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Offline Evolution

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***Shadows of Bullworth***
« on: July 14, 2013, 11:18:28 AM »

Please Read This Topic Before Continuing. Rules/Guidlines/Updates Are All Located There.

There will be no posting in this topic besides from the two people doing the story, which are, Mohammed, and c00ld0c26.

Special Thanks to Evolution the former head writer of the story, and the late Chuck for major editing and fixing of posts, may you rest in peace.

Chapter 1
Welcome Home!

« Last Edit: November 08, 2018, 02:36:25 AM by c00ld0c26 »

Offline c00ld0c26

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Re: Shadows of Bullworth
« Reply #1 on: July 14, 2013, 11:30:34 AM »
John stepped out of his mother’s car and into the bright sunlight. He gave his mother a hate-filled glare before entering the hellish gates of Bullworth Academy.  What a shithole, John thought to himself miserably. Before being able to pop out a smoke with a lighter he previously smuggled in from his mother’s bag, he was interrupted by a woman in a black dress, effectively popping the lighter and smoke into his back pockets out of instinct. “You must be John. Welcome to Bullworth Academy.” She seemed to be rather enthusiastic about this dump. “Doctor Crabblesnitch’s office is in the building up ahead, he is expecting you. Don’t take your time either; he’s expecting you within five or so minutes. Goodbye now.” And thus, she wandered off into the midst, not even bothering to show him the way. The brown haired boy sighed in a mixture of stress and anger as he walked into the gates, giving off a creak as it opened for him.

John looked at his surroundings, immediately noticing that he was getting many sinister looks, which very much unnerved him quite a lot; he noticed that it was mostly from a bunch of kids in White Polo Shirts. What was their problem?  It was a sunny day and the students, new and old, some of the newbies who arrived before him, were out and about, talking, and some mingling. But he noticed the ones ‘Mingling,’ and ‘Talking,’ all wore nearly identical uniforms to each other. They must take the whole ‘High-School clique’ thing seriously. He also noticed a few trying to avoid the others at all costs, as to evade being bullied. What he didn’t notice, however, was the fact that he just bumped into a strong-like figure in a Letterman Jacket. The Jock was Casey, and he didn’t take too likely to being bumped into.

“Watch yourself, new fish.” The Jock said with an angry frown. “You ever touch me again, and I’ll whip your ass so bad you’ll wish that you never born.” His voice was dangerous.

John looked to his right and sighed in relief. There was a prefect, an authority figure.  If the Jock decided to kick his ass out in the open, he’d be sent straight to the Principal.  It’s not like John was afraid to fight him, but it’s just that he rode all this way and was a tired wreck. He didn’t have the patience to fight right now. But soon enough, he’d take no one’s bullshit. Today was just a special occasion.

“Oh, well I’m sooo sorry.” John said in a sarcastic manner. “Hopefully I never do such a heinous act again”, he said as he mocked him. "Did I get a speck of dirt on your jacket, huh?”  When saying ‘speck’ he softly pushed the Jock with his finger.

Casey bit on his bottom lip hard to prevent his anger from bursting out, he was very aware of the prefect nearby.  “You know,” The Jock chuckled. “I don’t even need to bother. You see those guys in the white shirts over there by the dorm?” He jerked his thumb to the Bullies direction. “Those faggots will eat you alive. And hey, even though there is a prefect, they don’t really give a shit, anyways. I’ll catch ya some other time, new kid.” The Jock winked with a grin and once again laughed as his anger flew away from his body as he walked off.

“Fucking dick.” John sighed under his breath. Trudging along, John gazed his dark brown eyes over his surroundings, taking in the dorms on either side of the courtyard then focusing his eyes on the main building which was the school itself. Some students eyeballed him as they watched him slowly walk past.

The man in his chair spun around and faced the new student, clapping his hands together and resting against the table in front of his chair. “Hmmm, welcome. Your name is… John, yes?”

“That’s me, alright!” John gushed with fake enthusiasm.

“Great,” The so called ‘doctor’ exclaimed, “Please, please, sit down.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. "I'm just, getting out some files here..."

John let out a sigh as he sat on the chair, crossing his legs and waiting for what the Principal was going to say.

The Principal muttered to himself, adjusting his glasses as he slumped out a big file on the desk.“Hmmm,” Crabblesnitch’s eyes scanned the words on the folder and he sighed. “I see you have a rather unique school record, here.”

“Erm, yeah." John replied awkwardly.

“John…. Evans." Dr. Crabblesnitch's low voice in a murmur as he ran his finger over the words written on his file. John looked at him in a bored manner; he immediately thought he was a pompous bastard. And rightfully so.

“It seems you have a rather filled-in school record from past schools.  Vandalism, disrespecting staff and fellow pupils, bad language, fighting."  The Headmaster snorted as he said sarcastically, "I can go on with more offenses if you want me to."

“Well, I'd prefer that you don't,” John smiled. "As there is more than meets the eye."

“Is that so?” Dr. Crabblesnitch replied in a dull tone. He wasn’t impressed. “You have multiple counts of fighting and vandalism on these school records. How do you explain yourself?”

“Listen, I’m not denying what I did,” John admitted, “But if you got my side of the story--–“

“Enough!” The man interrupted, “I will not hear any more of this nonsense! And I will make sure that you, as well as all the other pupils, here obey the rules of this school.”

John tuned his eyes onto the floor, trying to purposely block out 'The Headmaster's' patronizing voice that was booming over him.

"You will follow the standards set at this school. I assure you." Gazing at John, he didn’t break off eye contact. “Your suitcase is in your room, you have the rest of the day to make yourself at home, but I expect you to be attending your afternoon classes."

Dr. Crabblesnitch handed him a piece of paper which contained a room number of his dorm, school schedule, and multiple other details. John nodded and got off his chair, making a beeline for the exit.

"Oh and one more thing", Dr. Crabblesnitch's arrogant voice echoed throughout the small office. "Keep a clean nose. Or we’ll clean it for you."

John half nodded, "Yeah." he mumbled, before walking out of the room with relief.

Life at Bullworth was going to be fan-fuckin-tastic.
« Last Edit: July 27, 2015, 05:39:49 PM by c00ld0c26 »

Offline Evolution

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Re: Shadows of Bullworth
« Reply #2 on: July 14, 2013, 12:01:03 PM »
“Rod, why the fuck are you taking me here?” The boy questioned earnestly,  in the backseat of his Father’s car.

“This is for your education, Phillip", his Father replied, rather mechanically. "So you can make the best of your life when you reach adulthood.”
Phillip chuckled, but his tone was angry. “Ahhh, Don’t bullshit me. We both know that it’s so you can dump me off and get me out of you and your wife’s hair!”

“That’s not true…..” his Father said, his face getting redder by the second.

“YES IT IS! What about my sister, huh?” Phillip asked, his tone getting more serious than his previous sarcastic tone. “What’re going to say when she asks where I am? I love that kid!”

The car stopped abruptly and smoke erupted from the tires. “YOU KNOW WHAT? You’re right! You’re fucking right!", his Father yelled. "We don’t need you in our lives anymore. We don’t WANT you in our lives anymore! JUST FUCK OFF, OUT OF OUR LIVES! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!!  Liza Doesn’t Need You Anyway!!”  Immediately after screaming at his son, he instantly felt regret.
Phillip clenched his fists, but now wasn’t the right time, no matter how tempted he may have been. The blonde haired boy grabbed his backpack from the seat next to him and lugged it onto his back.

"Wait, son....I didn't mean it. I'm --", his Father began.

“See you, FATHER.”  Those were the last words Phillip spat out to his own father before walking up to the gate and turning his back.  Phillip's dad wanted to get out and talk to him, but he knew it'd be useless. So, he started up the car and drove off. 

Wow, Phillip never thought he’d end up going to such a hell hole of a school, but Hey, look where he was now!  As he walked into the already open gates, he noticed a figure walking towards him; it was a man in a blue uniform.  It must be one of those prefects he had heard about, or something. The man in blue was holding a piece of paper and looked down at it, before eying Phillip.

"Ahh. You must be Phillip Matthews." The Prefect said, pushing his glasses back. "Yes, Doctor Crabblesnitch is waiting for you in his office. This way please." He said impatiently, leading the way into the school grounds.

Phillip, keeping up with the prefect, quietly chuckled to himself, “Yeah, this place will make a real politician out of me, alright!”  As he trudged on, he once again guffawed to himself, “A real gentleman!”  Before being able to laugh some more, he noticed a fight between a kid in a dark teal sweater and another in a White Polo Shirt, the prefect seemed to be too ‘busy,’ leading him on to do anything about it.


The prefect knocked on the door that lead to the Principal’s office, a firm, “Come in.” was heard in reply. The prefect nodded to Phillip, gesturing him to go in. The Prefect, Edward, shut the door with a loud snap as the blonde haired boy entered the room.
"Ah, Phillip Matthews. Please, sit down." He said with a false smile, gesturing to the wooden chair in front of his desk.

"Yeah, thanks." replied Phillip quietly. He took a seat and gawked at the objects on Dr. Crabblesnitch's desk as he sat down and pulled out his file.

"Erm, now....” Dr. Crabblesnitch said, observing the files laid out in front of him, “When your father, Rodney, spoke to me a few months ago, before, sending you to this wonderful institution...” Here the Principal waved his hands in the air to emphasize the ‘Wonderful,’ bit. How Funny, Phillip thought, before scoffing as Crabblesnitch referred to Rodney as his 'father.'  “He had told me he wanted to send you here to set you some standards," continued Dr. Crabblesnitch  His tone, while saying ‘standards,’ almost sounded like he was warning Phillip.  "And, of course, the wonderful education you will be receiving here....Although, I understand why he sent you here. Your ‘career’ in violence is engaging, isn’t that right?”

“So what if it is?” Phillip asked with a pompous tone. He wasn't going to let this know-it-all-prick bully him around.

“Well, it is my destiny to fix broken down people like yourself. Make you respected citizens of our community.” A smug smile stretched out on the man’s face. It took a lot of self-control to not launch over the table and start ripping his eyes out.
“Well, sir,” Phillip spat at him like venom, “I don’t need to be fixed, as you put it.”

“Now, you didn’t answer my question,” The Principal reminded Phillip, “Your career in violence is quite endearing, no?”

“Well, yeah,” replied Phillip with a faded grin, feeling his anger leave his body temporarily. "But, com'on, it was all justified."

“Excuse me?” The Principal gasped as he took off his glasses and eyeballed the arrogant student.

“Well, I mean, it was all justified. Most of them had it coming, know what I mean? Most of it was none of my fault", Phillip protested.  Dr. Crabblesnitch glared at him.
“Listen to me boy,” The Principal said firmly, but not raising his voice. “No such acts will be tolerated here, and when they are, which is very rare in the first place, full punishments are used against the offenders to ensure no such things will happen again. You will behave, boy!"

"I understand, sir." Phillip lied. "And I will follow these rules no matter what." Phillip's mouth twitched and he could barely keep in his laughter.
"Good, m'boy." Dr. Crabblesnitch smiled grimly.  “Since that’s out of the way, you will find your uniform and your schedule in your dorm at Room Number 14.  I assume you must already know where the dormitory is located. I’ve set you up there with two other pupils. Lessons start tomorrow at 9 at and will finish at 3:30. I'll expect to see your full attendance ay the classes. Do you understand?"

“Yes sir.” Replied Phillip blandly. On the inside, Phillip was thinking, ‘As if he actually cares if I go to class or not.
“Good,” Dr. Crabblesnitch said dismissively. “Now, leave my presence.”

“Gladly.” Phillip said, but laughed to himself. It was all so rip-roaringly funny.

« Last Edit: July 20, 2013, 05:40:04 AM by Evolution »

Offline Evolution

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Re: Shadows of Bullworth
« Reply #3 on: July 20, 2013, 07:14:33 AM »
After unpacking all of his belongings and equipment from his bag, plus getting changed into his school uniform, Phillip warily stood in front of his mirror; gazing deep into his blue eyes as certain memories, ones that he’d prefer to forget, came rushing back to him. He was briefly lost in his own cloud of deep thoughts.

Phillip was raised by a man named Max in the comfort of a fairly nice home, not amazing, but enough to get by and raise a child. To his father, the boy was nothing but the greatest gift a man could ever ask for. Max loved his son, and was proud of the smallest of his achievements. Phillip even read books at a young age, not actually understanding them, but just simply copying the behavior of his father. His father loved reading books, often going to the library and reading all of the books he could possibly read within the time-period of the day. Max loved the boy more than anything, and was determined to give him a good life; despite the obstacles they faced living life in the condition that they did.

Max taught everything he could to his beloved son, wishing him to grow up to be successful, maybe go to Harvard or any university he could go to, so that he could financially and mentally support himself.  He hoped his son could reach his full potential as Max failed to do so himself, never reaching his full potential. As he grew, Phillip learned math, chemistry and a wide variety of subjects from his father, more than he learned in school as a young child, which gave him more of an edge over his peers.

Max’s traits reflected brightly into his son: honesty, dignity, honor and a bit of  dry, sarcastic wit. That all changed when something tragic happened to him and changed him forever.
Shortly after the tragedy, Phillip started changing honesty to an occasional act, his dignity into selfishness, his honor into self-absorbed plans and thoughts to further move himself up the food-chain.  But his sarcastic wit always stayed beside him, perhaps the only living legacy of his previous self.  Which, of course, wasn't a good thing. Phillip’s view on life, and humanity overall, significantly changed after everything that had happened, and he now hated the man that he had to call his ‘father.’ 

Phillip quickly snapped out of his own trance, and chuckled to himself as he reflected back onto his earlier years, thinking 'I’m a living example of a cynic.'  Phillip looked down at the school time-table and put it in his table drawer, ready to get it out for tomorrow when classes began.


After swooping past some of the boys in the dorm, receiving dirty looks, he got outside and made his way around the school, exploring and making himself aware of his surroundings. He went into a Parking Lot area, there was a fucking School Bus with the windows shattered. ‘Why in the blue hell is that there?’, Phillip thought to himself quite dryly. His eyes, still stitched onto the bus, quickly shifted to the area in front of him. A crooked sign, which seemed to be hanging on by a thread, read, ‘The Auto Shop.’  Phillip laughed to himself and said out loud “An Auto Shop ? Let’s see what’s in here, shall we?”  As he was soon to learn, the boy had entered the Greaser’s turf, and was unknowingly violating the Greaser’s unwritten rules by simply walking into dangerous territory.  As he kept strolling deeper into Greaser Turf, he bumped into a boy, about his age, in a leather-jacket.

“What the fuck are you doin' in our turf, eh boyo?” The angry voice blasted at him.

“Your turf?” Phillip scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘your turf’ ?”

"Damn right, our turf." The Greaser, who was named Lucky, countered.

Phillip shrugged. "I'll just leave if you want me to, then. Sorry." His voice was in an apologetic manner, he was trying to defuse the bomb that was bound to go off as soon as he possibly could. But he was just about to find out he had bitten off more than he could chew.
The Greaser snickered as he smashed his fist into the palm of his hand, "I'm gonna enjoy dis, pal." Lucky got into a fighting stance and started slowly advancing to him, like a predator measuring up its prey before attacking. Phillip slowly walked backwards, ready to haul ass before seeing that the Greaser in the light blue jacket was interrupted by another one of his peers, presumably the Leader, quickly running towards Lucky seconds before he was about to pounce on Phillip.
“Ey, Ey… Relax, Lucky. Lemme handle this, eh?” he said as he patted Lucky on the shoulder and nodded to him, giving him an ‘It’s okay' look.  Lucky nodded back and reluctantly walked off. Phillip eyed him before giving his attention to the Greaser in front of him. 'These clowns even talk like they're in the 50's' Phillip thought with a sneer on his face.

“Name and age.” The nasally voice of the presumed leader commanded.

Phillip vaguely smiled at the command and obliged. He wasn’t looking for 10 people to fight at once, no need to be brave and get himself killed. He was on enemy territory, he wasn't looking for a fight. “Phillip Matthews. 16.”

“You a religious man, Matthews?”, the Greaser continued.

“Never really thought about it.” Phillip replied, a smile still plastered on his face.

“Good", the Greaser replied in a dull manner, “Cos' the 10 commandments don’t mean a box of piss in 'ere. We got two commandments only,”  Here the Greaser raised two fingers in the air. “The first commandment is, you got nothin comin’.”
Phillip rose up his eyebrows with a grin, “And, what’s the second commandment?”

“See commandment number one.”, the Greaser said with a note of finality.
Phillip clacked his lips and widened his smile, “Gotcha.”
“You talkin out the side of your neck?”  The nasally voice was now in a threatening tone, the clique leader walking closer to Phillip and glaring at him.

“Come again?” Phillip’s brows furrowing.
“I said...Are you bein, a smartass?” The Greaser took long and slow pauses with each sentence with a low dangerous voice to intimidate the new kid. Phillip could sense that he was about to initiate a fight. Phillip, being very aware of this, quickly backed out with his smooth talking to prevent such a thing from happening.
“Just trying to fly low, avoid the radar, boss. Do my time, and get out.” Phillip laughed on the inside due to the fact that he felt as if he was in a prison. Hell, felt a lot like it already. What made him smile was him sucking up to the Greaser, which just showed that honor or dignity didn't apply to him in these types of situations. Why wasn't he being brave like he would have been three years before? Because it would get him nowhere. "Didn't even know this area was anyone's turf. Won't happen again." Phillip continued.
A slight smile emerged on the Greaser’s face, “There is no flyin’ under my radar.”

“Good to know", Phillip said agreeably.

The Greaser, known as ‘Peanut,’ lurched his head to the exit of his turf, gesturing for him to get the fuck out before something bad was to happen.  Phillip did so and went out the same way he came in, with a hateful look originating from Peanut as he walked away.
« Last Edit: August 03, 2013, 09:29:48 AM by Evolution »

Offline Mohamed The Kowalski

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Re: Shadows of Bullworth
« Reply #4 on: August 19, 2013, 04:34:01 AM »
The Bullworth fountain that was located south of the main school building was a great symbol for Bullworth Academy.  The statue of the mascot represented the Jocks in all their glory. The Gym and Football Field were located to the south of it, the Auto-shop to the west, the Harrington House to the east, the Library to the northeast, and the parking lot to the northwest; thus making the school cliques very close to each-other at all times, pretty much the equivalent of stuffing a cat and a dog into a cage together and expecting them to get along.

At 3:30, the bell rang indicating that school day was over with, the fountain courtyard began flooding with different students, with a slightly short, overweight boy wearing an astronomy club vest and circular shaped glasses awkwardly emerging out of the crowd and seemingly heading towards the gym when another boy, a Jock in a Letterman Jacket, bumped into him.

“Where you goin’, nerd? This is Jock territory,” The Jock stated with an angry glare.

The nerd answered bravely, “To the observatory. I want to see some stars in the telescope tonight. So, if you don’t mind, please get out of my way.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you the stars in the middle of the day, punk!” Spat out the Jock firmly, smashing his fist into the nerd’s face, breaking his glasses as he slumped to the ground. ”OH, YOU….” cried the nerd, before being able to utter out another word, the Nerd felt a strong hand wrap around his throat, lifting him up onto his feet.

“You’ll learn to keep off our turf!” Before being able to throw another punch at the defenseless nerd, he was interrupted by a voice blaring from behind him. He hissed at the interruption and roughly threw the Nerd down to the ground as he turned around to confront the voice.

“Dylan!” Yelled out Dan, “Leave him for now; we’ll kick his ass later. Now, hurry the fuck up and let’s get to football practice. You know how the coach gets mad when we arrive late.”

Dylan glared down at the Nerd below his feet, “Lucky I’ve got other things to do.”, and with that, the Jock turned around and walked back onto his own territory, chuckling quietly. He seemed to be quite pleased with himself.

The nerd, whose name was George, lay on the ground, moaning from the pain until another nerd came and helped him to get on his feet, “George, are you OK? Do you need to go to the nurse?”

“No, no. I’m fine, Francis.” George managed to mutter out, barely staying awake from fainting.

Fatty, called by his full name, ‘Francis’, by his fellow peers, found that George’s glasses were broken. He helped George to walk to the library where he could clean the blood off George’s face.

“What were you doing in jock territory?” asked Fatty, getting a cloth out from his back pocket and crudely wiping smudges of blood off George’s face.

“I wanted to go to the observatory.” replied George, sounding like a five year old kid who was preparing to get yelled at by his parents.

“Aaaaand, why didn’t you go to the observatory from the gate here?” asked Fatty bluntly.

“Yeah, um, just take me to the observatory. Hey, I’m not tired anymore.  I can walk by myself. Wanna' come with me?” George smiled, dodging the question.

“Sure.” Fatty replied.

By climbing a small wall at the south side of the library, Fatty and George could see a gate. The two entered the code and walked through the gate, marching along the path that led to the observatory. Bucky was near the gate, spud-gun in hand and chatting with Cornelius.  He opened up the gate leading to the actual observatory, with Fatty and George walking in.”Hey, where’s Melvin?” asked Fatty. “Upstairs, in his room.” returned Bucky.


Dan, Dylan and a new Jock, Cory, were walking to the football field, “Hey, what the hell were you thinking, Dylan? You were gonna kill him.” shouted Cory,

“He deserves it. It’s not the first time I smashed that little twerp to the ground, he’s the one that provokes me. I mean, no one defies a Jock. We’re the strongest clique.” Dylan replied, smiling.

“Yeah man, you sound like a Nerd-Lover!” Dan added.

“Yeah, but you get too amped up. Hell, you jumped on him like a gorilla.” Cory said defensively, ignoring Dan’s remark.

Dylan quietly replied, “Well, in a place like this you need to be strong…” His voice had a twinge of guilt, “And if it means jumping on someone like a gorilla to prove yourself, so be it.”

Damon was in the distance and he chuckled to himself, remembering that it was his long life dream to fight a gorilla when he could get the chance. Damon was a hopeless case of a student. He was rumored to be mentally unwell, and his violent tactics often proved this evidence. However, he was very muscular which made him suitable to lead the Jock clique after Ted's departure especially because he was Ted's right hand man.

Cory and Dylan were two completely different jocks, or it seemed that way. Most likely due to the vast difference in the two’s lives as children. Although they were two very different personalities, they would often get along finely.

Cory had a very sweet childhood, his parents always loved him and he was always grateful for that. Despite this, when he joined Bullworth, he (regretfully), joined the Jocks. Cory knew that if he were to fully stand up for a nerd, or anyone that the Jocks oppose for that matter, he’d be kicked out and his future dream career as an NFL footballer would be ruined. In fact, football was his only option for his life. He often got horrible marks in all subjects excluding sports, so football was his only option. Football was HIM, and it was HIS life. He wouldn’t dump that away for anything, even his honor and pride. Unfortunately for Dylan on the other-hand, he lived with an alcoholic mother. His father died in a car crash when he was young, scaring him for life and giving him disregard for others. His mother, who was depressed from the event, started neglecting Dylan and  wanted to get rid of him, so she sent him to Bullworth. Dylan had a philosophy, and that philosophy stated, 'If no one cares about me, why the fuck should I care about them?'

The childhoods of the two boys affected them greatly, as Dylan was always sad and grumpy and always liked to bully weak kids for no reason other than to appear strong, while Cory didn’t bully anyone because he was kind-hearted. In fact, he always felt sorry for the nerds. He only pretended to bully them when other Jocks were around, but when he was alone, he actually left them without any sort of bullying. Although he was kind at heart, Cory was an amazing football player, which made him respected by the entire Jock clique and gave him a type of ‘reputation’, one which he’d have to uphold no matter what.


Fatty and George went upstairs of the observatory to find Melvin sitting in a closed room. It was an extra room which he had turned into his own bedroom when he became the leader of the nerd clique after Earnest’s departure.

He was sitting on his bed, reading a comic book, until Fatty and George entered. “Good afternoon, Brave Knights.” Melvin smiled, before noticing George. “Hey, what’s wrong with your face, George?”

George fidgeted with his fingers nervously and then answered. “I was, err, heading to the observatory and a Jock got in my way.”

Fatty quickly intervened, like a five year old telling on his mischievous brother. “He forgot to mention that he went straight into enemy territory while doing so.” George gave him a glare.

“This isn’t the first time…” Melvin sighed, dropping his comic book and eyeballing him. “George, why didn’t you come from behind the library?” he asked rhetorically with his voice getting louder. “Don’t tell me you did that to send a message to the Jocks that we aren’t afraid of them. Please?” A silence occurred in the room, and Melvin began to get angry. George didn’t answer.

“You got smashed into a pulp. HAPPY NOW?” Melvin exploded, before trying to calm down again. Melvin sighed once more as he then talked very patiently “George. Listen to me. You think you’re brave by doing this, but in reality, you’re reckless. Your snobbery AND your naivety is what really annoys me. You’re worse than those preps.”

George started to become angry himself. “Then what do you want me to do, Melvin? My dear knight,” He boomed sarcastically, “We’re the most humiliated clique in this school. Why don’t you give me a slingshot, you know that I’m good at sniping; I’ll use one of 'em to take revenge on those Neanderthals, and thus, regain our dignity within this school. We are the most knowledgeable people in this school. We should RULE this school.”

“We WILL rule the school, but when the right time comes, and I think we both know what would happen if I were to give you a slingshot."

“Whatever. Do what you want, Melvin.” George angrily blasted at him, storming out of the room.

Melvin turned to Fatty, ignoring George’s immaturity. “So what about your quest? Are you watching the clique members as I told you?”

“Yeah, I spy on the greasers sometimes, and the Preps. But everything’s fine, nothing important seems to be occurring.”

“Good. Keep watching the cliques. The best way to destroy our enemies is to know their defect point.” Melvin says conspiratorially, “And, yes, we’re going to need more spies for this quest. I think that new knight… Leo, will be a good spy for us. Go talk to him later.”

“A new spy? I thought I was going good….”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, brother! You ARE going good, AMAZING, in fact. But we need more look outs; you can’t be everywhere at once, can you?”
“Hmm, I guess not,” Fatty nodded.

“If you manage to spy on those foul villains long enough for you to hear their secrets or something important, it’ll help us in taking control over them and striking our much needed revenge. Oh, also, there’s someone else I want you to watch, George. Make sure he doesn’t do any of his stupidities with the jocks, or anyone else for that matter. We need to be behind the scenes for a while, and to NOT attract attention. You may go now.”

Fatty left the room, and Melvin started to think about his clique’s future. He chose Fatty to spy on the cliques because he was silly…. Or looked to be silly while in reality, Fatty’s was very smart. Another person Melvin was thinking of was the new nerd, Leo. His strategic knowledge would help him a lot, he was pretty much a born scout. And his skinny stature, which would help him sneak around a lot and hide in harder places to reach, which Fatty was incapable of.

George had acquired a prestigious amount of experience with the slingshot, which allowed him to hit targets precisely, even from a long shot range. In fact, the only thing that made Melvin patient on George’s snobbish and reckless behavior was that he’d need him due to his immense skill. Melvin hated the Jocks just as much as George, if not more so, but Melvin always liked to plan things out beforehand, to be patient before his plans could take flight. Unlike George, who would perform wild acts and not think of the circumstances or dire consequences that could follow with it.

Melvin had a secret reason for hating the Jocks that only a few knew of. Melvin was a nerd at heart, he always had been, but his father was ashamed of his son and always abused him as a child for his nerdish ways. This abusive childhood that Melvin lived made him hate his dad and hate all the Jocks. It made his blood explode, and he always wanted to see the jocks at his knees begging for mercy, and he was going to do anything to achieve that. Melvin thought to himself, One day, the brave knights WILL rule.
« Last Edit: August 31, 2013, 05:22:05 PM by Mohamed The Kowalski »

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #5 on: September 05, 2013, 07:00:24 AM »
Derek Kauffman was a new kid at Bullworth.  He’d walked into the gates with a little bit of confidence and some charisma, thinking that this place was going to be a breeze, especially due to his fine looks and confidence.  At least that’s what he thought.

A few days in this "School" and he’d realized how much of a hellhole this place was. He noticed that the school had a lot of cliques, each in their own clothes and ways of speaking, always clawing at each others eyes like rabid dogs, and the prefects actual lack of control over the state of the school. He wasn’t afraid of anyone as he was very courageous and self-confident, but it didn’t take a lot of time for him to conclude that life wouldn’t be too easy for him if he messed up bad with someone he wouldn't want to mess up with. So he decided that he’d lay low for a while. At least until there was a suitable opportunity to gain protection, and eventually, reputation.

Other than that, he hadn’t even talked with his roommate, Ralph. They just knew each others names and limited their ‘talk’ to glances at one another, mostly due to Derek not being much of a conversationalist when in this state of mind.

After a few days in Bullworth, he was sitting on his bed, thinking about how he wanted to go back home instantly to his warm bed, and his comfort that was served by his girlfriend.  Gosh, he missed it so much.  And he hadn’t even been at Bullworth for a week. Derek’s line of thought was interrupted by Ralph’s voice emerging out of nowhere.

“So, what’s wrong with you, Derek? You’ve been here for days and haven’t even uttered out a word!”

Derek looked up at Ralph nervously. “I’m just… Trying to stay out of the way. I’ve never seen such hate, I just wanna’ go home, to my family--“  Derek quickly stopped himself from continuing, he couldn’t afford to look weak.  This would open the doors for all sorts of predators.  And if he was going to be stuck in a place like this, he should be the one hunting, not the one who was being hunted.  He quickly regained the strength in his tone and said nonchalantly, “Actually, never mind. Just got a lot of things on my mind, is all.”

“No, No,” Ralph says sympathetically, “I understand what you’re saying. This backward-ass place isn’t getting better; Matter a fact, it’s getting worse by the minute. You see all these cliques running around like they own the place?”  The mysterious kid let out a chuckle, “It’s quite obvious that these....'People' are all the same but with different outfits. Still greedy and covetous.”  Derek started to feel uneasy as Ralph’s tone dropped. “Whatever they desire, will almost certainly be met with disastrous tidings.”

Derek frowned, before putting on a fake smile. He didn't want to get on this guy's bad side. His instincts just told him that something was... Off about this guy. “Sing it, brother.”

“Hopefully I get to sing like a whole tree full of birds sometime soon. Maybe in front of a crowd, eh?”, Ralph replied.

“Lookin’ forward to it, Ralph.” Derek responded enthusiastically.

Ralph gave Derek a wink as he rose to leave the room, “See you around, Derek. Take care of yourself.”

“Right back at ya, buddy.” Derek smiled, and kept smiling until Ralph finally left the room.

Derek exhaled deeply as he dropped his head back onto his pillow; Why the fuck would you send me here, Dad? Right now, Derek's priority was contacting his parents and getting out of Bullworth....Because all Derek knew was that Bullworth was NOT the Utopia that was advertised in their brochure.

Derek sighed as he wallowed off into a deep sleep, letting his problems grasp out of the tight grip in his hands for the time being.

It seemed that sleep was the only time where he could have peace and quiet, away from Bullworth, and away from the memories that came back to remind him each and every day to tease him about his wrong-doings that lead up to the consequences that he now had to face.


Derek had gotten out of a scheduled Sports class at 3:30, glad to have gotten the day over with. As he jammed his hand jacket pocket to get out his wallet, he noticed that there was nothing in it, nada. Great. Just what I need, Derek thought to himself meekly.

He knew about that Shit Stew that was brewed up in the the School Café daily, most students lived off apples and water, or simply went out to restaurants out in Bullworth Town if they had the cash.  Derek, sadly, didn’t.  Besides the obvious luxuries that would accompany you if you had the money available, perhaps money was a needed asset in a place like this.

As Derek walked past the fountain, he noticed a ball dribbling up next to his leg, a Jock, who was playing catch with another one of his buddies, accidentally threw it over too far.
“Hey, Fish!” The Jock called out, “Pass over the ball, eh?”
“Yeah, and hurry up!” The other one continued.

Derek grinned to himself, perhaps now was the time to prove himself. He slowly picked up the ball and looked at it, before smoothly throwing it to them, giving off a perfect spinning effect in the air and impressively landing in its owners hands. The two Jocks couldn't hep but notice that he had a nice throw.

“Nice throw, fish.” The Jock smiled, “Maybe you ought’ to come and talk to one of us when you get the chance. You’d be a nice asset on the field. Later.”
Kauffman smirked; maybe he’d be able to get the protection he so desperately wanted. The kind of protection that a clique such as the Jocks, could provide. The Jocks were very strong, and it looked like everyone was afraid of them. This would be a good way to succeed in his first step. Protection.

As Derek turned around, walking forward around the fountain, he cocked his head to the right and observed an unconscious student in an Aquaberry Vest laying by the stone wall.  Derek figured it must have been a fight between the Preps & the Greasers, he'd noticed that those two cliques were always fighting, or arguing.  Before Derek turned to leave, a light bulb moment flashed within his mind, and he let off a grin, his green eyes skimming through the area.

No Preps, Prefects, or other Students were in sight, at least not for now. Before turning around anxiously to check his surroundings once again, he slowly walked towards the downed Preppy, his ears wide open, and his eyes looking at the Prep, as he went on his knee and started to rummage over the Prep's uniform with his pesky hands.

His gloved hands scavenged around the Prep, looking for money to steal, these were Preps, and he knew they always flashed around their cash whenever they had the chance, and this one was bound to have something on him.

As his hands went into the Prep's pocket, he grabbed out a wallet.  Derek smirked as he grabbed out a wad of cash, his thumb flipping through the notes and giving him a satisfying smell in the process. Before he could lower his nose into the big roll of cash, he suddenly felt the Prep's hand grab his throat, absolutely terrifying him.

“No, No!!” The Prep bawled hysterically, a deep gash with blood dripping from his forehead. “Get Off!!!! GET OFF!!!!!”

Derek’s heart rate bounced up in shock  He desperately tried to get the hand off of his throat, but the grip kept getting tighter and tighter.  With every tug Derek threw at the Prep's hand, every scream kept getting louder by the second.  Derek would be blamed for the attack if he were seen like this, and that was the least of what he needed.

“Shut Up,” Derek growled at him in an agitated whisper, “Shut Up, Shut Up!!!”

“SCOTT!!!  SCOTT!!!!  HELP!!!  HELP!!!”  The Prep's screams became even louder, his eyes bulging and wriggling around wildly.

Derek hadn't really noticed how injured this Prep was until now, but he could tell now that the Prep didn’t even know where he was.  The Prep was in a fanatic state of mind, but right now, Derek couldn't indulge to focus on the Prep himself, what Derek was thinking about was saving his own ass, ASAP.  He didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if he were to be blamed for this feral attack.

"No!!!!!  No!!!!!!"  The the Prep's voice yelled out again.

“SHUT UP!!!” Derek screeched, throwing a furiously distressed punch at him and knocking the Prep’s head back onto the pavement with a loud thump.  His head lolled back and forth, cutting off his screaming abruptly. “Oh… Oh, Shit...No, No", Derek said to himself hoarsely, shoving the wad of cash in his pocket and dropping the wallet next to his shaking feet.  "No, No….”, He gasped out once again, covering his mouth over with his hand.

“Robert ?”, a voice called out from the distance, out of sight towards Harrington House. “Robert ?!?”

Derek stared down at the Prep, who lay there looking lifeless, with a glance of disgust and regret evident on his face.  He turned around and started sprinting out of the area in a rapidly frenzied pace.
« Last Edit: September 08, 2013, 01:39:36 PM by ChuckX »

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #6 on: September 23, 2013, 06:47:29 AM »
The Prep Clique of Bullworth Academy was perhaps the most hated clique among the school. They were snobbish and most of them thought they were above everyone else because they had money. This entitlement attitude, however, was obvious throughout all the cliques, each  claiming superiority over the other.  Uniforms are relics, and despite how different they all were from each other, all shared similarities in ways they didn't even notice.

While at school, the Preps resided in the Harrington House. The building that was built by their leader’s Grandfather for them to have an area to interact with one another without the discomforts of 'Peons' interrupting them. The Harrington House was used as a Hang Out Area and a Sleeping Area for the Preps while they were at Bullworth.

Tad, Parker and Gord were hanging out in the House's Bar.  Although despite the fact that 'Bar' was often synonymous with 'Alcohol', the Bar in the Harrington House wasn't supposed to be used for any alcoholic beverages.  But both Tad and Gord ignored the newly instated rule given to them by Derby.

“So, you're a drinker, huh Gord ?" Parker asked with a hint of disdain.

"What ?" Gord replied tipsily, gulping down the alcoholic beverage. An annoyed tone evident in his voice. "Parker, Parker. . . I've always tried to explain that alcohol is not perfect...But it gives you a chance to shape your own destiny."

Parker cocked an eyebrow . "Gord, what in God's name are you on about?  Do I always have to tell you that you're not a Burmese poli-- . . ." Parker sighed, "You know what ? Forget it. . . All I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't be doing this. I know what alcohol can do to a man."

“And who are you ? My FATHER ?!" Gord slurred out. "I want to get drunk and forget all my problems. Why do people have to try and take that away from me ?” Gord asked incoherently.
“I don't know," Tad butted in. "I just can’t believe that Derby condemned bringing alcohol here, saying that it would cause more problems,” Said Tad, finishing his cup of wine. "He’s becoming more and more of a coward these days. Now I'm starting to think that he always was."

“Hey, watch your tongue," Parker called out. "This is our leader you're talking about. . ." He said cautiously.

"Leader?" Gord scoffed. "What leader disapproves of his comrades drinking what they please ?" He said angrily. "Hell, he couldn't lead his way out of a Styrofoam box for goodness sakes! He--" The Prep's voice was cut off from a screaming down below.


"What the ?. . ." Gord crooned.
“That's Scott !” Shouted Parker.

"Scott ?" Gord garbled out, "You mean the ignorant pissant ?!"  Gord burst out laughing, spitting out the alcohol from his mouth in the process. The others ran down the stairs as fast as they could.

A large crowd of Preps emerged, they all stood and watched as Scott carried Robert into the Harrington House. He was severely injured, and his eyes seemed to be rolling out of his head. They had never seen such a horrendous sight.

“What the hell happened ?!" Parker shouted.

"I..I..I don't know," Scott said in a fast murmur, now raising his voice. "I just found him like this ! WHO THE FUCK DID THIS ?!", He shrieked.

"We have to get him to the Hospital !" Parker cried out.

"What In God’s Name Is Going On In Here ?” Derby yelled out, angrily storming out of his room and into the center of the commotion.
“He was screaming ! Screaming in pain !" Scott said in a distressed tone. "He was ALL bloody ! DON'T YOU GET IT ?!”, Scott screamed.

Scott slumped Robert onto the couch nearby. “Calm Down !” Derby roared. "Tell me what happened, slowly. . . Or else I won't care to listen. Don't YOU get it ?"
"F- F- Fine. . ." Scott's voice was shaky. "I heard him. . . Screaming. Loudly. I went down to help him, I found him like this.  Those. . . Fucking. . . SAVAGES !"

"Now, let's sort this out," Parker offered. "Who would have done this ?"
"Isn't it obvious you dumb baboon ?", Tad replied with an agitated tone, "Those No Good Greaseballs ! Only THEY would DARE do something like this !"
"But...But, why ?" Parker said in a worried tone. "We've left each other alone for a long time.  I thought all of this 'Prep Versus Greaser' nonsense was OVER with !"

Gord marched down the stairs, hearing the fuss, and he felt as if it was up for him to sort this out. He proclaimed drunkenly, "We shall DEFEND our island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight ON the beaches, we shall FIGHT on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields AND in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall NEVER surrender."
"Oh for FUCK'S sake, Gord !" Parker finally snapped. "Stop with the god damn quotes !"
"Anger dwells only in the bosom of fools," Gord retorted. "But, yes, I do believe those dirt monkeys did this." He tipped back his head and laughed. "But after all, who really cares when you have alcohol to soothe the pain ?"
"What ?" Derby said, whipping around to look at Gord with a grim face. "What did you say about alcohol ?"
"What, me ?" Gord replied innocently. "Oh, nothing. Just a, err. . . Figure of speech. Yeah, that's it ! You know, metaphors and all."

"The Greasers did this." Tad stated, taking the attention off Gord. "No one else would have a motive."
"The Nerds could have done this, or the Jocks," Parker said.

"I doubt that, Parks," Tad said dismissively.

“Whether those Greasers beat Robert up or not, we should go down to their pathetic hangout and teach them that they're no match for us," Gord declared.
“As much as I'd like to do that, you're being a bit of a Mongrel,” Bif stated with an irritated tone. "We're not going to storm in there and cause another war, it's too risky."
"So, so. . . You're going to let this attack. . . SLIDE ?!" Scott screamed at everyone. "We need to teach them NOT to mess with US !  I'm going down there NOW.  Whether any of you like it or NOT !"

In reality, Scott couldn't care less about the rest of the Preps, or their reputation.  He wanted to get revenge for his friend Robert.  He was furious.  And he wouldn't let this slide for anything. Even if Derby, his 'leader', disapproved.
“YOU HOLD ON RIGHT THERE !" Derby yelled in return, angrily glaring at Scott. "You're not doing ANYTHING without my permission !  I don't care if they beat Robert up or not, we're not going down there to fight the Greasers !  Think of the CONSEQUENCES.  Use your bloody HEADS !  We've got IMPORTANT matters to deal with. MUCH more important than the likes of THIS !"

The Preps were astonished at Derby’s answer.  Derby never disapproved of a fight between them and the Greasers, and he usually never cared about problems or circumstances.
Scott was rather angry than astonished. "OUR matters ? Or YOURS ?" Scott said with a cold scowl.

"Excuse Me ?" Derby stared at Scott, who was not backing down. "You report to ME ! ME ! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT OR NOT ?!"

The rest of the Preps remained quiet. They weren't going to interfere.
Scott's voice dropped into a dark tone. "I don't know if you understand this or not. But I'm not going to allow this to happen, you might, but I won't.  One of our own was beaten to a pulp, and you're not going to do anything about it ?"
"You know what ?" Derby yelled, "I'm the LEADER of this group.  I am YOUR SUPERIOR.  What I say, YOU follow. . . When I tell you to JUMP, you ask 'HOW HIGH'.  But you know what ?  I don't bloody care.  Do what you please. See how things go for you," Derby turned his attention to the rest of his clique. "I'm going to my room.  Don't any of you DARE interrupt me," and with that, he turned around and walked off.

“Derby’s changed. . ." Tad said, now with a serious tone. "And not for the better, either."

"That's not up for you to decide," Bif said angrily. "Do as your told. And as for this little. . . Situation, we'll figure out a solution soon enough."

Bryce, who was in the background, spoke. "We need to take Robert to the hospital. And soon."
"You're fucking right, you DO !" Scott screeched, "And while you do that, I've got some business to take care of." He turned and walked off.

"No, No, you bloody don't," Bif retorted, running after Scott, who was already walking rapidly to the front door of the Harrington House. "That's not a WISE thing to do, OK ? Get Back, NOW !"

"FUCK OFF !" Scott screamed, pushing him away, running out of the entrance of Harrington House and making a beeline to the Autoshop.

"Scott !" Bryce called out, "Don't !" He yelled, sprinting after Scott.
« Last Edit: September 23, 2013, 12:58:33 PM by ChuckX »

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #7 on: September 25, 2013, 07:49:13 AM »
Ricky and Peanut were both near the front entrance of the Auto Shop, conversing over various topics, most of which saddened Larry (Otherwise known by his nickname, ‘Peanut’), due to their sensitive nature.

“Larry, I’ve noticed that you’ve been. . . Eh, how do I say this? You’ve been a downer, man.” Ricky blurted out. “What’s been up with you ?”

“It’s nothin’ man,” Larry replied, trying his best to uphold a strong tone in his voice. “I’ve just been, you know.....Thinking of some things, it's been putting me into this state of mind, yah know ? But, enough of that, eh ? I need to talk to you about somethin’ important, I----“

“YOU SON’S OF BITCHES !!!!” Scott’s voice interrupted, screaming furiously from a distance, his face bright red with anger. “I’m going to FUCK you ALL UP !”

The two Greasers turned around and faced him, absolutely lost for words. What the hell was happening ?

“What ? Huh ?” Ricky managed to utter out, looking at the Prep advancing towards him. It was as if he was frozen.
“You’re going to PAY for what you’ve done !!!” Scott howled with fury. “YOU HEAR ME ?! I WILL FUCK YOU UP !!!!!!”

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa !!,” the Greasers heard Bryce shout nervously, running up behind Scott.

“Back Off ! Back Off !” Bryce yelled, getting in front of the manic Scott and trying to push him back. “You’re not thinking straight, you hear me ? Back Off !!”

Bryce’s words were met with no response; Scott simply kept trying to push forward, with the two stunned Greasers watching in astonishment.

“You know what they did,” Scott said with a low tone. “YOU KNOW WHAT THEY FUCKING DID !!!” Scott roared, grabbing Bryce by the hair and hurling him into the stone wall next to them, a loud thump occurring in the process as Bryce’s body slumped to the ground.

“YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID TO HIM !!! He may NEVER be the same AGAIN !!” Scott continued his angry tirade at the now unconscious Bryce, the words seething from his mouth, with saliva spouting in every direction as he unleashed his fury.

Scott dropped to his knees next to Bryce and again grabbed him by the hair, "You're fucking PATHETIC ! YOU HEAR ME ?" He shook Bryce's head up and down in a violent manner, "Don't EVER get in my way AGAIN !"

Suddenly, Scott heard a large entourage of foot-steps approaching towards him. Presumably other Greasers had heard the commotion and were checking it out to see if a fight was brewing.  They all stood next to Ricky and Peanut, looking at Scott, smashing their fists into their palms.

Scott angrily let go of Bryce's head, standing up and facing the large group of Greasers.  He was not the slightest bit intimidated due to the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the absolute anger that was controlling him.

“You THINK you can INTIMIDATE. . . ME ?!” Scott laughed hysterically, walking around in circles. "ME ?! REALLY ?! What a  JOKE !! A bunch of MUPPETS stuck in the 50s are supposed to SCARE ME ?!?! " Scott burst out laughing hysterically, then taking a deep breath and dropping his tone. "If you EVER...Lay a FINGER on Robert again. . . I'll be back. And you really. . . Don't want that !!"

Scott turned around slowly, looking at Bryce, with absolute repugnance and contempt, before walking away from the Greaser's area.  Sure, he and Robert were new to the Clique....But weren't they supposed to protect their own ?  Scott snorted in disgust.  Brother Preps indeed.

« Last Edit: September 25, 2013, 04:07:58 PM by ChuckX »

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #8 on: October 04, 2013, 02:56:01 PM »
Peanut was strung out on the couch located within the Greaser's main hangout, Blue Balls, a bar that was set in New Coventry, a heavily run down, urban area that was mainly populated by the Greasers and others like them.

Peanut laid out a roll of tobacco into his cigarette, rolling it up and taking out a lighter from his jacket pocket, setting it off.  He inhaled and exhaled the smoke, letting out a sigh as he dropped his head back onto the couch.  He had put off asking his fellow Greasers about the attack all day, absolutely too wrenched to even bother.  But he knew he couldn't just let something like this slide.  If he did, not only would it question his ability to lead, but it may also be an invitation to undesirable consequences in the future.

The anxious leader of the Greasers stood and cleared out his throat, preparing to let out his words.

A dirty and scruffy crowd filled the moonlit innards of the Blue Balls estate.  Seedy and worn boys and girls, representing the so called 'dirt' of Bullworth society, all mingling, chatting, and flirting amongst themselves.

Peanut stood up and spoke warily. “Umm...I've been, uh, putting this off. . . Because I honestly couldn't be fucked talking about this earlier. . .”  Peanut grumbled to himself before continuing, “Ladies, it's been wonderful, err, having your 'company', but the party, for tonight, is over.”

A loud “Awwwww” echoed throughout Blue Balls, and the Greasers sighed at Peanut's deceleration.  The girls escorted themselves out of Blue Balls and Peanut let out a murmur as he faced his fellow Greasers, some of them absolutely devastated that their chance at a piece of tail for the night was diminished right before their eyes.

“You know, I... I... "  Peanut stopped and shook his head in disgust.  "Do you all think I'm a fucking idiot ?  Do you all think I DON'T know what just happened today ?  That kid Scott spelled it out in his little angry rant....”  Peanut exhaled roughly, almost in a tired and disappointed tone.

Lucky's voice rose from the crowd of Greasers. “What's the big deal, Peanut ?.... I mean, so what if a snobby, bastard Prep gets his skull smashed in ?  Ain't that a good thing ?”

Peanut stared at Lucky with menacing eyes with a look that all but called him a dumbass.

“You really are naive, aren't you ?” Peanut scorned. “You know WHAT the big deal is ?... Firstly, my friend, those Preps will more than likely be looking for vengeance.  The whole 'Clique War' between us was over, DONE and DUSTED.  But you know what ?  Now it's back. Because ONE little bastard had to go behind MY back, and fuck it ALL up.”

“He's right, you know,” Ricky asserted, moving next to his friend. “Anyone who was behind that attack ought' to come straightforward with it, it'd really sort things out.  We don't want a shitstorm to brew up again, do we now ?”

The Greasers, unsurprisingly, remained quiet.

“Great,” Peanut laughed, “I guess I'll just have to investigate then, eh ?... Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.”  Peanut headed towards the door of Blue Balls, now angrily muttering loudly, “I guarantee you, I'll find out who did this. And when I do, there will be severe consequences.
« Last Edit: October 04, 2013, 06:23:54 PM by ChuckX »

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #9 on: October 19, 2013, 12:15:09 PM »
Derby was still holed up and locked in his room at the Harrington House.  His eyes were gloomy, and he felt like the entire weight of the world was staggering on his shoulders, bringing him down wherever he would go.

The blue-blooded Prep found memories scattering over his mind, all absolutely fueling him with anger and sorrow.  He had never had to stomach such emotions before, never in all of his life. Derby was so use to getting everything he wanted, all of his desires with no consequences due to the status of his surname.  This couldn't be happening.  Not to him.

Derby forced the grim memories from his mind.  He sat on his silky carpet, gazing at the box under his bed.  He was reluctant, but he finally gave in to his inner desires.  He lunged forward and grabbed the box, the glass bottles rattling against one another as he placed it on his lap.

His brown eyes sparkled at the sight of the contents.  Fine alcoholic vodka.  Very fine, indeed.  With one last, rueful glance at the beverage, he decided that he had deserved this drink.  It was shameful that his state kept bringing him back to this , but it was all too much for Derby to bear.  And he found, reluctantly, this to be the best solution.

He had never imagined himself becoming attached to alcohol.  Why would he be in the first place ?  A person of his status was bound for glory.  But he sure as hell didn't feel glorious right about now.

Derby truly felt as if he was becoming more pathetic by the minute, but he always covered it up with a smile, with some arrogant charm.  But he couldn't do so any longer.  And he could tell it was starting to dawn upon his fellow Preps.

Problems, Problems, Problems.

Derby reached for the bottle of Vodka, grabbing the lid and opening it up.  He took a mouthful and swigged it down, some of the Vodka even spilling out of his mouth due to the speed that he drank not being able to hold all the alcohol that was being flooded in.

Derby sighed and stretched, feeling somewhat relieved.   “Ahhh.... That's.... Good....”  He stood up and clumsily dropped to his bed, his voice now straining furiously as he had now ended his long gulp.  “Really........ GOOD !!”

He released an angry snarl of fury, throwing the bottle across the room, unflinching as it smashed onto the wall opposite of him.  Glass shattered dramatically as the remaining contents of the alcohol started running down the wall and flowing across the floor.  Almost instantly, a pair of fists started banging against Derby's door, a voice calling out in concern.

“Derby ?” The voice yelled out, “Is everything alright ?  What is going on !?!”

The leader of the Preps angrily rose up, stomping to the door as he aggravatingly flung it open. “I told you I did not want to be disturbed !!”

The face of his second in-command, Bif, stood before him.  “I.... I..... I didn't know if you were all right or not...”  His eyes shifted to the late-bottle's contents that now formed a puddle on the floor.  “What.... What is that ?”, Bif questioned as his nostrils took notice, his eyes widening in surprise as he realized.  “Is that..... Alcohol, Derby ?”

Derby's eyes turned dark, he clenched his fists, tensing. He gritted his teeth to prevent his anger from erupting, “NO....”, He said strongly, “Now Get.... OUT.... Of My FACE !!!”  He surged forward as he angrily shoved his loyal companion back against the far wall beyond the threshold, then suddenly slamming his door as he dropped to the floor again.

Derby gripped and pulled upwards on his hair, anger and hatred fueling his lungs. “Think you can do this to me, huh ?", the rich boy hoarsely whispered to himself.  “This doesn't happen....” Derby slowly rose to his feet. “To People.....”  He lunged forward toward the wall in his room and planted a fist into it, forming a hole. “TO ME!!!!!”

His knuckles began to form blood, and he angrily bit on his bottom lip, suppressing his pain. “Bloody CUNT!” He screamed. He stormed out of his room.


Rain poured down on Bullworth without mercy, a full moon entailing with the rain. Two students in leather jackets, inside of their turf in the Auto-Shop area, stood before one another.  Rain drenched both of them and water oozed down their faces.

“Hey, it's fucking cold out here.” A voice belonging to one of the new Greasers complained, “If you're going to talk, make it quick.”  His voice was sternly rough. "We should go back ins."

The equally new Greaser walked over to him in a friendly manner, ignoring the rain that was drenching him.  “Um.... We were talking about confession earlier, and.....”, he began.  His voice was sincerely apologetic, and the look in his eyes was corresponding to that fact.  “..... And I think I owe you an apology, because I lied to you.”


Derby felt like he hadn't been to his own home for an eternity. The noble stone walls and towers made it look more like a palace than a house. The utter brilliance of the decorations and design added onto its excellence. Gargoyles stared down from the upper stories. The place belonged in some sort of kingdom, not mere miles away from Bullworth Town.

A place to hold just one man, the 'God-Like' Mr. Harrington.  A normal person merely couldn't comprehend exactly why you'd need such a space for yourself.  You could move half of Bullworth's populace inside.

Derby, his face hot red, furiously stomped to the front door.  Anger flashed across his features repetitively.

The elderly Butler greeted him at the door.  Derby recognized who he was instantly....Edward Maximillian, a gracious man who had been serving the Harringtons for longer than he could care to remember.  He had been catering to his family for over two decades, but it was no matter to Derby right now.

“I need to see my Father,” Derby said tersely.

“Sorry, Sir”, the Butler replied, “Mr. Harrington does not take unscheduled calls.”

“Are you kidding me ??”, Derby spat.  “He's my bloody FATHER !!!”

The Butler conveyed an expression of sympathy. “I truly am sorry for any inconveniences, young Sir. Perhaps --- URK !!!......”

Edward's words were rudely cut off from Derby's hand being tightly wrapped around his throat. “I couldn't give a rat's if duty calls, Edward", he snarled.  "But I NEED to see him, Now.”

Derby threw the elderly man aside.  The butler gasped for air as he landed on the ornate portico just outside the front door.  As Derby entered the door, he crooned his head towards Edward with a tinge of regret.  He truly hadn't wanted to do that.  He had known the Butler since he was merely a baby.  But still, Derby couldn't get choked up on nonsense like this.  He advanced forward through the layers of the mansion, in hot pursuit of his neglectful father.

Minutes later, Derby found himself standing before an all too familiar luxurious study.  Memories once again came flooding back, twirling and swirling around in his mind.  It was all too much to bear.

Secrets that should have stayed buried.

The study of the Harrington Mansion had become Mr. Harrington's personal sanctuary, away from the nonstop phone calls, emails, faxes, meetings, and asperity that came with the 'job'.  He liked to think he did his best here, where he could actually concentrate without being interrupted—at least most of the time.

Mr. Harrington was in the study room as Derby entered, sitting on a chair with an antique desk plastered in front.  An elaborate computer that presumably cost a fortune sat on the desk in front of him.  He was rigorously plowing through mountains of files before him, not noticing a huffing sound that began filling the room until it became irritating.  As he lowered his glasses and looked at his fuming son, he sighed.  As his eyes connected with Derby's, the boy was horrified by how much the once-dashing, charming man he called his Father had changed, but tried not to show it.  He maintained his angry demeanor.

“Yes, Son?” The gravelly voice at last asked. "It's been.... Quite awhile....."

“What's wrong with you ?” Derby harshly said, getting straight to the point.  It was more of a statement than a question. “What...The...HELL...Is Wrong with You ??!”

Mr. Harrington sighed as he rose from the desk and hobbled over to the couch in the study, placing himself on it. “I have no idea of what you're talking about, Son.”

Derby's face shriveled up into a disgusted look. “Don't you call me SON !.... Do you have any idea what you're doing to the family name ??..... What you're doing TO ME ?!”

“Yes,” the weary voice objected haltingly, his tired eyes shifting towards his son. “I'm keeping the name safe.... The.... Empire that IS the Harringtons...... Safe.  A name that has thrived for years.... I'm keeping it alive..... And most importantly, Son....I'm keeping you safe.”

“You're doing nothing you no good Cunt !!", Derby said savagely.  His heart beat increased as he spouted off the curse, for he found it strangely rewarding.  “You're ruining my Life.  You're ruining our family NAME !  Pushing me out of your life ?  Keeping me THERE ?  At that DUMP ?!  What the hell ARE you doing ??!”

Mr. Harrington still maintained his tired look as he said, “Look...I'm being sucked into a hole, Derby.  A dark hole that, IF...I were to gain entrance to..... Catastrophic consequences would follow.  I don't want you to go down with me if something bad were to happen, Son.  You have to understand.....”

Derby's face was pleading for a real answer.  His eyes were desperate, and he was fighting to hold in his tears.  "Why ?", he pleaded, feeling truly pathetic. “Just...Why ?”

His father remained quiet.

Derby returned to his angry tirade. “WHY ?!?!  TELL ME !  WHAT IS HAPPENING ?” The boy demanded.

“I can't,” His father replied, digging his face into the palm of his hand.  “I can't tell you.”

“Why NOT, you Stupid Bastard !?!”, Derby raged

"I just.....", Mr. Harrington stumbled.

".... You're a No Good Piece of Shit !", Derby spurred on.

"I can't.......", Mr. Harrington moaned.

".... NO WONDER MOTHER LEFT YOU !!", Derby screamed, throwing the truth at his Father.

"I JUST CAN'T !!!!", his Father yelled, grabbing a lamp and spurring it into a wall.  “Just...GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!” The man demanded. “NOW! !!!”

Derby jumped slightly, taken aback by his shock.  He bit on his bottom lip, drawing blood.

“GET OUT !!!!”, Mr. Harrington repeated, flinging a hand towards the doorway.

Derby gave him a venomous look as he furiously mumbled to him, his eyes colder than ever before. “You're Pathetic.”

Mr. Harrington didn't respond.  Derby turned away and marched out of the Mansion, knowing even less than he did when he entered. 

« Last Edit: October 19, 2013, 11:49:53 PM by ChuckX »

Offline Evolution

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #10 on: November 15, 2013, 08:11:41 PM »
Peanut ambled up to the entrance of the Auto-Shop. The moon floated above him, and the dark, thick blanket of fog made him shiver. Winter was coming up and he wasn't looking forward to it. The Greaser let out an exhale as he proceeded down into his turf. It was shortly after the party that Peanut stormed off in anger. He knew no one would man up and confess to him. But no one made a fool out of him like that. No one.

The outskirts of the Auto-Shop seemed abandoned. Unsurprising. They were all down at Blue Balls at the bar.

Peanut reached for a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and took out his lighter. He flicked the lighter with his thumb, but to no avail. The irritating fwhip sound was all he could hear. In anger, he threw the lighter to the ground and sighed heavily. Had he known taking over leadership of the Greasers would have been so tough ?..... No. But Johnny wasn't here any more. And he couldn't afford to look weak in front of anyone. Peanut was by himself. No one to turn to. He mused to himself absently. “Can't wait to get out of this shit-hole......”

Out of the midst, the sound of someone groaning thoroughly could be heard. Peanut paused and frowned. He halted his movements and absorbed the sounds he was hearing. He knew he had not just imagined that sound. A frown still plain on Peanut's face, he cautiously took a few steps forward. And just as he was about to run out of the Auto-Shop to find the Greasers to help him out, he heard a small, whimpering voice behind him.

“Help.....Please....... Ugghh.....”

“What the---?....” Peanut dropped to his knees and finally found what he was looking for. A slumped body over in his turf. At first he couldn't grasp the voice of the student laying down in his turf. But he finally recognised it. Adam. One of the new Greasers.

“Oh, fuck.” Peanut said to himself, grabbing Adam so they both had eyecontact. “What the fuck happened here ?!”

Adam was shaking intently, both from the cold and the effects that he had undertaken. He let out a slow answer. “.... I was attacked.....” He began. “I wasn't the only one.... Ryan is over there.... They came at us, man..... I'm sorry I....” He let out a cough. “I'm sorry I couldn't stop them....”

Peanut let out an exasperation of both fury and irritation. “No, no, it's not your fault.” Peanut spoke through gritted teeth. “Who did this ?..... Tell me WHO did this, Adam.”

“I..... I don't want there to be any consequences from this...... Let's just forget about it.... Okay ?.... Please, help Ryan, he needs help.....”

There's going to be BIG fucking consequences, alright. Peanut angrily thought to himself, ignoring Adam's plea for help.

Peanut became irritated at Adam's inability to answer the question.  “Listen, Adam.... The only way we can resolve this problem is if you tell me who.....” Peanut took a deep breath to keep himself from exploding, “.... If you tell me who did this.”

Adam bit on his lip, and reluctantly answered. “Those Preps.....” Adam managed to gasp out. “Three or four of them came at us with weapons..... Hit me in the rib cage, shot Ryan in the head..... He needs help..... More than I do..... Please !.....”

A massive wave of fury rushed over Peanut at the revelation. “Of course...... Of course.....” He muttered to himself, “Should have expected it.” He grumbled, too tired to raise his voice. “Should have known.” He let out a slight laugh. “What did you say before, sorry ?.....” Peanut casually asked Adam, seeming to have forgotten of the current predicament that was taking place.

Adam frowned, speaking as much as his throat could allow. “Read....... my lips..... Help...... RYAN !” He let out a garbled cough, clutching his stomach. The target of impact on the ambush beforehand.

“Oh, yeah..... Ryan.” Peanut said to himself. “Ryan......” He vainly walked over to the other Greaser.

Derek sat on the steps of the entrance of the Football field. He had tried to clear his mind out shortly after the incident involving that rich kid..... But he just couldn't get over it. What if they came after him ?...... What if he was expelled ?....... What would his parents do with him then ?.... A string of days had already passed by and no one seemed to suspect him in any of it, although that may have been because he wasn't really hearing any news of it. But Derek knew. If he was held responsible for his actions, severe consequences would follow. And he wasn'tafraid of school punishment.

“Hey,” a familiar, friendly voice hollered out, interrupting his thoughts. “Welcome to our little group, Derek.”
Derek cleared out his throat and maintained a casual tone in his voice. “Oh, yeah, thanks, Dan...... I appreciate it.”

The ginger Jock smiled. “You did good in training Yesterday, man. I'm impressed.” Dan turned around, signalling for Derek to follow. “Let's go to the bleachers, eh ?..... Meet some of the people.”

Derek wasn't exactly choked up with excitement to meet the other Jocks. From the attitude he had observed during his training, his thoughts about these “Jocks” had been correct. Only Dan seemed like the only decent Jock he'd met so far. But at least meeting these other Jocks would take his mind off other things.

The two had reached the bleachers, and climbed up the benches, going to where the other Jocks were. Members of the clique who were on the bleachers were: Casey, Dylan, and Josh Stewart.

Derek placed himself on the bench, seated next to a sprawled out, and yawing Dan. Derek led his head back and sighed. He remained quiet and was content to sit back and let the conversation pass him by.

He didn't know much about these Jocks he was going to surround himself with after his successful training initiation, but he had a hunch that, from what he saw, most of them seemed below him in every aspect.

Josh Stewart, perhaps the personification of a “Cocky Jock”, had an air of pompous attitude as he grinned on. “Now, let's say, if they DO have a good personality, but aren't great looking..... Then who fucking cares ?.....”

Dylan countered, bringing on his point of rebuttal. “Let's just say hypothetically, what if they do have a good personality ?”

After a few seconds of silence, all three contemplating the question, the group bursted into laughter. “Dylan......” Casey nearly ran out of breath due to his laughter. “That..... That is funny.”

“I have to agree with the big man,” Josh nodded in agreement, still chuckling. “The only good girl is a chick who consists of a great body, will grant all sexual demands, and will keep her dumb bimbo mouth shut at all times.”

Derek continued to observe the conversation. He found it amusing how these Jocks thought.

Dylan tutted sarcastically. “Didn't your mother teach you to be respectful to women ?......” He grinned, “I bet you do well with the ladies, eh ?....”

A smug look enveloped Josh's handsome features. “You bet your ass I do. They're putty in my hands.” Josh then turned his attention to Dan and Derek. “Well, hello you two.”

“What's going on, bro ?....” Dan said, not expecting a reply. “This is Derek. I think you two met at training.”

Josh took his brown eyes and studied Derek's features, finally remembering their minor confrontation beforehand on the field while training. “Ahh, yes. We did meet. You have nice skills, kid. Maybe one day you can get to my level, eh ?”

Derek glowered at Josh. He didn't take too kindly to being put down so condescendingly by a smug bastard. “Right.....” Derek replied uncertainly, making the disdain in his voice obvious.

Dylan rose up, yawning and stretching as he continued. “Well, I'm going now. Gonna' go to sleep or something..... I'm fuckin' tired.”

“But it's only..... 4:30....” Dan noted, glancing at his watch.

“Yeah, but I did some homework today, lots of it..... I'm fucking wrecked.”
“Did you make a nerd do your work ?” Josh smirked.
Dylan pointed the middle finger at him jokingly. “Unlike you clowns, I actually do my homework by MYSELF. Who says I need some geek bastard to do it for me ?..... I think you all should do the same, to be rather honest.”
“Take notes people,” Josh grinned, pointing to Dylan. “Man of wisdom right here.”

Dylan once again pointed gave him the middle-finger, smiling as he walked off.

“So......” Josh yawned in a bored manner. “I'm off, I'll talk you ladies later.” He got off the bench and walked off. “Casey, you comin' with ?....”

“Sure, man. I'm comin'," Casey nodded, turning towards Dan and Derek. "See you two later." Casey followed Josh off the bleachers as Derek looked on.

Derek once again sighed to himself. Leaning his head back and spreading out across the entire bench. Making it his current “bed” of sorts. He was going to need to find out any updates of the situation involving the Prep very, very soon.

“Hey, Derek, you coming ?.... We're goin' out to have a game of basketball in the gym later.”
Derek shook his head. “No, I got to relax here, clear out my mind. Talk to you soon, Dan.”

Dan nodded. “Sure man, see ya.”

Derek let his eyelids close as clouded thoughts raced through his mind.


« Last Edit: November 15, 2013, 08:42:06 PM by Evolution »

Offline Evolution

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #11 on: November 15, 2013, 08:30:01 PM »
The Bullies, after Russell's departure from the school, had basically became a leaderless group. But it was mostly Trent or Davis handling most of the affairs, which could place them as the "Leaders" of sorts.

The “Bullies” obviously weren't as intimidated without Russell by their side, who was the de facto leader, and caused the other cliques to back off from them. But even after he did leave, the boys in the small group went a long time without running into any trouble, due to the fact that they didn't really get involved with any other cliques but the Nerds and the occasional Non-Clique, often bullying them or just sticking to themselves. But recently, however, things hadn't been so simple.

Trent, Davis, Ethan, and a new “Bully”, Thomas Brown, were all seated on the poker table as a reality T.V. Show fuzzed on, each teenager ignoring it as they conversed.

Davis had a stack of chicken bones inside the "Burgers" box in front of him. His bloated stomach had pushed into his jeans and he let out a crude burp.  Trent had finished eating as well and he sat in the chair in a relaxed manner.

Trent sat on Davis' right and took a quick glance at him. “This was a nice change from the usual apples from the cafeteria,” Trent noted. “Where'd you get the food from ?.....”

“I traveled all the way down to Old Bullworth Vale and got the food from a nice joint called 'Burgers' for all you bozos. It's nice, huh ?...”

Trent nodded. “Definitely,” But his voice instantly shifted to a serious tone. “But, uhh, we need to talk about something else."

Ethan took a bite out of his fried chicken and washed it down with a gulp of Sodapop, feeling a wave of release washing over him. “What is it ?”

“We've been running into some problems recently,” Trent glanced at Thomas, the other Bully on the poker-table. “We've been getting some unwanted attention from just about every single clique in the school.”

Davis looked baffled. “And why would that be ?..... We're hermits when it comes to all the other cliques.”

“Thomas,” Trent said, cutting to the chase. “What you're doing isn't really beneficial...... to our, cause.....”

Thomas had a sarcastic grin on his face. “What do you mean, Trent ? I'm a renegade of your 'cause'. Spreading terror and ravaging through Bullworth in a villainous fashion. What's not to love ?"
Trent gazed at him with surprise. “Listen, we don't want those..... Footballers..... Greasers, and rich-kids on our tail.”

“And why would that be ?” Thomas smirked. “A little too scared ?”

Trent rose his palms up defensively, and then banged them on the poker table. “No !" The sound made the other Bullies jump in shock, but Thomas remained unflinching. "I just don't want every clique lining up to beat our asses just because you won't stop fucking around with them !”

“To each his own, I guess.” Thomas replied sadly, his grin still evident.

Trent looked disgusted. “And you know what else I've noticed ?..... You rarely go NEAR those Nerds. What are you, a fucking nerd lover ?”

Thomas kept his mockingly calm tone just to piss him off. “They're too easy to Bully. Too fucking weak and pathetic. But the other cliques ?.... Hey, that's just Evil Vs Evil ain't it ?... More interesting in my opinion.”

Everyone except Thomas either spluttered or shook their heads.

Ethan summed up the mood. “This won't end out well if this keeps happening.”

“Ohh fine, I'll stop stirring up trouble with all the other cliques. OK ?” Thomas was still condescending at best.

Trent starred at him with angry eyes. “We hear about this shit happening again, things won't go down well for you."

Thomas turned around, heading for the exit of the dorm. His grin grew until it ate up his entire face. “Silly bastards,” He whispered to himself with a chuckle, leaving the Dorm.

Trent turned sourly towards Davis. “If he stirs up ANY trouble whatsoever from now on, you know what to do.”

Davis nodded at Trent. “Yeah...... I know.”

Trent smiled. “Good.”


« Last Edit: November 15, 2013, 08:56:46 PM by Evolution »

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #12 on: January 14, 2014, 01:24:16 AM »
Phillip’s father had been responsible for this. He had paid for the expenses and was sending Phillip away to who knew where. With much anger and feelings of betrayal, Phillip had been forced onto the jet. The jet was quite luxurious but the boy couldn’t help but feel slightly odd. There were supposed to be 12 passengers, but it appeared to himself that it was only him boarding the plane. There were no flight attendants but he could hear them over the intercom, buzzing at him to fasten his seatbelt as they would be enduring some minor turbulence. As the jet transcended off the airspace, Phillip’s hand twitched uncontrollably. He hadn’t been able to get it under control as of late, and could never understand why such a thing would happen to him. He didn’t feel in control when such things occurred. And the worst thing to Phillip was not being in control. Minutes had passed from the take-off and the turbulence had arrived. It was bad. Very bad. Phillip’s eyes suddenly bulged as he looked out of the window. A violent, horrible storm. The clouds were menacing and Phillip helplessly watched on. The jet rocked back and forth violently, and the noise was just too much to bear. The helplessness, the racket..... Lightning blasted away, and Phillip felt that it could hit the jet at any second...... He anxiously waited for an announcement. But he didn't get one. There was dead silence from the cockpit. Phillip angrily strapped off his seatbelt and stood forward. Why wasn’t there anyone speaking?
“Hello?” Phillip called out, his heart beat intensifying. The jet suddenly dropped altitude and Phillip’s eyes once again bulged out of its sockets. “HELLO?!”

A stony silence from the cockpit was all the response that Phillip got. There was nothing below the plane but an endless ocean of waves and a steady current. And it absolutely terrified him. He sped forward down the aisle and banged on the cockpit door, which was locked.

“Hey! What’s going on in there?” Once again, silence...... Silence was all that had greeted him. Phillip, once again, helplessly banged on the door. But to his surprise, as his fist met the door, it creaked open slowly. Phillip reluctantly walked into the cockpit and all that was evident on his face was shock. Pure and absolute shock.


No one.
“No……” Phillip hoarsely whispered to himself, his hand covering his mouth in disturbance. “No…….” Phillip turned and looked out the window. A lightning bolt struck the engine of the plane, and the fire cackled loudly as the storm brewed on, rain pouring down as the plane deviated into a downwards spiral. The wind blew loudly as Phillip tried in vain to keep the noise away from him by shoving his fingers up his ears. A sudden movement in lower altitude viciously flung Phillip down the aisle, his body tumbling as the plane continued to plummet down toward the sea. Phillip's hand shook without remorse as he idly stood up and thought of anything that could help him get out of the plane. Even if it meant risking his life.
The Emergency Hatch. His life vest. It was his best and only bet at surviving such a horrendous fall. Phillip quickly drew up an impromptu plan in his head. He'd jump out before the jet crashed into the water. Would he survive ?.... It was of no matter to him. It was his only chance.

Phillip clumsily moved through the cabin as the jet shook and tilted erratically, he made his way to the hatch and took a deep breath as he leaned over. Frantically reading the instructions on how to open it. You pull one lever, and you pull another. How hard could it be? His hands frantically started acting out, and Phillip cursed. Wind hushed loudly as it pierced his ears. With force, Phillip pulled the lever down and the hatch broke away and instantly soared into the wind. A huge gush of air forced Phillip out of the plane, but he held on to a safety handle. He wasn't even sure his heart was beating.

Phillip shifted his eyes downwards, and all he could comprehend was death. Pure and simple. Hell raged on around him, but death was right below him. Seconds felt like hours, but he only had little time to react. He had to Jump. Phillip couldn't take it. His hands, hardly gripped onto the safety bars. He had to let go. Phillip, taking a huge breath - plunged himself through the hatchway. He was falling. Most likely to certain death. Phillip was sure he saw the jet fly away into the darkness and beyond, but he didn’t care. Wind and the storm was raging all around him. Blinding him. His body was swirling around and he knew what was coming.



Peanut sighed in frustration. After the assault on two of his Greasers, he had managed to get into a ‘meeting’ of sorts with another Prep with who shared the same common cause as he did..... Preventing an all-out war between the two cliques and getting to the bottom of what had caused the recent spark in reviving the conflict.

He looked around. He was near the Bullworth Motel and saw a couple of Bullies hanging around, but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“Where is this kid?” Peanut muttered to himself, lighting a ciggy, resting against a wall and taking a deep breath.
What had happened recently was all a blur to Peanut. A frustrating, angry blur which seemed to be causing chaos and havoc between the two cliques. First a Preppy named Scott barged onto his territory screaming something about “Robert,” and then he got so belligerent that he attacked one of his own - And THEN, two of HIS clique members wound up on the ground in the middle of the night. With Adam stating that the Preps attacked the two of them.

It was just too much. Peanut felt a tinge of shame for not handling it the way Johnny would have, but he wanted to be diplomatic in his efforts to not unleash chaos between the two cliques once again. But his boiling point was reaching…… He just couldn’t idly stand by while his clique were on the receiving end of savage beatings. But once again, if what Scott spat out at them was true, and it obviously was by the looks of it – He’d need to find out which one of his own attacked the Prep and punish him accordingly.

However, unknown to Peanut, the conflict was once again reignited because of the actions of at least two people, one of whom - Derek Kaufman, had exceeded Robert's injuries. A kid who just wanted to get a few quick bucks. However, whoever beat Robert to a bloody mess in the first place was still a mystery. But it could be said without a doubt, that if Derek hadn't interfered, Robert would have had a better chance of recovering his serious injuries.....

A figure appeared out of the shadows and stood with Peanut. It was Parker Oglive, and his face revealed all but sorrow and anger.

“Hello, Larry,” Parker said, walking towards him. “I understand that we’re here to discuss certain…. Issues…..”

Peanut nodded. “That’s right…. The only reason I approached you with the offer to talk was because out of all the Preps, you seem like you’re the least thirsty for blood….. And I wanted to get down to the bottom of this problem, so we can forget that all of his ever happened.”

“Well then….. To cut to the chase….. Who attacked Robert ?”

Peanut honestly had no idea who had attacked him, but he wanted to find out who was responsible for the attack on Adam and Ryan, with the latter receiving major head concussions.

“No, no, this doesn’t work like that. You tell ME who attacked Adam and Ryan…. Do you have any idea how bad Ryan is ?..... A goddamn spud gun pellet smashed right into his temple, and the receiving fall from the ground caused major head injuries. He’s in a coma, Parker. In a goddamn coma…. And who knows for how long ?”

Adam hadn’t sustained the deadly injuries Ryan did, but he had been shot in the stomach two times, and he found it excruciating to even walk properly.

Parker blinked and then angrily responded. "Oh, and you THINK he's the ONLY one ?..... Robert is in the hospital, Larry. His face was beaten to a pulp, and his head was smashed against the goddamn ground !..... But you know what ?  I don’t know WHO attacked them. But I seriously doubt it was any one of us.”

Peanut’s face spluttered. “That’s bullshit, Parker. How about that Scott kid ? Wouldn’t he have the MOST motive out of all of you ?”

Parker nodded. “That’s true. But Scott visited Robert in the hospital and stayed by his side the entire night. And this was DURING the night of the attack. The people in the hospital can attest to that fact. I even checked myself. He has an alibi.”
Anger flourished within Peanut as he didn’t know what to think. “Then WHO ?.... WHO for FUCK'S sake ?!”

"I don't KNOW who!" Parker yelled back in response, frustration boiling within him. "Scott attacked Bryce, and who KNOWS how Bryce will handle it..... He's a ticking timebomb, with all of his problems at home and now THIS ?..... Who knows what HE could do ?..... And SCOTT ?.... While he may not have attacked Adam and Ryan, he's a problem. He's causing ranks to break within our little group and he could be the trigger to starting this entire war..... Larry, we need to work together on this."

Peanut was at a loss for words. "It could have been anyone, man...... It could have been..... Anyone....." Peanut strung out his arms and screamed in anger. "You know what ? Fuck this...... I'm sick of this SHIT !!!!"

“Calm down, Larry. Stabilization is breaking, okay ? Between US and between our OWN cliques..... And I believe war between us is imminent….  But none of the other Preps would have gone out and done this. I’m out of ideas. We BOTH need to find out who did what.... And soon. It's the only way this can work, Larry !”
Peanut shook his head and rose his hand. “I’ve heard enough. I’m done with this.” Peanut turned around and stormed off as Parker cursed at him from the distance.

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Re: ***Shadows of Bullworth***
« Reply #13 on: July 12, 2014, 05:28:51 AM »
It was getting on late afternoon, about 4 o’clock. The heat from the day was passing away slowly, the Sun was on its way to setting in just a few hours.  Many of the Nerds were gathered in the library, as the Teachers wanted some of them to do some researching about different subjects, knowing Nerds would do that when no other students would.

Melvin, seeing that it was a great load of work on his fellow Knights, gave them the permission to spend the whole afternoon in the library, and he asked a couple of the free Nerds who had no work to go with the others and help them as a show of cooperation between them, an all-for-one and one-for-all kind of thing.

However, unknown to those Nerds, Melvin did this to clear the Observatory for his own use, as he had been told by his spies before that they had important information concerning the Preps and the Greasers.  Melvin thought it would be a good idea to arrange a meeting between himself and them at the Observatory, and he wanted to keep the other Nerds away so that they could talk freely in Melvin’s bedroom in the Observatory.

Fatty and Leo, the new spy, were sitting on some old partly cracked wooden chairs facing Melvin, who was sitting on his well-organized bed.

“So you’re trying to tell me that the whole Prep-Greaser clique war was because of that Derek boy?” Melvin asked Leo with surprise.

“It looks like it.” answered Leo. “I didn’t see the whole act though.”

“Explain what you saw specifically",  Melvin told him.

“I was just walking towards the fountain area, when I saw that boy called Derek taking money from the pocket of Robert the Prep", Leo related.  "I was afraid he would see me, so I hid fast in the nearest trash bin, but I still could watch him.”

“And then what happened ?”, asked Melvin.

“Robert put his hand on Derek’s throat and screamed out for Scott to help him", Leo continued.  "Derek then hit Robert and when he couldn’t silence him, put his hand over Robert’s mouth.  Then Scott’s voice could be heard, as he was coming for Robert, so Derek took the money and ran away."  Here Leo paused.   "When Scott came, he was terrified.  He carried Robert over his shoulder, and went inside the Harrington House screaming for help. That was all I seen.”

Melvin kept silent for a moment; as if he was thinking of something.  “Do you know if Derek belongs to any clique ?”

“After that happened, I’ve been watching Derek, and no, he doesn’t", Leo responded.  "He’s a new boy, so he’s still a non-clique, although he has been practicing football a lot with the Jocks, and it looks like he is a friend with Dan, and that the Jocks like his football skills.”

Melvin kept silent. Fatty spoke up then. “Should we tell the Preps ?”

“I don’t think so.” answered Leo. “This won’t benefit us. He’s a non-clique...If they know, they’ll just beat him up, and this won’t help us with anything.”

“Leo’s right", Melvin said suddenly.  “Also, this might calm things down between the Preps and Greasers if they know that the whole war wasn’t caused by any one of them.  We’ll just keep this secret to ourselves, at least for now.  Maybe if Derek becomes a regular member for the Jocks, we’ll expose his secret then....I think it will make a fine Clique War between the Preps and the Jocks.”

“But Melvin, you just said that exposing this would end the war between the Preps and Greasers.” Fatty objected.

“The war is still small between the Preps and Greasers right now, so it will be easy to end and make peace", Melvin explained.  "That’s why I don’t want anyone to know of this just now....But by the time Derek joins the Jocks, if he does, and becomes a full member there, the Prep- Greaser war will have become so big and vigorous that it'll be nearly impossible to end, even when exposing this."  Melvin grinned.  "So we’ll hit two birds with one stone...Preps versus the Greasers and Preps versus the Jocks.”

“And what about the other thing, Melvin ?” Leo asked.

“The same.” answered Melvin. “We shouldn’t expose it.  It may raise conflicts between the Greasers within themselves,  but it may also be the reason to end the war between the Preps and Greasers.  I really don’t see how exposing something like this can help us, but let’s keep it to ourselves but not forget about it.  Who knows ?  We may need to use it in the future.”

Melvin then went silent for a moment, and then said, “Now, the Preps and Greasers will smash each other's heads, and I’ll figure there will be a way to get the Jocks in this war also.  What just remains is the Bullies.  What’s new about them ?”

“Nothing much.” Fatty said. “I heard Trent in the Dorm one time threatening that new Bully, Thomas. Thomas has been fighting every person he can in Bullworth, regardless of Clique, and Trent is worried that all the school Cliques would turn on them and beat them up.”

“That would be just great....We wouldn’t need to do anything.  What did that Thomas say ?” said Melvin.

“Well, he said that he would stop bullying everyone, although he sounded sarcastic.” said Fatty.

“You know, Thomas is a really strange Bully....He rarely beats us up.” commented Leo.

“That’s because he sees us as weak, pathetic kids that are too easy to bully.” Fatty said.

“Weak and pathetic, huh? “ Melvin exploded. “Well, I’ll show him how these weak and pathetic kids can make him fear the SHIT out of us !!"  Melvin's eyes bugged out for a few seconds in anger, then he took a long breath and calmed down. “Sorry, my brave knights. I just got carried away.  Anyway, have you been watching George, Francis?”

“Yes.” answered Fatty. “He’s just concentrating on his studies and school these days...He hasn’t started any more problems with the Jocks, or any other Clique.  Maybe he finally concluded that you’re right ?"

“No, I’m sure he didn’t.” Melvin said, and burst out laughing.  “In fact, the calmer he becomes, the more worried I become.  If he doesn’t cause any problems, it means that he’s planning for something big.  It’s calm before the storm, Francis.  Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. I won’t let him destroy everything I’ve been planning for.  And Leo, keep watching that Derek boy."  Both Fatty and Leo nodded to show they understood.  "Now, if there’s nothing else, you are dismissed", Melvin continued.  "You better get out of here in case any of our Brothers happen to wander down here and suspect anything. Listen, go and help the other Nerds in the library....But also, keep spying on the Cliques, and keep up the good work.  You two really prove loyalty to me and the Nerds clique by giving me this valuable information, so Thank You.”

“You’re Welcome, leader of the Brave knights.” Leo said, and then he and Fatty went out of the room and left the Observatory, leaving Melvin to think on his plans.  Smiling, he thought to himself, “Everything is going just as planned…..”
« Last Edit: July 12, 2014, 01:05:46 PM by BloodChuckZ »