Thursday, February 17, 2011

Season 1 - Episode 11 - Act III

            “It was a Tron reference,” explained Karl.
            “Well it was funny anyway,” shrugged Willy.
            “You laugh at everything on Robot Chicken even if you don’t get it.  This is because you are stupid,” said Vani.
            “Is original Tron any good?” asked Willy, ignoring the insults as they feasted on hotdogs and beer.
            Karl’s cabane was small and the downstairs was basically just a cave, probably similar to what hell might be like but the upstairs was liveable, if rustic.  The furniture was tacky but serviceable and the place finally had a working bathroom, though the septic tank had been known to back up.  And the kitchen now had electricity, though the boys preferred to make their meals on the wood stove just because it was cool and weird.  It was also ineffective so it was a good thing they ate precooked wieners and beans.  There had been a lot of farting going on lately.  Willy took a beating every time anyone let one rip.  It was pretty hilarious.
“Tron rocks!” said Jay enthusiastically.  He really liked beer.  But Tron still did rock.
            “Well no,” said Karl, shaking his head.  “Tron actually sucked.  I mean it’s awesome in that way all old school sci-fi suckage rocks but yeah, total suck.”
            Karl was such a lamebot.  He’d refused to drink anything but water and his arguments retained their logical Karl robo logic.  So boring.
            “The fat Tron guy online is more entertaining than the movie,” said Jay.  “But that’s not to say the movie isn’t entertaining.  That fat guy is just really fat.  It’s like if Willy wore spandex.”
            “You so should!” exclaimed Vani.  “Man, Tron man, Tron.  Say it a few times.  Tron, tron, tron.  Awesome!  I love ‘80s movies!  Before that people didn’t even know Frisbees could glow in the dark!
            “It sucked,” burped Willy.
            “You just said you never saw it!  It was rocksolauriosis!  It’s like, what they thought VR would be before they knew the future would be just as lame as the past!”
            “Oh, oh, oh!” Jay had just thought of something brilliant.  “You know what though?  You know what?”
            “What?” wondered Vani, eager with anticipation.
            “Lawnmower Man!”
            “Ooooh!  That had a sequel!” said Vani in a whisper, as though it was something to be kept secret from Willy because really, who else would they want to keep things secret from?

            “Where’s Marla?” asked Sarah as they got in line for the chair lift.
            Cerise had agreed to accompany the Green Girls on a more advanced hill.  She knew she’d regret it but she figured she could do one run and then go in for hot chocolate, satisfied that she’d put forth some effort.
            “She’s hooking up with Sean, duh,” explained Steph.
            “Oh she is not.  She doesn’t even like Sean.  Only an idiot would like Sean,” scoffed Sarah.
            “Marla is totally hooking up with him.  It’s like, known,” Mel assured them.
            “Marla will hook up with anyone, duh.”
            Sarah and Cerise rolled their eyes as they shuffled forward in the chairlift line. 
            “Oh my god, is that Porta-potty chick in front of us?” asked Mel.
            “It totally is,” confirmed Steph.
            “Gross!  She’s gonna infect us with her stank!”
            “Shut up!” ordered Sarah.
            “Seriously, stop being so mean,” hissed Cerise.
            “But eww, she smells!”
            When Shauna got to the front of the line the chairlift operator eyed her judgmentally and asked if she was alone.  Shauna ignored him and the operator practically yelled at her, once again asking if she was alone.  Mel and Steph laughed like hyenas and Cerise shuffled forward, taking pity on Shauna.
            “I’m with her,” she told the lift operator.
            The chairlift seat creaked up behind them and just as Cerise was about to sit down, Shauna pushed her to the ground.  The chair swept up into the air, pulling Shauna away with it.  Cerise scrambled off to the side with Sarah’s help.  The lift operator seemed nothing less than amused.
            “Oh my god!  Did you guys see that?” asked Cerise, fuming.
            “She totally pushed you!”
            “Oh my god!”
            “What a bitch!”
            “What a skank!”
            “What a ho!”
            “Are you ok, Cerise?’ asked Sarah.
            “Yeah I’m fine.  But oh my god, that was nuts!”
            “God, last time I try to be nice to that freak!” said Cerise in irritation.
            “I know, right?”
            “She was totally trying to kill you!”
            “Oh my god!  Porta-potty totally tried to kill Cerise!”
            Everyone from their class who was in line was instantly aware of the attempt on Cerise’s life.  When she got back to the chalet she was swarmed by well-wishers wanting to know all the details and witnesses who swore up and down that Porta-potty chick had been armed with an exacto knife or a switchblade and had pushed Cerise from halfway up the lift after holding the knife to her throat. 

            “If you were on Smallville would you rather be Clark Kent or Lex Luthor?” asked Vani.
            “I’d rather be Lex Luthor obviously because he had the good sense to leave that show, even though he waited about four seasons too long to go,” said Karl.
            “No but seriously though, seriously, who’s cooler?  Clark Kent or Lex Luthor?  Seriously,” asked Vani.
            “How is this even a question?  The answer is still Lex Luthor and will always be Lex Luthor,” insisted Karl.
            “Are we talking all of Superman lore or just Smallville?” asked Willy.
            “Just Smallville.”
            “Oh well then obviously Lex Luthor,” nodded Willy.
            “Even though Willy is always wrong, it’s true that Luthor’s cooler fershure,” agreed Jay.  “But I’d still choose Clark Kent ‘cause he has all the powers.”
            “Yeah, the power to suck,” scoffed Karl.
            “Heat vision!  Super hearing, super breath!  Bam!”  Jay slammed his fist down on the table, knocking dice everywhere.
            Karl pushed Jay down and stuffed a cold wiener into his mouth.
            “Man, be more Smallville you guys,” laughed Vani.
            “Wow, good callback,” snickered Willy.
            “Yes actually, I do applaud your recall,” conceded Karl.
            “How come everyone makes jokes about Smallville being gay when it’s all about Lana Lang and her magic pussy?” asked Willy.
            “You make an uncharacteristically good point, Willy,” nodded Karl.  “Especially since the focus should be on Chloe.  She’s way cooler.”
            “No way man,” said Jay, spitting out hot dog.  “Lana Lang may be a bitch but she’s hot.  I’d totally hit that.  I mean I’d do Chloe too but Lana Hot is Hotta Lang.”
            “I love how you say you’d hit that, making the erroneous assumption that you’d ever have the opportunity or the ability to sustain an erection.  Regardless, you’re on crack,” said Karl.  “Lana Suck is Sucka Lang.”
            “I dunno,” mused Vani.  “She’s a bitch as Lana Lang but Kristen Kreuk is total hotness.”
            “Agreed,” nodded Willy.
            “Crackitude.”  Karl shook his head.
            “Did you see the movie where she plays Snow White?  I had inappropriate fantasies about being one of her dwarves for months after seeing that thing.”
            “Thanks for the visual.”
            “Whatever.  Both those bitches left that show.  In the end Superman ends up with
Lois Lane
anyway so who cares who he hangs out with in the early seasons?” wondered Willy.
            They all considered this and then Jay asked the obvious. “I dunno.  Him?”
            “Speaking of Cerise,” said Willy.  “Do you think she wears matching bras and panties or just like, chooses them randomly each day?  Do you think she wears sports bras or like, lacy things?”
            Jay looked at Willy in disgust but Vani seemed to be considering the question in earnest.
            “I don’t think she wears sports bras, she’s not that flat,” said Vani.  “I mean, I may be shorter than her but sometimes I’ll wait for her to sit down first and I’ll sneak a peak down her shirt and she ain’t flattening those things.  I don’t remember what the bras looked like though.  I was concentrating on the cleavage.”
            “She has one pair of jeans that are real low riders and when she sits down you can see her panties.  She has a pair that’s like blue with yellow polka dots,” said Willy.  “It would be awesome if she had a matching bra ‘cause it would be like that song, the itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka-dot bikini.”
            “Shut up!” commanded Jay.  “I don’t wanna imagine Cerise in her underwear!”
            “Why the hell not?” asked Willy in confusion.  “You still don’t get that she’s a girl?  Or are you finally admitting to your faggosity?”
            Karl smirked in amusement.  “While I have nothing against imagining Cerise in her underwear I certainly don’t want to imagine Willy imagining her in her underwear because that inevitably involves imagining Willy beating his willy and that is something no one should ever have to imagine, or witness, so get your hand out of your pants!”
            They all understood that it was time to pummel Willy with empty beer bottles until he screamed for mercy.

            “Cerise, are you ok?”  Terry rushed to Cerise’s side as she sipped her hot chocolate while sprawled out on a sofa in the lounge with Sarah and Mel and Steph on an adjacent couch.
“Yeah, of course, what do you mean?”
            “I heard that Porta-potty chick attacked you!”
            “Total attack,” nodded Mel.
            “Murder attempt,” agreed Steph.
            “It wasn’t quite that dramatic,” smiled Cerise, secretly enjoying all the attention.
            She lifted her legs and Terry slid under them.  She laid her legs back down on his lap and he placed his hands on her knees. 
            “What happened?” he asked.
            “She was all alone at the chairlift and I felt bad for her so I went to sit next to her but when the chair came she pushed me and I fell down.”
            “She pushed you?”
            “It was totally majorly violent!” said Mel.
            “Totally!  She was like screeching and practically bit Cerise’s face off before she pushed her!”
            Cerise couldn’t help but laugh and Terry looked dubious.  He looked over at Sarah.
            “There was no screaming but she did push her,” explained Sarah.  “When the chair swept by it missed Cerise’s head by like, 2 millimetres.  It could have been way more serious but luckily Cerise falls well.”
            “Thanks for the falling lessons,” giggled Cerise.
            Terry grinned and leaned over Cerise, kissing her on the nose.  “You’re welcome.”
            “Awwww!!!!” the Green Girls swooned.
            Terry invited them to go tubing and they all enthusiastically agreed.  They met up with Terry’s friends and it actually wasn’t that weird.  Cerise was glad the Green Girls had come along because she might have felt awkward otherwise but as it was, they were all one big gang and it was pretty cool.  Everyone asked about the Porta-potty attack and Cerise let the Green Girls tell the story their way.  The cool kids were all pretty impressed by Cerise’s bravery in the face of toilety stank.  Even Erica Mackey seemed fascinated by the experience, though she implied that it was Cerise’s own fault for taking pity on Porta-potty in the first place.  Terry assured Cerise that she shouldn’t worry about Erica’s opinion since she was a bitch anyway. 
It was a pretty awesome day ‘cause even though they were all hanging out as a group, Terry paid a lot of attention to Cerise and she always sat in his lap as they slid down the hills.  It was a comfortable place to be.

            “Rock da house, rock da house, rock da, rock da, rock da house…” Vani bopped up and down while singing into an empty beer bottle.
            Jay danced as well.  “Rock it!  Rock da hooooouuuuuussssse!”
            “Rock.  Da.  House.” Burbed Willy.
            “Karlotron!” sang Vani, pointing to Karl.
            Karl sat back and recorded the boys on his camera.  “You know, you guys aren’t as funny as you think you are.  I think Willy is actually transcending space and time with the power of his bad breath.  One more burp and I think we’ll all implode.”
            “Suck. It,” burped Willy.
“This is complete suckletron,” said Karl in disgust.
            “Is that like suck but to the power of Tron?” asked Jay.
            “We are of one mind,” nodded Karl.  “Which is disturbing, considering your current mental state.”
            “ROCK DA HOUSE!” screeched Jay in response.
            Terry invited Cerise and her friends to join him and the gang for dinner.  The lesser Green Girls could be a bit annoying but Sarah Wong was cool and it was fun to hang out as one big group.  Terry could tell that Erica resented Cerise and the Greens’ inclusion but that just made it all the more fun.  As long as Karine was cool with it he didn’t care what the others thought.
            “Oh my god, what is that stench?” said one of the Greens while holding her nose.
            Porta-potty chick was shuffling by with her food tray.  They all joined in the taunts and while Cerise didn’t say anything, she nevertheless laughed at the jokes so Terry let himself laugh too.
            “Oh my god, is Marla Fitzpatrick sitting with the Krells?  I thought she was with Sean Price these days,” said Christina.
            “Oh my god, she’s totally getting double teamed by the Krells,” snickered Erica.
            “I hear she has gang bangs like all the time!” said one of the Greens and the other agreed that it was totally true.
            Taffy and Rosenbaum were trying to get karaoke going.  They’d been trying every night; it was pretty pathetic.  Old people singing was so weird.  They were doing that old Wang Chung song from the ‘80s and trying to get everyone to join in but obviously no one did.
            “You have to pick a song we know!” said Sarah.
            “Yeah, we weren’t even born when that song came out,” agreed Karine.
            “Now I feel old,” whined Taffy comically. 
            He and Rosenbaum searched through the song book, looking for something from the 21st century.

            “We’re the brews.  Sporting anti-swastika tattoos!  Oi Oi we’re the boys.  Orthodox, hesidic, O.G. Ois.”
            Jay and Vani lead the singing, with Karl and Willy providing backup vocals.  As the song went on, their voices rose in volume until finally Jay, Vani and Karl were yelling in Willy’s ears.  He tried to swat them away but they switched to making white noises while dancing around him.
            “Quit it!” he demanded, throwing punches wildly.
            “Quit it,” mocked Karl.
            Willy tried to climb over the couch to escape but ended up tripping over himself and landing flat on his face.  Naturally, the others laughed heartily and Karl snapped some pictures.
            “I hate you guys!” whined Willy from the floor.
            “Aww, poor wittle willytard,” said Vani in a baby voice.
            “You’re such assholes!  I hate you all!”
            What happened next was almost incomprehensible.  If Jay hadn’t been there to witness it himself he might not have believed it really happened.  Well, he’d believe it, because Willy really was that lame, but still, incredible.  What happened was this: Willy started to cry.  Actual tears flowed from his eyes as he scrambled to his feet.  Jay, Vani and Karl stared at him, utterly dumfounded.  Willy stumbled downstairs and the others followed quietly.  Without even putting on shoes, tears still streaming down his face, Willy yanked open the door and lurched outside, slamming the door behind him.
            They all looked at each other in shock and awe and then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

            Apparently there were no modern songs in the chalet’s karaoke repertoire.  The best they could do was ‘90s music.  Taffy turned the TV so everyone could see the lyrics and he started the song.
            “I had visions, I was in them.  I was looking into the mirror...  Come on everybody!  To see a little bit clearer.  The rottenness and evil in me.”
            Rosenbaum joined him, clapping her hands and Terry figured he wasn’t the only one getting flashbacks to square dancing.  “Fingertips have memories.  Mine can’t forget the curves of your body.  And when I feel a bit naughty.  I run it up the flagpole and see who salutes but no one ever does…  Wait, is this song appropriate?”
            Everyone laughed.  It was totally gross to see Rosenbaum in all her gross oldness singing about jacking off but it was also kind of undeniably awesome.
            Andrew jumped up and joined the teachers at the mikes, enthusiastically dancing along to the song while he sang.  He was closely followed by Karine and Sarah and eventually all the kids from drama had stood up and were singing along.  Except Cerise.  She stayed with Terry.  He loosened his grip on her hand so she could get up if she wanted to but she stayed seated and silent.  But eventually everyone in the caf was singing along and even Terry got swept up in the insanity.  He and Cerise stood up and he placed himself behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist.  They both swayed together while singing along.
 “I’m not sick but I’m not well.  And I’m so hot cause I’m in hell.  Been around the world and found that only stupid people are breeding.  The cretins cloning and feeding and I don’t even own a TV.”

They weren’t supposed to leave the cafeteria until given permission but no one had noticed Shauna leave.  They were all too busy singing and having fun and being assholes.  The dorms weren’t all that close to the caf but Shauna could still hear the singing drifting up the stairs.  The floor even seemed to be shaking from the loudness of the song.
“Put me in the hospital for nerves and then they had to commit me.  You told them all I was crazy.  They cut off my legs now I’m an amputee, god damn you.”

“He’s gonna freeze to death out there,” said Karl when he had adequately composed himself.
They all put on their coats and boots and ventured outside.  It was pitch black and obviously they hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight so they lit their way with their ipods.  This actually provided decent lighting since the white of the snow acted as a reflector.  They managed to find a set of footprints and followed them until they found Willy passed out in the backyard.  They kicked him to wake him up but all he did was groan without moving.  Shit.  This would be pain.

Terry kissed the top of Cerise’s head and she tipped her head back.  He lowered his face and kissed her cute little button nose and then her lips. 
“I’m not sick but I’m not well.  And I’m so hot cause I’m in hell.  I’m not sick but I’m not well.  And it’s a sin to live so well.  I wanna publish zines.  And rage against machines.  I wanna pierce my tongue.  It doesn’t hurt, it feels fine.”

Holy shit he was heavy.  Trust the fattest one in the group to pass out in the snow.  After taking a few more pictures, Jay and Karl had each taken one of Willy’s arms and they dragged him back towards the cabane while Vani helped by pulling down Willy’s pants.
It wasn’t so bad as they were dragging him through the snow but once they reached the door it got tougher.  Karl yelled at Vani to lift Willy’s legs so they could drag him over the doorstep.  Finally they got him inside and dropped his limbs unceremoniously.  Vani shut the door and they all stared at Willy’s limp body.
“Well ok then,” shrugged Karl.
“Should we give him a blanket?” asked Jay.
“Should we turn his head so if he pukes he doesn’t choke on it?”
They all agreed this seemed reasonable and they pushed Willy onto his side as best they could, propping him up with some firewood logs.  They put a bucket next to him in the hopes that he would have the sense to use it if he woke up and they draped his sleeping bag over him after debating whether or not it would be funnier to soak the sleeping bag with urine first.  They decided to leave it untainted and retreated upstairs for a bit of late night gaming while Willy snored below. 

            Shauna closed her eyes but it was impossible to sleep with the thumping below.  She wondered what would happen if she broke into Cerise’s room and slept on her bed.  Or if she trashed it.  She could poor shampoo over all their stuff.  Or she could rip up the mattresses with her razor blade.  Or she could cut herself and write nasty messages in her own blood. 
            She did none of these things.  All she did was lie there and listen.
“The trivial sublime.  I’d like to turn off time.  And kill my mind.  You kill my mind.”

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