in order to promote understanding within all animals.
3. CHAMP is a non-violent group. We will never initiate aggression or violence, physical or otherwise, but will enact self-defense if necessary. However, the goal of self-defense is only to fend off the attacker.
All animals are welcome to join CHAMP. It is a group free of discrimination and accepts anyone. Additionally one is free to leave CHAMP at any time for any reason.
Weekly meetings began, where members discussed the problems they faced and potential solutions. Targeted attacks against carnies could be stopped, but larger scale issues like gossip rings remained illusive to counteract. Regardless, the movement's strides and principled but irreverent attitude garnered them attention in all the right ways.
That wasn't to say CHAMP had a squeaky-clean reputation. Toma was still a highly controversial figure, one that many couldn't bring themselves to publicly support. Though the panther now openly insisted on his innocence, his sudden change in demeanor struck some as suspicious. Additionally, true to Solomon's words, the student council held no sympathy for the group, at least not openly. The CHAMP circuses increased student morale, but also increased the rate of tardiness and unruly conduct, not to mention that some stunts weren't exactly appropriate for a school environment (there was an incident involving a nude jaguar). Hafsa and her fellow stuco members had to get involved several times to shut down these talent shows. Whenever fights broke out between opposing protests, both parties would receive equal punishment regardless of who started it (it was always the DAVID member), though both Hafsa and Desmond secretly relished in their staged animosity towards each other.
Nearly two months later, and founders Toma and Desmond find themselves at the cusp of summer break and managing a spirited group of rebels. Not really what they had predicted for their junior year, but here they are. As they guide their newly recruited Pomeranian to the Animal History classroom (their pseudo-official headquarter during after school hours), Desmond locks eyes with a certain herd of animals.
The ram-fighting club cluster together, tromping down the stairs, and exchange perturbed stares with their captain. Though they at least acknowledge his presence, their discomfort is all too clear, which forces the Jacob sheep to lower his gaze.
Ever since the incident with Monteiro in the cafeteria, he and his teammates never returned to their old friendship. The company he's keeping nowadays seems to have created a rift between them, though he should at least be thankful the rams also steer clear from the DAVID crowd. Despite himself, Desmond feels his heart clench at their cold interaction. Would Peter have looked at him the same way…?
But now is no time for regrets. Somehow, against all odds, this is who he is now. Desmond the sheep, who once hated carnivores with every fiber of his being, stands side by side with them, defending their rights. Somehow, against all odds, this is what he has become.
It's not a bad feeling.
"Ah, our fearless leaders!" Monteiro exclaims as soon as the trio returns to their HQ, his long legs resting against a desk.
"Sorry we're late." Desmond indulges the maned wolf with one of his beloved fist bumps. "Dealing with something."
"What did we miss?" Toma asks.
"Not much." A chameleon pipes up from his seat. "We were discussing how quiet Ezekiel has been recently."
"Yeah, that mean he's up to something again." The ram grunts. "Summer vacation is right around the corner, he and his army of assholes must be building a bomb."
As Toma offers Paris some stale soda, the rest of CHAMP huddle up for the day.
"You know," Monteiro starts, slightly unsure. "I've been thinking about something."
"That's a first." Says a voice from the group.
"Fuck off. I was just thinking… what's like… our endgame?"
Both Toma and Desmond's ears perk up.
"Our endgame?"
"Yeah." The wolf scratches his neck. "Like… we keep doing our circuses and helping out and stuff… but like, how long do we gotta do it for? When do we know we fixed the school, you know?"
The others seem to ponder this for a moment.
"I guess… when DAVID gives up?" An osprey offers.
"Sure, but would that really solve it? Like, will everyone just be cool about carnies and herbies coexisting together, or will we just have shut up the loudmouths?"
Nobody has an answer to this, not even the founders.
Monteiro looks around at his companions, and he suddenly sits up straight, forcing his legs back under the desk. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I love CHAMP and the stuff we do. It's punk rock as shit. But we've been at this for like two months now. If we just play cat and mouse, I feel like nothing will ever really get resolved."
"You make a good point." Toma assures the canine. "Up until now, we were so focused on building our numbers and influence, we never really stopped to ask 'what next?'"
Desmond narrows his eyes, brows furrowed. "So… what next?"
"Hey Pop."
Pop doesn't answer.
"I know I said I'd never visit you after the funeral… You'd hate for me to see you like this. Standing over you. Heck, you ain't even buried here. Nothing but an empty casket."
Pop doesn't answer.
"Well, wherever you are… Guess I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. I've been thinking about you a lot lately."
Pop doesn't answer.
"I'm always thinking about you, really. Like you told me, I'm always carrying you in my horn. Heh. Summer vacation's coming up. I think I'll pass my midterms. Most of 'em, anyways. You know I was never good at math."
Pop doesn't answer.
"Reckon I'll take Mom to the park. If she's free, if she's feeling well. We used to go a lot when I was a kid, remember?"
Pop doesn't answer.
"Sure, we'd play catch and go hunting for bugs together. Remember when I threw the ball right on your horn and it popped just like that? Mom wouldn't stop laughing for hours."
Pop doesn't answer.
"You looked just like a clown, Pop. That colorful ball, all sad and deflated, stuck on your horn. But God, for it to have popped the ball just like that… Sharp as tiger's claw, wasn't it?"
Pop doesn't answer.
"It got me all excited. One day, I'd grow up and have a horn just as sharp. After all, I'm your boy, aren't I? I'm my father's son."
Pop doesn't answer.
"I'm trying. I really am. My school needs me. The world needs me."
Pop doesn't answer.
"It needs you... I need you."
Pop doesn't answer.
"I'm just trying to make the world right. Even just a little bit. But the world keeps fighting me every step of the way. And I'm willing to go all the way. Be whatever I gotta be to stop those bullies to the ground. But I just can't help thinking… what would you do, Pop?"
Pop doesn't answer.
"What would you do?"
Pop doesn't answer.
"Right. You ain't even here."
Pop doesn't answer.
"A carnie got the better of me a while back. Scratched up my nose and licked up the blood like it was maple syrup. And he's the student council secretary. Ain't that a laugh?"
Pop doesn't answer.
"I gotta get even with him. Him, and the spotted bitch, and that juvie basket case, and all of the other meat-eaters in that damn academy. Trash, all of them. I know if you were in my shoes you'd do the same."
Pop doesn't answer.
"I don't know what's wrong with people nowadays, Pop. When you were my age, animals knew their place in the world. Herbies stick with herbies, carnies stick with carnies. It served both of them best. But now after all of this intertrophic harmony bullshit being shoved down our throats… animals are getting killed in their own schools and people just think that's normal? That it's acceptance? It's like I'm the only sane person left."
Pop doesn't answer.
"It's… whatever. I dunno how to express it. You would've said it better. You always did."
Pop doesn't answer.
"I gotta go now. Eating dinner with Mom tonight. I'll stop pretending you're here now."
Pop doesn't answer.
"Bye, Pop."
AN: Thank you for reading. Hard to believe this still takes place in a high school, no? Just another day in the land of hyper-intelligent animals. Hope the small timeskip wasn't too jarring.
Take it easy and stay safe.