Growing Up A Superhero (9)
One Of Those Days 1/1
JBMcDragon

Well, have you ever had One Of Those Days? It started with an insightful statement, "That looks like it hurts," and continued with my oh-so witty rejoinder, "Ya think?"

From there it went on, a few hours later, to getting caught with a fag behind the principal's office. It continued inside the principal's office.

I swear, the fag was just to dull the pain. Honest. Cigarette smoke does dull pain.

After a long lecture I got to go home, where I was practically attacked by my mum and taken to the hospital.

After my arm had been set--I told you the fag was for the pain--we went home. Dad got a call from the principal, meantime, and was waiting for me to get back so he could lay in on me.

After getting grounded for the rest of my life, or until my parents died, whichever came first, I was sent to my room and left there.

Of course, being sixteen and opinionated, I didn't actually stay there.

Which, in turn, led to my current predicament.

Five boys, one girl, many big sticks and me. One guess which side I was on. Nope, not the girl's. One guess which side was beating the stuffing out of the other. Nope. The girl's. Believe it or not--and you probably won't--the chit attacked us.

I told you you wouldn't believe me.

We were playing . . . well, nevermind what we were playing, we made it up, when from out of nowhere this little twerp comes flying at me. I swear it. Flying.

I reacted with great calm and level-headedness.

I hit her as hard as I could. With my stick.

The good news is, the grass was thick and it couldn't have hurt very much when she landed. Her breath oophed out of her in a white cloud--it was cold outside--and she grabbed my ankle.

Then she bit me. She bit me! I did the only reasonable thing I could do. I stood there saying "She bit me! She bit me!"

Well, in any case, it seemed reasonable at the time.

Then my mates attacked, pulled her off me. Well, some of them attacked. The others were too busy laughing.

Yes, just like that.

So she reached into my pocket--she did!--and grabbed my wallet, then jumped up and started to run off. Well, us six boys couldn't let her get away with my wallet, so we chased her.

Yes, I'm getting there.

She ran into the city and down the street--it was deserted--and we kept chasing her, though my arm was throbbing. I broke it, remember? She turned a corner and raced down another street, and ran right into a man pushing a cart of fish.

No, I'm serious. He was. There were lots and lots of fish. You can still smell them on me.

Oh, you can't? Well, I used to smell like fish.

Anyway, these fish fell all over and I saw the chit grab one and shove my wallet down its throat. Being the level headed bloke I am, I grabbed the fish and tried to shake my wallet out. While I was doing this, the girl ran off. And she was laughing, the little floozy!

Anyway, my wallet wouldn't come out, so I grabbed the fish and took off in search of a really big knife. Figured I could cut it out, you know. Anyway, me and my mates headed down the street--it needs to be re-paved, and the whole thing is really dark--and finally found a knife just laying there. Only it wasn't a knife, it was a cleaver. None of us cared, though, so we grabbed it and started to slice the fish open.

What did you say the fish was called? Oh, swordfish. Right. Well, my one friend--Eddy--got really sick at the sight of the blood and all, so we stopped cutting and tried to find a place with water. While walking down the street some man came up to us, and when we explained to him what was going on he said that we could use his stash of water. So he brought us to a house where there were bottles and bottles of what we thought was water. We took four bottles and left the rest for him. We left the area because we didn't want to get fish blood all over that nice bloke's apartment and went away, into an alley. So anyway, when we finally stopped and got ready to cut the fish open we realized that it wasn't water, it was vodka!

You can imagine how shocked we were, being good, God-fearing men and all.

But we also figured better for us to use it then for someone to get drunk on it, so we started splashing it all over the fish and keeping the blood at bay while we cut the swordfish open and got my wallet out.

By the way, we found my wallet.

While we were cutting some of the drink managed to get on me and my mates, but we didn't drink it.

Anyway, we didn't want to leave the fish there because we didn't want it to rot, and we didn't want to leave the bottles there because they were glass, and we were afraid that some small child would come along and trip, and the same went for the cleaver, only without the glass part.

Children occasionally walk around in the middle of the night. Just not very often.

So we picked up the fish and the bottles and the cleaver and started walking away. We finally made it to a main street, where this bloke had locked himself out of his car. Being the helpful lads we are, we helped him get back into his car. He explained to us that it looked like a cop car because he had painted it that way for fun, and then he offered to give us all rides home and dispose of the fish and bottles and cleaver for us. So we put those things in the trunk, got in the car, and started driving away.

Well, after a while he realized that he had to go, so he let us borrow the car and he got out at his house, and we started driving the car home.

At some point one of my friends pushed me and I stomped on the gas on accident, and I got pulled over for speeding.

And that, your honor, is how I came to have four bottles of vodka, two halves of a swordfish and a cleaver in the back of a stolen police car which I was speeding in."

The room was silent for a long time.

"Young man," the judge said, leaning over to look at the black haired youth before him. "Do you really expect me to believe that story?"

Pete Wisdom looked up at him with big blue eyes. "Yes, sir. It's the truth."

"And you had no idea that the car was stolen?"

"I would never knowingly drive a stolen car, sir," Pete answered solemnly.

"And you truly expect me to believe what you've just told me?"

"Yes sir. As I said before, it's the truth."

The judge sighed. One thing was true. This boy thought on his feet faster than anyone else he had ever met. "Peter Wisdom, I hereby fine you for stealing a police car, stealing two sides of a swordfish, underage drinking, driving under the influence, having a stolen cleaver in your car and speeding. Dismissed."

Pete sighed and left the room. At least they hadn't asked about the duct tape. Even he would have had a hard time explaining that one.

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