The Finger that Caused Everything
"Waylon Moosberger,"My mom called. "Come down here! It's your
first day of middle school! Get ready!"
"I'M IN THE EFFING BATHTUB!" I screamed downstairs. Bathing is a
real issue between us. My parents always think I spend too much
time in the bathtub. I didn't care, though. They usually call me
down so I could get out of the bathtub, for some "Important"
stuff. Yeah, right. More like a lame 70's song they wanted to
"Your friends are here, gawd dammit!" She screamed again. I
rolled my eyes, got out of the bathtub, put on some clothes, and
My friends really were here. All zero of them. I glared at her.
"But you spend too much time bathing for an twelve-year old," she
complained. I rolled my eyes yet again. She only takes a bath
once a month. I have the honorable duty of cleaning the hair out
of the bottom of the tub. I grabbed my coat, backpack, and headed
to school. My mom walked out with me, hugged me one last time,
and drove off to work. My dad, Bob, did the same. He was an
I grumbled all the way to the bus stop. I don't know why. I guess
I just get P.Oed for every little thing. I waited for the bus
while the school bully, Johnny Royer, towered below me. He was
litterally, a midget to a midget. Not to mention chubby. He had
been held back five times in elementary school, and he had barely
passed sixth grade. Now here he was, in middle school.
"Gimme all yo monay, runt," he growled at me. More like he was
the runt. Seriously, he was so small I could punt him across a
football field. I actually did, once, and then I got expelled
from one of my elementary schools. But that's beside the point.
"No thanks, little boi," I said cooly. "You wouldn't want to have
my dirty, ugly cash, would you?"
Johnny's lower lip trembled.
That's when he started throwing a huge temper tantrum. And by
that italizased "huge", I meant really HUGE! He screamed and
cried, so hard that I was frantically searching for money in my
backpack, just for him to shut up.
"WHAI!!!!!!!!!!! NO NO NO NO!!! I WANT YO MONAY!!!!" He screamed
while an ocean was rolling down his cheeks. And I mean that quite
The neighbors were stepping outside their houses now, to see what
the hell was going on.
Meanwhile, Johnny was crying harder than ever. "WHAAAA!! Y U NO
GIVE ME MAI MONAY!!!!!! I HATE YOU!!!!!! I REALLY!!! REALLY!
HATE! YOU!" His words came up in between loud obnoxious sobs.
Then, a lightbulb flashed on top of my head. I swatted it away,
then I dashed toward Mrs. Smith's house. She was the only
neighbor I knew, since I tutored her kid once. When I came up to
her door and asked her for money, she slapped me in the face.
Mrs. Smith was a plump old frail ugly lady, so I didn't know she
could slap so hard.
"OW! What was that for?" I screeched in pain.
"That's for letting Larry get a 10% on his math test!" She
laughed maniacally. She stepped back into her small blue house.
"I FRICKEN HATE YOU!!! WHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! WHAAA!" Johnny was
bawling. He was tearing the branches off of nearby trees, and
kicking the sidewalk gravel out into the street. He bit into a
streetlight, and ran out into the street like the maniac he is.
Then the school bus pulled around the corner at the end of my
street, and was speeding towards the bus stop. I quickly grabbed
my neon blue backpack, and then - SPLAT! The bus had hit Johnny,
right over him. Blood spattered over the front of the bus,
completely covering the windshield. At first I was paralyzed with
shock, but then I was annoyed. Why hadn't someone done this
before? I thought. I stuck out my middle finger out to the bus.
Detention was a drag. As it turns out, the bus driver could
clearly see me flipping off the bus. He had talked about it to
the principal about it forever, and at last he and the principal
had come out and told me I'd be serving an all day detention.
Since it was the first day of school, I would be serving it in
the library, instead of the detention room. I thought I would be
the only one there. But Hazel and a couple of other guys I didn't
know where there too, sitting at a big round table. Hazel was one
of the bad girls at my old school. I regularly tried to avoid
her, because she beat up people for no reason. The only chair
left was next to her, so I decided to be brave and take it.
"What're you in for, punk?" she mumbled angrily as I sat down
next to her.
"Flipping off a bus," I said nonchalantly. "You?"
"Beatin' up some kid. Called me a -"
"Hazel!" some libriarian said sternly. "Don't use that language
around lower grades like him! He's the one who follows your
footsteps. Set a good example."
I was mildly offended by the way she said I followed in her
footsteps. My brand of bullying was different. I used my words
and clever lies. It rarely came to physical abuse, unlike Hazel.
She beat up other kids just because she could. In fact, I rarely
bullied at all. Just people who bullied me. And believe me, there
were a lot of bullies around here. Especially in here - Oakville
Middle School. Walking through the halls, I could tell who was a
bully and who wasn't. It was sort of like a sixth sense. I guess
it didn't matter anyway, though. The next ten minutes of
detention was silent until some weird kid named Ralph spoke up. I
knew him from my old school. Back in elementary, he was that
quiet kid who whimpered and cried alot. He still is. He also
tends to vomit alot. "Hazel, why do you have a new phone? Didn't
you get a new one last week?" Well, to answer your question,
Ralph, she did get a new phone last week. In fact, she got a new
phone last week, too, not to mention the week before that, I
thought sarcastically. It was common knowledge around here that
Hazel was the most spoiled kid in the school. She litterally gets
something new each week. It turns out that Hazel was thinking
along the same thoughts I was thinking, only her words came out
really harsh. I guess she gets P.O.ed at every little thing too.
At least I control my anger. She stood up from her chair and
began cussing out Ralph, calling him - well, stuff you don't want
to know. She was whisked away into the office in a blink of an
eye. Ralph was so emotional he put his face on the table and
began crying. I didn't know what else to do, so I awkwardly rose
and patted him on the back across the table. The other detentees
looked simply baffled, then went back to playing on their cell
phones and iPods or whatever.
The rest of the day was just like a normal school day. Boring,
boring, and boring. I wished I had bought in a video game or
something to pass the time. After the all-day detention, the
principal very kindly told me that he wanted to schedule a
meeting with my parents. So I very kindly told him that he was a
fricken idiot, and he should go die in a hole. So he very kindly
told me that I was going to have dentenion for the rest of the
week. I smiled, and I very kindly thanked him for his gift. He
very agressively gave me a piece of paper and told me to give it
to my mom. I thanked him again, and I tossed the paper in the
shredder as I walked out. Then, the principal told me I now had a
two weeks' worth of detention. I shrugged it off, like I didn't
care. But on the inside, I was actually grining, because I had
gained a little respect for Hazel for her outburst with Ralph.
And I knew Hazel was gonna be there, too. She probably had at
least a month in that library.
Today, when I got off the "special" bus I'm supposed to ride for
the rest of the year, I went right down to Classroom 666, the
detention room. As I entered the room, I felt kind of honored. I
was the first-ever kid to go into the detention room for the
year. The rest of the prisoners haven't arrived yet, so I just
sat myself down on the wooden round table, and waited. I took a
good look around the room. Awe flowed through me. Generations and
generations of seventh and eighth grade kids had wasted their
lives in this very room. Way back when the school was built, The
custodians always did a througough cleanup of each room every
year. The detention room was always the messiest room. After
about twenty years, the Oakville custodians just decided to quit
on the detention room altogether, and then after that, the place
was never touched. Now I know what it's like when you don't do
chores around the house. The paint was peeling, some of it even
washed off from the walls. Broken pieces of who knows what were
scattered across the floor. There was a stain on the carpet that
I almost stepped in. But what was most interesting was the walls.
Almost every square inch had been covered in pencil lead. It
looked as if every kid who had ever been in the detention room
had written something on the walls. I read the pencil marks of
kids from who knows how long ago.
MR. SAMSON SUCKZ!!!!!!!
JESSE LOVES CHRISTINA!!!!
PENGUINS DESERVE LOVE!!!!
MY PANTS ARE MESSY!!!!
WHY, DETENTION WHY?
And much, much more. I was just examining one that said I think
justin bieber is gay when I heard footsteps into the room. I
whipped around my head to see Hazel, staring at me in my face.
"You know, I wrote that one," she said as she proudly pointed to
the inscription I was reading.
I didn't really know what to say, so I just blurted out, "You're
"I don't really consider it poetry," she replied thoughtfully.
"It's like your own personal diary, where you can write your
feelings, but still stay anonymous."
I smiled for the first time school let in. It was very rare for
Hazel to show her passive side.
"Go ahead, write something," she said. "It's not like they screen
the handwriting. Write what you truly feel about yourself."
I thought about it for a moment, then I wrote, Everybody's an
idiot except me. I turned my back to let Hazel see, and she
smiled right at me. Then she kneeled beside me and wrote, Too
true. With an arrow pointing to my sentance. Then, I heard a
sharp gasp and bout of crying. Ralph and some other guys had come
into the room, with a few teachers. Hazel and I got up off the
floor and onto the chairs around the round table. Everyone else
except the teachers sat down too. The rest of the day was spent
trying to stop Ralph from being such a crybaby.
I stepped up on the "special" bus, feeling pretty good about
myself. Not only had I made friendly contact with an alien
species called Hazel, I had also learned the names of the two
guys who had shown up yesterday and today. Their names were Harry
Butts and Sean Something. I didn't know his last name. They were
eighth graders. They got in trouble for slapping someone with a
piece of pizza on the last day of last year, so they had to serve
their detentions this year. I smiled a little. Harry and Sean
actually weren't that agressive, not at all actually. I was
actually liking our little detention group. I'd miss it when it
was over. I was starting to think that I actually had friends
there. We also had finally gotten Ralph out of his depressed
slunch, or whatever he was in, but he still flinches whenever he
Yeah, we're still working on that.
Today after I got off the bus, I realized that tomorrow would be
my last-ever day in detention. I grit my teeth. I would miss the
scribbly wall diary, and not to mention the peeling paint and the
God-knows-what carpet stain. I'm not usually the kind of guy that
mopes around when something bad is happening, so I went straight
to brainstorming. I knew Hazel, Harry, and Sean were still gonna
be there. I can't explain why, I knew. It was like a law of
physics. I wrote down something in my daily journal.
Waylon Moosberger's Laws of School Physics
1. Wherever a weak specimen appears in a hallway, a strong
external force will shove said specimen into a locker and ask it
for money. Therefore, the teacher will come out of it's lair and
walk the external force to the principal's office. Amen.
I closed my journal, and began thinking. What could I possibly do
to get myself another two weeks' worth of detention? It's harder
than it sounds, because the teachers know it's not a punishent
now. And I can't stand regular classes. I just can't. Sitting
outside the principals office for 7 hours is like a field day to
me. My mind was blank, so I opened my journal, and propped up my
pencil and closed my eyes, and let my subconcious do the work. I
felt the pencil moving under my hands; it felt a little weird. It
seemed like hours before I opened my eyes, and when I did, there
were definitely words written there. Well, sort of.
1,000, if you're a superstitious freak. Five words, to be
And do you want to know what they were?
A picture of a toilet.
I had my plan all figured out by the time I went into the
detention room that fateful morning. I knew exactly what to do. I
was early at the detention room today, so, I just went past the
table -stepping carefully over the carpet stain- And right where
the wall was. I looked at one of my older diary entries:
Everyone's an idiot but me. Next to Hazel's too true, note there
was another one. Hah! Yeah right! If you weren't so retarded, why
are you in this hell hole in the first place? Ha, ha! My hands
clenched at the sight of it. But then, I smiled sweetly to
myself, closed my eyes, and let my subconcious do the work, yet
again. It felt weird to be feeling the pull of the pencil under
my fingers, but Hazel said I could speak my mind on here. And
that was exactly what I was doing. When I opened my eyes, I had
drawn a picture of a - "Waylon! We need to get out of this place.
Let's escape to my Grandma's house in Mexico!" I turned around to
see Hazel standing behind me. Ralph and Sean were behind her. I
notvived they had no teachers behind her, so I knew this was
serious business. Ralph was whimpering. Sean looked dissapointed.
Evidently, Hazel hadn't told them what they were agreeing to when
she asked them to come with her.
I went straight to the questions. "How do you want to get there?"
Of course, I actually knew how to get there, I just wanted to
approach the subject carefully.
"I don't know, maybe we could crawl through a drainage pipe?"
said Ralph, cowering.
That was so close to my idea that I flinched. The movement caught
"Do you have any ideas?" She asked innocently, but she was giving
me a look that clearly said, If you don't have an idea, we're
stuck here. These morons barely understand that we're trying to
A moment of earsplitting silence followed this.
I had rehearsed this speech in my head a lot of times, but when
the words came out of my mouth, it wasn't exactly what I had in
mind. "Um, well, like, I had been, um, like, reading this book
about like, um, plumbing. And, my um, grandmother's sister's
friend's granddaughter's brother's son friend's mother is REALLY
fat, so she has like um, a big toilet that we can um,-"
"Crawl through." Ralph finished off my sentance weakly. His legs
Is there any such thing of a phobia of toilets? I asked myself.
I'll have to look it up.
But now wasn't the time for self-trivia. Hazel's mouth opened
like she was going to say something, but some kid opened the door
to the detention room. He was wearing gray shorts, and a black
hoodie with tennis shoes.
"I couldn't help hearing your little bathroom escape plan," he
said. "Gotta love glass mugs." He held up an empty glass mug of
coffee, probably from the teacher's lounge. "Can I come?" He set
the mug on the table.
"My name's Connor, by the way," he said. He shook everyone's
hand, but Hazel retracted in disgust when Connor reached out for
her hand. She motioned the group into a huddle, like a football
"Let's take a vote, who want's Connor to escape school with us?"
"Me," I whispered
"Me," Sean breathed.
"The more the merrier," said Harry quietly.
Ralph was crying and sobbing silently and didn't say anything, so
we counted his vote for both descisions.
"Alright, that's a majority," Hazel retracted from the group, and
turned around to face Connor. They shook hands.
"Operation Ever Wonder What's Down the Toilet is so on," said
"See? I told you so! It's that big!" I exclaimed.
No, we weren't talking about body parts, if that was what you
were thinking. We were all standing in my grandmother's sister's
friend's granddaughter's brother's son's mother's bathroom. I
think my explanation of the toilet needed more exaggeration. The
room litterally had to be stretched because the toilet was so
big. I'm not kidding.
"Whoa!" Connor jabbered annoyingly, leaving echoes around the
room. "Are you sure this isn't a swimming pool?"
Harry just stared.
Sean stared at Harry. I made a mental note to myself to watch out
Ralph was amazed enough to talk. "Imagine how big the bedroom
Hazel just said, "Wow...."
I was getting bored of all this "Ooooh, Aaaah," talk. I've
already seen this before, and besides, we're here to escape
school. Not to admire the pretty little toilets. Well, "little"
wouldn't be the right word. How about -
Creak - The door was opening. I looked up, and there I was, face
to face with my grandmother's sister's friend's granddaughter's
brother's son's mother. And my god, was she big.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!?!!?!?!!" Her Hulk-ish voice rumbled. It
shook the whole house. "Whoa! Ahh!" Connor, Hazel, Ralph, Harry
and Sean fell into the enourmous toilet. A second later, I heard
footsteps, and a little boy in a blue-striped shirt appeared
behind his mother.
"Lance, GO AWAY. I GOTTA TAKE A REALLY BIG POOP." Her voice
emphasized on the word "Poop."
A small voice cried out. "Wa-a-ait!" It took me a second or two
to recongize it as Connor's. He climed up out of the toilet
itself, and on to the toilet bowl, dripping wet. How he made it
on there, I don't know.
What is he doing? I paJohnnyed. He can't possibly do what I think
he' s about to do.
Connor made direct eye contact with the blue-striped shirt boy.
"Yo mama's so fat, when she tripped over on 4th Avenue, she
landed on 12th!" Connor called out, lashing out his arms like a
Oh, God, no....
"Oh yeah?" Lance retorted. "Yo mama so fat, when she sits around
the house, SHE SITS AROUND THE HOUSE!"
In utter horror, I watched as an epic Yo Mama battle unfolded
right before my eyes.
On a gigantic toilet, of all places.
The jokes kept flying by.
"Yo mama's so fat, the neighborhood kids use HER as a
"Yo mama's so stupid, she put paper on the television and called
it paper view!"
"Yo mama's so ugly, when she entered the ugly contest, they said,
"Sorry, no professionals.""
"Yo mama's so ugly, Bob the Builder looked at her and said, "I
CAN'T FIX THAT!""
"Yo mama's so old, I told her to act her age, and she died!"
"Yo mama's so dirty, you can't tell where the mud stops and she
"Yo mama's teeth are so rotten, they look like yellow dice!"
And on, and on and on and on.
And with each joke, Lance's mom's face kept getting redder, and
deeper, until finally, purple. Her veins were popping out. I took
another look at Connor and punched him in the face. He fell
backward into the toilet.
"Lance! Flush the toilet! Quick!" He followed my orders and
sprang up, and raced across the toilet boil and lunged himself
towards the tiny lever. I dived into the toilet, and a second
later, I felt myself spinning. And spinning. And spinning. I
heard a splash. More spinning. Then, I felt myself going
downwards. I held my breath. Water was all around me. What seemed
like hours later, we all washed up in this sewer. The sewer water
was deep, with little sidewalks on the edges of the sewer walls,
with the occasional torchlight hooked on the walls. I climbed up
on the little sidewalk thingy. Hazel did too. Ralph came in, and
we lifted him out of the greenish-yellow water. Connor came
rushing in, and we all kneeled down to help him up. Harry came
next. He was the worst out of all of us. Breathless, shaking,
crying, and dead scared. I left Hazel to talk to Harry. I rounded
on Connor. Before I could get a word out, Connor spoke.
"Sean's dead," Connor said wearily. His eyes were teary.
I stared Connor straight in the eye. "What happened to Sean?" I
Connor eyes were wide. I asked him again.
"What happened to Sean?"
"He - he was - " We all spun around to face Ralph, who was crying
too, now that we noticed it.
"Go on," I said softly this time.
"He - He was laughing at Yo Mama jokes," he blurted out
breathlessly. He pointed at Connor. "Laughing real hard. But then
his head went underwater and-" Ralph burst out crying again.
"Where's his body?" Asked Hazel softly. I flinched. I haven't
seen her so this compassioSean before.
Connor gasped for air. "Dunno. I lost him. I still have his
overshirt." He took out a crumpled piece of fabric out of his
pants pocket. I got up and placed it around a shivering Ralph.
"I HAVE IT!" Lance came rushing out of the pipe that led to his
mom's toilet, with Sean's body floating beside him. I helped him
up. Then I heaved up the body. "Why the heck are you here?" I
demanded. "Aren't you supposed to be with yo mama?"
"Nope," Lance smiled sweetly as he set Sean's body down. "Do you
think you guys are the only ones who want to go down a toilet?"
"We don't want to go down a toilet." It was Hazel speaking up
this time. "We're escaping school."
I sat down on the edge of the sidewalk thing. This was going to
be a long night.
I woke up to the smell of raw sewage.
No, I corrected myself. Fresh sewage. It seems as though Lance's
mom had finally taken her dump.
"Eeeeew," complained Harry. "This chocolate doesn't taste good."
"Harry, nothing tastes good in a sewer, I said groggily.
"Not even your mom?" Harry joked.
"Well, it's about time!" Connor was saying.
"About what? About time your mom actually touched the treadmill?"
"Hey! That was actually kind of mean!" Connor complained.
"Yo Momma Jokes are mean+'t to be mean, dog," Lance countered.
We didn't need these two fighting again. I spoke up.
"Stop fighting, you guys! Even if it is play-fighting. We need to
work together here."
"Who uses the word "dog " as an insult anyway?" I went on.
"Your mom," said Harry quietly.
"Hmmm, maybe, I don't know, I think, maybe, William Shakespeare?"
Lance said in a mocking tone. "Did you guys know that Shakespeare
even origiSeand Yo Mama Jokes? You have to respect the guy."
"Shut up, dog," Connor scorned.
Lance jumped at his chance. "Thy mother's of my generation.
What's she, if I be a dog?"
Everyone burst out laughing. I was just simply confused. What did
that mean? Connor just stood there and said, "WHAT THE BLEEP?"
"It's a classic," Lance joked.
I went next to Hazel and whispered, "Epic Yo Momma Battle.
Shakespearean Style." She giggled.
"Thou art be proud," she whispered back.
I guess Harry must have overheard her, because he said, "Thou art
must take a big dump! Thou art poop on floor, master?"
"Better be quick," I whispered sternly.
After Harry had taken his dump on the floor, he kneeled down and
split the waste into five seperate parts with his finger. After
that, he gave each of us one piece.
"WHAT THE BLEEP ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?!" Hazel
"It's simple," he said, as he was passing around the poop. "If
we're gonna stay in here for long, we're going to need food. Why
can't we just throw pieces of poop at sewer rats, and while
they're dazed, we pounce on them!"
"I have a better idea," said Connor. He had an amused tone in his
"What?" I asked uneasily. Oh God, is he really going to do what I
think he's going to do?
"POOP FIGHT!" He yelled.
Hazel threw the first offical shot of the war. She threw poop at
me, but I ducked and it hit Lance straight in the face. I threw
some of my poop at Hazel, and it got her belly. Connor got me
with a behind attack, though. I threw poop at him, but he dodged
it. I threw another piece at him, and it landed a direct hit. I
tried to throw at Lance, but I missed. Ralph was even in the
fight, too. He was throwing poop rapidly in all directions, not
caring where which poop landed.
I bent down to pick up another piece of poop, but someone had hit
my butt, making it look like I pooped my pants. I spun around to
see Hazel again. I rounded up my arm and threw a shot of poop at
her. I bent down agan to pick up some more poop, and when I stood
back up with the poop, I found myself looking at Harry, standing
precariously over the edge of the sidewalk thingy. Through all
the turmoil, a haywire piece of poop hit him square in the chest,
and he was waving his arms to keep his balance. But it was too
late. Harry fell backwards with a KER-PLUNK into the sewers, and
he was washed away. His figure bobbed up and down, but then it
was out of sight when it went across a corner.
No one spoke for God knows how long - A second or a century, who
knows? The only thing that brought me back to reality was Hazel's
Hazel commanded, "Cmon, everyone, let's just walk around the
sewers to see if we can catch any rats." "Lance, bring Sean's
body with you. Maybe he can be used as a bait."
Reluctantly, Lance slung the body over his shoulder. His eyes
were teary. But in minutes, the old humor got back in his eyes
again, and everyone was insulting everyone in Shakespearean.
"Thou mammering bat-fowling fustilarian!" Lance mumbled.
"Tru dat, bro." Connor gave Lance a silent high five.
Ralph just mumbled, "you sir, are a fishmonger!"
The next ten minutes were spent insulting Hazel, Shakespeare
Great. And I have to live in the sewers with these mangled
But then there was one insult that, I guess, pushed Hazel over
"Hey, Hazel! Hazel, hey!" Lance was trying to get Hazel
attention. "Thou mangled shard-bone ratsbane!" Another burst of
Hazel spun around, quick as a bunny. She was P.Oed. You don't
want to get Hazel P.Oed.
"THOU BOOTLESS HASTY-WITTED PIGNUT! MAY GOD TEAR YE SOUL TO
SIXTEENTHS! YE BE SENT TO THE DEEPEST LAYER IN HELLE! GOD COMPELL
YOU! THOU PAUNCHY IDLE HEADED COXCOMB! THOU CHURLISH FOOL-BORN
She did say a couple of other Shakespearean stuff on here, too,
but I don't think I'm allowed to say them.
Bursts and bursts of laughter. But then something bad happened.
But by the time I saw, it was too late. Connor stumbled backward
on to edge of the concrete thingy, and then - SPLASH! Connor fell
into the waters. The laughter changed into screams. Connor was
already down the sewers and around a corner by the time I
extended my hand to help him back up.
Everyone was shocked. Well, except Hazel.
She looked down at the waters below pitifully, and she closed her
eyes and said solenmly, "And then there were three." And walked
We just stood there, transfixed.
fell to the floor, weeping, screaming and crying.
"Well, aren't you guys just coming?" Hazel demanded.
"Hazel, two people just died today," Lance said.
"He's right," I vouched. "Can't we stay here the night?"
"Oh, people die every day. Lance, you don't have to carry that
ugly scoundrel any longer. Instead, pick up this pathetic excuse
for a person." Hazel gestured toward Ralph. But Lance didn't move
a muscle. All he said was, "WAIT!"
"What, do you want to say your final goodbyes?" Her voice sounded
a little softer this time.
"Yes, and one other thing," Lance's eyes had an amused gleam in
them. "I've always wondered what real human tastes like." He
twisted his neck and bit a huge chunk out of Sean's arm. I
winced; I could hear the bones crunch.
Blood sputtered everywhere for a second, getting everywhere on
Lance. But all of a sudden everything stopped, and Lance was
"Mmm," he said. "Finger lickin' good."
A few days later, we found a little clearing in the sewers.
Actually, clearing would be an understatement. It's really just a
small patch of sewer sidewalk on the corner of the actual sewer.
It was uhm.... Perfect.
Too bad there was already someone there.
Another midget, this time even shorter than Lance. He was a
haggledy old man with with thread-bare clothes and wild glazed
eyes that stared right through you. He was pacing around the
clearing, staring at the celiling -Or do I call it ground?- as he
"Um, hello. What brings you here?" I called out to him. "Enjoying
this, um, lovely place?"
He stopped pacing for a second. "Grandma, is that you? Have you
finally descended down from the heavens to collect me?" He said
in a croaky voice, as if it hadn't been used for years.
Maybe it hadn't.
He sat down now, and curled himself up in the fetal position. He
seemed to be mumuring something. I went ahead of the group to
hear a bit better.
"Grandmother, oh Grandmother. It's been such a long time...." his
voice trailed off.
"I'm sorry Grandmother, I truly regret what I did. I'm sorry....
So, so, sorry....."
"Um, I'm not your grandmother," I said awkwardly. I looked back
at the rest of us. Hazel looked a bit thoughtful, Ralph was
laying face-down on the ground, crying, while Lance just looked
plain amazed. Curiously, I walked toward him.
"What?" I asked him quietly. "Do you recongize this guy?"
Lance nodded, too excited to speak.
"Why would anyone you recongize be in the toilet sewers?"
Lance's expression of excitement faded quick as a bunny, and what
was left there was pure amusement.
"I don't know, why would anyone I recongize be in the toilet
sewers?" He said mockingly. "I've been stuck in these
God-forsaken sewers for two weeks with you two, and I still don't
know any of you. At all. Hmmm, what is your name? He finished
"Never mind," I said quickly. "But how do you know him? Is he
like, a relative, or something?"
Lance shook his head. "Of course not. Remember that old
children's story about Herman Pea-Brain?" I shook my head, so he
did the explaining.
"His mom was a mean lady. Herman's mom absolutely HATED Herman
when he was born. He was given up to his grandma just seven
minutes after his birth. His grandma was the nicest person in
town. She always helped the needy, and other stuff like that. But
one fateful day, Herman's mom came over to kidnap him. He was
only nine. Once Grandma noticed Herman's dissaperance, she came
over to her daughter's house. There, Herman's mom was trying to
drown him in the toilet."
Just like Sean, I thought ominously. Lance kept on explaining.
"Then, Herman's grandma did the only thing she could do. She
flushed the toilet. Herman kept swirling, swirling, and swirling.
Then he went down the toilet. After that, police parties were
sent in to search for Herman each and every day. But no one
looked harder for him than Grandma. She searched every nook and
crevice of this place. She would look for him hours on end.
Sometimes even days. One day, she got an infectious bite by a
sewer rat. It almost killed her. They sent her to a hospital.
They had her on life support also. Herman was proclaimed dead.
But there was one thing, that really got the worlds attention.
She put her own diamond necklace in one of the pillowcases at the
mental hospital. It was touching, becuase Grandma's life depended
on that thing. It was so she could afford her house, her food,
everything. Herman's life would have been nothing without that
necklace. Grandma would be out on the streets. Days later, they
pulled the plug because she couldn't afford the medical bill. Her
ashes were flushed down the toilet."
I craned my neck back around to take a glance at Herman. He was
sobbing now, and murmuring some stuff I couldn't hear. Suddenly,
Herman stood up. My ears tuned in to Hazel's voice.
"Yes, this is your grandmother. I am here to guide you into the
heavens." Hazel said with a high-and-mighty inflection in her
"Now, go left! And you'll be in heaven in no time!"
Herman nonchalantly stepped over the concrete and into the
poop-and-pee stained water. His head didn't bob back up.
There wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Hazel turned around
and looked at me, a weird expression on her face. Ralph was
watching her closely, his eyes wide.
"I didn't lie," Hazel said with a slight tremor in her voice. "I
said he'd be going to heaven."
Ralph was the first to speak. Actually, he screamed. "THAT'S IT!
I'M SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR MOLDY CRAP!!! YOU THINK YOU'RE THE
PRINCESS OF THE WORLD, OH, YOU SHOULD GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT!
YOU CAN'T STAND A FULL MINUTE WITHOUT A NEW IPHONE IN YOUR HANDS!
OH, SOMEONE YOU DON'T LIKE? SURE, GO AND KILL THEM. YOU HAVE NO
EMOTIONS! Sean, Harry, Connor, AND NOW HERMAN HAVE DIED IN THIS
SEWER, AND YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!!!" He was flailing his arms now,
like a crazy person.
"Stay calm, everyone," Lance said gently. "I think you have Sewer
Fever. We need to get back up on land." Lance looked up at the
concrete celiling. "We need to find one of those sewer
Hazel caught up with the rest of us. "WAIT. THERE'S SOMETHING I
NEED TO DO."
"Waylon, I've loved you ever since we were washed down that
gigantic toilet. I've loved you ever since the moment we all put
our hands together, and started this God-forsaken trip!"
She got down on one knee, and picked up an empty toilet paper
"Waylon Moosberger, will you marry me?"
I was taken aback - getting married in a stinky SEWER in all
places. Part of me wasn't surpised, though. I've seen the way she
looks at me. My mind is so befuddled I can only come up with this
A few hours later, Ralph was standing below us, while Lance was
in front of us. Everyone was either wearing toilet paper dresses
or toilet paper togas. I sniffed the air. Does anyone really ever
get used to the sewers? I wondered. Ralph was still P.Oed at
Hazel, and I can't say I blame him. He was quiet the whole
wedding, until Lance started preaching.
"We are gathered here today, on this happy and joyous occasion,
to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.
Marriage is a solemn institution to be held in honor by all, it
is the cornerstone of the family and of the community. It
requires of those who undertake it a complete and unreserved
giving of one's self. It is not to be entered into lightly, as
marriage is a sincere and mutual commitment to love one another.
This commitment symbolizes the intimate sharing of two lives and
still enhances the individuality of each of you. If you think
there is a reason why these two shouldn't be married, speak now,
or forever hold your piece." That's when Ralph raised his hand.
Lance stared at Ralph quizzically. "Alright, why do you think
Waylon and Hazel shouldn't be married?!" He said angrily.
"Oh, no. I definitely think they should be married. It's just....
Hazel's dress." Ralph giggled.
My heart sank. Oh, god....
"Just WHAT?" Hazel retorted. She'd had enough of Ralph's crap.
"Well, it's just..." Ralph seemed to be a bit more shy, but
suddenly he brightened up.
"It's just.... I didn't know Charmin made brown toilet paper."
Ralph said innocently.
Anger surged through me. At the beginning of the wedding, you
see, Hazel had obviously picked toilet paper that was covered in,
um... Let's say, chocolate. Anyway, I had a talk with Lance and
Ralph not to mention the "chocolate" on Hazel's dress. Ralph
wasn't a very good listener.
Now I wanted to strangle Ralph.
Hazel looked down her dress. She SCREAMED! She raced down the
sewers, and I was pelting after her. She had the head start, so I
had a hard time catching up to her. She screamed again, this time
in pain. I raced toward her, and what I saw was awful.
Hazel was on the ground, and sewer gators were mauling her. There
was only a little bit of blood, thank God.
On animal instinct, I picked up a piece of poop on the floor and
howled like a coyote. I threw pieces of poop at the alligators.
Evidently, they didn't like poop very much, either. Lance and
Ralph came rushing a few seconds later.
"THROW POOP AT THEM!" They immeaditely complied, and soon enough,
poop was everywhere.
Minutes went by.
That's when something weird happened.
Connor - Connor's ghost? Came flying out of nowhere and landed
right next to me.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I screeched as I kept hurling poop at
the sewer gators.
"I'm here for ammuntion," he said simply. He pointed to the
ground. There was only a few pieces of poop left, and what was
left was very small.
I stopped throwing for a moment. "You mean you're gonna...." I
I looked away, and started to throw poop again. Even over the
chaotic din I heard, Connor, um, do his business.
"THE FIRST BATCH IS READY!" He called after a few minutes. I
reached down without looking and picked up his poop. It was
surprisingly solid. And it was glowing.
"GLOWING POOP?!" I yelled in disbelief.
"It's special angel poop," he said quickly. "Now throw, baby,
I threw as fast and as hard as I could.
It had an effect almost immeadietley. The gators backed off, and
they were heading back towards the water.
Whoa, this angel poop stuff really works.
"SCREW THE POOP! We need to teach these - these - things a
lesson," Now I saw Harry swimming down the sewers. He was making
considerable progress, especially since the current was going
Harry looked right at me.
"Keep throwing the poop! Drive them over here!"
My hands were a windmill as I kept throwing, throwing, and
throwing. I didn't stop.
The gators backed off in a few minutes. They swam back into the
currents, where Harry challenged them on, wrestling them. He
grabbed hold of one of the gator's heads, and they both went
underwater, and they didn't come back underwater. Connor randomly
jumped into the water and swam after Harry. I turned to Hazel.
Now that I really got a sight of her, the scene was horrifying.
Blood was everywhere. There were scratch marks all over Hazel's
back, thank goodness she was wearing her regular clothes
underneath. I hoisted her up by her armpits. I couldn't help but
sniff. I retracted my head back in disgust. I didn't know girls
could smell bad, too. I decided to be a man and carry her anyway.
I saw Lance sitting down on the ground, clearly exhausted. I
didn't care, though. I was so tired.
"Um, hey, can you carry Hazel?"
"I'M SO TIRED. CAN'T WE FIND AN EXIT?!" Lance was staring at me,
a bit creepily.
In answer, I looked up at the ceiling. There's gotta be one of
those sewer thingies, right?
I could see one of those sewer things up above me. It was loose,
so it could be opened. BUT, there was one difficulty.
How are we supposed to get up there?
As if in answer, a ray of light shined down on the massive pile
of poop Connor had left. And in that moment, I could've sworn I
heard a silent choir of angels singing softly.
At first I was confused. Angel poop was dead useful in fighting
off alligators, and I admit it: It smelled good. But what use
would it be to get us out of here?
And that's when it hit me. I knew exactly what to do.
It took all day to do. Only two of us were doing it in fact.
God, this is a lot of work, why can't have Connor and Harry have
stayed to help us?
I bet you want to know what were doing now. Hehe.
Let me explain. You see, when that shed of light hit Connor's
gigantic - And I mean gigantic - poop pile, I knew what to do.
We had to move the poop pile, piece by piece, so we could all
reach the sewer thing. The reason only two of us were doing it
was because Hazel was still knocked out cold. Believe me, I am
NOT going into detail about this.
At last, we had rebuilt the poop pile.
And we were ready to escape the toilet.
This was it. The final countdown. I let Lance do the honors. He
climbed up the poop pile, and easily twisted the sewer thingy
open. Thank GOD it was loose! I dragged Hazel, and helped Ralph
climb the poop. I got up last, because Hazel kept wanting to
slide down the poop. If I had been in a different mood, the pile
of poop would've made a great slide at a playground.
But that's beside the point. When I finally got Hazel and I out
of the sewers, guess where we were?
A public bathroom. Great.
Lance and Ralph were having the same reaction.
"Jeez, a bathroom, you'd think we'd have enough of those?" Lance
Ralph was laying on the ground in the fetal position and crying.
I looked toward Hazel. Her breathing was slow, and she was
"Lance," I addressed him. "Look outside the bathroom and check
where we are. Ask someone for help, but only ask police officers
in fancy suits, and only ask people with children."
"On it," said Lance faithfully, but before he could get out the
door, Hazel stood up off the floor.
"Wa-ait," she said croakily as she stood up and blocked the door
with her arms. I looked at her straight in the eye. She had a
wild light in her eyes, and her fists were clenched like there
were was an enemy right in front of her.
"I know where we are," said Hazel, an amused tone creeping into
"Hazel, no you don't. You're insane. Delusional. Let me through
that door." Lance said bluntly.
"Stay....where....you....are," Hazel said through clenched teeth.
"I know where we are."
Lance seemed unimpressed. "Then where?"
"The girl's bathroom." Hazel deadpanned.
Ralph stood up. "OH, so that's why there aren't any urinals." He
sounded genuinely amazed.
"Well, duh." Lance retorted, ignoring Ralph. "But we don't know
exactly where we are."
"Ah! You didn't let me finish. We're not in a girl's bathroom,
we're in the girl's bathroom."
Lance's eyes widened. "You don't mean...."
Now I was confused. I piped up. "What? Am I missing something?"
Hazel walked toward me, giving me the death stare.
"Dear Waylon. THINK." She stared at me, hard.
And all of a sudden, I got it. I knew exactly where we were.
Hazel was right. We weren't in just any old girl's bathroom. We
were in the girls bathroom, at Oakville Middle School!
But there was no time to celebrate now. From the stall, all of
our ears sharpened, as we listening to some grunting sounds, a
lot of wet farts, and a huge ker-plunk into the toilet. The
person zipped up her pants and went out of the stall.
It was Casey. I knew her from 1st and 2nd period lst year
"Oh, did you guys just hear me?" She giggled. She was a little
insane like Ralph, but a different kind of insane. She barks at
telephone poles and pieces of poop turn her on.
"Yes," Hazel said awkwardly.
"Good." Casey said emotionlessley. Now she was starting to show a
little enthusiasm. She whispered loudly, "Hey! Between me and you
guys, I take even BIGGER dumps than that! Once, I even -"
"Psh, oh please," Ralph jested. "There are way bigger poops down
there." He pointed down to the sewers, where the pile of poop was
Casey didn't move. "Oh really?" She said after a long time.
Her gaze suddenly averted up, and now she was looking at all of
"Sayorana, bitches," she said awesomely. She jumped into the
For a while, no one said anything. But then Ralph said something.
"She'll have fun with the sewer gators."
No, He Can't Read my Poopie Face.
It's been 2 months. Hazel is still in the hospital and Ralph got
admitted to a mental hospital so the whole Ever Wonder What's
down the Toilet thing wouldn't traumatize him. Lance won't even
look at me in the eyes now. Casey hasn't shown up ever since she
dived into the sewers. The police are still looking for her, and
everyone is secretly glad that she is gone. The winter dance is
coming up, but I couldn't care less. Everyone else at school
thinks of me as a monster. They ignore me like I'm a bug on the
ground. It doesn't bother me, though. THEY didn't go down the
toilet and watch, like four other people die. There's some nasty
rumors going around too, but NONE of them are even CLOSE to the
real thing. I've heard before that truth is stranger than
fiction, so I'm just gonna go with that.
On the upside, though, I don't have to worry about me and my
parent's disputes about baths. I will NEVER go near a drain EVER
On the downside, though, I smell like crap.
Yeah, it's pretty bad.
Only on some days I'm allowed to visit Hazel and Ralph. It's
pretty hard to make time for both of them, since they were
admitted to different hospitals. Now both Hazel and Ralph were
both on the verge of death, since Ralph tried to commit suicide
with pills. I decided to check up on Ralph today, since his mind
is pretty fragile. My parents waited in the car, while I
registrated at the front desk. I've been to the mental hospital
often, too. So all they need from me is to say my name and my
parent's, and they'll give me my visitor's tag. It's almost kind
of scary how I've memorized Ralph's medical room. Floor 7, Room
4. The room's walls and floors were both completely white. with a
medical desk near the shelves where the TV is, and then there is
Ralph's bed, next to the window. He's been unconcious lately, so
I didn't expect him to be awake when I walked through the door.
He was sitting upright in his hospital bed thingy with some
complicated machines attached to him. His arms were strapped in
white mental hospital tape. He was focused on the TV on the
shelf, but it was off. I looked at him a little suspisiously as I
went to my seat next to him, by the window. His eyes were glazed.
The blinds were slightly shut, casting an eerie light on Ralph
while the rest of the room was dim.
"Ralph? Umm, you there?" I asked. I waved my hands in front of
his face. Nothing. Just a blank, glazed stare. You couldn't see
any emotion in his eyes. I was suddenly paranoid with worry that
he was dead. I turned the chair toward him and I decided to give
him a little playful push.
"Ralph! You alive?!" I said as pushed him. I immeadietly felt
guilty. This wasn't what a real medical doctor would do, right?
Did I just damage something vital? Did I accidentally pull out of
one of the cords? Is he gonna die because of me?
But it didn't hurt him. Ralph jerked out of his trance and the
intelligent light flooded back into his eyes. Except there was
something different. A sort of lonely, meloncholy emotion. Ralph
rocked back and forth in his hospital bed, saying nothing for a
long time. He started singing softly. I leaned in closer. "London
bridge is falling down, falling down, London bridge is falling
down, my fair lady...." Those words sent a chill up my spine. I
"You don't know." Ralph whispered suddenly.
I didn't know what? A sudden thought hit me. Has Ralph finally
gone off the brink into insanity? I didn't know what a real
psychologist would do, so I just played along.
"I don't know what, Ralph?" I tried my best to keep a calm
demeanor, but my voice trembled and cracked.
"You don't know...." Ralph whispered again, with a slight smile.
"What, Ralph?" I asked anxiously. Mentally, I was crossing my
fingers, hoping this "secret" he'd been hiding from me was
Now Ralph was full-on grinning now. Devilishly.
"You don't know that I was responsible." His voice had a new tone
of confidence in it
I was still confused. " Don't play these games with me Ralph.
Responsible for what?"
Ralph turned his head around and stared at me. "Dear Waylon.
THINK." Quoting Hazel exactly. Ralph went back to singing.
I was never really good at riddles like these. I just sat there,
mentally crossing my fingers and hoping his secret was a totally
pointless one, and not what I thought it was.
Ralph sighed in exasperasion. "Let me explain. I am a murderer. I
held Sean's head underwater. I threw that piece of poop at Harry.
I gave Connor that one little push that ended his life. I held
Hazel at gunpoint and forced those words out of her. And at the
wedding, I knew there was a pack of gators around the corner, and
I led her right to it. Shame they didn't kill her." Ralph
finished with no emotion.
Well, I guess I was right. This WASN'T what I thought it was. It
was actually much, much worse. Never in a month of Wednesdays....
Ralph began laughing like a maniac. Awkardly, I left the room. In
a daze, I decided to head to the regular hospital, to visit
Hazel. I had used up all of my time with Ralph, so there was only
a one - hour window left with Hazel. I forced my parents to speed
over to the hospital. I checked in by myself, and I hurried to
the elevator and pressed the 15 button. Justin Bieber music was
playing in the elevator, so I threw up. When the doors opened, I
used my wet shoes as an advantage and I slid across the hall to
Room 47. Lance was already leaning over the hospital bed. What? I
thought. Lance never visits. Something must be up. Everything
slowed down when I sped over beside Lance, and I caught my
"Oh, hey Waylon." Lance mumbled. It's the first time I've heard
him talk to me since the toilet incident.
I didn't bother with greetings. "Lance! Ralph's a -"
"Psychopath? Yeah, Hazel just told me. She's going to die."
"Say WHAAAAAAT?!" I said in disbelief. Wait a minute - Hazel was
going to DIE? And I thought I'd seen it all.
"Yep," croaked Hazel. She hadn't talked when she was in the
hospital - she'd been in a short coma.
"Well this is just great," I said in exasperation. Then I came up
with an idea.
"Lance? Remember when we were in the sewers and Hazel and I were
getting married? You were the preacher!"
"Yeeaah, soooo?" Lance said.
"Lance you idiot! You could say the final preacher stuff. 'You
may now kiss the bride.' Say that! Say that!" I said impatiently.
I didn't want Hazel to die before we got married, and I
definitely didn't want to kiss a dead body.
"Um, okey dokey," Lance said very unprofessionally. I rolled my
eyes. "You may now kiss the bride."
I leaned down to give Hazel a sexy, slimy, sweaty, slobbery,
awesome, gooey, hot, sticky, smelly, yummy, inapropriate kiss. We
kissed for a good twenty minutes. And believe me, those twenty
minutes were good.
"Well, I didn't expect it to go down that way, but okay," Lance
said. "You two are now offically married."
"Wait!" craked Hazel. She sat up, reached into her pillowcase,
and pulled out - guess what? a beautiful diamond engraved
necklace. She reached for me and placed it gracefully around my
"Whoa," Lance marveled, his face and his voice filled with
wonderment. "Do you know how much of a chance that you got
Grandma Pea-brain's necklace? Grandma Peabrain's necklace!"
I was amazed beyond words. "Th-Thanks, Hazel."
Suddenly Lance squealed like a baby monkey. "Oh my God!" He said
quietly. "Look at the engraving!" I looked down at the necklace.
Guess what? Another surpise. It read: Ever Wonder What's Down the
"Whoa, you got this engraved?" I said in amazement. "How much did
it cost you?"
"My college fund," Hazel replies. She smiles at the shocked look
on all our faces.
"It's Grandma Pea-Brain all over again," Lance observed briskly.
"Except it's a love story."
"Waylon," Hazel addressed me. "I don't want to go through with
this pain. Pull out the life support."
I obeyed her dying wish. Slowly, I kneeled down on the wall to
the outlet. Then I pulled out the outlet that ended her life. The
sirens immeadietly went off. Nurses came bursting in moments
after. They all stared at me.
"Umm, I - I tripped," I stuttered. The nurses didn't look like
they believed me.
Tonight was the night of the dance. I didn't want to go, but of
course my parents forced me to. Ralph had died a few days ago,
too. I was still mourning over him. He was a pretty cool guy
except for his psycho insanity part. I thought about wearing my
old Halloween costume to scare the crap out of other people, but
it didn't fit, so I just put on a casual sweater and jeans. I
wanted to walk there, but my parents wanted to give me a ride
cause it would be quicker. It sort of stinks because even though
I survived in a stinky sewer for a few weeks, I still have to
rely on my parents for some things. Oh well. At 7:30 sharp, we
hopped in the car and drove off. I fought back tears, because I
missed Hazel, and Connor and everyone else. To be honest with
myself, I thought it was pretty pathetic that I was 12 and I was
already a widower. The only thing I could be excited for is that
Lance called me this morning. He said he had a "surpise" for me
at the dance. But I weighed the chances, and about nine times out
of ten, it was something stupid. And besides, nothing ever
surpises me anymore. Once we got to the school entrance, I
stepped out of the car and waved my parents goodbye. Once they'd
driven off, I wiped away my tears, I put on my awesome strong
face and pulled out some dark sunglasses, even though it was
night and I would look like a total idiot inside the auditorium.
Whatever, though. Lance told me there was going to be a lot of
people, so he wanted me to stand out so he could find me and
share his stupid surpise. But Lance was right about the people
part. It was almost like a real Hollywood-type party if you
didn't see stern-faced adults everywhere, chewing out the
troublemakers and the fat disgusting ugly mean teachers dancing
I decided I wanted to have at least some fun at this party. I
tried looking for Lance for a few minutes, but to no avail. I
settled down with this weird girl who seemed nice. She had
different opinions about almost everything, and she laughs at the
dumbest jokes. I really couldn't see her face because I was
wearing sunglasses, and her face was covered up by some stupid
burglar ski mask. (She thought it was a costume party.)
A few minutes later Lance game. He came right over to me and
plucked the sunglasses right off my face. Everything was bright
for a second. I covered my face with the V-neck of my sweater,
and then everything was okay again.
"Hey there little girl! Nice party, right?" Lance said
enthusiastically over the loud music, gesturing his arms all over
"I guess," I replied awkwardly. "I'm not in the mood for
greetings right now. What's this secret thingy you were talking
Lance shrugged. "Looks like she found you first." He gestured
once again tward the burglar monster girl, who was giggling.
She took her mask off and there she was, her face covered in
dried poop - Casey!
"What?" I screamed in disbelief. "I thought the alligators had
teared her up!"
"Oh no, they did," said Lance. "Show em' your stitches." He said
She lifted up her sweatshirt to reveal some stitches shaped
together like a penis.
"Isn't it great?" Exclaimed Casey, letting her shirt fall down.
"That'll be there forever. Hey Waylon, do you think, when we have
kids, my skin cells will somehow get into one of our babies, and
the baby will have a penis on it's back! Wouldn't that be great?"