(Flashback: Late May-Early June)
[For a get together primarily concocted by their respective parental units on that last Friday night in May, Rhonda and Lorenzo's evening at Chez Pierre went divinely. While the later of the two hadn't really communicated with the former since her attempt at hosting a "cool party" back in the fourth grade, he was willing to give it a shot and to his surprise seemed to find some budding hints of maturity in the preadolescent girl sitting before him. For the moment, a friendship seemed to be fomenting; even as some tables away, Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd and Lopez kept watch from the corners of their eyes, each with wedding bells chiming violently about their imaginations.]
[Unbknownst to all involved, a figure had stood across the street fuming with all the indignation of a toddler denied candy as he watched their entire night play out. From his cereal bowl haircut to his red socks, tremors of rage seized him at the site of Rhonda with Lorenzo…a rage no amount of licorice whips could assuage.]
Curly: [Look at them. Lorenzo and Rhonda, Rhonda and Lorenzo, out on a date, flirting, having fun, kissing, happily splitting a platter of eclairs at Chez Pierre like that cartoon movie about the spaghetti-eating dogs. Oh, AND she just HAD to borrow that little mink coat from her mother.]
[The mink coat I and I alone could clean for her.]
[As the families exited the fancy restaurant, Curly took the opportunity to ruefully flee lest he risk being caught.]
Curly: [Doth your heartlessness know no bounds you revolting, raven-haired trollop? While my geyser of affection rises and swells with each nocturnal yearning, you not only dismiss me as a 'creep' or a 'slug', but offer your affections to that bland bag of money in human form just to taunt me further. Oh Rhonda, thou whose name was once a choir of angels…is now a discordant cacophony that could only originate from the deepest pits of HELL! Sure, today you and LoREnzO shall galivant about this town like the nauseating lovebirds you are…but tomorrow, ooooohhhh that glorious tomorrow I shall get you and all the dues I deserve-]
[Like disgruntled peasants upon the Bastille, a foul odor storms Curly's olfactory senses; charging through his nostrils and settling in his long-term memory. Reflexively, he covers his nose in disgust, but turning his eyes to the source of this stench, the twisted lad grinned maliciously as his mind went into overdrive. For there, behind the restaurant stood a dumpster overflowing with escargot, pate du foie gras, cervelles braisées…the whole menu in one form or another represented in the putrefying orgy of half-eaten Parisian foodstuffs.]
[It was then and there, that Curly found a way to settle a score with life itself.]
(The first weekend in June)
[At first glance, the idea of Curly managing to forge a symbiotic relationship with Ludwig defied all laws of logic, but on that afternoon in June, the two together (with Big Gino's goons for extra muscle) managed to propose the unfathomable; the resurrection of a dark and ignominious rite of passage known as Trashcan Day where the fourth graders would find themselves heaved into the refuse awaiting disposal on that first Monday in June once school let out for the day.]
[And what was scarier was how for a brief moment, it could have worked.]
[Aiding this demagogic duo's attempts at appealing to the more reptilian desires and impulses of that year's crop of sixth graders, was a recent and epic pair of back to back defeats at games of baseball against the fifth and fourth grade classes at Gerald Field. While the stakes were low (if any) and the rivalry was by all accounts friendly (a stark contrast to inter-grade relations of the recent past), some had internally sought to quench their thirsts for retribution. And there like a cold pitcher of water stood Curly and Ludwig; not only proposing to attack the fourth graders but ALSO the fifth graders as penance for last year's decision to put an end to this allegedly hallowed and sacred tradition…a decision their class came to because of Arnold Philip Shortman.]
["We can't. We're better than this."]
["You mean you're better than this! Because he thinks he's better than all of us! Look at what he's done to you all...he's tamed you. Turned you all into a bunch of sensitive saps. It's Arnold who bought us to the brink of disaster. When the beatings start again in Junior High…I hope you all look back at Arnold and all the wonderful things he's done for us, and what he's turned us into.]
[Arnold looked around the room and saw growing looks of anger aimed at him, and he dreaded that he was losing them to Curly and Ludwig. He desperately tried to think of something but for the first time in a while Arnold felt a real sense of fear towards his class. He had gone through arguably more frightening and life-threatening situations, but to see Curly and Ludwig appealing to everyone's worst instincts inspired a different fear entirely. He opened his mouth as if about to say something to inspire everyone, but nothing came out.]
["What's that I hear? Some poorly founded, naïve, and thoughtfully self-righteous morality speech? Wouldn't you all just love to hear another one of those from this guy?"]
["No!"]
["Isn't it about time we seized the respect we deserve from those fourth and fifth graders?!"]
["YEAH!"]
["Then rejoice my friends! For Ludwig is here to hoist us out of this gilded age and shape you all into the warriors you were all meant to be!"]
[Arnold thought soul-crushing disappointment was nothing new to him; being a dreamer and idealist, he was far from a stranger to such sensations every now and again considering all the times human instinct at its darkest all too gleefully used his worldview as a port-o-john. But as he watched his peers leave the schoolyard hollering for blood, the football headed lad could feel his resolve going down the drain…and for Curly of all people to lead the charge was salt to the wound. Everyone knew the kid was always a few fries short of a kid's meal, and yet here they were guzzling down his venom and asking for more.]
["I guess this is happening." Helga said.]
["I just wish there was something we could do to stop them…" Arnold sighed.]
[Gerald, Helga and Phoebe could feel the world come to a sharp halt. Shocked at the defeatist musings of their normally hopeful compadre with the oblong head, they turned their eyes in his direction hoping for this to be an uncharacteristically sick joke. But instead they found Arnold looking downcast and distraught as the rest of them.]
["Arnold? You don't have an idea? Man, this is bad…" Gerald said quietly as he and the rest of the core four continued about their separate ways; each feeling powerless to the hell that was to be unleashed tomorrow afternoon.]
[In the den of her house later that evening, Helga catatonically channel surfed in some attempt to drown out the stifling sense of silence and with it the impending doom of Monday. But the image of her boyfriend's downtrodden countenance coupled with those of their inner circle remained charred within her mind's eye.
["Oh Arnold." She sighed after turning the TV off and fishing her heart shaped locker out of her jumper. "By what cruel hand of fate do you of all people find yourself giving up hope at this hour? Sure that dastardly sea lamprey and his malignant mesomorph may have riled up our otherwise halcyon and benevolent peers, but surely something must cross (if not your path) mine or Gerald or Phoebe's that could reignite that candle on the water known as your boundless sense of optimism that now and ever sweeps me off my feet."]
["Olga. When you're done, can you gimme a hand?! I got another message on the company's FaceLook thing here."]
[With a scowl that could burn titanium, Helga rose herself off the couch and entered the dining room where her father Big Bob sat hunched over a laptop as he continued to boldly venture where all businessmen but him had gone before: the internet. But before she could seat herself anew, Olga bounded through the threshold with a strained smile.]
["See. I told you a social media presence would help us-"]
["Yeah, yeah, this Alchemy guy or however he says his name there, wants to know what model of phone we have in stock has the best livestreaming capabilities. Something about wanting to reach shut in parishioners at that Russian Catholic church on Bartlett Street."]
["Olchovy…" Helga begins reflexively. "…that's it…OLCHOVY!"]
[Bob and Olga look at the youngest member of their family as she gives her father a brief but powerful hug before bouncing off the chair and bolting to her room with speeds one might commonly associate with a hummingbird. Snatching the phone off the kitchen wall as she hustles up the steps, the door slams shut leaving only frantic mumblings to be heard among the four ears below.]
["I'm not even gonna ask…" Bob says with a shake of his head.]
["Mm. Mm. Mm." Gerald said as he and the rest of his friends sat outside Sunset Arms. "It's a pretty messed up situation when Wolfgang's gotta save the day."]
["Trust me." Helga said. "He really did take Arnold's whole 'putting an end to a culture of violence thing' to heart …(both boys looked at Helga quizzically)…ok, so it took him a year or so to evolve, but still. You just had to be there, the kid really takes his redemption arc seriously; besides what could be more poetic than having the both of you bringing him in on this plan?"]
["Well, seeing as how you know a thing or two about poetry, I guess you got us." Arnold replied with a wink.]
[Before Helga could melt into a puddle, Phoebe bought up another point.]
["Ok, but assuming if Wolfgang can somehow reach Ludwig, Curly still has Big Gino's mercenaries at his disposal. And word from Lila is that he's already paid off his debt in licorice sticks. Think about that. Who else do you know that can say they've paid off their debt to Big Gino THAT quick?"]
["A guy like Big Gino can only respond to force…" Gerald began.]
["Then force he shall get."]
[Helga leans to the sewer gate and gives an eerie whistle. After tapping the grate, she whistles again and leans her ear closer. Sure enough, some scurrying later and a large orange lizard crawls from out of the grate. As Arnold Gerald and Phoebe lean back, Helga nuzzles the reptile as it seats itself like a puppy in it's master's lap.]
["Awww." She cooes. "Did Mischief miss mommy? Yes she did. Yes she did. And Mommy misses you too. But Bob shit enough bricks to build a house seeing you in his room. So mommy has to let you live in the secret tunnels…"]
["Arnold…dude…" Gerald whispered uneasily. "If you still got any feelings for Lila…"]
[Mischief lets out a disgusted roar.]
["OK! OK! I was just joking." The tall haired boy replied while raising his hands defensively. To which the reptile snorted, as if to say 'you'd better.'
["So, I guess this is it." The football headed boy began slowly. "Gerald and I will go grab Wolfgang while you and Phoebe scare some sense into Gino and his men…I can't lie that I expected Trashcan Day to stay a relic of the past, and if anyone told me this is how we'd be reburying it I'd-"]
["Yeah, yeah, save the speeches for another time. Let's roll." Helga said as they once again went their separate ways.]
(Monday)
Curly: [No one of us knows exactly 'when' the terrible and fearsome tradition began…but 'why' is a whole other matter.]
[Trash Can Day is about the human experience as well as all the complexities/contradictions therein. For one group, it was invented to satisfy a primal human need; spitting in the eye of life itself. It was a day to let loose the grievances that burden us. Broken families, older siblings lording their age and authority over us, shattered hearts, pencils that came back in less than pristine condition…whatever itch you have to scratch, there was always that one Monday in June where any poor sap could feel like a king for only the faintest moment.]
[On the flipside of the coin, the hapless fourth graders we shove away learn the lesson that idealism is a fool's game. This is your wake-up call to The Real World, so thicken your skin Cupcake because it only gets rougher from here on in…or at least that's the way it used to be.]
[Somewhere along the way, we got coddled by these stupid notions of 'diversity' and 'tolerance' and that hoary hymn of how 'we live in a society'. But now, the loudest voices in that choir haven't much to say at the moment, meaning that nigh is the time for the natural order of the world to be set right. And History shall take note of who single-handedly served as herald of this new epoch in which-]
["You done talking to yourself in there you little freak?"]
[With three mighty pounds upon the bathroom door, and a flush of the toilet, Curly steps out from the little boy's room grinning ear to ear like he had won the lottery twice. Staring him down was Ludwig who by contrast wore a deep and determined frown…a frown made all the more prominent by his sidekick-by-default's little detour. Facing the colossal kid and the army of PS118 Sixth Graders and additional rent-a-goons at their disposal, the bowl-cutted boy drew a deep breath.]
["No speeches weirdo. Just. Carnage."]
[Barreling toward the front doors, the small army marched through the PS118 Hallway and into the city proper where they were promptly greeted by a sight none could have possibly foreseen. At the foot of PS 118's main entranceway stood Wolfgang Toran in utter silence. His hair had been groomed since he had last graced school property and a slight look of disappointment clouded his face. Yet the sight of him in his brown shorts and skin-tight Cobra Commander T-shirt was enough to prompt a 180 in Ludwig's demeanor: turning the harsh and tyrannical tormenter into a star-struck four-year-old at the sight of Santa Claus at the mall.]
["DUDE!" He shouted.]
[Rushing down the steps, Ludwig enveloped his ex-counterpart in a constricting bro-hug. Behind him stood his army of riled up cohorts whose attitude shifted from bloodlust to confusion, and in some existential shame and betrayal; here was the child who for many struck fear into their hearts. Why would he now help them? Why would they want him as an ally? What were they doing?]
[Nonetheless, Wolfgang continued to study the sight before him as Ludwig geeked out at his side.]
["I did it Bro. I bought it back! And what's with your hair?"]
["Bought what back? The Unibrow?" Wolfgang said with a good-natured chuckle. "Don't think that ever 'went' around here."]
["Nah Bro." Ludwig chuckled back. "The first Monday of June…The Longest Monday…Y'know Trash Can Day! These wusses skipped it last year, but we've evened out the score by making it a double header; going after both the fourth AND fifth graders! And you…having you here…I mean, it'd be an honor of honors-"]
["Wait, wait, wait, 'skipped it' you say?" Wolfgang said cutting into Ludwig's sycophantic offer. "I gotta say. I'm impressed."]
[For a brief moment, Ludwig's jaw dropped crestfallenly. But then he quickly remembered Wolfgang to always have been a 'big picture' guy and not above the occasional use of his brain to bully as well as his ample supply of brawn. Chalking this turn of events up to creating a false sense of security, Ludwig laughed.]
["Good one. Gotta admit you had me there for a minute."]
["No. Seriously, this news pleases me."]
[Slowly it dawns on Ludwig that his seemingly cruel compadre wasn't playing around. This pacifistic outlook wasn't in jest but rather in earnest.]
["You're…you're SERIOUS?! HOW?! Here we are on the cusp of resurrecting everything you started-"]
["Everything I started? Dude, I didn't start Trash Can Day. It was a thing that happened to me in fourth grade…then we got into the fifth grade…wait a sec, you're in sixth grade now, right?"]
["Yeah…still." Ludwig answered bitterly. "And like I said before, we're going after both fourth and fifth graders because Football Face had to fill them with all that cupcake talk about-"]
["-how I have another option, a visionary option. One with me as a trailblazer of tolerance, philosopher of justice, prophet of peace, and all that other Saturday Morning Cartoon hoo-dee-doo." Wolfgang finished. "And in the end, I escorted Arnold and Gerald to exactly where they could shove said outlook. I did a lot of cruel and stupid things afterwards, and what happened? Did life change for me? Did my mom and dad get back together? Did we move out of the scummier side of town? No. If anything, it got worse after mom got arrested and I got to see for myself what kind of beast dad was…I went to therapy for a while but…(Wolfgang sighs sadly)…but more than anything it was through the help of my music teacher that I got my life together and saw the error of my ways. And at the risk of really going headlong into every cliché…"]
[Wolfgang reaches into his shirt and pulls out a ball-bearing necklace. On the end was an unembellished stainless-steel tri-barred cross.]
["Before you ask, I'm not running around throwing literature in anyone's face, and I'm not going to pretend every one of my problems suddenly got solved. But all I'm saying is that being at church has given me a lot of clarity; and coming full circle, I did wind up meeting the founder of Trash Can Day while going to a pilgrimage at a monastery in Oregon. He's the Abbot now, and he confirmed that this day was about getting even with life and all the times it kicked us around. A brief moment to feel bigger. Only when we grow up do we realize problems don't go away because we bully others, but we find peace in facing them. So, what happened Ludwig? Where did it all go wrong for you?"]
[The dropping of a pin could be heard as Wolfgang's words echoed on the hearts and minds of the army Ludwig had amassed. The guilt of being associated with such an undertaking finally caused much of the grade to one by one make their way back home…leaving only one classmate standing.]
["Wow…" Curly began slowly. "I…I had no idea…that we WERE ON FREAKING OPRAH! Maybe the rest of these yutzes bought your 'reformed rebel' crap, but not me! I was the first casualty of yours in my day. And that's a stink no amount of time and Tide can wash away! But now…NOW I HOLD THE ACES! AND WITH GINO'S MERCINARIES AT MY DISPOSAL I SHALL…Hey! What gives?"]
["Sorry kid." One thug said as he and the others began walking away from the scene. "Orders from the Big G. We're to fall back."]
["Damn Skippy you are!" Replied an abrasively feminine voice.]
[Curly turned around to see a familiar foursome of students accompanied by a massive orange reptile slowly and triumphantly step into the hallway and cross the threshold, each of their faces fixed in a smug grin. Rage and disbelief shook the very foundations of his body. Had he not vanquished them? Had he not crushed their spirits and salted the earth to keep anything back from growing? But instead, they passed the bowl-cut boy without giving him so much as a shove on their way to greet Wolfgang and Ludwig.]
["Why is it, when something happens, it is always you four?" He inquired ruefully. "Especially you Arnold. Your goody-two-shoes routine may have fished Sid out of debt once upon a time, but Gino ain't the type to be played twice by the same routine."]
["You're right." Arnold said as his face broke into a sly grin. "Kindness may work once in a while…"]
["But a little mischief goes a long way too." Helga finished as her face broke into an equally and more noticeably crafty beam.]
(Yesterday, Gino's lair)
["Alright, alright, alright." Gino whined as he cowered from under his desk. "Call off your silly salamander and we can talk!"]
[Big Gino was not a kid who spooked easily, but coming face to face with an ornery lizard that by all accounts could have him for lunch would cause anyone's nerves to disintegrate…especially as said lizard ran about his office, destroying everything in sight. With a snap of her finger, the rampage ended and the once rowdy reptile stopped dead in its tracks and curled at the blonde girl's feet.]
["I must say Miss Pataki. Your reputation for chutzpah was far from exaggerated…"]
["Yeah, yeah, so. Let's talk turkey." The blonde one replied. "You tell your men that whatever deal you had with the little freak is null and void."]
["Deal. Exactly, fuggetaboutit." Big Gino squeaked.]
["And as part of your penance you're comping all the pizza for this Friday's Sixth Grade Sendoff."]
[All eyes turned to stare at Helga quizzically. Even Mischief found herself emitting a confused grunt over her master's extemporaneous demand.]
["What? Never make a deal with me when I'm on an empty stomach."]
[With the Trash Can Day reboot consigned back to history's garbage heap, there was little left to do now for Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe, Helga, Ludwig, Wolfgang (and even Mischief) except make their way back to their respective domiciles. The two former fiends walked away to not only catch up on life but muse about ways to be better members of society, the blonde girl gave one last loving nuzzle to her pet before it slithered back down a nearby drain, and the two boys shared their trademark thumb wiggle with each other in victory before catching up with their girlfriends…leaving behind one soul with visions of vengeance dancing in his head.]
Curly: [So, Trash Can Day came to naught and it's a happy ending for everyone. Brotherhood. Diversity. All that crap once again reigns supreme, and the promise of pizza to close out the week as well…Whilst I, Thaddeus, fade into the background. Denied of the dues I have long deserved…]
[...No longer important...]
[...No longer needed...]
[With a violent cock of his head, Curly raises his face skyward and in three words shatters the stillness of the afternoon.]
["I!"]
["THINK!"]
["NOT!"]
AN: Credit for "Mischief" as the name of Helga's lizard goes to BowlingAesthetic who also has some good fics to check out! Also, parts of the dialogue can be found in Cre8tively Bankrupt's Hey Arnold fic, The Mitigators.