Author's note: S'up? To anyone reading this, if you checked out my previous Bully Retold story, you'll find this one functions similarly to the previous-following major story beats from Bully Chapter 2, though there are some substantial edits as well. If you didn't check out my previous Bully Retold story, you'll be quite lost with this one. Among the edits I mentioned: name changes. For instance, Pinky's name in this story is Harper. I'll go ahead and paste the previous note I'd mentioned on this topic from my Making New Friends and Enemies story:

Certain characters have been added, replaced, removed, and adjusted. You may find that they're not 100% the same as they were in the game. Hopefully you enjoy my spin on things.

I also changed Jimmy & Gary's names, among others. Ultimately, I think I wanted to do this so I didn't feel confined to how they were presented in the game. In the same vein of the aforementioned note, I think giving them different names helped make me feel like they were my characters (even if they weren't exactly) and therefore it was in my power to do what I pleased with them. For whatever reason I didn't feel like doing that with Pete though

Thanks again for reading


Bullworth Academy could be considered many things. A wasteland to some, a haven to others, all dependent upon one's perspective. Perspective, as you likely know, isn't a static thing. It's highly influenced by changes to one's surroundings, different events shaping one's life, and more. In the case of young Pete Kowalski, the major drivers of a change of perspective have been entirely social.

Arriving at Bullworth Academy for the year, Pete was more or less shunned. While going on a journey with Benji Malloy, Connor Henson, Kanashii Vo, Shay Fitzwilliams, and a dog named Winston, Pete learned more about himself and the others around him than some people do in an entire year, in only the span of a matter of weeks. Simultaneously lifted up by his three new friends: Connor, Kanashii, and Shay, Pete learned that there is some worth in him after all, despite a crushing blow to his psyche dealt by the ever-scheming Benji Malloy.

One week after the devastating events of the Hole, Evan Mattson's drone empire crumbled with the destruction of his drones as well as all his money lost. It had been a double sideswipe, with Pete and his friends learning about Benji's deception in working alongside Evan all along soon after shadowed by the fact that Benji had truly been on no one's side but his own.

Through these events, as well as more of the terrifying experiences Pete underwent during Halloween and before still crowded his mind, times had become easy-going for the most part.

As Pete left the central schoolhouse of the campus, once again bustled aside by students larger than him, he felt a solace in being able to go about his following days post-Hole without being berated by anyone he thought he cared about. Though taunting still kept on coming, Pete Kowalski found himself with a pep in his step as he sauntered the paths of the campus. The only thing that could stop him now was the chilly wind, only growing colder as the fall days went on. Now, to keep his tiny frame warmer, Pete wore a dark blue, Bullworth jacket over his dress shirt and vest.

It was only once he reached the side of the building across from the library that his mind focused on the external environment around him. Pete peered closer, seeing a flock of most of the nerds that he knew having themselves an outcry right outside the library's entrance.

"What the hell?" Pete murmured.

Curiosity piqued, Pete headed over towards the steps leading to the library's frontal courtyard. He recognized Harold stomping around with a picket sign that had an unflatteringly drawn picture of Earnest's face with devil horns and a pointed devil tail extending from behind him. This same outrage-spirit was shared by Andrew and Yirmi, stomping about together. Sam thudded his feet around, thumping his big stomach like a drum. Avery was involved too, playing pattycake with JJ while chanting the same chant as everyone else.

Speaking over each other, everyone chanted, "Out with Earnest! Throw him in the furnace! Down with Earnest! He belongs in the circus!"

"Jeez," Pete murmured again. "Unionism really sunk its teeth into these guys."

"Pete!" Dallas shouted, the scrawny nerd rushing over to him to tug him into the crowd. "Pete, you're just in time to join us."

Pete, like Dallas, had to speak good and loud to be heard over the overlapping voices of the crowd.

"Just in time for what? Are you guys uprising against Earnest?"

"Bingo," Harold responded, lowering the picket sign for a moment. "We've learned that through Noah's changes after becoming class president, he really was right about Earnest. Things are better for us under Noah's presidency."

Pete beamed at the mention. He remembered back to when he and Noah organized the group consisting of the two of them, Connor, Shay, Kanashii, Winston, Dallas, and JJ to help Noah's speech prevail against Earnest and Lightning's in the auditorium.

"He made it? Hell yeah, that's what we were counting on!"

"Frick yeah, my brother from someone else's maternal side of the family," Harold agreed.

"Out with Earnest!" the crowd exclaimed again. "Throw him in the furnace!"

"He doesn't even care about dinosaurs!" Yirmi shouted. "He's only pretending!"

"Is every nerd in the clique here?" Pete wondered.

"Almost," Avery responded. "We're missing Cameron, plus a few no-names."

"Cameron?" Harold snorted. "More like Benedict Cameron. Traitor."

At that moment, the library's wooden entry door opened to Noah, standing with a smug smile on his face. He raised his arms to address the group.

"Thank you! Thank you, everyone, for the support. I couldn't have done it without all of you."

"I love to piss!" cheered one jowly, lumpy, oversized nerd in the crowd.

With just one comment, the crowd went silent. A wind brushed by, and not a single soul focused on it, their eyes instead plastered to the tubby nerd that had unfortunately outspoken.

"I was just being honest..."

"Way to go, Noah!" Pete cheered.

Noah's smile returned at the sight of his supporter. "Hey, Pete."

It was then that the entrance to the library opened once again, this time to Cameron and Earnest. In an instant, the crowd booed, throwing up thumbs-downs, with picket signs high and tension even higher. The commotion had Pete withdrawing.

"Settle down, settle down!" Earnest demanded.

"We don't listen to you anymore, you kitchen appliance!" JJ retorted.

"'Kitchen appliance'?" he echoed. "Why, if I were any sort of appliance, I'd be a telephone! Classy, classic, and a pioneer of essential functions!"

"Pioneer, eh?" Noah challenged him, leaning on the brick stair supports on the other side of the staircase to the library. "What exactly did you ever start for this clique? Ego-masturbation?"

"He doesn't deserve to speak!" Avery squealed.

"How dare you, Noah!" Earnest may as well have blazed red, with steam shooting out from his eardrums. "How dare you rip this clique away from me! This 'clique'," he scoffed, "no, we are so much more than that! We are a collection of individuals with minds so advanced that simpletons in this school feel that they have no choice but to bully us, just to keep us at bay from dominating them with our intellects! And do you know who started that group, Noah? Me! It was me! We wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for me: the visionary behind it all!"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped.

"We would've found our way to each other without you," Noah argued. "It doesn't matter what sort of contribution you think you brought us. Nothing was gonna change with you, Earnest. Nothing. You say you want better for us, but you were perfectly comfy with the status-quo last I checked. I want more for these people. I want a real education without drunken teachers, without abusive prefects! You just want to feel important, and now that you know you're not, you're lashing out. In just the past two days, I've had two prefects fired and replaced and I'm currently in the process of throwing Mr. Frog out of this curriculum. How's that for leadership?"

Some of the crowd cheered for him, while most merely stared at Earnest with contempt.

"Y-y-y-you!" Earnest growled. "You- you- you- you-" The nerd began to shake, anger rising in him like steam out of boiling water. "You're going to regret this!"

Then, Earnest sprang, attacking Noah out of nowhere. With the fights Pete had seen in mind, he flinched and threw his arms in front of his eyesight within a second. With only the sound of minor grunting and slight slapping to follow, Pete opened his eyes and lowered his arms.

"Oh, wait, I forgot what clique this is."

Earnest slapped at Noah with all his force, an "overflow" of force amounting to a wet snowball dropping at someone's feet. Annoyed, Noah slapped back at him. Some of the nerds cheered for the fight, while most calmed down within moments at the sight of the meager battle taking place before them. JJ, however, leaped into the air with excitement.

"I'm gonna start foaming at the mouth if this keeps up!"

"Guys, come on, you're embarrassing yourselves," Pete murmured.

But they didn't listen to Pete in the slightest bit. Cameron watched beside the library door, hunched up as Earnest threw a flurry of meager slaps Noah's way. The new class president shut his eyes and held out his arms to deflect the "attack", but Earnest wouldn't back down. Noah grunted for Earnest to stop as he pushed him back, the two stepping down the stairs in their lightweight tussle.

"Guys?" Pete repeated.

By now, some of the unnamed nerds started to clear out, boredom overtaking them.

"This isn't stimulating enough," Sam grumbled, heading off with the others.

"Guess now's as good a time as any to go back to the dorm and jack off," Andrew decided.

After the pitter-patter of Earnest's dainty hands at Noah kept up for a few more beats, Noah finally mustered the strength to shove Earnest away from him.

"Fine! You know what? Fine!" Earnest wailed. "If all of you want Noah to be your leader so badly, then that's just fine with me! I don't need this clique! I'm gonna start my own astronomy club, and none of you are invited! None of you but Cameron, the only person in this clique with a little sense!" Earnest's glare turned to the one offbeat in the crowd. "And you, Pete, you are definitely no friend of mine. Thanks a lot for tipping the scales in the favor of Noah during that class presidency debate. Thanks for stripping me of all my supporters!"

Earnest stormed off, with Cameron stepping down from the library's entrance to follow. Pete watched Earnest go uneasily, then turned to face his only remaining supporter.

"Cameron, why side with Earnest? He's kind of a basketcase, wouldn't you say?"

Cameron shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose there's some truth to that, but Earnest and I have been through a lot together. We were friends before we enrolled here, and I can't turn my back on him now after all we've experienced. I won't say I don't support Noah, though."

Noah nodded respectfully to him at the mention. "Thanks, Cameron. Go be with your friend."

"See you, guys."

With that, Cameron left, and after him went the majority of the nerds, dispersing into their usual haunts around or in the library.

"Pete," Noah greeted him. "It's good to see you again."

"You too, Noah. Not that it's been that long," he chuckled.

"No, not really."

"So, here you are. Mr. Big Important Class President Guy. That's awesome."

"It is. I'm happy with the amount of power the position holds. I wouldn't have expected to be in such direct communication with Headmaster Slug, but I'm not gonna complain."

Pete rubbed behind his neck. "What kind of power does the position hold? Can you expel people?"

Noah frowned and shook his head. "No. I wish I could. I think we can each think of someone who'd be a viable candidate for that."

Pete felt his skin crawl at the mention. "Benji," he muttered. Looking back on his friendship with Benji, he could only remember the negatives now. The ridicule, the bullying, the "Line", the time he shoved his foot two feet deep into Pete's crotch.

"I heard about what happened," Noah continued. "I wasn't under the school, but I heard about Evan and Connor's fight, Benji's organization of it. When drones were blowing up all over campus, I knew Benji did it."

"Yeah, unfortunately, I know all there is to know about all that..."

"You hear about Franklin Clinton?"

Pete stared at Noah for a moment, thoroughly stunned that there seemed to be a piece of last week that he didn't already know. "F-F-Franklin Clinton? Who's that?"

Noah sighed. "He was an offbeat. Belonged to no clique, had just about as many friends here as Mike Peters does."

"W-why are you saying 'had'? Is he all right?" Pete could feel his heart starting to pound against his tiny chest.

"When the drones blew up, almost no one got hurt. Almost no one. Once I became class president, I learned from the prefects that only one student did get injured, that one student being Franklin Clinton that I just mentioned. One of his legs was set on fire, and it put him in the hospital. Now, unfortunately, Franklin comes from a poor family, at least, so I've been told, so he and his parents can't afford the bill to get his leg properly healed up."

"S-so..."

Pete's words caught in his throat. I was partially responsible!

"What's gonna happen to him?"

"He's got no choice but to drop out. Headmaster Slug confirmed this just days ago. Franklin dropped out a few days back. His parents don't live in Bullworth either, and this is a boarding school, so they didn't plan on coming back for him until the end of the spring semester. It's not even winter yet."

"Why?"

Noah frowned. "You wanna know yet another reason why this school needs me, Pete? The infirmary isn't capable enough to handle Franklin's situation. They can handle usual fighting aftermath, but the burns that Franklin sustained weren't within the school's expectation. The school doesn't wanna look like they've got a student they can't heal in their student body, so they're less likely to get in trouble for it if he's, well, not in the student body."

"Oh, god... Can he stay in the boys' dorm until then?"

Noah shook his head. "Slug says if we allowed non-enrolled students access to the dorms, it could draw in townies wanting the same. From what I hear, the townies are volatile, dangerous druggies that live on the far side of Bullworth in the trailer park-people that Headmaster Slug doesn't wanna have to deal with any more than he's had to in the past."

"Oh..."

Pete was speechless. Stunned. He thought for sure that everyone got off the hook from Benji's terrible plan, but apparently not. Pete's mind wandered over the possibilities of this Franklin kid living homeless on the streets of Bullworth for a year, all because of a scheme Benji cooked up, a scheme that Pete had been foolish enough to go along with.

"Noah, we... we helped Franklin get hurt. This... this is our fault."

Noah's face was stoic like usual, but Pete suspected there had to be some grief inside the class president, too. "I know, Pete. Unfortunately, Benji can't be busted for his plan without proof."

"What about getting proof?"

"Can you think of a way of proving it to the school?" Noah muttered. "Besides, that would consequently fry all of us that were involved. It's not worth losing my class presidency over; I've finally got an opportunity to do good for my clique, for everyone. I've got to hold onto that. Benji will get his, I believe it and you should too, but it won't be from me. I've accepted that. All I can do now is strive to put in place legislation that might fuck him over going forward."

Pete sighed. "All right, Noah, I understand."

Noah rested a hand on Pete's shoulder. "What happened to Franklin isn't gonna happen again. I hope you can believe that, too."

This time, Pete didn't say anything, nor did he even look into Noah's eyes. Noah patted his shoulder, then started to head down the staircase.

"Goodbye, Pete."

Roaming campus for a while longer before afternoon class began, Pete couldn't get the burning shame out of his mind. Despite the air being cold enough for a jacket, Pete felt heat under his skin, like he was flushing red with embarrassment.

Why didn't you push harder? Maybe you could have done something to stop him, and Franklin wouldn't have to be homeless for the rest of the school year. If only I could go back...

To Pete, during the first few months of attending Bullworth Academy, Benji was like a bull; forceful, stubborn, and with a personality that didn't draw in many challengers. Pete had resented him, despite believing he'd cared for him, and now the feelings had flipped like an acrobat. Now Pete resented himself for letting Benji take the wheel, steering them wherever he pleased. The question on Pete's mind to grapple with was, did the same feelings of dislike flip too? After piping down and following Benji's every order, did Pete still like himself?


In the week following the opening to the school gates, Connor kept his head down, and focused on his studies for a change. It had been a few weeks now since Headmaster Slug's threat to rid Connor from the academy, and now that bullies weren't clawing over each other to get a piece of him every chance they could, Connor was able to coast for the most part. Prowling the hallways and seeing Scott or Duncan for instance curtly wave to Connor instead of harassing him still didn't feel quite natural, but he shrugged it off and kept the reminder these students gave him of Benji and Evan out of his mind as best he could.

Even English class was calmer. Connor scrawled into his notebook about an actual lesson for a change, one that he suspected Mr. Frog didn't know the first thing about, but that he was forced to teach as part of the curriculum. Connor looked up from his work for a moment, sighing over the tediously slowly ticking minutes on the clock in the corner of the room. Him and his seatmate beside him, Avery caught glances, but then returned them to their papers. Bad blood certainly hadn't broiled between the two, but since rejecting her offer to date, Connor found himself connecting with her less and less as the days went by.

Connor also noticed that Frog had his face slumped against his fist, his whole body drooped to one side where he sat at his desk. He stared down at the creaky floor, not slurring a single drunken word. A student seated to the left and back from Connor took notice as well.

"Psst!"

Connor reluctantly turned to face a prep with long, chocolate hair. The mane was groomed in such a way that Connor figured this guy was up all night into the morning primping it. He thought he recognized this guy as one of the ones present at the drone deal where Evan took a shovel to Connor and Benji in the garden.

That big, snide monologue between the two of them, fighting over the shovel... that was an act, too...

"What?" Connor uttered.

The classroom was quiet enough to hear every sigh or floor-creak, so the prep kept his voice low, but Connor didn't care to.

"See Mr. Frog over there?" the prep whispered. "Why, he seems like an egg short of a carton lately, wouldn't you say?"

"You mean unhinged?"

Frog didn't challenge him. Connor scrunched his face in confusion; for once, Frog didn't have anything to say about his opinion.

"I-I mean depressed," the prep whispered again, perhaps prompting Connor to do the same, but the offbeat didn't take the bait.

"Yeah. It's concerning."

"Are you concerned for his mental health?"

"Not really, I need this class to pass. If my drunken teacher hangs himself, then how will I get the credit?"

"That's enough, Connor..." Frog mumbled.

Connor stared at him with surprise again. "Like I said, concerning."

"Say, let's start over," the prep whispered. "I'm Chandler, I hail from Harrington House. You know, I was there for your brawl against Evan Mattson."

"Just the memory I wanted to unearth," Connor grumbled.

"It was quite smashing if I do say so myself. I mean, your technique was all wrong, but you sure showed him a thrashing, yes?"

Connor stared at the prep like he was the one an egg short of a carton.

"W-what I'm getting at is, you seem like an impressive brawler. You know, for a poor person. What say you to coming down to the old Glass Jaw Boxing Club gym? It's located in Bullworth town jus-"

"You can fuck yourself, that's what I say to it."

As if attempting to "ooh", the bell rang. Afternoon classes had ended for the day.

"All right, get out of here," Frog muttered, yet the class didn't need his input; they charged out without a care in the world. "Leave me alone, just like my dad did."

"You got it, Mr. F!" shouted a nerd on the way out.

"I'm gonna eat my lip gloss! Somebody stop me!" Avery squeaked as she raced out.

Connor was the last one to exit, and as he did, he took a long glance at Frog who continued his depressed slump.

"What?" Frog demanded.

"Nothing. Just looking."

"Yeah? There's nothing to see here, kid. Go on."

Connor rolled his eyes and obliged. "With pleasure."

On his way out of the doorway, a heavyset, dark-skinned man in a college professor's tweed coat headed his way. Connor recognized the man as the instructor that had gotten on his case over something insignificant on his first day at Bullworth Academy.

What was his name? Connor wondered.

"Excuse me," the man prompted, brushing by Connor to enter Frog's classroom.

As Connor turned to watch him enter, he missed the sight of Pete approaching from down the sleek hall.

"Hey, Connor, what's going on?"

"Hang on a sec, Pete. I wanna see what's about to happen here."

Pete shifted to try and fail to look over Connor's shoulder, then peeked around his side. "Is that Hattrick talking to Frog? What for?"

"Disgusting," Hattrick sneered.

"Excuse me?" Frog slurred.

"You know what I'm talking about. For god's sake, Frog, I can see you holding the bottle at your side! Don't think you can hide your habit from me."

Connor noticed the strictness and natural commanding presence that Hattrick had about him, realizing Frog would be hard pressed to ascertain even a little bit of it. Perhaps that's why he drank. Or perhaps his grandmother was hit and killed by a bus-it could have been any number of reasons, Connor figured.

"I smell that vile stench on your breath," Hattrick continued. "There are stains on your desk-a desk that you didn't buy yourself, by the way!"

"Lay off me, fat prick," Frog muttered. "You've got no position to be... berating me like this."

"Oh, why, yes, I do, frog-fucker."

"Did Hattrick really just call him a frog-fucker?" Pete murmured from outside the class.

"I'm an instructor, professionally trained to educate and discipline children. Children, Frog. These are children that you're drinking in front of! What sort of monster drinks in front of a child?"

"A... parent?" Frog slurred.

"Perhaps yours. That would explain plenty, I'm sure."

"Hey, enough of- with that, would you? Don't try and tell me how to live my life! You don't know my pain, Fattrick. You don't know what keeps me up at night. Besides, with you and what- what with- with what army are you able to do anything about it? Huh? Punk."

"Why, the bright, shining new class president has brought your 'antics' to mine and Headmaster Slug's attention. I'm here on duty, not out of the kindness of my heart."

"'Kindness' my dying left kidney!" Frog burst.

"Yes. Kindness, for saving you from yourself. But I don't care. Drink yourself into the ground for all I care, but don't you do it around these children. Do you understand me, Lionel?"

No response. Frog exhaled.

"Enjoy your filth while you can. Your job is compromised, Frog."

"What?" he blurted. "You're firing me?"

"Soon. If you don't control this little pastime of yours, Headmaster Slug will be kicking you to the curb in no time. Good day."

As Hattrick spun around to storm off into the hallway, budging right by Connor and Pete once again, the two students turned around to see Frog back to sulking at his desk. He had his face planted in both palms propped up at his desk by his elbows. His back rose, then descended as a sorrowful sigh left him.

Connor shook his head. "Poor, poor lunatic."

"Should... should we go talk to him?" Pete suggested.

"What? Why?"

"He looks miserable, man. I don't know. I get that he's sort of weird and he drinks like a fish, but... I guess I just kinda know what that feels like."

At first, Connor was ready to shrug off the notion, then he decided to reflect on his own life. Growing up for Connor hadn't been easy, and he'd known his fair share of alcoholics that were more than just that. They were people, just people that were unfortunately subjected to such a harsh addiction.

"I know what you mean. But Frog's such a dick-ass. He's given me such a hard time all year, as if I deserve it."

"I know, Connor, but there's a chance that he's not such a bad person underneath the alcoholism. This person that we've all been seeing, maybe it's something entirely different that was manufactured by the drinking."

Connor gave Pete a long look, analyzing him. "When did you start caring so much for the well-being of the teachers?"

He rubbed behind his neck, averting his glance from Connor's eyes. "I-I couldn't tell you. I just saw him in there, sitting like that and it got me thinking. We should do the right thing. I mean, you know, we did a lot of wrong recently."

Connor stared at him for a moment before responding. "It wasn't our fault."

A few beats later, and Connor and Pete stepped into Frog's room. The hustle and bustle of the outside was quelled soon after, with Pete closing the door behind them.

"Who's ther-" Frog hiccuped, then looked up for a moment. "Oh, it's just Connor and the other one..."

"Uh, Pete, sir."

"'Philippe'? Speak up, please?"

"What's wrong with you, Frog?" Connor prompted. "What's your damage? What has you down in the dumps?"

"Eh, what fuckin' doesn't might be a better question. I'm about to lose my goddamned job, I'm ar- already in the process of losing my mind over that fucking fat fucking clown, Hattrick. 'Parently the new class president is trying to narc on me, and that's just great. Just fantastic. So, yeah, I'm feeling like shit, kids."

Connor paused, then replied, "You seem more eloquent than usual."

"I'm not as sloshed as usual. Thus, more sadness slips on through."

Connor and Pete watched in uncomfortable silence as Frog took a long swig of a bottle of scotch he held in one hand. As it came off his lips, he took a deep breath.

"That's the stuff..."

"Come on, Mr. Frog, you've gotta stop this," Pete urged.

"Yeah?" Burp. "Why?"

"Because you're obviously destroying yourself, and your chances of continuing to teach here. You must have started here for a reason, sir."

"Yeah. A reason. A reason that lives in cash registers, and never seems to nuzzle its way into my wallet for very long. That reason. Hey, as long as we're having a nice, little comversation," he slurred, "lemme tell you kids a little something about life."

Connor leaned on a nearby desk, wincing as it scraped the floorboards. "Okay."

"Life is a- a-a-a cold-hearted, icy bitch. If she were a woman, I'd hit her. No, no, I wouldn't. God, no, I wouldn't hit a woman, kids. I'm really not that type of person."

Connor frowned, then faced Pete. "We're really here trying to help this guy?"

"H-hang on," Frog muttered, one eye lazily squinted while the other focused on the students. "'Help me'? You're here to... to help me?"

"That was the idea, yeah," Pete responded.

Frog looked away from the two for a moment. "Huh." Another swig. "Guess I just wasn't expecting anyone to want to help me out. I thought you two knuckleheads were here to make fun of me in my, uh, state here."

"As much as I'd probably enjoy that," Connor started, "and as much as you tend to remind me of my past step-dad figures, your misery is starting to bum me out. Why don't you let us help you sober up, you washed up, old bastard?"

"Ha! There is a little kindness in this cold world!" Frog proceeded to chuckle and pump a fist in the air. "Huzzah. All right, kids, if you wanna help little old me, go to Ms. Worm. You do know who that beautiful, sexy, sexy woman is, right?"

"Ugh, yeah."

"'Sexy' isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe Ms. Worm," Pete mentioned.

Frog shrugged, drunkenly waving the bottle through the air as he responded, "Well, of course. You're gay, so of course you don't want a woman's big, luscious behind in your face."

"I-I'm not though."

Frog tilted his head like a confused dog. "No? Huh. Well, that Benji kid used to come in here and tell me all about how gay you are. No shame in that, you know? He jus-"

Connor groaned. "Fucking Benji. I thought he didn't attend classes."

"Well," Frog chuckled, "he doesn't. See, he and I had a little something going on 'under the radar' as it were. He doesn't have to attend, but still gets nice, shimmery grades in exchange for a little of the ol' 80 proof," he slurred, waving the bottle so close to Pete's face that he backed up, droplets of scotch staining his Bullworth jacket.

"'Course that bastard would do something like that," Connor growled, clenching his fists. "Yet another example of Benji and Evan working together under our noses; how else could he get ahold of alcohol?"

"C-calm down, Connor," Pete soothed. "Mr. Frog, w-what was that about seeing Ms. Worm?"

"Right! Yes! The spritely old woman of my dreams! Ms. Worm is the only person who knows about my vice and, well, still cares for me."
"Sounds about right," Connor jibed.

"Go to her. Bring her this bottle," he handed it off to Pete. "You're also gonna need to find three other spares I left somewhere in the academy. Damn, I knew I'd forget where I left those..."

"I-I'm supposed to roam the hallways with this thing?" Pete urged.

"You don't even know where the other bottles are?" Connor questioned.

"She'll know what to do with it." Frog patted his palms on Pete's hand, making the boy noticeably uncomfortable in the process. "Oh, Pete. If only I had a son, so I could raise him to be like you..."

"Heh, o-kay there, Mr. F, I think that's enough," Pete murmured.

"So long, boyos!" Frog waved cartoonishly, leaning back in his chair.

"Jesus Christ," Connor muttered.

"Off to find the woman of my dreams and free me from the chains of my despicable fate! I'm counting on you two!" he exclaimed as Pete and Connor had already started heading off into the halls.

Once the two boys left the classroom, closing the door behind them, Frog reached into one of his drawers at his teacher's desk and uncorked another bottle of the same scotch, raising it up to his lips for another long chug.