The battlefield was a chaotic, disgusting mess. Matt Marinara and Jason
Mustard stood in the midst of it, covered in a cocktail of vomit, dog
feces, pig blood, and urine. Both could hardly see through the muck, but
somehow, through all the noise and confusion, they managed to lock eyes
and give each other a nod. It wasn't the first time they found themselves
in a bizarre showdown, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Across the field, the three leaders—Amanda, Stephanie the Juggalette
Queen, and Abigail the Wicked Witch Queen of Salem—stood facing each
other, yelling and trying to outdo one another with insults.
"This is my victory, you wannabe witch!" Stephanie shouted, dripping
Faygo soda and clearly loving every second of the madness.
"Oh, please!" Abigail sneered. "You're just a sad clown reject! I'm the
rightful ruler of this battle! Mwahaha!" she cackled, raising her arms
theatrically.
"Both of you are nuts!" Amanda snapped back, her patience at its breaking
point. "And that's coming from someone who hangs out with Backwoods's
biggest weirdos!"
But amidst the squabbling, the noise of a motor revving up caught
everyone's attention. All eyes turned toward Tyler Dougans, the rogue
Juggalo, who was busy fastening a long firetruck-style hose. One end was
attached to the massive tank on the back of his stolen truck, while the
rest of the hose snaked through an industrial power wash motor.
"What's that giant hose for, sweety?" Stephanie asked, looking at Tyler
curiously.
Tyler turned with a gleeful smirk, "The air reeks of shit and piss. It's
time to be cleansed with the sweet nectar of orange Faygo soda!" he
declared dramatically.
The entire field seemed to pause in confusion as Tyler revved up the
power wash engine. Within seconds, an immense jet of orange Faygo soda
erupted from the hose, spraying high into the air before cascading down
over the battlefield. Tyler swung the hose wildly, ensuring that every
single person in the field got completely drenched. The soda rained down
in thick waves, turning the battlefield into a sticky, citrus-scented
swamp.
Stephanie, initially alarmed by the spectacle, quickly relaxed when she
realized Tyler's intentions. "You have Milenko's blessing, my sweet
savior!" she shouted, spreading her arms as if in worship.
For a brief moment, everyone—zombies, juggalos, goths, and rebels—stood
frozen in the Faygo rain. The field was a sight to behold: drenched teens
trying to shake off the layers of filth and soda while slipping and
sliding in the muddied earth. Billy Murphy had dropped his bag of
pinecones and was now spinning around like he was part of some bizarre
heavy metal rain dance. Keith Lloyd, scowling in disbelief, had somehow
managed to hold onto his foam battle axe throughout the deluge.
However, as the truck's tank slowly drained, a new threat emerged on the
horizon: the stern silhouettes of Principal Smith of Backwoods High and
Principal Patterson of Arrow Head High. They stood on the other side of
the field, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. A group of angry Salem locals,
all clutching brooms, mops, and a few with rolling pins, flanked them.
Principal Smith's voice boomed across the field, "Alright! The party's
over!"
Principal Patterson added in a tone that brooked no argument, "Everyone,
line up. We're heading back to the buses—now!"
The students of Backwoods and Arrow Head High all exchanged nervous
glances. The battle, the absurdity, the alliances—it had all come
crashing down in the face of stern authority and very, very angry
townspeople. Tyler Dougans, still holding the now sputtering hose,
shrugged and dropped it. Almost immediately, the police swooped in and
dragged him away, yet again, for his role in the madness.
As the field quieted and the last of the orange soda dripped off leaves
and teens alike, Amanda and Derek's groups began to exchange heartfelt
farewells. Despite the chaos, despite the insanity, there was a sense of
camaraderie forged through their shared madness.
"You fought well, Backwoods High," Derek said, his face serious but a
slight grin playing at the corner of his lips.
"You too, Arrow Head," Amanda replied. She glanced at her mud-covered
friends, then back at Derek and his Wolf Pack. "I have a feeling we'll be
seeing each other yet again."
Derek nodded, "I hope so too. I just hope the next battle won't be as
nasty as this one."
Priscilla, wiping away orange soda from her eyes, sighed deeply. "I'm
bringing rubber gloves next time…"
The students of both schools began making their way to the buses,
dripping and exhausted but somehow satisfied. Principal Smith was too
busy apologizing to the Salem locals and dealing with the police to
notice Matt and Jason sneaking one last selfie in front of the field,
both giving exhausted but triumphant smiles.
The Backwoods High bus pulled away, leaving behind a field that would
likely be spoken of in Salem for generations. As the bus rolled out of
town, Matt looked out the window and saw the town's Welcome to Salem
sign, now marked with streaks of orange and splatters of something… less
pleasant.
"Never a dull moment in Salem when Backwoods High is in town," he
muttered to Jason, who gave a tired laugh in response.
And so, with sticky clothes, full hearts, and yet another crazy adventure
under their belts, the teens of Backwoods High headed home.
